I walked into the storeroom. On the table was an identical suit to the one Mark was wearing. The girl; I now knew as Jill was holding out a white shirt. "Try this on for size," she told me. I pushed each arm inside as she held it up, and then pulled it over my shoulders. I turned around and she started to button it up. "It's tailored, so should be a snug, close fit around your middle."
Smiling I pushed all of Grant's confidence to the fore. "You're a beautiful woman, stunning. My friend's talking to his fiancée. I'd like to find out if you're a snug close fit around my middle." I rolled my shoulders tightening the shirt across my chest.
Her eyes widened, as if a wish had been granted. She said nothing, but pushed the suit aside hopping onto the table. "You sure your friend won't come to find you?" She asked pulling at her panties. I shook my head as I pulled at my underwear, freeing my hardening dick.
Leaning across her, I kissed her gently, then more deeply, slowly laying her to the table. Unbuttoning her blouse, I eased my hands inside and freed her breasts and sensuously massaging them. She murmured something between kissing, but it made no sense. I reached down and took my dick. From memories I knew it to be about eight inches, but it was thick. Even as I touched it I was surprised at its weight as I'd never had the opportunity to experience it hard. She let out a gasp as I pushed in deep, the fit more than snug--tight, almost restrictive. Pulling back, I paused and pushed again--a little harder. Each time I ploughed deeper, the louder she moaned. I was pacing the rhythm and she was keeping up. The tightness, warmth and dampness only made me want more. Beads of sweat began to pepper my forehead as the pace slowed, but each stroke only became more purposeful, and the harder she pushed back. I felt my butt clench, my abs tighten and with a lingering growl I pumped five loads into her. We both paused, catching our breaths. Bracing myself against the table I pushed myself up, unceremoniously pulling myself clear. The shirt clung to my torso, damp with sweat and sticking to my back. I unbuttoned it, and peeled it off as Jill eased herself off the table. Her long hair was tangled, and she tried to fix it--unsuccessfully. Her attention turned to her clothes, she pulled at her panties fixing them in place as best she could. I handed her the shirt. "Sorry, hope that's not the only one," I asked. "Have you got any--," I gestured to my groin and she pointed at a box of tissues.
"That's our only shirt in that size, but I can have it cleaned by the time you need to pick it up next week."