Day 4

Tuesday.

I never liked Tuesdays before. For some reason, this one felt different. After a late shower in my upgraded bathroom, I came back and stood naked in front of the big bedroom mirror. I almost couldn’t believe the changes my body had gone through in just three days.

From a 5’6 skinny nerd with a sad little 5 inch pencil dick, I had become 6 feet tall, muscular and undeniably well-equipped. Looking through my wardrobe to find today’s outfit, though, was a letdown. {if Coolness>4}Annoyingly, they had not changed when I upgraded my coolness factor. Unfashionable, worn out and loose, they didn’t match my current self.{else}Even with coolness {Coolness}, I realized it wasn't what most women found attractive.{endif}

Sometimes this game didn't make sense. {if Coolness>4}My coolness upgrade affected my living situation, my hair style... but not my clothes?{endif} It was like someone was writing a story and making arbitrary choices because it moved the plot forward. In any case, I realized that my parents had transferred a decent sum to my account after I told them how I aced my exam. Well, not how I did it, but that I did. Deciding that today was the day to do something about my wardrobe, I put on the best clothes I could find, and headed downtown.

Walking down high street, looking for the perfect store, was a challenge for my patience. About a third of the stores were undeniably and obviously way out of my budget, while most of the rest were not really suitable for my taste. I was just about to give up, when I found “Cul Supérieur”. The tiny store, sandwiched in between two popular chain stores, appeared to be empty, but I liked what I saw on the racks. I began to browse the jeans and t-shirts near the entrance.

The saleswoman announced her presence with the loud clicking of heels. “Welcome, sir. How may I help you today?” she said, and I turned around.

“Oh, what a nice surprise!” I replied. “A woman who clearly knows what she’s doing. That is a lovely dress!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. She was a pretty, blonde woman, probably in her late twenties? I guessed somewhere between 5’6 and 5’7 tall, but appearing taller in her heels. Her black designer dress clung tightly to her body, splitting seductively in the front of her thighs. The heels and skin-colored pantyhose made her legs seem impossibly long, and enhanced her skinny torso.

"Well, anyway, as you can see," I said, and made a hand gesture that signaled that yes, I knew I was badly dressed, “My wardrobe badly needs to be replaced."

The woman nodded. "Yes, I can tell. Did you have a budget in mind?"

"Yes, I have just received a research grant, so I was thinking I could spend at least couple of thousand on four-five outfits. More, if I really like it," I continued.

"Good, good. There is hope," she replied, and begun to look around.

"You're a 34/32 in pants, right?"

"Yeah, usually," I replied, "good guess!"

"Most fit men with your height are," she replied and put two pairs of pants in my arms. "And XL for shirts and jackets, I presume?"

“Sure, we’ll begin there,” I replied.

She turned around to face away from me, and I immediately saw my chance to snap a picture. Her ass was quite spectacular. Fit like a runner, it was tight and round, but with narrow hips. Making sure my phone was set to silent, I discreetly got a shot just as she turned back around.

“Alright, try these on,” she said, and led me to the changing room. While putting the first pair of pants on, I had a look at her profile. “Claire Denise, 27. Saleswoman and clothes designer. Unhappily dating at the moment. No STDs, on the pill. Loves France, champagne and strong men. Rating 7/10.”

“No, no,” she said as I came out of the dressing room wearing the first outfit. “That shirt doesn’t work.”

She rummaged through a row of hangers and came back with another shirt.

“Here, try this,” she said, and I took the first shirt off. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything as I bared my muscular chest.

“Ah, yes, excellent!” she said when the other shirt was buttoned up.

“Yes, I’ll take it,” I said.

“Ok, try the next, please!” she ordered.

I went back to the changing room and redressed. Soon we had found three pairs of pants and five shirts that went along with it.

“You have to try this too,” she said, and handed me a pair of jeans through the curtains. I grabbed them and started putting them on, noting the label. "Denise Denim". That was it. I saw my angle of attack.

“Oh, is this your design, Miss Denise? I love it!”

“Yes,” she replied, “Thank you.”

“There’s just one problem,” I said, and drew the curtains to the side. “The zipper is stuck.”

“No way,” she said and approached me, “are you sure? I only use the best quality for my design.”

“Yes, definitely,” I said, and tried to pull the zipper up.

“Please, may I?” Claire said, and I removed my hands.

We stood very close together, facing each other. Trying to pull the zipper up, it was just a matter of time before her hand brushed against the rising bulge in my boxer shorts. Acting very professional, she did not say anything, focusing instead on the task at hand.

“Wait, I think I got it,” she said, “I just need to get it aligned down here.”

She put her hand down my pants on the inside, the back of her hand pushing against my trouser snake. Moving it slightly up and down as she tried to realign the zipper teeth, she made my cock harden and she felt it rise.

“Ah, there we go!” she said and pulled the zipper slowly up. “But now your penis is in the way, Sir,” she continued, unable to close the jeans.

“Ah, yes, it would seem so,” I said.

“One moment, please,” the saleswoman said and left me alone behind the curtains. The sound of her heels on the floor as she walked away came to an end with a metallic click, and then she returned.

“Let me try again,” she said, and put her hand inside my boxers. Grabbing my erection, she tried to push it to the side, while she pulled on the zipper with the other hand. She looked me in the eye.

“It’s too tight. We need you to relax.”

“Yes,” I replied. Claire sat down on the bench and pulled the jeans down. My boxer shorts were pitching a serious tent, and she wasted no time dismantling it. My dick sprung out, standing proud at {Cock_length} thick inches.

“Oh my!” she said. “You seem to have a very big penis, sir.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s always a problem with these slim-fit jeans.”

“I might be able to fix it,” the elegant blonde said, and began to stroke the shaft, looking up at me with her big, blue eyes.

Her high cheek bones and flawless skin reminded me of a runway model, but when the bulbous head of my cock disappeared in between her lipstick red lips; my thoughts went in a whole other direction.

She bobbed on it rhythmically, sliding the first couple of inches in and out while her hand gripped the base tightly. I reached down and pulled at her dress. She got the point, and reached back to unzip it, not letting my penis escape her luscious lips.

Her bra was next, and she looked up at me while she removed it, sliding her hands over her firm 30D-cup breasts. My cock twitched and grew slightly harder, and she giggled on it.

“Mh-mh-mh,” the woman moaned as she pleasured me, occasionally taking it out to lick the shaft.

“Mmm, so nice!” she mumbled while sliding it on her chin.

I pulled her up and turned her around, reaching up under her fancy dress to pull the panty-hose down. She was damp underneath, and – sliding her panties aside – my finger easily entered her pussy.

“Oh!” she moaned, and I began to finger fuck her, lifting her dress up with my other hand.

In a swift motion, I replaced my finger with my cock, pushing my thick sausage inside her.

“God!” she moaned, “you’re splitting me apart!”

Her pussy barely spread open for me, clinching the shaft as the head speared into her. She put her right foot on the changing room chair, easing my entry, and I grabbed her hips. Her dress now only covering her torso, and her panties pulled aside, she looked incredibly hot. I smacked my groin into her tight, small ass, burying six, maybe seven fat inches in her love pocket.

“Yes, give it to me harder now!” she begged, and I complied, fucking her harder, faster.

Reaching between her legs, she found her clit and rubbed it while my rod pistoned in and out of her.

“Yes, yes! So good!”

The sound of ass slapping against thighs echoed through the empty store, her moans and my groans adding to the symphony. I felt like a natural, banging this hot babe in her own clothing store as if it was something I did every day, and soon she started to cum on me.

“Oh yes, just like that. I’m gonna cum! Oh, I’m gonna cum!” she moaned, and I grinned.

“Yes, come for me, Claire!” I said, and stayed in my rhythm.

“Ah, ah, aahh! Aaaaaaah!” she cried as her pussy contracted and strangled my cock. I slowed down eventually, and grabbed her under the knees.

“Ooh,” she cooed as I lifted her up and turned around to sit on the chair. My cock still inside her, she was in the reverse cowgirl position with her pantyhose around her ankles.

“Oh my god, Sir! You are making my little pussy feel so full,” she said.

“Yes, you like my big cock?” I replied.

“I LOVE your BIG cock!” she immediately told me, turning her head around for a wet kiss.

She bounced on me, my dick pushing up against the front of her vagina, stimulating the sensitive little knot. She rotated her hips laterally, grinding my dick while it was deep inside, and rubbed her big clit at the same time.

“Fuuuuck!” she moaned and came again, a smaller one this time. “Finally a guy who knows how to fuck!”

She didn’t waste much time before she started bouncing again. I grabbed her hips and helped her slam down on me, angling my dick so it didn’t hit her sensitive cervix, despite my length.

We gradually reached a good rhythm and finally I could feel my own orgasm approaching. With great self-control, I held back for as long as I could, before I could not hold it back anymore. Grabbing her tight, I started fucking her fast from below, slamming my fat cock in and out.

“Oh god, oh god,” she moaned, “yes, yes!”

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” I grunted.

“Oh god, yes! Me too, again! Cum inside me!” she cried, and let go, her tight cunt squeezing me snugly.

“Aaaah!” we screamed together as I shot my wad up into her pretty little pussy.

“Haaah!” she gasped as she felt the thick cum spraying into her over and over.

“Hnngh!” was the only sounds coming from me. Again and again, as thick loads shot through my cock and onto her cervix. Thank god for the pill.

Standing up, she wiped herself off with my boxer shorts before pulling her panties and panty-hose back over her swollen lips.

“You need new ones, anyway,” she said, and threw them in the trash.

She straightened her dress while I sat there, fully spent, on the chair. She smirked and squatted down between my legs. She took my half-erect cock in her mouth and sucked the remaining drops of cum out of it. “Mmm…” she said, and licked her lips as she got up again. “Wait here!”

She returned with a fresh pair of boxer shorts, and I got dressed.

“See, _now _it fits perfectly,” she said as I zipped up the pair of pants.

“Excellent. I’ll take it,” I replied with a grin. “I’ll take it all.”

We got out of the changing room, and she rang up the clothes she had found. I grabbed a bunch of boxers and tees as well, and put them on the counter.

“Excellent. That will be… wait, I think I’ll give you our special discount,” she said. “1348,-“

“Thanks,” I said, and inserted my card. While punching my code, she continued,

“If is there anything else you need, do not hesitate to give me a call.” She handed me her personal card.

“Claire Denise, designer and manager.” it said.

I thanked her with a kiss on the cheek, and left the store with a huge smile.

I loved shopping.