Two Women and a Forbidden Afternoon in the Fitting Rooms

I went out to buy clothes on a Tuesday morning, unhurried, taking advantage of the fact that I had the day off. It wasn’t sale season, so the stores were practically empty. It was sticky hot, and nobody was wearing more fabric than necessary. In the third shop I stepped into, the styles hanging on the racks were downright scandalous.

I don’t usually dress provocatively. But that morning I felt like trying on things I’d never wear out on the street. I kept picking out the boldest pieces I could find — backless tops, impossible little skirts — and was heading toward the fitting rooms when a saleswoman stopped me with a smile.

“Hi. I see what you’re choosing. I’ve got some miniskirts over here that you’re going to love,” she said.

I would never have called those things skirts. If I were being generous, I’d describe them as wide belts. But I was curious to see how they looked on me.

“You’re right. They’re gorgeous.”

She was a pretty, friendly girl, with long blonde hair, a voluptuous body, and curves she didn’t try to hide. She was wearing a skintight black Lycra jumpsuit and, apart from her sandals and a wide belt slung over her hips, you couldn’t tell she had anything else on underneath. Her hard nipples stood out through the fabric, competing with mine beneath my thin cotton T-shirt.

“Everything will look amazing on you. You’ve got a fantastic body,” she added, looking me over without the slightest attempt to hide it.

In the fitting rooms, she stayed with me, chatting about nonsense from a spot where she could keep an eye on the door and my booth. After all, we were the only two people in the whole store.

I didn’t pull the curtain shut to undress. I took off my T-shirt to try on a backless silk top. Since I wasn’t wearing a bra, I only had to slip it on over my head. All under her attentive gaze, which, far from bothering me, was turning me on. My nipples went rock hard.

“How does it fit?” I asked.

“Spectacular,” she said. “Your tits look gorgeous in that, and the bare back is a dream.”

“Now the little bottoms.”

Without another word, I let the skirt drop to the floor, leaving me in a thong that barely covered anything. It excited me to feel myself being watched there, almost naked in the middle of the aisle. I slipped into a pair of shorts so low-waisted they left the lower half of my ass and my entire stomach exposed.

“Unbelievable,” she murmured.

Turning in front of the huge mirror, I saw that I looked sexy, with my long thighs coming out of that tiny thing and the top so sheer it traced the exact shape of my breasts. I felt attractive, shameless. I’ll be honest with myself: I felt like a real slut, and I liked it.

She came closer and tugged at the two ties that cinched the back of the top, brushing my skin with her fingertips. That soft touch made my whole body prickle.

“I liked what you were wearing. I picked out something similar,” I told her, nodding toward her jumpsuit.

“You wear this with nothing underneath,” she replied, reaching for another hanger. “Try it on. No thong, nothing.”

“Nothing at all? That’s how you’re wearing it? But I could stain it.”

“I’m not wearing anything underneath, exactly. And I’m sure you’ll end up buying it once you see how it looks on you.”

***

I took everything off, including the thong, right there, in the middle of the aisle and in front of her eyes. The jumpsuit was Lycra, as tight as hers. I pulled it up slowly, swaying my hips, and she kept staring at my shaved cunt with a smile that was no longer professional in the least.

“Fits like a glove,” she said softly.

Once I got the garment past my hips and got my arms through, I discovered it left a brutal cleavage in front and back. Turning toward the mirror, I confirmed that wearing it was practically like being naked, like a thin coat of paint over the skin.

“I’m getting wet. Better not stain it,” I admitted.

“Relax, you’re definitely keeping it. It looks obscene on you.”

I took it off to try on one last thing: a pleated skirt so short that if I bent over a little, everything showed, and a white gauze blouse that was completely transparent and, instead of buttoning it, I tied in a knot just under my breasts. With my hair straight and nothing underneath, I looked like a schoolgirl fresh out of an indecent dream.

“This looks more like a costume than clothes,” I said, laughing.

“Clearly it’s not meant to be worn out on the street. But you’re beautiful,” she replied.

At last, she made up her mind. Her name was Noa, she told me just before she put her hands on my bare waist. She came close enough that our breasts were flattened against each other, and our lips fused in the most passionate kiss I’ve ever been given in my life.

One of her bold hands slid up my thigh, lifted the skirt, and claimed my ass cheek, squeezing it firmly. Mine went straight to her huge, slightly sagging but beautiful breasts, cupping them in my palm and playing with her nipples between my fingers.

“What a kiss. You’ve turned me inside out,” she gasped.

My tongue seemed glued to hers. One of her fingers was already insinuating itself between my thighs, searching for the wet lips of my sex. It was harder for me to touch her skin, trapped under the Lycra, but I didn’t stop running my hands over her whole body through the fabric.

“Lock the door and we’ll be more relaxed,” I managed to say, with the little reason I had left.

She pushed her chest back into the jumpsuit, closed the fitting room door, hung up a sign, and came running back. I watched her approach, her tits bouncing. Smiling at her shamelessly, I let the miniskirt fall onto the carpet.

***

She had already gotten rid of the belt along the way and was coming back while pulling the jumpsuit down, finally revealing her glorious breasts in full. It took more work to get it off those wide hips, but in the end she was naked for me alone.

“You’re beautiful,” I told her.

“So are you, baby.”

When she reached my side, she helped me take off the blouse so we could both be the same, with not a single scrap of clothing on us. She kissed me again, driving her tongue deep into my mouth while my hands roamed over her skin unhindered. Pulling me with her, she dragged me onto the carpet, where I ended up on top of her.

I started kissing her all over: the slender neck, the brown shoulders, the tanned breasts — she’d been sunbathing topless, that much was obvious — the soft curve of her belly. I went slowly down to her wet sex, which I opened with my tongue while she kept her thighs wide apart.

“Eat me up, sweetheart,” she whispered.

I ran over her folds without using my fingers, going in slowly until I found her clit. She arched her back, lifted her hips, and offered herself even more. I took her by the thighs, lifted her, and kept licking upward, searching between her ass cheeks. That was when she went crazy, gasping and moaning, urging me not to stop.

“I’m melting. You drive me insane,” she kept saying.

She had surprising flexibility for her build, and a big clit, the biggest I had ever tasted. She seemed to be having one continuous orgasm, and she certainly wasn’t the kind to hide it. Thank God we were at the back of the store, though even now I still wonder whether anyone heard her moaning from the street.

“Now come here, on my face,” she suddenly asked.

I set her down gently on the carpet and placed my thighs on either side of her head, lowering myself slowly. I could look into her blue eyes between my own tits as I came down. Almost immediately, her tongue took over my sex, prying my lips apart with her fingers and reaching a depth that made me shake.

I couldn’t hold back the moans. I kneaded my breasts, pinched my nipples, and came in her mouth. When I sat up and kissed her, I found my own taste on her lips.

“I’m hungry,” she said, laughing. “And I don’t just mean your little ass.”

***

We both wanted more, but it was lunch time and we were starving. With her wicked smile, Noa suggested a bit of mischief: going out to eat something in those clothes, at a nearby place, and watching the strangers in the street drool over us.

We were anything but discreet. Her in her Lycra jumpsuit, me in the miniskirt and sheer blouse, we drew every eye. Even more so when we held hands, kissed, or stroked each other tenderly right there on the terrace.

“Give me a little kiss,” she asked.

“You’re such a horny thing. We’re going to get into trouble,” I warned her, unable to stop laughing.

We couldn’t help it. Sitting at the table, I felt her playful hand climb my thigh until she was stroking me over my wet thong. I was dripping. I got my revenge by discreetly pinching her nipples until they threatened to break through the thin fabric of the jumpsuit.

I even spotted a young girl, seated with her family, glancing at us sideways and rubbing her thighs together under a very short skirt. She seemed to want us. Too bad we couldn’t invite her to the party, although the exchange of looks became pretty brazen.

Hot as ovens, we went back to the store. All the way to the back, unable to keep our hands off each other’s bodies or our lips off the mouth that gave every kiss back to us.

“I’m giving you five seconds to lock the door,” I told her.

I think she was back in less than that. I felt her hands under my skirt, stroking my bare thighs, while I yanked her jumpsuit off again and exposed those splendid breasts. I stroked her nipples with two fingers and heard her sigh against my neck.

Before I knew it, the microscopic skirt was on the floor and the thong was burning against my skin. She played with the elastic, making me more and more nervous, until she shoved me down onto the carpet. She grabbed one of my feet and started sucking my toes while, as I fell, I dragged her jumpsuit with me and finally left her completely naked.

“Eat me up, sweetheart,” she repeated, and knelt beside me, offering her breasts to my mouth.

I licked them, bit them, devoured her huge nipples while one of my hands sought out her shaved sex. She spread her knees, and my fingers found her wetness. At the same time, hers played expertly between my thighs, with my clit and inside me, until she had two full fingers moving in and out of me, drawing sighs from me.

I slipped one leg between hers and she understood the invitation, pressing her sex very close to mine. Our vulvas came together almost violently, both soft and soaked, mixing our wetness. One of my hands held me up on the floor while the other kneaded her tits; she copied the gesture and pinched my nipples.

“I’m dying to lick you again,” she gasped.

I was the one who stood up and knelt over her face, facing her feet. I lowered my hips slowly, stretching out the moment. The touch of her tongue on my lips was electric, a current that ran up my back to the nape of my neck. She put both hands on my ass, working my hips to reach every corner. When she drove her tongue into the place I least expected it, the orgasm was almost immediate.

I let myself fall onto her, feeling her breasts against my belly, and opened her thighs to return the favor. Her scent filled my nostrils an instant before I tasted her with my tongue.

“You’re so wet, baby,” I told her.

I worked over her sex to the very depths, slipping her clit between my lips and salivating over it without touching it with my fingers. I started tasting the flavor of her orgasms in my mouth, one after another.

“Fuck, the way you come,” I murmured against her skin.

I lost count of hers and mine, and devoted myself only to enjoying them. When I thought we were going to take a break, her tongue found another sensitive spot and made me explode all over again. I had to surrender, seek out her mouth with mine, and share the taste of us both as our tongues tangled.

Needless to say, I kept all the clothes. And I made that store my favorite for future shopping. Although, apart from the occasional grope and some quick caresses between the racks, we never did it again in the fitting room aisle, but in the comfort of our own beds.

Ah, yes. The young girl from the restaurant usually shops for clothes at that store too.