Giselle's Pleasure (An Invitation From A Fairy Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Giselle stopped at the doorway and took a deep breath. She’d never been inside a lingerie shop, much less wore something racy. In the past, she’d purchased her plain, white bras at the local department store. Just the thought of putting a teddy on her full-figure was enough to make her flush. Would she be brave enough to do it now?

A white-haired woman spotted her and opened the glass door, making the old-fashioned bells jingle. “Come in, come in,” she said in a cheerful voice as she held the door opened. “I’m Mrs. Harris, the proprietress of the store.”

Not wanting to hurt the older woman's feelings, she quickly stepped in. The door closed behind them, and Giselle was relieved to see they were the only ones in the store.

Mrs. Harris led her to a large, comfortable seating area set up in front of the cash register.  “You can leave your coat and briefcase here,” she said, gesturing towards a padded, leather chair. “It's hard to shop with your hands full.” Turning back to Giselle, she gave her a penetrating stare that seemed to see into her very soul. “How can I help you today?”

Giselle looked at the displays and mannequins, her brown eyes wide. The store was fully stocked with a wide variety of lingerie, from teddies to gowns. A glass case next to the register was lit up and fully stocked with sex toys and dildos. It was hard to picture the little, elderly lady running a shop like this. She was dressed very conservatively in slacks and a button-down shirt with a cardigan. Giselle gave a shake of her head, and pasted a pleasant, but shy, smile on her face.

“Well, uh, I’m not sure,” she finally stammered out. “Actually, I’ve never worn lingerie before.”

Mrs. Harris gave her a wink. “I’m sure we have exactly what you need,” she replied with a smile. “Are you and your husband celebrating a special event like an anniversary? If so, you’d probably want something romantic, like a teddy.”

Giselle shook her head as she laid her briefcase down. “I’m not married,” she told her as she pulled off her long coat. It brushed against her forgotten invitation, causing it to fall out on the heavy Persian rug.

Mrs. Harris bent down to pick it up, her expression unreadable. “Oh my, you got an invitation,” she said, her eyes quickly flicking up to Giselle’s face. “It has been a long time since I saw one of these. In fact, the last time I did was in the spring of 1987.”

Giselle looked at her in stunned surprise. “You’ve seen this before? I found it in the cab and wasn’t sure if it was even real.” She gave a short bark of laughter, feeling more and more foolish by the moment. She was 5’11, plump, and likely frigid. What business did she have in a lingerie shop planning on attending a sex party?

Mrs. Harris gave her a long and speculative look, her eyes narrowed behind the reading glasses she was wearing. Giselle felt like the woman was actually reading her thoughts and could see how desperate she truly was. It was not a pleasant feeling. Picking up her stuff she said uncomfortably, “You know, this was just a really bad idea.” Her cheeks were red with embarrassment.

“Don’t mind me, my dear,” the other lady responded with a quick shake of her head. “I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment. Won’t you have a seat? There’s a story I’d like to share with you.”

Giselle slid down into one of the waiting chairs, legs trembling from nerves. The seating area was actually very homey, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Deciding to indulge in casual sex was hard on the nerves, at least for her.

Mrs. Harris went to the front and quickly turned the door sign to close. “I can see that receiving the Invitation is throwing you for a loop. Maybe my story will be a help to you,” she said as she returned. “It’s obvious that you have many of the same doubts and confusion that I once had. Years ago, I got a very similar one, and it was life-changing.”

She sat down in the other chair. Pouring them both a cup of tea, she offered a plate of cookies. Giselle quickly accepted, anxious to hear what she had to say about the puzzling piece of paper. It was surreal that she was sitting in a lingerie shop in a strange city, having tea with a woman old enough to be her grandmother and discussing sex.

Mrs. Harris took a sip of her tea and looked off in the distance, lost in thought. She was actually very elegant with her perfectly-coiffed, white hair and gently-lined skin. She had a timeless and classic beauty that had aged well through the years. 

Reaching down, she pulled out a very old photo album and quickly flipped through it. “In 1942, I was just a shy young woman. My beau was in the army and had just been sent overseas to fight in World War 2.

She pointed at a picture in the album, and Giselle leaned over for a peek. The woman looking back at her had a calm and serene face with dark hair and eyes. Her presumption was correct. Even that young, Mrs. Harris had the beginnings of an elegance that Giselle could still see today.

Giselle nodded and looked back at her, waiting for her to continue. “People often commented on what a calm and well-mannered young lady I was. Deep inside, though, I was a hotbed of lust, curiosity, and sexuality. I felt like I was on the cusp of some type of significant awakening,” she told her, taking another sip of her tea. “But I wasn’t sure what that was.”

A slight grimace crossed her features. “I realized before my beau left that I had no great ambitions to become his wife. He was dull and self-absorbed, but he came from the right family which was very important back then.” She flipped the page and showed Giselle a picture of an unassuming male with glasses and a plain, brown suit.

Giselle was enchanted by the story. “What happened then?”

Mrs. Harris leaned back, lost deep in her memories. “After he left I just drifted along, wanting something more in life but not sure how to find it. Most of the men were gone by this time, fighting in another country. It was up to the women to hold down the home front, and that’s what we did.”

“I was a bit different than most of the women in my days, though, and I was no longer a virgin. I had went to bed with Arthur before he left, but not because he necessarily wanted it. He was always content with chaste kisses. In hindsight, I realize he was a very passionless man. ” She met Giselle’s eyes and grimaced. “I found it to be a very disappointing experience. There was no great explosions to be found in that forbidden embrace, and quite honestly, I wanted more than Arthur would have ever been able to give me sexually. I didn't see any other options for escaping the upcoming marriage that my family wanted me to have, and it was a very bitter pill to swallow.”

“I worked in an office, cleaning up after they closed. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it helped my family with the bills. One evening, a knock came on the main door. The office was closed, so I knew it was important. Opening the door I discovered an invitation exactly like the one you have there. It had been placed on the top step, crisp and shiny. There was no one in sight, but it had obviously been left for me.”

She smiled at Giselle. “As I mentioned before, I wasn’t as sweet and innocent as I let on to be. As I stood there holding it, I realized that deep inside I had some dark spots. I had pretty much accepted that life would hold no sexual pleasure for me. If I was going to have to spend my life in a passionless marriage, why not accept that invitation and experience the forbidden? It would probably be the only chance I'd ever get.”

“Wow,” Giselle said gustily. “That almost sums my life up, but I don’t have any prospects in sight.” She grabbed a cookie up from the plate and munched on it, thoughtfully. “That’s why I’m here in Chicago on business. I never had much of a love life to begin with, so I decided to put my energy towards important things like work.”

Mrs. Harris chuckled. “Never say never, my dear.” She pointed at the invitation. “Especially since you have received one of those. Now, where was I?”

“You were about to tell me if you accepted the invitation,” Giselle prompted, eager to hear how the story ended.

“In a heartbeat,” the older woman exclaimed. “It wasn’t easy slipping out that night, but I managed to get away. Luckily for me my parents were throwing a small dinner party that night, which kept them pretty occupied. The address was to a building in the warehouse side of town.” She grabbed the paper and looked at it. “Yours is too.”

“Then what happened?”

Her eyes were twinkling. “I think I’ll let you find that out for yourself,” she responded with a smile. “Most fantasies are different, aren’t they? I will say, though, that it changed my life. When Arthur returned, I ended our relationship and became the woman I was destined to be. My parents were very unhappy about my decision, but they had to accept it.”

She flipped the pages on her album, revealing a very handsome, dark-haired man. He smiled straight at the camera and had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “A few weeks after my illicit night I met Mr. Harris, and let me say, he has never been a disappointment in or out of the bedroom. I would have never met him if I wouldn’t have taken that chance.”

Giselle’s heart raced in excitement. “So, it’s really real?”

Mrs. Harris winked at her. “You better believe it. I don’t know who or how the recipients of these invitations are chosen, but it seems to be for the women that most desperately need it. That’s why I eventually opened up this lingerie shop. I wanted to help women enjoy the physical side of love.” She looked down at her watch. “If you plan on attending, you had better get a move on!”

Giselle nodded thoughtfully before looking up at her. “I’m going to do it,” she said, staunchly. “You’ve been there before, what would you recommend I wear?”

Mrs. Harris was slow to respond, taking her time as she stared at her body with an objective look. She stood up and walked to the back where her bras and panties were displayed. “Why, as little as possible, dear,” she finally replied, her voice trailing off as she walked away. “Where you are going less is definitely more.”

Chapter Three

Giselle stepped out of the cab onto the dark street, the invitation clasped tightly in her hand. It was very quiet and isolated in this area of town, and a shiver ran across her body. If it hadn’t been for Mrs. Harris, Giselle doubted she would have had the nerve to come. Directly across the street was a metal door, shut tight, with a lone light above the frame. The street number on the wall revealed it as her destination.

“You sure this is the right address?” The cabbie rolled his window down and looked up and down the street with a puzzled expression on his face. “I mean, why would anyone want to get out here? There is nothing interesting on this side of town. It's just a bunch of warehouses that have seen better days.”

She counted out his fare and added an extra $20. “Yes,” she replied, looking around carefully. “This is where I want to be. Could you wait until I give a wave before leaving?”

The cabbie greedily grabbed the money. “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he replied cheerfully. “It’s your funeral.”

God, she hoped not.

Pulling the expensive black trench coat tighter, she walked across the street and steadily up to the metal door. Her shiny black pumps echoed loudly through the silence of the night. Standing at 5’11, it was very rare she wore a shoe with any type of heel. Giselle just hoped she didn’t fall and make a complete fool out of herself.

Mrs. Harris had talked her into the complete ensemble. Underneath her trench coat, she was wearing nothing but a 44 DD black, push-up bra, matching panties, and thigh-highs. The bra was feathered and extremely sensual against her pale skin. The thigh-highs were standalone, not requiring any type of support. The panties caged her femininity and rear in an open design. Mrs. Harris certainly knew her business. She couldn’t ever recall a time she’d ever felt hotter.

She knocked briskly on the cold metal. The cabbie still sat in the middle of the street, watching her curiously. There was nothing but silence from the other side of the door. Raising her hand, she knocked briskly again. This time she heard movement and took a step backwards.

An extremely short man dressed in a black tuxedo opened the heavy metal door. He had a cigar in one hand and a clipboard in the other. Not wasting any time, he stared up at her with narrowed, calculating eyes. “Name, please?”

“Giselle Miller,” she responded, hesitantly. She was a little stunned at the person standing in front of her. “What would that matter, though? I’m not even sure the invitation was for me.”

He took in her full measure as he puffed on his cigar. “Believe me, we know who receives our invitations. I can assure you that it was definitely meant for you.” He looked down at his clipboard. “See, I found you right here. Follow me, please.” He held the door and waited for her to pass through.

She hesitated in the doorway, feeling awkward and gauche. He was an odd host for a sex party, and she had the horrifying thought that he would be her partner for the evening. It wasn't as if she had anything against shorter people, but at her size and height it would not be something she wanted to experience. There was at least a 3 ½ foot difference in their heights.

He looked up at her again. “As if you would be so lucky,” he grunted out impatiently. “I'm the host, not the entertainment.”

Giselle swallowed back the sigh of relief and turned back to the cabbie, giving him a wave goodbye. He was watching the exchange unfold with utter fascination before the door slammed shut in his face. The little man gestured for her to follow him through the dimly lit hallway.