The elevator announced the floor: "Floor 60. Executive suites. Wilson, Thompson, and Farewell."
Amanda Cole arrived for her appointment with Bill Wilson as scheduled. Dragging her leather sample case behind her, Ms. Cole took pride in being punctual. She arrived at Bill Wilson's administrative assistant's desk precisely at 11:30 am.
Bill Wilson shared the top floor of the 60 story office tower with his two senior partners. It was a luxurious space, but it was a suitable acknowledgement for the success of the firm. The floor provided for a gym, several meeting rooms and each partner, had a corner suite. Bill was the senior partner - he had the best view.
"Good morning Shelly. I have an appointment with Mr. Wilson at 11:30. I'm Ms. Cole, Amanda Cole. I'm his tailor. I'm actually replacing Tony.
One of the great perks Bill enjoyed was custom suit shopping in the office. He generally hated shopping; the quarterly tailor visits kept Bill looking sharp.
"Of course. Mr. Wilson is expecting you." She directed him to her boss's inner sanctum.
Amanda strode into Bill Wilson's spatial office with purpose, her black Stessy stiletto heels accentuating her lengthy athletic gams.
Shelly eyed Amanda's perfect beauty with envy, not that she was any slouch herself. Just turned 30, Yale Law, Shelly had been trying to hook her boss for the past six months. To no avail. And now this hussy was barging in, she thought.
Amanda was dressed in an impeccably tailored three-button blazer dress that accentuated her slim figure perfectly. The hem was cut just below mid-thigh and almost dangerously revealed her stocking tops with each stride.
Bill caught himself staring as she strode up to him, then composed himself.
"Mr. Wilson delighted to meet you," she extended her hand in a firm handshake.
"Likewise, but I was expecting Tony?"
"He's down, sadly. Covid. He's OK and recovering. He suggested me as the perfect match to service you. I'm double vaxed, by the way, and we have cleared you, so everything should be fine. Let's get started, shall we?"
"Hold on a sec," Bill said, raising his hand.
Amanda raised her hand to cut him off. "I've anticipated your objection. Let me settle this. I'm a woman. This is 2021, Mr.Wilson. I am a professional tailor. Actually, I'm a Master Tailor. I've apprenticed at the finest Saville Row establishments in London. I've also studied with the finest couturiers in Milan, Hong Kong, New York and New Delhi. I've trained under the top masters in this business. Bill. May I call you Bill? Let me assure you; you are in the finest of hands.
Bill nodded. OK. Already he was under her spell.
"So, let's begin." Amanda crouched on her haunches, spreading her knees to access her sample case and removed the fabric swatches. Inadvertently, or perhaps on purpose, she flashed Bill a lingering glimpse of her stocking welt, pale thighs and her sheer white lace panties.
She noticed his gaze.
"So Bill," as she clapped her knees and case shut, "what do you think about this season's samples," she directed his eyes to the swatches with a wry smile.
Bill was flustered.
"OK, Bill. I saw you peak. It's an occupational hazard. I don't mind. Did you notice the stockings?"
"... they're Falke, Lunelle 8 Peacock," Bill said.
"Oh my, I'm impressed. So you are a fan?! Here let me show you," and she swept up the hem of her dress. Bill got another fantastic glimpse of her feather-styled stocking tops, her pale thighs and lace panties. His cock was now swollen, though not erect, and it was all his mind could do to use willpower to control his arousal.
"Don't you just adore the peacock feather welt? They make me feel so sexy. Especially when someone catches a glimpse."
Just as suddenly, she dropped her hem and closed her legs, "So what would you like to see first stripes or solids?"
"Errr Solids," Bill stammered.
"Great."
Their conversation revolved around colours, styles and patterns. Bill was entirely under her spell, mesmerized by her perfectly manicured nails, the swell of her breast in her fitted suit dress, the red of her lips. Her voice. Her scent. What was that scent, he wondered? She was way better than Tony, he concluded.
"Amanda? If I may, what is that perfume you are wearing?"
"Of course, it is Eau de Amour. It's a secret blend - very potent. It is actually formulated as an arousal enhancer. So if one is caught up in its vapours, it enhances both their arousal and their partner's arousal. All righty then, Bill, so let's get the measurements done. I need you to strip now."
"Pardon!? I didn't have to strip when Tony took my measurements last visit."
"I know, but we have a new digital measurement algorithm and a new device that will improve and enhance the suit's fit. It's amazing. Now strip. Please."
Bill hesitated. It might have been her perfume, beauty, or the glimpse of her panties earlier, but his cock was filling, and his objection was quickly diminishing. Resistance was indeed futile.
"Relax, Bill. It's just down to your boxers. Don't worry; I'll preserve your modesty. You won't be the first man I've seen in their underpants," she smiled.
Bill shed his shirt. He hesitated at his pants, mentally checking if his underwear was clean; satisfied, he dropped them.
"Good job, Bill. Now. Our new fitting utility actually requires close contact device-to-skin measurements. I will be scribing various arches and lines across your body, front and back. No need to be embarrassed; I've seen and measured all shapes and sizes. And no sucking it in, mister. OK? These measurements need to be precise. Seriously, this suit fitting will be like none you have had before, and it will be the best suit you have ever had. Ready?"
