Beginnings: Chapter 4 - Room For Change - Sex Stories

Beginnings: Chapter 4 - Room For Change

... I was slowly learning to allow all thought to simply abandon my mind and ‘ride with the tide’ where Veronica was concerned. The back of the boutique was rather narrower than the more open area at the entrance, where strategically placed racks and rails of quality women’s clothing greeted the customers, although I had little doubt Sophie would refer to them as clients. However, it curiously felt slightly less claustrophobic and more intimate. Veronica seemed lost in concentration as she swished through a rail of clothing, the combined price of which would probably have been enough to purchase a thoroughbred racehorse or two. “Good morning, Miss Richardson,” Veronica said, continuing to slide the contents of the rail through her hands. I was slightly taken aback in relation to her mode of address, which felt markedly more formal than I had been used to from her. “Good morning, Miss Hamilton,” I replied. Sophie stood a little distance back from Veronica, and to her side. She looked as though she wanted to say something helpful but was holding back. “Ah,” said Veronica suddenly, opening up a space between the clothing on the rail and lifting a hanger from it. It was a black, tailored, two-piece pencil skirt suit, with the merest suggestion of a pinstripe. “Let’s try this one, I think, Sophie.” “An excellent choice, Miss Hamilton,” Sophie replied. From most sales assistants, such a comment may have sounded nauseatingly sycophantic. However Sophie managed to make it sound ...

... positively genuine, perhaps because it was. “Now, Miss Richardson,” Veronica continued, looking at me. “I want you to try it on. Sophie is going to give you all the help you need.” Sophie pulled back a large, blue velvet curtain which slid back effortlessly and almost silently on the silver track above it, revealing a plush changing room. A full-length mirror covered almost one entire wall of the changing room, which also contained a luxuriously upholstered chair, in a blue as deep and rich as the curtain. There were two brass hooks on the wall facing the full-length mirror. Hanging on one of the hooks I could see a pristine white blouse perched perfectly on a hanger, and on the other a small carrying bag bearing the logo Amelie’s , of the kind the boutique would use to put customer purchases in. Sophie began to put the suit Veronica had chosen onto the brass hook behind the bag and I began to remove my jacket. “Miss Richardson?” said Veronica, who had now sat down on another comfortable-looking chair just outside the changing room. “I thought I told you that Sophie was going to give you all the help you need.” I stopped what I was doing. Having hung the suit up, Sophie positioned herself in front of me. “Allow me, Miss Richardson,” said Sophie, maintaining her courteous professional smile. Slowly, she moved her hands onto the lapels of my jacket, moved round to the back and slipped it off my shoulders in one easy movement. She moved back in front of me once more, holding my jacket in ...