Chapter 1

There had been something about the depth of her eyes - a secret kept there - that had me fascinated from the moment I saw her in Starbucks. Her bright red lips looked amazing on the white porcelain mug for sure, and her body was perfectly curved under layers of leather and lace, but I was lost in her eyes.

My Saturday plans hadn't really extended beyond my morning coffee and the paper, so there were no conflicts I had to worry about when I followed her out onto the street. The wonderful movement of her beautiful ass entranced me as she moved, wrapped up in a tight miniskirt. She was also wearing stockings with actual seams down the backs of her curvy legs. They were perfectly aligned. I realized that I was getting quite stiff, with my cock straining against my black jeans.

I wanted to see more of her eyes. I needed to.

She didn't seem to be in any hurry either. She would frequently pause and look into shop window displays. I tried not to make it too obvious that I was following her, but I also wanted to see if I could get even a reflection of her eyes in shop front glass.

By the third store, I was getting more daring, or maybe just more desperate. I actually stopped nearly beside her, and searched the reflection for her eyes.

I nearly fainted when she turned and spoke to me.

"Do you like these?" she asked, and those lips, those perfect lips, curved into a smile.

I nearly panicked, since I hadn't bothered to even notice what store we were in front of. But there were her eyes, looking right into mine. I blurted out, "Yes, yes, I do."

"Really, that is very interesting. Will you come in with me?" She didn't wait for an answer before she walked in. I had a moment to look in the window for real.

I dropped my head and shook in despair. It was a fucking lingerie shop. Oh sure, jackass, you love La Perla, you come here all the time.

A wise man, one in control of himself, or at least of his cock, would have just cut and run at that point. Write it off as a humiliating story to tell the boys over beer and be done with it. This man, however, had to see her eyes at least one more time, and I had grabbed to door to follow her in before it had even fully closed.

I felt strange, out of place, like all men do in lingerie shops when it's not just before Christmas or Valentines Day. I just tried to stay close to this strange beauty, like I was with her, to explain away my presence to all those who were questioning it with their eyes.

She would occasionally point out little scraps of lace and silk to me, on tables, displays or even the display posters around the store, asking me if I liked them. I would always say yes, but I saw nothing but her eyes. She would pick up items now and again and carry them with her, buy my eyes never left her face.

I didn't even flinch when she asked for my credit card at the cash desk. Any price was worth this heaven. To this day, I don't recall what the total was.

She led me out, and she didn't need to say another word, or ask me if I would follow her. Was it so obvious that I would do anything for those eyes?

She seemed to live in a large studio, above a store on a nearby street. It was busy, but not as trendy as where we had come from. The glimpses I caught of those around us seem to indicate a darker color of clothing.

I followed her up the stairs, and it was wonderful to see that few inches more of her stockings that this new angle allowed, before the seams disappeared into the wonderful darkness of her skirt.

Her studio was spotless, clean and sleek. Every piece of furniture seemed modern and expensive. She had impeccable taste.

She guided me to the centre of the living area, where a coffee table might have been if there had been one. She faced me, and locked those eyes onto mine.

"What is your name, my dear?"

"It is Edward."

"Lovely. Strip, Edward."

I silently obeyed and in moments I was completely naked. I had managed to do it all without losing sight of her eyes, but for that split second I had to pull my t-shirt over my head. My jeans, shoes, socks and shirt were in a discarded pile beside me. I was a bit embarrassed, not just by being so exposed, but also because my cock was standing out ram-straight, leaving little question about my arousal.

"Very nice, Edward. I'm so glad you liked those pieces at La Perla. You have expensive tastes, even if they do tend a bit to the slutty look."

She hadn't asked a question, so I didn't dare speak. I think I might have blushed a little redder.