This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere. It contains heterosexual sexual activity.
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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.
This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.
This is part of an ongoing series. Please check out earlier part(s) for background and character history.
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"Okay boys. This is all you're getting so you've got to make it . . ." Gail was saying until Todd grabbed the money out of her hand before he and Buddy tore off down the mall to the video arcade. "Boys will be boys," she said, checking out her boyfriend's butt before it vanished into blinking-light-and-pinging-noise hell. She turned and saw that Pat had scooted in the direction the boys had taken off to.
"I really should keep an eye on Buddy," she said.
"Todd is quite capable of looking after your brother, and Buddy's no fool anyway. If there's a problem, they can call us but there WON'T BE A PROBLEM! You're not getting out of this," she added, tapping her foot and crossing her arms. "You were the one who called me, remember?"
"Yeah," Pat said, then grumbled, "but I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition." She dodged out of the way as a red-shirted security guy ran buy, waving a purse that some lady had forgotten.
"What was that?" Gail asked.
"Nothing," Pat muttered. "Listen, I can't do this. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not even sure why I agreed to go on this . . . this . . ."
"Date?" Gail prompted, somewhat amused. This was a formidable young woman, but she was a nervous wreck about a simple movie date.
"Yeah . . . that."
"Well, do you like him?"
Pat scuffed her toe on the ground. "Yeah."
"Then you're gonna have to get your groove on!"
Pat stared at her friend.
"It means you've got break out of your isolationist rut and be . . . well, be a girl." Gail looked around. "Cool. Old Navy."
"If Mr. Baker sees me wearing something with the word 'Navy' on it, he'll probably lose his mind." Pat looked at her shoes. When her face came up, it was filled with resolve. "Works for me."
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Two hours later . . .
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Gail had dropped about twenty bucks to the boys to keep their video games playing rolling, but she had FINALLY actually gotten Pat to pick out a few things and Gail had to admit they fit the girl's personality. Pat wasn't flashy or sexy . . . well, she was sexy, but that sort of thing could wait. She had some snug yet sensibly comfortable denim jeans and a couple pairs of shorts, plus some generic but trendy tee-shirts. Pat had found clothes she could comfortably fight in if need be, which caused Gail to roll her eyes. But what really caught Gail's attention were the tank-tops.
She had gotten a bunch in camouflage (winter, forest, neon blue) patterns, and they all fit snugly. Pat didn't have an overly large bust, but she had enough to catch some attention. But it was the musculature of the woman that amazed Gail! Pat's physique was . . . dare she say it . . . flawless? She had perfect definition in her shoulders, arms and neck. It wasn't that she was bulky, but rather seemed to be cut out of marble. Gail had already admired Pat's legs, but it turned out those legs were only the beginning. Pat wasn't dressing to be fashionable. She was just trying to dress like . . . well, Pat. Except more comfortably.
"So, got any money left?" Gail asked. She had offered to chip in, but Pat wouldn't hear of it.
"Some. Not much though."
"Any chance you've got one of your dad's credit cards?"
Pat shook her head. "No. If I need anything past my basic expenses . . . sorry, I mean my allowance, then I have to requisition it.
Gail started to chuckle, then slowly she stopped. "Wait, you're serious?!"
"He still has carbon-copy versions of the forms." Pat was actually blushing with embarrassment.
Gail's mouth hung open. Pat's Uncle Lyle hadn't been kidding! Pat's father wasn't raising a daughter . . . he was training a soldier! No wonder Pat was so messed up.
"Well, we just need shoes and under-stuff, so . . ."
"Wait . . . under-stuff?"
"Yeah. Panties, bras, etc."
"Why would I need that? He's not . . . I mean Keith isn't expecting . . ."
Gail tried not to laugh. "Keith's not stupid enough to do anything like that. He's not like that. But lingerie isn't just for the guy. Sometimes it helps the girl feel a little sexier . . . more confident. C'mon, I've got an idea you might actually like. Please? Have I steered you wrong yet?"
"I guess not," Pat said.
Gail led her reluctant friend into Victoria's Secret. Pat felt as out of place as a bull at a tea party. There were things around that were silky or lacey or frilly. She was none of those things.
"You'll probably want one of the girls to fit you for the bra. Or you could go with a sports bra. They're pretty comfortable and work pretty well for an athletic bod. Yours qualifies."
"I guess I'll try one of those."
"Check out that pile of stuff and I'll see if they've got what I'm looking for."
Pat, despite some people misconceptions, really wasn't ashamed of her body. She worked hard on it. She just never really understood the point of dressing any way but practically. After all, how does a cashmere sweater help you disassemble a fully automatic weapon and clean it? It was at that moment that Pat realized something.
"Why on earth is a girl in high school cleaning an automatic weapon anyway?"
"I'm not even going to ask what that means," a young girl next to her said. "Can I help you find something?"
"She wants sports bras or something else comfortable!" came a voice from across the store.
"I can speak for myself!" Pat shouted back. "Uhm . . ."
"Sports bras or something else comfortable?" the girl asked with an endearing smile.
"Yeah. That."
The girl, whose name was listed as "Janine" on her nametag, showed her a number of practical but still mildly fashionable bras. Then she took Pat to a fitting area.
Gail wandered back that way after grabbing a number of items. She arrived just in time to see Pat with nothing on over her top but a measuring tape. 'Look at those abs!' she thought. 'It's just not fair!' She tossed Pat some underthings. Pat stared at her.
"Where's the rest of them?" she asked, stretching out the fabric.
"That's all there is to them," Gail said. "Now put 'em on. And yes, I'm sticking around to make sure you actually try them on." Gail stared impatiently at Pat and tapped on her watch. "C'mon! Let's do this thing!"
The salesgirl chuckled. "I'll be back in a moment. Some of these will be a little snug on the ribs. I'll grab new ones," she added, grabbing up the non-sports-bras and wandering out.
Suddenly, Pat felt more than a little self-conscious. "Do you really . . ."
"Yes, I really need to be here. Besides, it's not like you've got something I haven't seen before," she added. It turned out, she was wrong. For one brief moment, she saw Pat in the buff. It was a sight to behold.
"What?" Pat asked, pulling up a pair of boy-shorts. "I look like a freak don't I?" she added, looking for something to cover up with.
"That's not the impression I got. Damn girl. People have killed for worse bodies than yours. I think Troy was sacked by the Romans because that one broad had a body like yours."
"The Greeks."
"Hunh?"
"Troy was supposedly sacked by the Greeks, not the Romans. And it was the face of Helen of Troy that launched a thousand ships . . . not her body."
"Shut up," Gail said. She hated being corrected, even when she was wrong.
Pat turned around and felt . . . pride? It was new to her, whatever it was. 'I really DO have kind of a nice butt,' she thought. The boy-shorts exposed quite a bit of butt, but weren't as overly slutty as some of the things she had seen. She noticed some stray pubic hair poking through and she turned away from her friend. 'That just looks gross,' she thought. She had never thought of grooming "down there" before, but maybe . . .
Gail was breathing a little hard herself. It was more difficult than it should have been to tear her eyes away from Pat's backside. "Okay, how can I get an ass that looks like that?"
Pat was changing back into her normal clothes. "Just give up your life." She shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know why I said that."
'Yes you do,' Gail thought.
Pat picked up a few pairs of the boy-shorts and a few new bras. That afternoon, she had spent more money on clothes than she had in . . . well, ever. The salesgirl was ringing her up when the girls had an unexpected encounter.
"Oh this is precious!" came a voice from near a panty bin. It was a voice quite familiar to Pat. She turned around and saw Dr. Martin.
"Hey, isn't that . . ." Gail started to say. Then they saw Lola appear from behind a rack of nighties.
"Only you would think sumphin' like that was comfortable," the Latina said.
"What? It's not like they stay on for . . ." Carolyn had just noticed the two high-school girls standing there.
'Oh shit!' the redhead thought. She and Lola usually shopped at this mall because it wasn't near to their high school JUST to avoid situations like this.
"Hey Lola," Gail said, obviously confused. "Fancy running into . . . you . . . here."
"Yeah," Lola said. "Weird."
