Nip ‘n’ Tuck

Content advisory: oral sex

Gabby Brown heard the distant ding of the bell above the shop door and checked her watch. Noon. At last. She’d been nervous all morning, stuck her fingers with pins until the pads tingled. She’d ushered out the last customer fifteen minutes ago, then hurried to the restroom to run her fingers through her curly hair and gloss her lips. She wore her “uniform”—a cardigan over a plain, button-down blouse, a dark, knee-length skirt and comfortable shoes. The clamps she’d attached to her nipples were concealed beneath her padded bra. The slim, short vibrator was already inside her; the remote tucked into a pocket of her sweater.

She glanced at her reflection.

I can do this, she told herself. It wasn’t as though they were complete strangers. Perhaps she didn’t know what he looked like, but he’d learned her secrets, her passions, while sharing his own. He’d slowly stoked a fire inside her, promising her a discreet thrill. The first of many.

For a woman who had somehow let her youth slip by, the chance to live out a few of her favorite fantasies was too enticing to ignore. He’d promised an elicit pleasure. A test run, of sorts. To save embarrassment or hurt feelings, they’d also agreed to hold off discussing future engagements until they could meet again that evening, online. And because she’d admitted she was shy about revealing her body this first time, she would remain fully clothed.

Leaving the bathroom, she pulled back the curtain separating the store from her fitting room. Her glance landed on the long lean body faced away, looking at the ugly plaid golf trousers. When his hand reached for the hanger, she smiled. Their pre-arranged signal.

Forcing her smile away, she entered the room and strode quietly up behind him.

When she stood beside his shoulder, she enjoyed the fact she had to tilt back her head to meet his gaze. He was bigger than she’d thought he’d be. “Would you like to try them on?”

The face that turned her way was more handsome than he’d led her to believe. A strong, angular chin, a blunt nose. Dark thick eyebrows framed a pair of curious brown eyes.

A frown dug a line between those dark eyebrows, then his gaze flicked to hers again. “The pants are ugly as hell,” he murmured.

“I’ll help you with them, if you like. Try them on for size,” she said, suddenly breathless, flirting with her eyes and lips. She bit her bottom lip, then released it with a little laugh.

His answering smile melted her. It was crooked, and dug a dimple into one cheek.

Eager now, she grabbed the hanger, clamping her hand around his fingers, and tugged him along. “Come with me.”

And he did, much to her relief. There was no sign he was disappointed with her appearance. No reluctance in the drag of his feet. Just a quirk of his eyebrows and a quick glance around the shop.

“Don’t worry. We’ll know if anyone comes in. I’ll be quick.”

He cleared his throat, but ducked through the curtain to follow her inside her little room.

She knew what he saw. A dingy little airless room. A sewing machine on a dented table. A rack crammed full of clothing she’d already mended, shortened, let out…. She was a seamstress—not a sexy job, not until he’d convinced her otherwise.

“This is where you work?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly bemused.

She lifted a shoulder. She’d warned him it wasn’t much. “I make a living.”

“Doing... alterations?”

“Exactly. But we don’t have a lot of time. Marlon will be back from lunch in half an hour.” She lifted her chin toward the pants still clutched in his hands. “Try them on. We’ll discuss the fitting.”

“Right here?”

“If you’re shy, you can use the restroom, but there’s no need. Not with me.”

He gave a slight snort, shook his head, but set the pants on her work table. He took off his sports coat, loosened his tie, and then toed off his well-shined black shoes. When his hands paused at his belt buckle, and his gaze rested on her for a long moment, she decided to make this a little easier for him.

She strode toward him, shooed away his hands, and holding his gaze, she unbuttoned his waistband and slid the zipper down.

A muscle straddling his jaw flexed. “You’re very pretty,” he whispered.

“Thanks for saying that. I hardly ever go to the bother of makeup, but I wanted to look special today,” she admitted.

“Today’s special,” he said, his voice uninflected.

“Yes." Grabbing his waistband, she dragged his pants off his hips. Her gaze dropped to the erection tenting his boxers. “Very special,” she said softly.

His trousers fell around his ankles, and she knelt to hold them while he stepped out. She liked his legs, liked the dark hair cloaking his olive skin, the muscle tensing in his thighs as she stood, her hands grazing him lightly as she came up.

She reached for the bright green golf pants and dangled them off a finger.

His eyebrows rose.

“Like we agreed. Put them on.”

“But….”

She shook her head. “Let me work… first.”

He blew out a slow breath, and then pulled the pants on, one leg at a time, hopping a bit when he was unbalanced.

Her gaze ate him up, watched the bounce of his thickening cock. Red splotches bloomed on his cheeks, and she heard his soft curse. She suppressed a grin. He was being a good sport about this. She’d been the one to design the scenario. Something she’d always fantasized about doing to a stranger, but had never had the courage to try. Not until “TallDarkBanker” teased her in a private chat room into revealing her innermost desires.

The ugly plaid slid up his thighs. He closed the waist, then set his hands on his hips and glared down his legs in disgust. “Really? Who buys these?”

She giggled, then reached into her pocket to hand him the remote.

His eyes blinked, but a thumb flicked the on button. The sound of the vibrator, although muffled, was unmistakable.

As was her sudden lurch. She rested a hand on her belly. “Try for a gentler setting,” she said, her breaths gusting until he tapped the button twice more.

His gaze slid down her body.

Her knees were clamped tight, and she eased her stance as the vibrations settled into a softer hum.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up her tape measure, slid her pincushion over her wrist and knelt at his feet. Keeping her head down, she cleared her throat. “To what side do you dress, sir?”

“To what side…?”

Gabby lifted a brow then stared steadily at his crotch.

“Ah… to the left.”

She pinched the fabric between her fingers, tugging it taut to reveal the shape of his thick cock as it lay against his thigh. She plucked a pin from her pincushion and folded the fabric, creating a pouch that emphasized his cock. She stuck a pin into the fold to hold it.

His thigh twitched. “Careful with those.”

“I’m very, very good,” she said. Then gliding a finger along the seam just behind his balls, she dragged her fingertip up the divide between his firm buttocks, ignoring his hissing breath and the clench of his firm buttocks, and leaned closer. She pulled the fabric tighter, the seam sinking between his cheeks.

“Anyone actually wear them this way?” he asked, his voice rising.

A smile tugged her lips. “I’m just getting your measure.”

“Better make sure you leave more room then,” he growled softly.

A grin tugged at her mouth. “You’re right, sir. I should see how much fabric I should leave… for comfort.” She let go of the fabric, removed the pin at his thigh and efficiently unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Then standing close to his chest, pressing against him to increase the pressure on her clamped nipples, she slid her palms inside the back of his pants and beneath the waist of his boxers, and smoothed them both down his buttocks. When she’d pulled all the material down his thighs, she glanced up to gauge his reaction.

His skin was stretched across his sharp-boned cheeks. His gaze was just as hard-edged and focused on her mouth.

Just as they’d agreed, she leaned toward his cock, letting her eyelids drift down halfway, and breathed in his scent as she rubbed her cheek against his satiny shaft.

“Fuck me,” he muttered softly.

“Now, that’s not part of the plan today. But this is nice, isn’t it?”

“Nice?”

She liked the breathless edge of his voice. Liked the subtle forward thrust of his hips. An unmistakable hint that he was growing restless.

As was she. Moisture oozed from inside her. She tugged the back of her skirt to keep it from getting soaked and eased down to sit on her heels.

Gabby sank her nose in the crisp, curling hairs at his groin. She dragged her tongue from the root of his cock up to the soft bulb at the end, taking her time to learn the places that made him tighten and gasp. Slicking over the cap, she flicked the narrow slit, then dipped the tip of her tongue inside.

“Jesus… fuck.” His hand landed on her head, patting her hair as though he hadn’t quite committed.

Like a cat, she tipped her head against his palm, nudging him, encouraging him to rake her hair with his fingers. The vibrations rattling inside her intensified and she lifted sleepy eyes to see him watching her expression. She smiled.

When he pulled her hair, at last, she told him wordlessly how pleased she was. She opened her mouth and took him inside. She rose slightly higher to angle her head downward because his erection, which was pulling upward and hardening further, crowded into her mouth as he stroked with more depth and intensity.

Her “customer” muttered under his breath and pulled her hair, his hips pumping with full force now into her mouth, cramming against the back of her throat.

She tightened her lips around him and began to suck hard, pulling, growling, her hands sliding up and down his reddened stalk. He’d told her he liked a little twist, so she gave him a double-fisted one, a firm, clockwise tug that had him rising on his toes and powering harder into her mouth.

Without a boyfriend for far too long, Gabby had missed so many things. But when “Tall” had asked her what she wanted most, it had been this act. Something about a man’s body, so different from her own—the musky smell, the silk and steel textures—were what she’d missed most.

All the while she happily licked and sucked, the internal revving hum built, tension curling deep inside her belly.

In the distance, she heard the tinkle of the doorbell. Coming off him, she leaned toward the curtain, and pulled it back just a couple of inches. A man was walking through the store, glancing toward the suits and slacks lined along the far wall. She dropped the curtain, and tilted back her head. “Think you can be quiet?” she whispered.

“Can you?” he asked, his voice clipped, tight. A hand cupped his balls and massaged them.

She sprang to her feet, grasped his shaft and pulled him farther into her little room, backing him up to the table. Then she knelt again, swallowed him whole, and bobbed quickly forward and back, doing her best to do so quietly, but the sexy, slurping noises filled the tiny airless space.

His breaths seemed overloud too—short, ragged gasps that quickened the deeper and faster she bobbed. But she’d planned this. Looked forward for too long to let a little thing like a random customer, another stranger, intrude upon her fantasy.

Inside her mouth, her tongue swept up and down his steely length, her lips firmed to suck harder. Her hands pumped up and down his slick shaft, grinding around him until his fingers dug into her scalp, his body shuddered and he gave a quiet, chopped gasp and jerked against her.

Cum filled the back of her throat and she murmured, liking the taste of him, liking the thick, gluey liquid that coated her tongue. The vibrator rocked inside her, pulsing to her own contractions, and then a slow wave of heat swept over her, prickling her skin, catching her breath. She came quietly and slowed her motions, reluctant to end their play.

But a footstep sliding on grit outside the curtain caught her attention.

Gabby came off him one last time, a long tendril of moisture connecting them until his thumb wiped it from her mouth.

He handed her the remote, which she switched off. Their gazes held for a long moment, and then she dipped her head, hiding a very satisfied smile.

“I don’t like the pants,” he whispered.

“They’re ugly as hell,” she agreed.

“But I need a tux for a friend’s wedding.”

She understood the code even though she was surprised that he’d decided to ignore their preset rule. They settled on another “date” as he redressed in the trousers he’d arrived in and she stood watching, combing her hair with her fingers.

He kissed her, then gave her a wink and let himself out. Gabby collapsed on a stool, her legs weak. Her mouth and jaw sore—and so pleased with herself, she didn’t move from her spot for a very, very long time.

Dear “NipnTuck,” I snuck into your shop today, wanting to watch you before I announced my presence. Imagine my surprise when another man arrived and headed straight to the green golf pants. I wondered for the moment if you’d decided to leap ahead to the next scenario we discussed, sex in front of strangers, but you spoke to him as though you thought it was me. I almost announced my presence, but you were so adorable, so confident, I decided to see how far the gentlemen let you go.

To my delight, he followed you inside your fitting room. I inched open the curtain to watch—my favorite fetish as you know. You didn’t disappoint, dear Nip. You were lovely, disheveled, and your expression when you came left me hard all afternoon.

If you don’t mind, and if you think you can keep him in the dark, I’d love to watch him fuck you when he comes back on Tuesday for his next fitting.

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Copyright © 2011 Delilah Devlin

Delilah Devlin
Ravished by a Viking — "Perfect Read." Fresh Fiction
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All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.