A Bra Fitting

I went into a well known establishment to be fitted for a new bra after having lost weight. I arrived in time for my appointment. Once inside I was welcomed to the red velvet draped fitting room. Looking around, the ceiling has “bra chandelier’s” where women have discarded their old bras from box stored after having been professionally fitted at this establishment.
My professional fitter had warm eyes and long honey blonde hair and I tried to not blush when I held eye contact with her. She had a foreign accent and that has always turned me on to hear other people speak from their more worldly experiences.
She explained that I would undress from the wait up and she would come in and measure me and returned with bras to try on in my size.
She stepped out, I un dressed and before I grew uncomfortable looking at myself in the mirror she arrived at the other side of the curtain. She asked to step inside and I gave an awkward, “come in”.
She stepped thru the curtains and I was expecting measuring tape, but she just looked at my bare chest, asked me to turn around and then she said she would be back with bras.
I was starting to doubt this.
She returned with all kinds of beautiful bras. I put one on and she adjusted the should straps and then she reached into the cup of my bra to adjust my breasts sitting within the cup. I was shocked, but it felt rather pragmatic.
She then said she would step out while I tried some on.
I started to try out different styles and fabrics of bras. She returned and asked if I would be interested in the perfect bra to wear under a t shirt and I said yes.
She left as I was undoing a sports bra hooks. She returned with a see thru bra I was not familiar with.
She offered to help out it on.
She placed the underwire under my breasts and moved her hands up to my nipples and gave them a tug. “I want you to see how your nipple erection shows thru the bra, let me get you a T shirt. What color?”
I finished hooking the bra behind my back and she returned with a blush colored t shirt and handed it over to me. I looped my arms through the opening and pulled it over my head and smooth the shirt out. From behind she approached, wrapped her hands around my breasts and tugged at my nipples.
“What do you think?”
“Well, I grew up always trying to conceal them.”
“Nonsense. Nipples like yours should always be on display.”
She then moved her hands to my hips and she turned me around, pressed me up against the mirror and kissed me.
I finally got to touch her soft skin and my tongue returned her eagerness.
We quietly made out, fingered each-other and took turns tasting each other.
I left satisfied and purchased $300 worth of bras that day.
I go back every 3-4 months. She no longer works there but I still feel the energy when I walk through the door for a fitting.

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  • I have a camera in that fitting room. I can't tell you how many times I have jacked off watching the two of you.

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