Another Saturday shopping, which means another day sitting in a chair, holding her big-ass purse and wondering how much of your money was going to go walking out of that dressing room. For the zillionth time, you wonder if having such a high-maintenance girlfriend is worth it. Sure, she looks great in all the clothes you buy, and your friends are all jealous; and she looks even better out of them, stripping them off slowly, as she comes to bed.....and, OH!, the things she does there...........
Um, what were you thinking about?
You sense someone flop into the chair next to you; another poor schmuck relegated to Sherpa duty. Hoping to find a kindred spirit, or at least the basketball score, you turn--and find yourself staring into the most beautiful pair of eyes you have ever seen.
The girl next to you is one of the most breathtaking creatures you have ever seen; a slim and petite body, wearing a white tank top that barely contains her obviously bra-less breasts over form fitting jeans that hug every curve of her shapely ass and thighs. She smiles broadly.
"Purse duty, hunh?" she asks, nodding towards the bag. "Me, too," she says patting the bag in her lap. "I don't get it, I can fuck her in the car on the way over here, but I can't watch her try on clothes?"
The unexpected frankness of her question leaves you stunned. You can just barely manage a nod when she sticks out her hand, "Name's Meredith. Whatsa matter? Never met an honest-to-God lesbian before?"
You take her hand carefully. "Um, no, I don't think so. But nowadays, you never know, right?"
She shakes your hand, giggling. "Nope. We're everywhere!" she growls. "So, yours gonna be in there long?"
You look back cautiously at the dressing room, knowing what would happen if she walked out now. High–maintenance AND jealous was not a great combination, and your girlfriend had them both in spades. "I think so; she took an awful lot of things in there. She usually takes her time."
"Her, too," she says, gesturing towards the other closed curtain. "She says it's all for me, but I think that's bullshit. She just likes playing dress-up every now and then."
"Yeah," you laugh, "Grown up Barbies, and ten times as expensive."
"Well, at least ours are anatomically correct--when ya buy them stuff, they know how to show their gratitude. Knowhatimean?" she nudges you with her elbow.
Obviously, your face somehow gives away just how long it has been since your girlfriend last "showed gratitude" because her smile fades quickly.
"No? Damn, man, that's cold!" She leans back in her chair. "That ain't right--somebody should do something about that."
"W-What do you mean," you stammer, as mental images flood uncontrolled into your head. You feel a stirring in your jeans, and subtly shift the purse in your lap to cover it.
"Damn, that long, hunh?" She sets her girlfriends purse on the floor beneath her chair, allowing her to turn her head and look into your crotch. The attention causes your cock to swell against the front of your pants. "Wow!" she whispers under her breath.
She leans back in her chair again and is quiet for a couple of minutes. You stare ahead at the dressing room curtains, trying to will the blood away from your crotch before your girlfriend comes out. You feel the swelling begin to subside when you feel something else in your lap. You look down and see Meredith's thin fingers sliding across the front of your pants, reaching under the purse, and running along the outline of your penis. Your member jumps and throbs under the attention.
