Doris Rogers was startled out of her concentration, as she had been admiring herself in one of the store's mirrors. She was a pretty girl, age 28, with a 34-30-34 figure and great legs. It was certainly true: they'd been open for hours, and they hadn't had a paying customer yet. Sure, there had been the usual lookers, and a few people even tried something on. But as far as buying something, there had yet to be a single transaction in the cash register.

"Well, I guess nobody wants something made of leather just now," answered Doris.

The two saleswomen looked over the store where they worked, and saw row after row of leather coats, skirts, pants, gloves, and hats. The entire store was filled with the sensual aroma of leather, making it smell and feel like no other store in the mall. Even the leather departments of the major department stores c...

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