Trying On a Suit for the Wedding – The Saleswoman Helped Me Very Thoroughly with the Size

I was really excited about my cousin's wedding – I had to look perfect in a new suit. I entered an elegant clothing salon in the city center, where it smelled of freshly ironed fabric and subtle perfumes. The store was empty, except for one beautiful saleswoman behind the counter. She wore a tight black dress in the salon's signature style, accentuating her slim waist and full hips. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, and her lips glistened with red lipstick. She looked about twenty-five, definitely of age and confident.

– Good day, how can I help you? – she asked with a smile, approaching closer. Her voice was warm, melodic.

– I'm looking for a suit for a wedding. Something classic but elegant – I replied, feeling a slight tingle as her gaze scanned my figure.

– Perfect! I'm Marta. Let me measure you precisely to find the perfect size. Let's go to the fitting room – she said, leading me to the back of the store. Her hips swayed seductively, and I couldn't take my eyes off them.

In the tight cubicle, lit by soft light, she told me to strip down to my underwear. I stood there in my boxers, feeling a bit embarrassed but excited by her closeness. She took out the tailor's tape and started with the shoulders.

– Please stand straight. Chest size... 102 centimeters. You fit our slim fit – she murmured, wrapping the tape around my torso. Her fingers brushed my skin, gently but firmly. For the first time, I felt her breath quicken near my neck.

– And now the waist – she added, kneeling in front of me. Her face was at the level of my waist. Her hands glided over my hips, tightening the tape. I felt the warmth of her hands through the thin fabric of my underwear. My body reacted immediately – blood rushed lower, and I tried to hide it.

– Looks like we need to check the inseam length very precisely – she whispered, looking into my eyes with a playful sparkle. She stood up, handing me the first suit: navy blue, with a slim tie. She helped me into the jacket, adjusting the collar with her slender fingers. Her perfume – sweet, floral – enveloped me like a mist.

– Turn around, please. Yes, it perfectly highlights your athletic build. But the skirt... oops, pants – they need to be shortened – she laughed softly, placing her hand on my thigh, as if by accident.

We talked, flirting lightly. I told her about the wedding, she about her job.

– Sometimes guys come here stressed, but you're relaxed. I like clients like that – she said, gently massaging my shoulders under the jacket.

I was really fascinated by her confidence. I tried on the second suit, anthracite, and again her hands bustled around me. This time she touched my chest deeper, checking the buttons.

– Do you feel how the fabric hugs in key places? – she asked provocatively.

– Yes, perfectly – I moaned softly, feeling the tension build. Her eyes sparkled, and I knew this was just the beginning. The fitting room was getting warmer, our breaths syncing. Marta closed the curtain tighter, whispering:

– Now we'll check the lower part again. Don't move.

Her fingers slid lower, and for the first time, I felt that this visit would change my view on shopping forever. I felt her warmth, her closeness – it was like a prelude to something forbidden and exciting.

The fitting room curtain rustled softly as Marta knelt again, her face mere centimeters from my crotch. Her hands trembled slightly with excitement, wrapping the tape around my thigh. I was truly stunned – this wasn't ordinary customer service. I felt her fingers brush the inside of my leg, higher and higher.

– Crotch size... we need to check this precisely – she whispered, eyeing the bulge in my boxers. Her breath burned through the fabric.

– Marta, this is... – I started, but trailed off as her fingers gently pressed, as if measuring.

– Shh, it's my job. You have impressive dimensions. The suit has to fit perfectly – she replied with a smile, standing slowly. Her dress rode up slightly, revealing black lace stockings. She pressed against me, adjusting the pants belt.

I tried on the third suit – black, tuxedo style. Perfect for the wedding. But now her hands weren't rushing. She unbuttoned my shirt, slipping her hand under the fabric, stroking my chest.

– Such smooth skin... Do you feel me getting tense? – she asked, her lips close to my ear.

– Yeah, damn, you're incredible – I admitted, placing my hands on her hips. She was warm, soft. For the first time, I felt such chemistry with a stranger.

– I like it when clients appreciate my precision. Take off the pants, I'll check the length – she commanded gently, kneeling again. She slid the pants down, her fingers catching the waistband of my boxers. My cock sprang free, hard and ready. I no longer hid my arousal.

– Oh my, what a big size. A challenge for my tape – she laughed throatily, wrapping the tape around the shaft. Her hand tightened slightly, massaging.

– Marta, this is crazy... but don't stop – I moaned, stroking her hair.

– I won't stop. I want to feel all of you – she murmured, taking me into her mouth slowly. Her tongue swirled, sucking gently. It was wet, hot. I stood frozen, leaning against the wall, watching in the mirror as her head bobbed.

– You taste divine – she whispered, looking up. She stood, kissing me passionately. Her tongue invaded my mouth, her hands fully unbuttoned my shirt.

I removed her dress – underneath, black lingerie, thong, and stockings. Full breasts, erect nipples. I kissed them greedily, sucking hard. She moaned, digging her nails into my back.

– Take me here, now – she begged, wrapping her leg around my waist.

But I held back, building tension. I stroked her pussy through the thong – wet, hot. I slipped a finger in, rubbing her clit.

– You're so wet... for me? – I asked.

– Yes, since you walked in. Fuck me hard – she moaned.

The tension grew, the fitting room filled with our moans. I knew we were about to explode.

I couldn't wait any longer. I took Marta from behind, bending her over the mirror. I pulled the thong aside, and my hard cock slid into her wet pussy with one thrust. She was tight, hot – perfect.

– Yes, deeper! – she cried softly, biting her lip to stay quiet.

I thrust hard, gripping her hips. The mirror reflected everything: her bouncing breasts, my face contorted in pleasure. I was in ecstasy – my first time having sex in a fitting room, with a saleswoman who had measured me perfectly.

– Do you like how I check your size? – she asked breathlessly, turning her head.

– Damn, I love it. You're a goddess – I growled, speeding up. I spanked her ass lightly, and she writhed, moaning.

We changed positions – she sat on the small stool, spreading her legs. I slid in again, sucking her nipples. Her nails scratched my back, leaving red marks.

– Fuck me faster, I want to cum! – she begged.

I rubbed her clit, thrusting deep. I felt her clench around me. She exploded first – she cried out, trembling all over, flooding me with her juices.

– Now me... – I moaned, pulling out and directing the stream onto her stomach and breasts. Cum dripped down her skin, hot and abundant.

We collapsed breathless, laughing softly. We cleaned up quickly – tissues from the counter saved the day.

– Best customer ever – she whispered, kissing me.

– I'm buying this suit. And I'll come back for more precise measurements – I promised.

I left the store with the bag, the suit, and a memory that heated me up throughout the wedding. Marta winked goodbye – I knew it wasn't over. She really changed my life, showing how precision can be erotic.