He stood several yards behind her; fingertips tingled with the sensation of a touch not yet made. She stood just outside of the dressing room entrance as though hypnotized by her image in the full-length mirrors, totally unaware of his presence. Possibilities blended with a volatile rush of anticipation, causing his breath to clench in his throat. Could he actually walk up behind her and caress her without permission? The thought of reaching out and fondling those pretty little tits caused a shiver to pass through him, and companion twitch along his thigh. She had no name, no identity beyond the anonymous beauty of a perfectly sculpted body. No introductions need be made for what he planned to do.  

Through the sheer silk of her wrap he could see the outline of slender bra straps. Her under-things were so scant in design they served no real purpose, certainly not for support. More than likely they were designed to draw the beast to the surface of any man willing to look. And look he did. A faint smile crossed his lips, as he prepared to turn his own beast loose in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. He took another step closer, discreetly looking about to see if he was being observed.

The material of the skimpy little brassiere was sheer, akin to not even being there. His hands shook; fingers ached to touch nipples that were fully extended, silently begging to be pinched and rolled between thumb and forefinger. He drew a breath and took another step. Below her creamy white belly, riding on the curve of her hips stretched an ink-black lace garter. Fine silk stockings with hungry lips of intricate lace swallowed slender legs like a fine delicacy. There was a faint outline of a thong having another thin strip of lace that dropped out of sight into the crack of her ass. But he was a breast man, and hers garnered his fascination and every ounce of his lust.

"Sir, may I help you find something in particular?" He nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around to face a giggling sales person.

"Oh," he said, startled. "No, no thanks. Just looking at the moment. Haven’t touched her…err…a thing...I mean...just looking.”

"My name is Kara. Just let me know if I can help you find something, okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Kara," he replied, relaxing after he realized she had not read his thoughts, nor uncovered his plan.

Doubt arrived as she walked away, and he started to lose his nerve. What if he got caught? Certainly they’d call security. He looked toward the door to plan his escape route and then back to her. He had to touch her. She wanted it. Why else would she be standing outside the dressing rooms? There was no doubt she wanted his hands on her precious little tits that stood so firm and sweet; nipples at attention were proof enough. How could a woman dress like that and not be aroused? He took another step, closing to within a few feet of her.

She had to know he was there yet pretended to remain oblivious to his presence, extending a silent invitation, granting him permission to touch. She held her breath, anticipating strong hands and fingers squeezing her breasts, pinching tender buds. It was time. Hands moved quickly, driven with the intent of animal lust, gliding against the silken outer wrap. One hand went high slipping beneath the skimpy bra to cup her left breast, while the other went low skimming across taut flat belly, grazing the garter, slipping under the thin waistband of the dainty thong.

A shrill scream pierced the air, but it wasn’t his prey who screamed. It was another woman exiting the dressing room area who now stood with her hand clapped over her mouth, staring in shock as she watched his molestation. His left hand was full of breast and rock-hard nipple, and his right had just come in contact with the rounded curve of a silky smooth pussy. It all happened so suddenly. He jerked his hands away, and the wristband of his watch snagged in her garter. Yanking his hand harder and backing away, his feet became tangled with hers and they both tumbled to the floor, landing in a heap, the silk over-wrap billowing down covering both of their heads.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?" Kara bent over him with genuine concern on her face rather than the outrage he expected. Sirens, security and much more screaming were certain to follow.

He looked beneath the racks toward the door waiting for running feet to come and take him away to face the obvious assault charges that were due. "I’m…I’m so sorry. I was just trying to…"

"He was just playing grab ass with that mannequin, is what he was doing," snapped the unwanted observer with a nasty off-with-his-head tone in her voice.

Kara lifted the scantily clad mannequin off him and stood her back into position in front of the mirrors before turning to help him to his feet. He smoothed his hair and adjusted his trousers, exhaling his embarrassment through puffed out cheeks. He glared back at the house-frau who stood with her arms folded across her chest, obviously not appreciating the intentions of any man sick enough to cop a feel on a defenseless mannequin.

"Ma’am, I can assure you that I was not molesting that…"

"I know what I saw," she barked. "You are disgusting. Your actions are just…just…" She sputtered, searching for the most hurtful words she could muster, and finally settled on a short grunt of disdain and a parting retort. "Well, I never…"

"And that’s probably your problem right there, Frau Schultz." he muttered under his breath. Kara giggled.

"Are you sure you don’t need some help?" she asked again.

"Well...yes...actually, I do. I’d like to purchase what this mannequin is wearing.”

"I’ll bet you do," giggled Kara. "Should I box up the mannequin too?"

"Hey," he replied, grinning through his embarrassment and sharing her humor.

His gift box was wrapped in pink and white stripped paper that gave away at least part of the secret purchase he just made. He was not quite sure if sharing the whole shopping experience would be the right thing to do when he arrived home. As he walked out of the store he decided some secrets should remain with Victoria.