Seeing that I had her attention, I continued "Something else you said was that knowing that I was getting excited by looking at you made those feelings even stronger. That sure sounds to me like seeing that I was getting excited by looking at you made you realize – consciously or not – that I could maybe be a… I don't know… safety valve of sorts for everything that you've been keeping pushed down. I mean, think about it: we're from two different towns, pretty much opposite ends of the economic spectrum, and basically just thrown together for just a single day. There isn't a chance in hell that I'd ever have the opportunity to try and wangle money out of you – even if I had the desire, which I don't. But I'm not really a complete stranger, either: you've gotten to know at least a little bit about me, after all. And because I'm a cab driver, and not some professional gigolo, you know that the reaction you got from me was true, and honest; I started to get hard not because you were paying me, but because of how you looked."
Taking a breath, I went on "That was even more obvious when you took the panties off, and then the bra – I mean, you did say that you needed me; and then later, that you'd go crazy if it didn't happen. Finally, there's the way you responded when it did happen; I already know that I'm not some great stud lover or anything, so those orgasms you had happened because you needed them – all I did was provide the necessary stimulation. I'm saying that I don't think that it was your 'fault', any more than it was mine. What I think maybe happened was just the unique match of you, and me, and here, and now. Just think about it: how many little things could have gone differently today that would have kept this from happening? That first time you asked me what I thought of something – what if I wasn't who I am, and had just said I thought it looked fine, instead of answering the way I did. Would you have gotten as interested in me as much as you did, and taken the time to learn about me, and get to know me? Would we have even been in this room together?"
I could see by the expression on her face and the look in her eyes that Katherine understood what I was saying, and was thinking about it. I simply shifted my position to rest on one knee while I waited to hear what she had to say in response.
A minute or so went by before she looked into my eyes and said "I… I think you're right. About it being just one of those freak occurrence kind of things, I mean. Except that I haven't experienced too many of those that have ended with semen leaking out of me!"
I couldn't help smiling as I replied "I don't doubt that's true. But then again, how many of them have there been where you've had orgasms?"
Giving me a surprisingly shy grin, she answered "Um… that would be the same number – just the one."
"There you go then; that just proves my point, don't you think?" I asked, grinning back at her.
"Be that as it may", she told me, "we still have something of a problem, here: how to get out of this place without them realizing that we've been in one of their changing rooms, fornicating like a couple of rabbits. This towel alone will have them talking for weeks, never mind the smell in here!"
Once she mentioned it, I realized that there was a distinct aroma of aroused female in the air. I considered things for a bit, then suggested "Would you be willing to dump some of whatever perfume you have with you right before we leave? You could claim you spilled it, and that would cover the smell."
It took her only a moment to respond "Yes, that would work quite well, I think. But this towel…"
"It goes with us, then. You obviously wouldn't have any reason to take it, so even if they notice a shortage in this room, they'll figure they just mis-counted somewhere along the line. If you'd like, I'll even be the one to take it."
"No, that won't be necessary; I have plenty of room in my handbag for it" she replied, somewhat absently – at the time, she was checking to see if all of my cum had drained out of her. Apparently deciding that it had, she moved to stand up again; I quickly got to my feet and helped her up. When she was on her feet, she finally noticed that I hadn't yet fastened my pants all the way. With a wry grin, she extended the towel to me, saying "If I'm going to be stealing this, you might as well get some use out of it, too!"
I couldn't help blushing slightly as I took it from her; as I started to turn around so I could clean up, she told me "James, this hardly seems the time to start getting bashful, after making me feel so good and dumping what felt like quarts of your semen in me!"
That only made me blush harder until I realized that not only was she not upset about what had happened, but that she was actually feeling somewhat playful. Taking what she said at face value, I simply unfastened my slacks again, and unconcernedly went about cleaning off my cock as she watched me. When I was done, I simply folded the towel over a few times so that the wettest part of it was on the inside before she gestured for me to set it next to her purse.
With our bodies more-or-less cleaned up, the next order of business was to get ready to make our exit; Katherine asked me to gather the bra and panty set while she got dressed again. I had picked them up and straightened them out so that they looked approximately like they had in the box when she asked me if I'd bring them to her behind the privacy screen. I wasn't prepared to find her wearing only a pair of stockings (sans garter belt) and pair of very brief, French-cut panties – but no bra. She was easily as attractive and appealing in her (apparently) original clothes as she'd been in the items from the shop, and I couldn't help looking her over again. She didn't seem to notice, and simply took the stuff and put it in the box with the other items after shuffling them around a bit.
My hands empty again, I took a step back so I could give her some privacy again, but she stopped me by saying "No, don't go. I could use your help with my dress."
I managed not to gawk at her too much as she stepped into the dress, then got it pulled up over her hips and her arms into the sleeves. I was still a little wrapped up in the idea that she'd been braless under it when she turned her back toward me and asked me to help her with the zipper. I did as she asked, trying not to notice that she contrived to get my hand on her ass to hold the dress steady as I ran the zipper up.
Once both of us were ready to face the world again, she had me take the box of stuff from the store and stand over by the door while she quickly poured a quantity of her perfume onto the small table behind the screen. She hurried to join me, and calmly buried the towel in the depths of her handbag. When the scent of her perfume was strong enough, she said "There, that should do it. Time for us to leave, James!"
I followed her back into the showroom, carrying the box of assorted items that she'd intended to try on. One of the clerks readily relieved me of that minor burden before asking Katherine if there was anything she was interested in. She calmly answered "Yes, I think I'd like all of them. There's no point to having you deliver them, so if you would be kind enough to wrap them, I can take them with me."
They readily agreed to that, and she paid for everything while they got it all packaged for her. Naturally, I carried the bag for her as we left.
Once we were outside, she quietly asked me "Is there someplace that we can put the towel? I'd just as soon not carry it around with me the rest of the day…"
"We can put it in the trunk, if you like. I lease the vehicle, so it goes home with me each night; I can take care of it for you this evening. If you'll watch to make sure I put this in the trunk properly, you can give it to me then."
Turning her head slightly, she gave me a smile before saying "Yes, that would do nicely. Thank you."