0 comments/ 66875 views/ 1 favorites Changing Room By: lulubabe The changing rooms are new, it’s a while since I’ve been to this leisure complex and I’m well impressed. They’re unisex, just rows of cubicles next to rows of lockers. Once I’m changed and in my cozzie I stash my bag in a locker and turn the key, looking round, and as I do so the cubicle door next to me opens and I look at you and smile. I walk to the shower and stand under it stretching my arms up, laughing with the tingle of the hot water on my body; again you’re next to me in the shower. Out of the corner of my eye I watch the rivulets of water course down your muscles. Casually I walk past you into the pool and climb down the steps. I’m holding onto the wall when there’s a huge splash and you’ve done a great flash dive by the side of me, making me cough and gulp water. Unimpressed I move away and start swimming my lengths, and I see you zooming up and down the pool like a torpedo in Speedos. You’re still at it by the time I’ve finished and I make my way over to the steps; we narrowly avoid bumping as you perform a flash tumble turn and stop, smiling at me. Mmm, I think, nice smile. You ask me whether I’ve finished and I tell you nearly, you say you only have a few left to do and you’ll catch me inside. I smile and agree politely and head for the shower. When I’m showered I’m putting my bag in the cubicle, when I turn round to close the door you’re standing in the frame. I look at you confused, as you slip in with me and lock the door. You hold a finger to my lips and tell me not to make a sound or they’ll throw us both out. I’m so stunned that it does not occur to me to disagree. “I saw you watching me showering” you say. “And what were you watching then?” “Your breasts.” This time it’s your honesty that stuns me into silence. Slowly you reach out and brush one of my nipples, not that they could have got any firmer. “So, how wet are you now?” “Too wet.” In response you pick up my towel and gently dry my arms, the combination of tenderness and the invasion of privacy is spinning my head. “Close your eyes.” Why am I obeying you? Jeez. There’s a rustling noise then as I open my eyes to check what you’re doing you’re fixing a leather shoelace from one of my boots round a wrist. I try to pull away but all that swimming has built up your muscles and you’re yanking me over to the bench for me to stretch up to the cage over the cubicle, the one that’s designed to keep out perverts, and you’re looping it over before tying round my other wrist. I’m begging you to untie me but you just look at me, tell me you’ve got to finish your lengths, and walk out the cubicle. I gape at the closed door, but then it opens. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be back for you…” It's hard to know how long I'm in there, with one foot on the ground, the other braced against the door, stopping it from swinging open. Once the door moves and I strain desperately against it, fortunately the handle's released and the swimmer moves away. It moves again and I push even harder, but you call "Let me in" and I release it. It swings wide open and you stand in the doorway. I glare and look anxiously at the door. You smirk and swagger in with your sports bag. Slowly you close the door and lock it. I breathe out. "Enjoy your swim?" I ask. You nod and say mildly "Yes thanks." SLAP! Your towel stings off my legs. "Sarcasm is a very bad habit." "No! Really?" SLAP! We laugh. SLAP! "Over-familiarity." SLAP! SLAP! "Because I felt like it." I look down at the red marks on my legs and ass, then back up at you, you take his trunks off and he's naked in front of me. Not bad, I think, not bad at all. You reach inside your sports bag and pull out a bottle of water. You take a long swig and offer it to me. I take some too, then it's empty. "Thirsty?" you ask. "No, fine thanks." SLAP! "Wrong." Yes, a wee bit." You take the empty bottle. A small smile curves the outside of your lips and my stomach spasms. “Nervous?” “Erm, yes.” “Trust me. You don’t even know what we’re going to do.” “We?” “Well, I’m going to help you to do it.” Uhhhh no, not that, gross. But my expression must show because you’re laughing now. “That’s right, clever girl. Now stand still, only move for me when you’re told.” Softly you part my legs, one hand firm on each inner thigh. I swallow and look away, trying unsuccessfully not to let you arouse me any further. Now your thumbs are moving higher and higher, sliding inside of my swimming costume, moving to one side and exploring me so that I let out a long shuddering gasp. Instantly one of your thumbs is on my mouth, and you’re shushing me, giving me a watchful, warning look. I nod, eyes wild. Instead of moving your thumb back down below you slide it to the outside of my mouth, I turn and take it, melting inside and closing my eyes. When I re-open them I see your cock is twitching and I smirk. SLAP! “Don’t get smug. I’m in charge here, remember?” I nod. Thumb still in my mouth, exploring my mouth, the other holding me so I’m quivering at your touch. But it’s not your thumb but your finger that you slide in, tickling me so that I’m moist, so fucking moist for you. Then both hands are off me; you laugh at the disappointment and frustration in my eyes, and take your bottle. It’s cold against me and slowly you press it tight. “Go on.” Deep breath, eyes down now, squirming. “Go ON!” Eyes shocked, looking up at you again. “Fucking do it! And if you make any drips you won’t like it” Nodding. Eyes down in embarrassment. Doing what I’m told. It’s very strange, the only time with you I’ve been self-conscious. The bottle fills quarter-full before I stop. As I close my eyes from the humiliation I feel the bottle gently removed. “Thirsty?” “No thanks.” “No no, I insist.” I look at you with a hatred that makes you laugh. You lift it to my mouth, but I turn my head and it trickles down my chin. My skin prickles at the look in your eyes as you suck in air. Slowly, deliberately, you pour some on the changing room floor tiles. You close the bottle and place it gently down. Then you’re up beside me untying my wrists; I gasp and rub the marks as the blood flows back before you’re pushing me roughly down on my hands and knees on the floor. “Lick it up, bitch.” I kneel, spread my legs, and lean forward, pretending to lick, but you push my face down into it so that I gasp and rub my eyes. “You think I’m blind? Or just fucking stupid?” Shaking my head. Kneeling still, licking for real this time, and you stand silently watching me for a minute. Then you’re walking round the back of me and pulling off my cozzie, making me undress while still licking. We’re both naked as beasts, and I spread my legs further apart for you as you climb in close. You rub your cock up and down between my cunt and my ass, and I lift my cheeks, moaning softly as you push deep inside, and despite your warnings squealing as I feel a finger deep inside my ass. It’s hard to brace myself on the wet floor, and soon my face is covered in little marks from the bumps on the tiles. It feels good, so good that I don’t want you ever to stop, but I know that if you keep playing with my ass like that I’m not gonna last very long and there’s no way I can stay silent for you. Your thrusts get harder and harder and you take out your finger so you can hold my thighs tight as you thrust deep, your balls swinging against me so I wriggle with delight, as you pump me faster and faster until with one big thrust you’re almost lifting me over the floor as you’re spurting hot and deep in your bitch as I’m fumbling wildly so I don’t skid all over the floor. Suddenly you’re out of me and I curl up on the tiles hugging my knees. You hand me my costume and I put it on, deciding it’s time for a shower. When I return you’re gone, and all I have to show for it are sore wrists, a dazed feeling, a faceful of marks and thighs full of red fingermarks. Changing Room I was not surprised by his reaction. As he was 'reviewing' the clothing, of course he would be looking at the outfit. So he had the perfect excuse to stare. I did a little twirl so he could see the back. He said, "That is pretty sheer." He had a very good look when I suddenly acted as though I just realized what he could see. I brought the wrap around to cover me, "Oh, my god." He said, "I'm sorry, hey, don't worry, it's our secret." "It's OK, it's just weird how this all came about and now I am in a store in a nightgown in front of a stranger." This feigned surprise and modesty as he had been watching let him know he had gotten away clean. I closed up the curtain as before and slipped out of the nightgown seeing he had taken up his normal place. I was fully aware I had been mercilessly teasing him, but of course I also noticed he was not complaining. Through the gaps in the changing room curtain, he was getting his little glimpses here and there. When I was out in the main mirror area he was getting a more thorough look at me, but of course I was dressed then, albeit in a skimpy outfit without a bra. However, in the negligee in full view, I knew I had been driving him crazy. I know I am good looking and it is never a problem to attract men, but the erotic aspect to this situation made the effect especially heightened. He said, "I never wanted you to be uncomfortable, but it would be a lie to say I have not enjoyed your modeling." I handed him the dress and said, "I am not sure which of these you are buying." He said he was going with the original red dress and the nightgown I was wearing for today. I replied, "I guess I sold this one." He looked at me and said, "If you were the catalog model for that, they could never have enough to satisfy the demand." It felt nice to hear the compliment and I smiled and thanked him. I took off the covering and handed it to him. He was rapt with attention, again looking at the thin nightgown. My nipples were still hard and prominently displayed. As I snuck a peek down at his crotch, it appeared as though he had gotten aroused as I could see a very obvious bulge in his pants. A part of me recognized my ability to do that to men and it would be wrong to say I did not relish it. I reached up and said, "I had better close this curtain or we'll get arrested." Without a second lost, he said, "It might be worth it." I gave a slight laugh but I closed up the curtain, but when I did I purposely closed it to overlap in the center gap and left a couple inch gaps between the curtain and the wall, bigger than before. But this time the 'window' was on the opposite side to where it had been earlier, so his earlier position would have been no use. I could tell from the mirror he was still standing close to the curtain. This time if he wanted to look he was going to have to be bold. I had my back to the curtain when I saw him shift his feet over near the gap. He said, "I'll be out here. When you have the negligee ready, let me know and I'll take it up." I thought to myself it was a very smooth excuse to remain there and I replied, "OK, thanks." Then I looked at the mirror and I saw him turn his head to look at me. I slid one of the shoulder straps off and then the other but I was holding the gown up with my arms. I then started to let it slide down. When my nipples were exposed, I looked over and looked directly at his eyes through the mirror. Our eyes held each other for a second when I turned around to face him. We both had serious expressions as I let the nightgown slip to the floor. I was now standing completely nude in front of a total stranger. I saw his eyes move down my entire body, lingering for a second at my breasts and then my pussy. The innuendo was gone now. Here I was standing nude in a store in front of a perfect stranger. It was a totally bizarre thing I was doing, but I was absolutely aroused and saw that Steve was also. While I think my best features are first my face and then my generally athletic body, for sure there are a lot of guys who might select my breasts first. I have natural 34 full C cup breasts which are not close to sagging. In this case, my nipples were already erect and it had nothing to do with being cold. I stepped out of the nightgown and bent down to pick it up. I was holding it in my hand close to my body and said softly, "Here you go Steve." He reached his hand into the booth toward the nightgown but instead touched my breast. It felt totally electric as his fingers lightly caressed the underside of my breast first, circled around to the side, and then finally touched my nipple. He instinctively got it perfect for me by being gentle and light at first. He then gave my breast a squeeze. As he removed his hand, I then handed him the negligee and smiled. After he took it out, I closed up the curtain. When I could see he had moved away, presumably to pay, I could not stop myself from rubbing my pussy with one hand while squeezing my breast with the other. I was sopping wet and I knew it would have been only seconds before I could have given myself an orgasm. I stopped that idea though and told myself how crazy this all had been. Even though I have had a number of "adventures" over the past few years, I had never had one this close to home. I tried to put this all out of my head and got dressed. I was carrying my coat as I left the changing area. I had to go by the clerk's desk to leave the store. Steve was just finishing up paying for the items. The clerk gave me her card, "Give me a call when you are shopping next time. If you send me your e-mail, I'll let you know in advance of big sales and hold something for you." I told her that was very nice of her, but I had only been joking about the commission. I had already decided not to buy the sweater or the dress. There was no way for me to know how much the clerk suspected, but that was one of the reasons I would end up throwing away her card and also why I did not buy anything. I did not want her to know my name. It had long been a dream to be a model, although this had been admittedly a bit bizarre. Actually, being a fashion model, photography model, etc really was one of my strongest fantasies. In addition, the little exhibition game we had just played had been unplanned, but really a lot of fun and really exciting. I said to the clerk, "Thank you, I will." And that was that. She finished bagging up everything for Steve, so it really was only a coincidence he and I were walking out together. He asked me if I was going to do any more shopping and I told him I needed to leave. I did have more time and I still needed to get a gift, but the events which had just transpired had me a little excited but also a little nervous and my mind was really not on shopping anymore. My conservative nature took over at this point and I really needed to bring things back under control. He said, "Oh, too bad, I wanted to buy some lingerie for her too." He had caught me unprepared with that remark; I could not help laughing out loud. All through the modeling show and while I was getting dressed finally, I had thought about where this was going. I realized he had been given clear signals sexually from my teasing, but I had really no intentions to pursue this further. I did not know what his reaction would be when I came out. Would he try to follow me, or get me to go somewhere with him? I felt in control again, but my plans had been to part ways and leave us both with a nice memory. This still was too close to home and while he was a nice guy, I thought this was a good place to stop. "Nice try buddy," but I said it while still laughing. We walked out into the mall together and he said, "Well, you can't blame me for trying." We were talking softly even though the mall had very few people and none nearby. The light dialog had relaxed me a little and my nervousness subsided. I said, "You saw a lot more than you would have in a lingerie store. I should take you out to model Speedo's I want to buy for my boyfriend." This made him laugh, "Touché, but I don't think you really want to see me in a Speedo." "I think you get my point." He continued smiling and said, "Where are you parked, can I at least buy you a coffee and walk you out?" We were parked in different directions, but I told him a cappuccino sounded good, but I need it to go. "No problem, I am parked near the Starbucks. I could give you a ride to your car." My instincts told me he was safe, so I accepted and we got our coffees and headed outside. It was cold out, but he was parked close. He opened my door and then got in and started the car. "Beth, I really enjoyed the modeling show. You were a good sport, but the last part where you were standing there in front of me was incredible. I hope you are not offended that I touched you like that. This sort of thing never happens to me, absolutely fantastic." I replied, "I don't know what came over me, it became fun modeling and then the exhibitionist part just sort of happened. It is not like you were alone in this." Some of it for sure was spontaneous and impulsive, but I was conscious of what I had been doing and had enjoyed it entirely. The parking lot was not very full, but we could not have been parked farther away from each other if we had tried. I was actually across the road in the parking structure. This mall was very upscale and had an overhead skywalk from one side to the other. Steve pulled out and we continued talking, mostly small talk about which cities we lived in, kind of work, all general things as I did not want to reveal much personal information after what had happened. I said, partially to shift the subject, "I hope your wife likes the dress and negligee, I presume you are not going to tell her about the modeling session?" He replied, "No, I think I will keep that pleasant memory to myself. But I think she will like the things and I hope you will not mind if I say it is 100% certain when I see her wear them that I will remember how you looked in them." He had touched the arm of my coat while he said that, not intimidating in any way, more that some people touch when talking to other people. I directed him to where I was parked and he pulled in next to my car. He offered to start my car and let it warm up. I thanked him for the gesture, but told him it was all right. I did not want to leave it like this, so I said, "Listen Steve, as long as you keep it a secret, I will admit the modeling was a lot of fun and I probably liked it as much as you did. I surprised myself." "I wondered about that, especially at the end. Well, I am glad you enjoyed it too, because I have not been that turned on in a long time." I laughed again, "It was rather prolonged, wasn't it?" He touched my arm again while I was taking another drink from my cappuccino, "I cannot imagine anything more erotic, to be honest. Unbelievable." I smiled back, "Like I said, it was good for me too, so we seem to have been on the same wavelength today." He then touched me again. We both had on heavy coats for the weather, but he moved his had up my arm and gently touched my breast. However, even with a bra, sweater and heavy coat, the touch still sent a strong signal to my body, obviously a lot of it mental as a result from the earlier experience. I could not really be offended since I had let him touch my bare breast earlier. However, I said, "Steve, I have enjoyed meeting you very much and this has been an exciting experience, but I did not agree to your offer to drive me to my car because I had intended to continue things." He had not removed his hand from my breast but paused his rubbing. Even with my comments to him, I was torn somewhat and a part of me regretted that I had made him stop his touching. The pressure of his hand alone was stimulating. He said, "Hey, no problem. I don't have any expectation here, but I was just going to enjoy it for as long as you would let me." I looked at him without saying anything. He smiled at me and I returned it. A lot was going through my mind. Despite the fact we were in a parking structure and that we had just met, I felt safe and comfortable. He had been intelligent and discrete during the entire episode and he had a nice manner about himself. While he was significantly older than me, he was not unattractive. I really have to admit if I had not found him reasonably attractive from the start, even the modeling would not have occurred. We were looking at each other silently when he began caressing me again. Let the record be clear that I did not stop him. I closed my eyes for a second and I felt him slide his hand inside my coat and touch my sweater. My right hand was still holding my coffee, but I reached up with my left hand and held his forearm. He still had his hand on my sweater, but now I was looking at him, "Steve, that feels nice, but remember where we are. What if somebody comes by? I am sure neither of us wants any trouble. I like what you are doing, but please be careful." He said, "Don't worry; I will stop whenever you like. But don't worry; you have nothing to be afraid of." I continued to look at him and he gently moved his hand over my sweater, again touching my breast, but this time with one less layer. It was a fairly significant gesture, but I looked around and then lowered my hand from his arm and he started to caress my breast again. Nobody was nearby and his touch felt great. I closed my eyes again as he continued to touch me. He unbuttoned my coat and I felt his hand quickly slip under my sweater at my waist and slide up my stomach. His hand on my bare skin made me suppress a gasp. His hand quickly slid up to my bra and he again began massaging me. It felt like we were teenagers on a first date; it was wonderful. He broke the silence, "You have magnificent breasts." I opened my eyes, "You have been admiring them for a while now." He smiled and fumbled with his hands now. He had been so smooth up until now, but now he was struggling. He first tried to lift my bra up but the bottom band was too tight for that. He tried sliding it down then but was also stymied. He feigned a laugh, "Help!" I said, "You haven't needed any help, I was trying to figure out a way to stop you." Despite me saying it, it was more idle chatter. From the tone of my voice, he realized I did not really want him to stop. He replied laughingly, "Are you telling me this bra is going to be the holdup?" I did not respond but I leaned forward. He got the message and reached his other hand behind me and found the back hooks. He got smooth again quickly and had my bra unfastened in a couple of seconds on the first try. We both laughed as he said, "Voila." He now had easy access and his hand quickly found my now bare breast. When his hand squeezed me, a wave of passion rolled through my entire body. He rolled my hard nipple between his fingers for a few seconds and then resumed his wonderful caress, never too harsh. He then had me lean forward again and helped me remove my coat and then lifted my sweater. My sweater would only go up so high, as I did not want to remove it completely because of where we were. Nevertheless, he was able to expose my breast completely. I felt like a teenager again, but I was not complaining. He leaned over and brought his mouth to my nipple. I melted. I had rested my arm on his back while he continued to gently suck and bite on my breast. He had his coat on also but it still felt good as I rested my hand on him and rubbed his back. I was not sure where this was going, but I was enjoying it immensely. He sat up and then slid his hand down my stomach and quickly placed his hand down on my jeans. He tried to rub my pussy through my jeans but I grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Steve, there is no way that is going to happen here. You don't have to stop, but this is not the place for that. C'mon, I thought you were enjoying yourself." I lifted his hand back up to my breast. He got the message. I was aroused enough to want sex. His touch to my pussy felt fantastic and I almost let him continue. But I really was not comfortable having sex in a car in a public place with a man I had just met and I again wanted to get some semblance of control of the situation. The second I had gotten into the car, I had expected Steve would try to make some move on me. Knowing that, and being true to myself, I wanted him to touch me. I had not known how far I was going to let things go when I entered, but I knew having sex was way past what I would allow even though I would have liked a hard cock deep inside me. As I looked at him, he lifted his hand back to my stomach. I lowered my hand off his arm and the way he was leaning over, my hand rested on his knee. As he was caressing my stomach, his little finger was trying to unfasten the top of my jeans, but when I stopped him again, he again got the message and moved up to again massage my breast. I again lowered my hand to rest on his knee. He looked at me and smiled, indicating he knew the limits. In return, I smiled back and squeezed his knee. He leaned over again to begin licking and sucking on my breast. As he did that, he shifted in the seat and my hand was now resting on his thigh. His car had not much in the way of a center console and the arm rest folded up, so it was really not that awkward, but there is really no way to be totally comfortable in a car. I had also thought it was too risky to expose too much where we were sitting. Even though the parking structure was very quiet, there was still a risk of security patrols or passersby. He went back to concentrating on my breasts and I continued enjoying it. He had his right hand on my left breast and his left hand was around my waist while he enjoyed alternately licking and sucking my hard nipples. I was again really into his very gentle and attentive caresses and touches. At some point, I began squeezing his leg and he let out a sound of enjoyment while he continued his attention to my breast. After a few minutes, Steve sat up again, maybe leaning over for so long was a little awkward and he needed to stretch a little. He said, "I like that, but I wish we were someplace a little more comfortable." "I know, but we need to make do." It was becoming clear to me by this point. It was not sex I wanted right then, or we easily could have found a nearby hotel. Just as being exposed in the changing room earlier, the idea of having Steve touching and sucking on my breasts was both physically stimulating and exciting due to the possibility of getting caught. The exhilaration of being in public was absolutely part of the excitement. I shifted in my seat too, sort of facing him now. My sweater came down to cover me and Steve took his right hand to lift it up again and stroke my breasts again. I was content to let him enjoy the touching as it was also pleasurable for me. He removed his coat and tossed it in the back seat. He leaned forward again to take my breast in his mouth. I continued to rest my hand on his leg and then moved it to rest on his back. With his coat off, the feel on my hand was different as I gently stroked his lower back over his shirt. His hands were always gentle, but roaming all over. Sometimes he would squeeze my other breast, sometimes rub my lower back, and sometimes reach down to try and cup my ass or stroke my thigh. He had received the message about trying to remove my jeans or rub my pussy. I was not going to let it get any farther, but I also did not want him to stop. His gentle way was very appealing. He sat up again after a few minutes more minutes. He put his hand under my hair and lightly touched the back of my neck. He could not know this drives me crazy. I closed my eyes to enjoy it. He was apparently perceptive about my reaction as he shifted his position a little closer so he could reach around easier. I liked this a lot and hunched my head and shoulders down, resting my arms on his leg while he touched me. This part was electric, I could feel my nipples harden again and let out a purr. Changing Room At one point, he started to rub my breast with one hand and my neck with the other. I probably cannot have an orgasm this way, but his touch was just perfect, the right combination of feather lightness and gentleness, and I could come close. I had my hands resting on his leg during this, my right hand on his knee and my left hand about mid-thigh. As he would find just the right touch, I would react by squeezing his leg, essentially responding when he was doing it just right. He recognized it as well and continued more or less doing it perfectly most of the time, his hands floating over my back, neck and breasts. This went on for a nice while when I began to sit up straighter, "Steve, you do that very well. I think my modeling has been very well rewarded." I am not the type to sexually take care of my own desires and leave my partner hanging. I was thinking about how great he had made me feel and to what degree I would reciprocate or even whether I should at all given the circumstances. He laughed at that, "Oh, I should admit that part was selfish on my part. I liked how you were squeezing my leg." When I had sat up, I had pulled my hands back. I smiled at his comment and sat back in the seat as he put his arm around my shoulder. I reached my left hand and placed it on his leg near the knee. He said, "It is pretty easy to tell when you like something." I turned my body to look up at him, "You would be surprised that many men don't bother trying to figure out what women like, but I noticed you were very perceptive. Thank you, that felt great." He smiled back as I rubbed my hand on his knee, "I also saw what you liked." My hand was still near his knee, but I was lightly stroking his leg when he closed his eyes and smiled. I expanded my gentle rubbing a little farther down his leg. He had his arm around me, but he was really just relaxing as I drew little circles with my fingers or rubbed back and forth on his thigh. As I would change my pattern back and forth, I was gradually expanding my zone of touching. At the farthest now, I was extending my touch more than halfway down his thigh. Occasionally I would also include a small squeeze, but as he had been to me, all would be characterized as gentle. He would move his leg a little as this was going on, almost rhythmically in response to my touch. This would result in my fingers on his inner thigh and would usually trigger a change in his breathing or a tensing of his leg muscles. He would soon relax though. Sometimes I would move my hand back up near his knee as if I was not going to touch any farther down his leg, but I would not keep that up too long and maybe go another inch lower every couple of minutes. It was pretty obvious from the growing bulge in his pants he was enjoying this immensely and I continued to expand my touch zone. Of course I was teasing him too. I knew that, but he could not have. I had set all the limits on everything that day, from the changing room to the earlier session in the car where he had been touching me. I still felt in control of the situation. If I had not been comfortable, I would have ended it. That I knew it could be ended anytime increased my comfort level significantly. I really enjoy sex. I like how a considerate partner makes me feel and I am well able to return the favor. What maybe separates me from other women is that giving pleasure to a man is not something I do grudgingly, but willingly. I like being able to get a man hard and I enjoy being able to bring him to orgasm. But it is more than just that. I like the feeling myself and I wanted to suck his dick. I reached down farther on his inner thigh until I glanced against his balls. I slid my finger along his balls and again felt him hold his breath momentarily. I did that a couple of more times until I had mercy and slid my hand all the way to his knee and then came back slowly, slowly down until I felt his already hard dick. I ran the palm of my hand and fingers all over him, rubbing his dick and balls. He was obviously enjoying this; probably he had been carrying a hard-on since the beginning of the changing room show. He opened his eyes for the first time in a while when I unbuckled his belt. He was watching me intently as I undid the top of his pants and lowered the zipper. I doubt anyone would be surprised if I report he did not try and stop me. I reached under his shorts and felt his warm, hard dick and squeezed him. I looked up and smiled at him while I did that. At first he smiled back, but he quickly closed his eyes again as I reached down and felt for his balls. I whispered, "Lift up so I can slide your pants down." He opened his eyes again while he lifted up off the seat. I used both hands to slide his pants and shorts down to expose his hard dick. He was not the biggest guy I had ever seen, but he was a little bigger than average and his dick was nice looking; smooth and soft. I grabbed the shaft and lightly stroked him while he melted back in the seat. Somehow I knew he would not last long while I stroked him and I knew he would have an orgasm like that if I wanted. But I looked at his hard dick and I knew what I wanted. He opened his eyes again as I removed my hand and shifted my position again, initially looking aghast as if I was stopping. I looked at his eyes the entire time I started to lower my head toward him. His distress was quickly replaced my realization I was going to give him a blow job. I began by licking the head while I cupped his balls in my hand. I looked back up at him while he closed his eyes again. I lowered my head again to slide the head past my lips, lower and lower. I loved the feel of him on my tongue as I dropped down farther. I had maybe two thirds of him in my mouth when I lifted up and looked at him. When he opened his eyes and looked at me, I said, "You have a really nice cock." I dropped down on him again. I loved the heat radiating from his cock, how it was so hard but the texture felt so silky soft on my lips and tongue. I was gentle and soft at times, but I would also take him more deeply and suck harder other times. I knew Steve was enjoying it. Other men had told me I was good at giving blow jobs, but I also knew it myself. I thought that feeling contributed to my own enjoyment. I almost thought those words would make him cum, but I dropped down again and started to suck him deeply. I had no doubt at all he would cum quickly and I was not at all surprised when he tensed up and I felt the first shot in my mouth. I stroked him harder as I continued to suck and taste his cum. He was quickly done and I began sucking him more gently. I had only swallowed a little bit of his cum so far, but now I lifted up a little to swallow the rest and then dropped back down for my pleasure; feeling him soften in my mouth while I gently sucked. After a little while, I lifted up and sat up straight. He looked over at me, "That was fantastic. I never expected that." I replied, "I know. If I thought you expected it, it would not have happened." He seemed to sense the meaning, "Wow, what a day." I smiled and nodded. We both started to get dressed again. We made a little small talk while we were doing that, but when it was time to leave, we really did not know much about each other and there was nothing really left to say. He did not try and ask if he could see me again and I was grateful for that. It was obvious to both of us this was a one time thing. We had never kissed the entire day, and only now as we parted did we give each other a light kiss. "Take care." "You too." And with the taste of his semen still on my tongue, my modeling experience for the day ended. I found it difficult to concentrate while I drove home as I was reliving what had just happened, touching myself many times during the drive. I got in the door and stripped off my clothes within seconds. Just as quickly I climbed in to bed and fingered myself to an intense orgasm while I thought about the store and the car. This has gone down as one of my most vivid experiences and I have thought about it many times fondly. It is not that I am going to suddenly start flashing people regularly as a result of my exhibitionist thrills. I knew in my heart these adventures were going to continue to be rare events, but that by being unique made the experiences all the more special to savor. And while there have been no difficulties from my 'close to home' event, I am still cautious to avoid home turf adventures in the future. Changing Room The bride and her pack of giggling bridesmaids and relatives were finally gone. Gone with their constantly changing demands and their charge cards and their smug wedding party attitudes. Ryne looked at the piles of dresses hanging on the hooks and draped over the chairs in the changing room and groaned. She'd be straightening out crumpled tulle and lace for the next two hours at this rate. The headache the bride had already givin her intensified. She picked up the white silken sheath dress from the back of the chair and stroked the fabric, letting the pleasure of touching it work its way from her fingertips up her arms. This was one of her own designs: all lean and classic lines, insanely flattering on the right woman. Not that the little twit was smart enough to see that when her fiancé pointed out more than once. It had been hard not to stare at him, harder still not to flirt. But she'd sworn that she'd never go for another engaged guy, not after Sam. Never again. It was just her bad luck that a guy who looked like he escaped from a romance novel cover and had at least half a brain would go for someone cute and dippy. Ryne sighed. She couldn't resist holding the dress up under her chin and looking at her reflection in the mirrors. Its length and cut flattered her more than it did the bride and she smiled a little at the thought. Someday when her designs started selling, she'd have dresses like this one to call her own. No more waiting hand and foot on the kind of woman who would go for a nightmarish meringue of lace and beads and glitter that practically stood up on its own. She shuddered every time she looked at that one. The sound of a throat being cleared behind her made her whirl around. The bride to be, a Miss Jasmine Smith, was standing behind her, one blonde brow raised in a questioning stare. "Well, somebody's got a lot of free time." She simpered, something like a smile twisting her full lips. Ryne bit back a sharp response. That damn security bell always stopped working when it would have been most useful. But then this was what she got for not making sure the door was locked after they had all left. "Is there something I can help you with, Miss Smith?" She grabbed a hanger and started to put the gown away but a gesture from the other woman made her stop. "I saw the way he looked at you. I'm not stupid, you know." The bride's blue eyes narrowed in a glare and her fair skin flushed as if she was going to scream or cry. "I don't know--" Ryne began. "Yes,you do. Any woman would notice him, why should you be any different? The thing is, he doesn't usually look back, not like that. No, just shut up for a minute. I need to know that he's faithful; otherwise, I'm always going to wonder where he is. I'm damned if I'll turn into my mother." A single tear leaked from her eye and ran down her cheek but the glare that she kept on Ryne showed no trace of weakness. In fact, her expression suggested something else, something Ryne couldn't read. What the hell was this about? Did the little moron think she was hot for her fiancé? Of course she was, unfortunately. "I wish you all the best, Miss Smith, but what does this have to do with me?" "I'm sending him back here to talk to you. He'll think he's alone with you but I'll be in there , watching." She gesture at one of the changing room curtains. "Don't worry I'll pay you two hundred dollars for your time. I just need to see what he does." Her glare turned a little desperate. "You do want the sales from my wedding, right? Do this for me and I'll send all my friends here. You could retire on what I'll do for you. Otherwise, well, you figure it out." She placed her hands on her hips and stared at Ryne. Ryne's lips parted to begin telling her off but she caught the words before they were uttered. Business had been really slow lately and Mrs. C had really good about letting her try to sell her designs. If the store went under, she'd just have to start all over again someplace else and that meant years of work. Besides, he wasn't going to do anything. A little flirtation and that would be the end of it. A pang went through her at the thought but she made herself ignore it. "Well, I'll talk to your fiancé, Miss Smith, but I'm sure nothing will happen." The other woman gave a brusque nod and pulled out a tiny, expensive cell phone. "Hi hon. Listen, I'm really busy at the florist and I was wondering if you could go back to the dress store and make sure that girl wrote down cream instead of white lace." There was a brief pause, just long enough to make Ryne regret the whole thing. The bride to be made it worse. "No, I don't think I should just call. You, of all people, know what retail help is like these days. Make her show you the order. Uh-huh. Love you too,sweetie." She blew an air kiss at the phone before she switched it off. "There. Now he's on his way. Just look cute and don't tell him I'm here." With that, she turned on her heels and vanished behind the curtains of one of the other rooms, leaving Ryne staring after her. She thought about throwing the other woman out but that wouldn't do anything except her pride any good. What was Smith's Problem anyway? The guy was marrying her, wasn't he? Still, Ryne was mad enough to flirt back now. Might as well show him what he'd be missing, marrying someone like that. Her eyes narrowed as studied the gown. "I'd love to see you model it." She spun around, her heart racing. The once and future groom, lone stud in a herd of fillies, was back. He lounged against the doorway, watching her from under half-closed lids. A small smile twisted his lips, making her blush a rosy pink as hurried to hang the dress up. She tried not to sigh and made sure she didn't meet his sharp blue eyes when she turned around. No point in giving his paranoid girlfriend something else to freak out about. "What can I do for you, Mr. Coleman? Did Miss Smith forget something?" "As a matter of fact, she did. She wanted to make sure that the lace on that delightful monstrosity that she insists on wearing is cream and not white." His voice was filled with a slightly mocking contempt. Ryne managed not to smirk. "Certainly. I'll add a note to the order. Is there anything else?" "Oh, I think there might be. She was wondering if that dress you were holding when I came in might suit the bridesmaids a bit better then what they picked. Would you mind trying it on for me? I know it's a nuisance but I'm certainly good for any extra charges you need to tack on." He sat down in the plush red chair in a way that suggested that he was staying put. His gaze wandered up her body, sending a hot flash through her like an electric shock. Uh-oh. No bad boy should be that handsome. It wasn't fair. She remembered her audience and tried to sound crisp and professional. "Do you really think that's a good idea, Mr. Coleman? Maybe it would be better to wait until your fiancée and her bridesmaids can come back to look at the gowns again. I'd hate it if Miss Smith wasn't happy with her choices." "Somehow I doubt that. Besides, my fiancée trusts my judgement implicitly. Relationships are built on trust like that, don't you agree? Particularly since my family is footing the bill for this fiasco. Old money talks, Ms. White. Now, I realize you still have a lot of work to do so perhaps we should get started." His voice lost the lazy seductive quality she'd detected when he came in and took on a commanding tone. Ryne bit her lip, grabbed the dress and walked into an empty changing room. She yanked the curtains closed behind her, which meant the jerk couldn't see her lips move while she swore at him. Who'd he think he was anyway? Who did either of them think they were, for that matter? "Old money talks!" Give a guy a department store chain and it went straight to his head. That wasn't all it went to. Against her better judgment, she imagined him going down on her, imagined the kind of hell he'd catch later if the bride to be watched him seduce the bridal-shop girl. Revenge might be sweet at that. She smiled at herself in the mirror. All right, he and his little bride wanted a show, they'd get a show. She unbuttoned her neat blue blouse and slipped out of her skirt, dropping the both over the back of the chair. She studied her reflection for a moment, considering. her bra would show at the shoulders and the back with the dress's halter neckline. After a moment's hesitation, she tugged it off. She gave her reflection a tight-lipped smile. Let him drool all he wanted. The dress clung to her like a second skin, the silky fabric caressing her bare breasts until her nipples showed hard under it. The skirt had a long slit in it that ran from the floor to her upper thigh and she stretched her leg out to see how it looked. It was definitely too tight. And too low cut. She'd be lucky if she didn't fall out while she was parading around in front of this clown. And his little girlfriend. To top it off, she had a visible line of elastic around her waist were her panty hose showed through the thin fabric. Great. She spun around to look at it a few more times. It did really ruin the line of the dress. Slowly she pulled the skirt up and tugged her panty hose and her underwear off. She plucked a few curls loose from the demure bun that restrained her long brown hair and gave herself one last once-over. It was pretty clear that she wasn't wearing a brand now that the first flush of annoyance was gone, she was a little more self-conscious. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The bride might repost her to Mrs. K., after all. His voice drifted through the curtains, interrupting her thoughts "Still awake in there, Ms. White?" Damn him! She yanked the curtains back and stalked out as forcefully as the dress's tight skirt would permit. "Is this what you had in mind, Mr. Coleman?" Deliberately, she twisted right, then left, while she watched his reaction. The smile was back along with the purr in his voice. "Turn all the way around if you please, Ms. White. Oh yes, this is exactly what I had in mind." He uncoiled from the chair and paced around her in a tight circle, first one way, then the next. The silence between them grew until she thought she'd scream. He took a step closer and her breath caught in her throat. Wasn't white what they dressed sacrificial virgins in? This was so wrong. The Smith woman was going to freak. She dropped her eyes to the carpet and wondered how to get out of this. "It doesn't really hang right on me, of course. If Miss Smith would like this dress for the bridesmaids, we'd have to do some new measurements." "Who's the designer? I don't see a name on the tag." He reached out and caught the sales tag that dangled from the back of the dress, his fingers just barely brushing her exposed skin. She trembled, a tiny gasp escaping her lips as a single drop of moisture worked its slop way down her thigh. Stop it she told herself sternly. It didn't matter what her body wanted; her brain knew better. She tried to remember that the other woman was watching, that this could cost her her job. She took in a deep breath and looked up. "It's by someone new. She's local, not very well known." He met her eyes and his smile got a bit more real. "I think she will be. I also think it hangs very well on you. Very well indeed. May I check to see what the fabric feels like?" He reached out at her mute nod and ran his fingers down part of the skirt. This time, she couldn't bite back her grasp. His touch was like pure electricity, burning its way through the dress and up her thighs. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to want him, willing away the aching space inside her that clamored for more of his touch, more of his body than was safe to even think about. Somehow, thinking about the fiancée behind the curtain made it worse. His fingers trailed down the skirt, rolling the fabric gently between his fingertips. She was wet now, her thighs slick with want. She fretted that he'd be able to see the skirt getting damp. Or smell her. She was nothing but longing and pheromones now, how could he miss it? He circled around behind her, still running his fingers over the skirt. The silken fabric rustled slightly, barely louder than the thumping of her heart. "Would you like to see another dress?" She forced the words out, breaking the spell, and made herself meet his eyes in the mirror. "I'm enjoying looking at this one quite a bit right now. Perhaps later." He tugged gently at the skirt and the slit fell open, exposing her leg up to her moist thigh. "Do stop me if I'm becoming too forward, Ms. White. I wouldn't want my attentions to be misinterpreted." He murmured the words, so close to her now that curls around her ear moved with his breath. For a single wild instant, she wondered if he knew he had an audience. There was something so staged, so practiced about his approach that it almost felt like he was doing it for someone else. Even so, she imagined him inside her, his solid length thrusting into her until it filled that persistent ache. She could almost feel his tongue on her clit, expertly coaxing her into orgasm after orgasm. Then she could picture him walking out the door, headed off to marry his little bride without a second thought. Just like Sam did to her. She met his eyes in the mirror again, steel in her voice. "Of course, Mr. Coleman. Perhaps you'd like to try on the tux and cummerbund that you picked out earlier to see how it sets off the dress in the bridal party?" She gave his reflection a tiger's smile. She would feel the fabric against his skin, run her fingers over the jacket's drape and watch him in the mirror until he hardened into an ache that no amount of jerking off would cure. His fingers caressed the edge of the gown where it met the small of her back. "Certainly, if you think that's a good idea." "Oh, I do, Mr. Coleman. I always think that you should be very sure before investing in wedding clothes." "I see your point, Ms. White. I like to be certain about these things too. " His fingertips barely touched her skin as they traced the line of the dress over the small of her back. She shifted so that the slit in the skirt fell open again and her leg was bared. His breath caught a little and her smile broadened. "You don't mind wearing the dress for a few more moments, do you?" His hand slid over her ass, touching her so lightly that it seemed almost accidental. "Not at all, Mr. Coleman. We want you to be happy with your purchases from Campbell's Bridal." She ran one fingertip around the gown's plunging neckline and watched his eyes follow it as she pulled it even lower. She thought about licking her lips, running her pink tongue extravagantly over her lipstick until he crumbled. But not yet. With a careless, bright smile she walked over to retrieve the tux from the rack where she'd hung it earlier. Once he was out of sight behind the curtains, she hesitated a moment. If she gave in to her desires, it would mean nothing but trouble. Her thighs rubbed together and she couldn't help slipping her hand up between them. Her clit burned as she caressed it, this time imagining Jasmine Smith watching her fuck her fiancé. Imagining the little plump brunette rubbing herself off in a twisted mix of lust and fury. Maybe she was even getting off watching Ryne now. She bit back a moan at the picture in her mind. Then the curtains parted behind her and he walked in. She jerked her hand away, but not quite fast enough. He raised one eyebrow and his lips twisted. "Would you mind staying in here while I change? I suspect I'll need some help with the tie." His smile was feral, the wolf looking at Little Red. His fingers were already at his collar, shedding his tie, his jacket. Ryne chewed her lip and made herself pace casually over to the chair and sit down. She crossed her legs so the skirt fell away on either side of her bare thigh. He followed her, shirt unbuttoned to expose broad muscles. He leaned over her and trailed one hand up her thigh. "It's your design, isn't it?" She nodded, not trusting her voice, and found that she was running her hands over his chest. He grabbed her hand and kissed it hard, thin lips burning on her skin until she almost forgot about their audience. Then she was on her feet and in his arms, kissing him with a passion she hardly recognized. His thigh parted hers through the skirt's slit and he rocked against him, need conquering sense as her body snag to his touch. His lips were on her neck, his teeth nibbling her collarbone as she sent one hand under the skirt between her thighs. She moaned as his fingers found their way inside her. He laughed then, a deep quiet chuckle that made her stiffen a little even as her knees melted. Sam thought his seductions were one big joke too. But then his fiancée had never came along to watch. She pulled up his face and kissed him, savoring his taste: mint with a slight tang of good scotch. Now it was time for her lips to explore his neck and chest. To plant a tiny lipstick kiss on the white fabric of his shirt where the collar would cover it. It was a little thing, one that only another woman would notice when she kissed him. She smiled a little and let him spin her in his arms so the faced the mirrors together. He wrapped one arm around her, his hand finding her breast under the gown's silk and kneading it like dough. His other hand was between her thighs, his fingers on her clit as if he had always known exactly how to touch her. Her hair fell down around her shoulders, pins flying as she put her hands behind her to stroke him, to feel his hardened flesh beneath the soft fabric of his pants. Was that a gasp she heard from behind the curtain? It definitely moved, shifting as though someone behind it was trying to find a more comfortable position. For the briefest of moments, she could see a bare leg, as if the Smith had raised her own skirts. He pinched her nipple unbearably hard at the same moment that his fingers bore down on her clit. There, now she was sure she heard the fiancée moan. The wantonness, the very wrongness of it excited her even more and she stiffened against him, her orgasm shaking her until she thought her knees would buckle under her. He lowered her to the floor then, eager hands pulling the dress up and fumbling at his belt. She sat up, her lips on his skin as she unbuckle his belt and unzipped his fly. He was hard and eager in her hands and she lowered her mouth to run her tongue against him, laughing softly when he groaned. There was a soft crackle as he pulled a condom from his pocket and she forced herself not to grimace. Of course, he'd be prepared. You never know when a woman might giver herself to you, wet, hot and eager. But the ache inside her didn't care about her pride. She pulled the package from his fingers and opened it with her teeth. He gasped for breath as she rolled the condom over his penis, stiffening more as she touched him, his hands ruthlessly crushing the fabric of the gown up around her thighs. The carpet was rough against her bare skin as he drove himself inside her and she wrapped her arms around his neck and welcomed his tongue in her mouth, spreading her thighs to take him in. He twisted so that his fingers found her clit as he thrust against her, sending little shocks through her. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and tried to pull him further inside her, arching her back a little. He dropped onto her then, his hands on her shoulders gripping hard enough to bruise. She thrust back against him, moaning a little. He was muttering things in her ear, something about how hot she was, when she stopped his mouth with her own. She imagined what it was like between him and Jasmine when they were doing this. Did he want her the same way? Did he take her the moment that she craved him? Was anyone else watching when they did it? Her thighs and the carpet beneath them were soaked at the thought. For a moment, she even thought about calling out to Jasmine, picturing those rounded lips on her nipple while the other woman's fiancée thrust his way into her. She came then, bucking under him in wild desire. Changing Room His mouth was savage against her lips, her neck, her shoulders. The dress would never be the same, she thought distantly as his hands crushed the fabric beyond repair. She groaned at the pain of the realization and the pleasure of him inside her rolled into one. He came then as though her small sound had given him permission. He even gave a small shout, just loud enough to mask the sound of the bell by the door, as Ryne realized a moment later. "Jay? Are you still here? Anybody around? Jasmine must've gone over to open the door. This should be interesting. "Shit!" Coleman pulled out of Ryne, swearing softly. His erection plummeted as he yanked off the condom and zipped his pants up. "Can you get out into the other changing room?" he whispered to Ryne, eyes wide and somewhat panicked as he leaned down to help her up. It was quite the act. It might even be real. Ryne gave him a considering look and trailed her fingers over his crotch, smiling when he stiffened a little under the pressure. "Sure thing, lover. But what's in it for me?" It would be only moments before his bride began checking the changing rooms; she could see he knew it too. "Shit! What do you want? Money?" He pulled his wallet from his pants and she reached out to hold his hand in place. "I'm not a hooker so don't bother giving me a twenty or two. Your family owns Coleman's department stores, doesn't it?" Light dawned swiftly. "You want the stores to carry your designs? I can't guarantee it but I can get you an interview with the top buyers, with my recommendation. Please..." His eyes were desperate now, darting to the curtains until she almost laughed. "Good enough, Mr. Coleman. I look forward to hearing from you so that nobody else hears about this. Understand?" She paced out between the curtains into the next room, casting one backward glance to make sure he watched the graceful swing of her ass walking away. She smiled at her reflection as she heard his fiancée open the changing room curtains behind her. "There you are! What are you doing here, Jay? Where's that girl who's supposed to be waiting on us? I called and called." Jay mumbled something inaudible and Ryne grinned to herself as she shed the gown and pulled on her regular clothes with an easy grace. Clearly Jay's betrothed was going to pretend nothing had happened. She decided she'd play along a bit further and yanked all the remaining pins from her hair so that it tumbled to her shoulders. Then she bit her lower lip to make it blush pink. She gave herself a critical look make sure she appeared tousled enough and slipped through the curtains toward the back room. A few seconds later, she emerged carrying a box with a new tux in it. "Oh, Miss Smith! I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in. Is there anything I can help you with?" The other woman's eyes narrowed but Ryne couldn't help noticing that she looked pretty tousled herself. "Shouldn't somebody be watching the counter in this place? I wouldn't want my dress getting stolen." Her gaze darted from her fiancé to Ryne, almost making the latter smile. Jay looked nervous, one finger tugging at his damp collar as he disappeared to go change. "You going to tell him?" Ryne smiled cynically. "There's nothing for me to tell him. Or you either." Jasmine Smith pulled a debit card from her purse and held it out. "Two hundred dollars. Take it off this. And give me some of your business cards." Their fingers touched as Ryne reached automatically for the card. A shock went up her arm. "You knew what he'd do, didn't you? So what happens now?" Jasmine's lips thinned into an almost smile. "We'll be back, of course. I think I do like that gown you were showing us earlier better than the ones we picked for the bridesmaids. I guess we'll just have to do more fittings for the whole party. And it'll be our little secret. Guilty sex is always the best, don't you think?" Jay walked in and gave them both a slightly nervous stare. A few moments later the happy couple were on their way out. He didn't risk a backward glance but she did, and Ryne composed her face into an expression of polite interest. She wondered how long it would take before he figured it out, and what his little bride would get out of him before he realized he was being played. Relationships were built on trust, indeed. Her lips curled in a wry smile as she locked the door behind them. Changing Room "The red one," Claire said. Lisa made a face. "You know, natural redheads really shouldn't wear red blouses. At least not in that shade. Why don't we try something a bit more natural Autumn?" Claire nodded, her arms full of clothes anyways. "Let's just go to the change rooms and try some of these on. The party is only in a few hours and we are running out of time," said Claire. Claire's long, flowing red hair trailed behind her, a natural scarf billowing out from her beautiful head. She raised one of her dainty fingers to her eyelid, wiping something away. Lisa watched her, transfixed by the beauty of her tall, skinny, fair-skinned friend. Lisa, herself, was nothing short of gorgeous, but didn't have the long legs and wonderfully carved arms of Claire. She was shorter, a good head below Claire, with wide hips and larger, heavy breasts. She kept her hair short, choppy, and stylish, and wore dangling hoop earrings that were shown off easy because of her hairstyle. "Ma'am?" Claire's singsong voice was slightly muffled behind her piles of clothes. An older, nondescript lady was bustling past them. "Where are the changing rooms," Lisa called out in a more alert tone. The lady pointed quickly down the halls away from the Womens Clothing section, and Lisa grunted in appreciation. "Let's go," Lisa said, tugging Claire by the arm sleeve. The changing room was entirely empty during the time of day, and so Lisa pushed open the closest expansive stall door and pulled Claire inside. Claire plopped down on one of the comfy benches therein, and her pile of clothes fell off of her in explosively colorful waves. Lisa kissed Claire roughly and passionately, pushing her small pink tongue into her friend's fumbling mouth. Claire's candy-apple balmed lips parted easily once she realized what was going on. "Here?" Claire asked. Lisa nodded ruefully, already unbuttoning Claire's skinny jeans. Claire sighed and laughed, relishing the fact that Lisa was so often boyish in her conquests. "Careful now hunny, I'm a bit more fragile than you are," Claire giggled. Lisa grunted, pulling the pants away from Claire's hips and off her flat butt. "Oh shut up. I saw the way you were looking at me out there. You haven't been thinking about clothes for forty-five minutes," Lisa answered her. Claire put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Lisa was really determined now. The pants were off. Lisa stared at Claire's unassuming green and white striped panties. There was an almost imperceptible heady musk coming off of her crotch. Lisa could feel the heat there, or at least could do a great job imagining it. Lisa pulled the panties off slowly, relishing in the site of a dewy string of fluid coming off with the sparse cloth, attached between the panties and Claire's fiery red bush. "Wet already. Whore," Lisa smirked. Claire pouted. "You did say you noticed my mood," She said. "I'm so fucking glad you don't shave. God you look like a woman." "I am a woman," Claire growled. Then she laughed, her tiny breasts rising and falling. Lisa's breasts rested on the knees of her friend, until she parted Claire's legs after taking the panties all the way off. Lisa inhaled the smell entirely, basking in it, then she naughtily sniffed the panties and licked the dew off of them. "You are so naughty," Claire said. "Tell me about it. I feel like I haven't had a meal in weeks." "You at my pussy this morning you silly girl." "This morning. Jesus Christ that was like six hours ago and coffee washed the pussy off my tongue only a few minutes after." Lisa pushed her tongue into the base of Claire's closed pussy, slowly trailing all the way to the top and above her clit, planting a kiss in the middle of her red pubic hair. Claire's pussy opened compliantly, her puffy lips blooming apart. Lisa pushed one finger deep into Claire's pussy, finding it to be exceptionally wet, then noisily pulled her long finger out and placed it into Claire's mouth, who sucked on it eagerly. "You are dirty right now," Claire said, tasting herself. Lisa gave Claire's cunt another long and languished lick, and Claire made a noise like an animal. "Cover your mouth or I'm going to pull you over my knee and spank your pussy until my hand is drenched." "I love it when you are rough. I could use a reddened pussy right now." "It's already red." Lisa licked and licked, changing her pace and sloppily spelling out the first half of the alphabet with her tongue. Claire cooed and moved her legs, loving everything she was receiving. Lisa's pink tongue moved further and deeper inside, between the lusciously puffy lips, pulling out little gobs of Claire's pussy juice. Sometimes, during the early afternoon when Claire was especially horny, her womanly liquid would get thick and creamy, and especially heady. "Delicious today aren't we," Lisa asked. "Oh god don't stop," Claire begged, placing one of her hands on the back of Lisa's head. Claire loved her friend's hair, it made it so easy for her to control what was happening during cunnilingus. Lisa especially loved to give it, relishing the taste of good ripe pussy on her tongue. She used to have to beg Claire to let her go down on her, but now it was their primary source of lovemaking. Claire was a bit more awkward when she was in control, but Lisa was a good teacher. Lisa licked some more, pushing her tongue in and out of Claire's pussy, fucking it slowly and determinedly with her tongue. She alternated with her middle finger, driving it in and out of Claire's tight cunt. Lisa moved her tongue up, lightly pressing it against Claire's clit, which elicited an excited series of muffled gasps from her friend. Lisa licked and licked, putting on the pressure and speeding up her determined licks. Lisa moved her finger in and out, in and out, eventually adding another finger and opening up Claire's pussy more. Her fluid was dripping easily out of her open cunt, and Lisa's tongue moved back down to the base of her opening and lapped it up. Claire began to tense up, her legs tightening around Lisa's head. Lisa knew that Claire wasn't going to last much longer, so she returned to Claire's budding clit and moved her tongue with fevered abandon. Claire pushed down on Lisa's head, calling out loudly and forgetting to muffle the sound. Lisa laughed into Claire's lippy pussy, licking harder and harder. Claire began to cum, and so she tried to push Lisa's head away from her clit, which was becoming increasingly tender. Lisa knew that this would happen, so she grabbed onto both of Lisa's wrists and continued to lick her pussy. Claire was really screaming now as her clitoris was under fierce attack. Lisa wouldn't let up until Claire performed the magic three, which Lisa found out that she could do. Claire was both dismayed and on fire with lust at the knowledge, knowing that her friend wouldn't get off her clit until she had performed her trinity of orgasms. Claire shook again, the second orgasm wracking her body and causing her legs to shake uncontrollably. "Please!" Claire cried out, but Lisa held her wrists in a death grip and licked even harder and faster at her engorged bud. Claire thrashed her head from side to side, loving the feeling but afraid that any more sensitivity down there would cause her to explode. Lisa licked harder, waiting for the explosion. Claire felt the third orgasm bubbling up inside of her, a fierce stream, and a sudden eruption moved her and she really screamed loud. Lisa clamped her mouth down on Claire's pussy as a thing stream of fluid shot forward and down her throat. Lisa slurped loudly and rudely, keeping her entire mouth pressed down over Claire's mound until she stopped moving. A knock sounded at the changing room door. "We're okay in here, just leave us alone!" Claire called out. Lisa pulled her face away from the mess she had made, trailing long strings of saliva and pussy juice. "You are an animal," Claire said, laughing. Lisa giggled, and Claire licked at her friend's face, tasting herself and giving Lisa a grand kiss. "Come on, the party is in a few hours and I haven't tried on any of these clothes," Claire said. Lisa shook her head. "We can try on the clothes, but we aren't going to any stupid party tonight," Lisa said. Claire laughed, hugging Lisa tightly.