Chapter 1

She found the little ankle bracelet in an antique store in Paris. There was something vaguely spooky about the store, and the leering old man that accepted her money.

"Merci madam," he said, smirking a bit, "bon chance."

"Good luck?" Lisa replied, "Will I need it?"

The old clerk flushed slightly and withdrew quickly into the back room, muttering something that Debbie's rusty French told her sounded like "You have no idea!" At the same time, Debbie could swear she heard a faint but deep voiced laugh, and it wasn't a friendly one. But she saw no one around.

Brushing off this queer exchange, Debbie briskly left the shop. Debbie did everything briskly. You could tell just by looking at her. She walked like she was late for a meeting, shook hands like she'd rather not and dressed as if her objectives were functionality and concealment. They were.

Debbie was business-like in almost everything. She'd decided that's what she was going to be, and she'd pursued that path single-mindedly ever since her teen years, straight through college and into her adult career. Her few lovers all started off thinking they were incredibly lucky to have Debbie. Her body just screamed sex. Smooth, creamy skin, full, high breasts with sensitive nipples that stood out at the slightest stimulation, trim waist leading to flaring hips that Debbie had to work hard at keeping from swaying sexily when she walked, and an ass that no man could see, clothed or naked, without wanted to hold it, or fuck it. Debbie's raven hair and blue eyes topped a face and figure that could have made her a mint as either model or porn star.

But the same few lovers found out that Debbie was not the sexual gem she looked like. Debbie's body had developed early. The combination of teasing from her schoolgirl peers and constantly being leered at and hit on by both boys and men, including her teachers, built into Debbie a pattern of always hiding her body and acting like sex was the last thing on her mind. Even in bed, when she consented to shedding her clothes, Debbie just seemed to want to finish and move on to more important things. College boys and adult men all learned that there were better women to chase, even if they didn't have Debbie's looks.

Debbie was competent at sex, she wouldn't permit herself to be less than competent at anything. But a man that got a blowjob from Debbie was pretty certain that she'd rather be doing something else, and got the impression he'd just received a brisk handshake even after he'd come in her mouth. And don't even bother eating Debbie's pussy. She had no patience for it, since it demanded that she surrender herself to just pleasure and let herself go. A quick fuck was all she was interested in, and darn few of those.

Paris was Debbie's husband's idea. She'd been business-like about getting married too, and Dan had been too dazzled to see what he was getting into. Dan was pretty business-like too. But he genuinely loved Debbie too, or tried too when she let him. Dan wanted more romance in their lives, and more lust. He figured the "City of Love" might help Debbie loosen up and help them both concentrate on each other. They'd agreed, no cell phones, no faxes, no email. Just each other for a week. The week was almost up, just two nights to go before the long flight home.

The trip was OK, just OK. They'd walked along the Seine, looked at museums and dined at on haute cuisine and fine wines. They'd even made love. But it was much the same as always. Debbie seemed to be fucking because it was expected, and eager to be done. Dan was losing hope. They spent the early afternoon apart, Debbie doing some shopping and Dan checking out a museum exhibit that didn't interest her. Later they were to meet at the Rodin museum.

After the antique shop, Debbie drifted from shop to shop, she felt very relaxed, almost a bit giddy. She even found herself looking at a handsome young man, admiring his hard body and glancing shyly at his bulging crotch. At one point, a workman whistled at her from his scaffolding, looking past the clothes to the gorgeous tits and ass underneath. Normally incensed by wolf whistles, Debbie found herself smiling as she passed, and may even have put a little extra wiggle in her normally brisk walk. "Maybe Paris is finally getting to me," Debbie thought to herself, wondering what she was doing.

Passing a lingerie store, Debbie turned in uncharacteristically. Her normal underwear was what you'd expect, plain white cotton women's briefs and a bra that flattened instead of highlighted Debbie's lush tits. Now, surrounded by mere scraps of flimsy lace, thong panties, demi-bras, g-strings and bustiers with garters for silk stockings, Debbie was entranced. She'd secretly admired the women she saw at the gym lockeroom wearing daring lingerie, jealous of their confident sexuality, and even a little attracted to the way their bodies looked in the daring undergarments.

The store clerk was a young, attractive woman that was professionally able to look past the drab clothing Debbie wore to the hot body underneath. Seeing the obvious interest on Debbie's lovely face, began to show Debbie some items, less daring at first, then progressing to the type of lingerie usually found in men's magazines and porn movies. To her own wonderment, Debbie found herself agreeing, even trying on some items with the clerk in the room with her.

If her past lovers thought she looked hot nude, they'd be creaming their jeans if they saw her in lacy thong and demi-bra, or thigh high stockings and bustier with a push up bra that practically hand delivered her nipples to a lover's mouth. Debbie's excitement was evident. Her nipples, always sensitive, were like supple iron now. Her pussy throbbed and she could feel herself getting wet.

Seeing Debbie like this had Yvette, the store clerk, hot too. Always bisexual, she'd found opportunities to touch Debbie several times while fitting her, a brief touch on a breast, a light stroke on her ass and as she smoothed a stocking top just the briefest glancing touch with the side of her hand on Debbie's clearly stimulated cunt. Debbie noticed, but pretended not to, letting behavior that would normally shock her go by without response.

Encouraged by Debbie's lack of protest, Yvette slipped out briefly and locked the front door. She returned to the changing booth and suggested that Debbie come to the back of the store, where there was "more to see." As they stepped to the back, Yvette followed Debbie, her eyes glued to the cheeks of the American's beautiful ass and her thoughts running to how Debbie would look with her ass in the air being pistoned by Yvette's boyfriend while Debbie mouth was pressed to Yvette's nearly shaved pussy. For now though, they'd have to make do with only their own bodies and whatever toys Yvette had around the shop.

Yvette began to show Debbie the toys they sold from the back of the store. Dildos of all sizes and colors, including one double dong that looked very much like two lifelike cocks joined together, various vibrators and ben wa balls, lubricants. Still in the lingerie she had been trying on, Debbie stood there almost shaking with lust. Then she felt Yvette's soft hand caress her ass, nearly naked in the thong panties. There was no mistaking this for anything but a pass at her, especially when Yvette's other hand cupped her left breast and began stroking the rock hard nipple. Debbie felt Yvette's kiss on her neck and moaned softly in spite of herself. As Yvette's hand moved around to Debbie's pussy and slipped under the thong, Debbie almost surrendered. Then French girl's fingers felt so good as they moved on her pussy and lightly drummed her clit.

Then, briefly finding herself again, Debbie broke away, embarrassed and trying to say in broken French, ""No, I'm not like this." Yvette, surprised at the late rejection, stepped back. It wasn't the first time she'd been backed off by a woman not sure she wanted to stroll gay street, even for a short walk. She was disappointed though, this one was ripe for the picking. You could feel the orgasm just below the surface. Hell, this American tart's juicy cunt had practically sucked her finger inside it. Yvette just knew that she and her boyfriend could have Debbie if she just had a little more time. Ce' la vie. Time to collect the money for the lingerie and send the American on her way.

Yvette reassured Debbie as best she could that everything was fine, then packed up the lingerie that had been tried on and sold it at full price, no haggling since Debbie was too embarrassed to even try. "Au reviour cherie," Yvette said softly as Debbie left the shop, shaking her head at her own behavior. There was that low chuckle again, and Debbie could swear there was a tiny voice in her head saying, "You're almost there Debra."

Pulling herself together, Debbie dropped off her parcels at the hotel, enjoying the looks from the young bellmen and the feel of her now daring lingerie, the feel of the soft silk thong between the cheeks of her ass. As she left the hotel her hand slipped up and undid one button of her top, much to the delight of the admiring doorman.