Three Women and a Strapless Dress

Mariana hung up the phone and stood there for a second staring at the screen, as if she needed to make sure the call had been real. Then she let out a strangled cry and ran downstairs two steps at a time.

—You won’t believe who just invited me to the graduation gala —she said as she walked into the kitchen.

Her mother, Carla, looked up from the counter with a patient smile.

—Let me guess. Tomás?

—How did you know? —Mariana sank into a chair, her cheeks still burning—. He’s going to rent a car with two other people, we’re going to arrive like queens. There’s only one problem.

—You have nothing to wear —Carla finished, drying her hands on a dish towel.

—Nothing that’s up to the task.

Carla watched her for a moment. Her daughter was no longer the skinny little kid she had been a few years ago; now she was a woman in her twenties, tall, with dark hair swept up without effort and a way of moving that drew attention without trying.

—Tomorrow we’ll go see Renata —she said at last—. She has a small boutique, but I know her work. She’s an old friend and she’ll give us a good price.

Mariana gave her a quick hug and ran back upstairs to tell her friends. Carla stayed downstairs, folding the towel with a slowness that didn’t match the task.

***

The boutique was at the end of a narrow street, its display window packed with fabrics that seemed to be fighting for space. Inside, it smelled of new cloth and a sweet perfume Mariana couldn’t identify. A little bell announced the two women’s arrival and, for an instant, everything fell silent except for the rustle of hangers.

—Carla! —Renata came out from behind a clothing rack with open arms—. It’s been ages.

—Too long. Do you remember Mariana?

Renata turned to the young woman and swept her from head to toe with a look that took just a fraction too long to return upward.

—The last time, she was a little girl. And look at you now. —She held out her hand—. You need a dress, I imagine.

—Something strapless —Mariana said—. Something that shows the shoulders.

—I have exactly what you’re looking for. —Renata disappeared into the maze of hangers and came back with a black-and-white dress that took your breath away just seeing it hanging there—. This one. Try it on.

Mariana looked around for a fitting room.

—No need —Renata said, answering the question before it was asked—. I’m going to lock the front door and you can change right here. No one comes in at this hour.

The young woman looked at her mother, uncertain. Carla only nodded.

—Come on, don’t be shy. I’ve seen you in diapers.

***

Mariana stripped down to her underwear, cheeks burning, and began to slide the dress up over her legs. Renata came back just then, with the bolt already thrown, and clicked her tongue.

—Wait, wait. With that bra you’ll never know how it fits. —She stepped closer—. It’s strapless, darling. The bra seams will ruin it. Take it off.

Mariana opened her mouth to protest, but her mother beat her to it.

—She’s right. You should know these things. Hurry up.

With a shrug and her face scarlet, the young woman unfastened her bra and let it fall. Her breasts were left bare under the two women’s gazes.

—Wow —Renata murmured, not bothering to hide it—. Your daughter has a gorgeous body, Carla. And those nipples… pink, firm.

—It’s a family thing —Carla replied with a calm that felt strange to Mariana—. All the women in my family have them like that.

—May I ask you something personal? —Renata said, and without waiting for an answer she set a hand on the young woman’s breast, as if checking the way the fabric would fall when it was not yet on.

Mariana went rigid. This cannot be happening, and especially not in front of my mother.

—I-I suppose —she stammered.

—The guy who takes you to the gala is going to want to run his hands under that dress at some point during the night. Over your breasts, over your legs. Don’t you think you should be wearing the best lingerie possible? —Her thumb traced a slow circle—. So he can enjoy every inch.

—I-I hadn’t thought about it —Mariana admitted, writhing slowly under the caress.

—I agree with Renata —Carla said, and her voice sounded rougher than usual—. Tomás isn’t going to be satisfied just looking.

***

Renata let go of the young woman’s breast and, without warning, slid two fingers into the elastic of her panties and pulled them down to her ankles. Mariana jolted when the shop’s air brushed her bare skin.

—I don’t want to be harsh —Renata said, addressing Carla but keeping her eyes on the young woman—, but look at this. With the tiny lingerie we’re going to put on her, this can’t stay like this. It should be left with hardly even a shadow.

—You’re right again —Carla replied, slowly shaking her head—. When do we do it?

—Right now. I have everything in the back room. I wax myself, so I know what I’m doing.

She led the two women to the back, unfolded a chair in the middle of the room, and told Mariana to sit down. The young woman obeyed, knees together, her knuckles white on her thighs.

—First we have to soften the skin with warm water —Renata said, kneeling between her legs—. Relax. It’ll just be water and soap to start.

Mariana squeezed her eyes shut. Renata leaned in and, in a whisper only she could hear, said:

—You’re wet. Are you turned on?

—Wouldn’t you be —the young woman replied in a thread of a voice— if someone had been touching your breasts in front of your mother?

—Mariana, not that tone —Carla cut in from the doorway, but there was something in her gaze, fixed on her daughter’s lap, that belied the reprimand.

—S-sorry —Mariana murmured.

—It’s fine. —Renata stroked the inside of her thigh—. But I think your body is asking for something more urgent than a waxing. Or am I wrong?

The young woman opened her eyes. The tension she had been building ever since the dress had gathered between her legs, throbbing, impossible to ignore.

—I… I can’t stand it —she finally confessed—. Please.

—Please what? Say it.

—Help me.

Renata looked over her shoulder at Carla, seeking permission. The mother nodded without saying a word, her lips parted.

***

Renata lowered her head and placed her mouth directly over the young woman’s swollen clit. Mariana arched in the chair and let out a moan that bounced off the tiles.

—Like that —she gasped, pushing her hips forward—. Just like that.

Renata’s tongue moved with a skill that betrayed years of practice, tracing slow circles before sinking in and rising again. Mariana tangled her fingers in the older woman’s hair and held her there, all shame already lost. Every caress pulled a fresh shiver from her legs, and the cold of the tiles beneath her bare feet contrasted with the heat rising through her belly.

By the door, Carla hadn’t stayed still. Without taking her eyes off the scene, she had slipped a hand inside her jeans and was stroking herself with increasingly erratic movements.

—Don’t stop —she ordered her friend, her breathing ragged—. Eat her out completely.

Mariana felt something break inside her. The orgasm hit her full force, shook her from head to toe, and left her trembling, clutching the back of the chair while Renata held her by the hips. A few feet away, her mother stifled her own moan against the back of her hand and bent in on herself, carried away by her own climax.

For a long while, the only sound in the back room was three breaths trying to settle.

***

Renata was the first to stand, her legs still unsteady.

—I’m not going to pretend I’m a saint —she said, lowering her pants—. I need it too.

She sat on the edge of the chair and spread her legs. Mariana, only barely recovered, knelt in front of her without being asked. She glanced at her mother for a second, and Carla nodded again, then Mariana lowered her head and gave Renata exactly what she had just received. She did it with clumsy but fierce devotion, and within minutes the boutique owner was clutching her shoulders, biting her lip to keep from shouting.

When Renata finally recovered, she at last reached for the razors and, with unexpected tenderness, finished the waxing that had been the excuse for everything else.

—You know what I like about this store, Mom? —Mariana said, still breathless, while Renata ran the blade carefully—.

—What, darling?

—That it’s full service.

Carla let out a low laugh and came over to stroke her daughter’s hair.

—And this —Renata added, looking up with a smile— doesn’t have to stop at just one visit. You can come whenever you want.

—Whenever you want —Carla repeated, looking at her daughter in a way she had never looked at her before—. At home or here. There’s no need to hide anything between us anymore.

Mariana stood up, looked at herself in the mirror still without the dress on, and for the first time all afternoon felt no shame at all. She only thought that, suddenly, the gala mattered much less than the way back home.