Jules 04 - Mall Games

Author's Note: This is a chapter in a multi-part story and is not intended to stand alone. I just couldn't resist the mall exhibitionist trope. This is my first attempt at writing erotica, so feedback is highly encouraged.

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Against my better judgment, I find myself driving J to the nearby shopping mall. It turns out, what she meant by "sorting me out" includes a new wardrobe. My conservative work wear and weekend comfort clothes apparently don't pass muster. I'll admit, I haven't allowed myself any retail therapy in a long time. And did she say we are friends? I feel a little flutter in my stomach when I think of that. It's like I'm back at school and the coolest girl in class just said she likes me. Her charismatic charm and easy going personality push past any reluctance I have. Perhaps this will be just what the doctor ordered.

The next few hours are a blur of shopping and laughing. J helps me pick out several sets of work clothes - fitted blouses - some slightly sheer, hip-hugging slacks that show off my backside, and even a couple of skirts. J's eye and sense of style are impeccable. Everything she picks is flattering, even sexy, while still being appropriate for the office. I can't wait to see the team's reaction on Monday.

We also pick out a few new bras and panties. J chides me about the utilitarian underwear that she's seen on me. I'd love to say that she hasn't seen my best, but I'd be lying. J also selects one bright red thong, which she assures me is for special occasions. Next up are shoes. Two pairs of tasteful heels and a set of cute, strappy sandals. The sandals stay on my feet and my road worn sneakers go into the bag.

Eventually we find ourselves in a trendy little boutique, looking at casual wear. I've always fallen back on baggy t-shirts and blue jeans, but a stern look from J lets me know that they are unacceptable. Soon, I'm in the fitting room changing into a little, yellow sundress. The dress fits snugly around my torso, fastened by a row of buttons up the entire front. From the hips, it flares out widely allowing the fabric to move freely around my legs. It hits just above the knee, and provides enticing flashes of thigh as it swishes around. Two spaghetti straps leave my arms and shoulders almost completely bare and the dress is cut low enough to reveal the initial swell of my modest cleavage. The bright floral pattern serves to catch the eye.

I step out of the fitting room into a small alcove that is still largely hidden from prying eyes. J is leaning against the wall casually waiting, while a young clerk is busy gathering garments to fold or hang. J lets out an exasperated sigh at the way my unflattering bra spills out from under the dress. I appraise myself in the mirror and have to admit the dress is a stunner. But, the amount of bra that shows around the edges reinforces just how much skin it doesn't cover.

J walks up behind me, standing between me and the sales clerk. She places her hands on my shoulders possessively. Suddenly, my mind leaps back to yesterday in the restroom, and the hairs on my neck stand on end. "Tsk...tsk..." she whispers playfully in my ear. "This will never do." Her hands drop down from my shoulders to where the top of my bra is jutting out from underneath the dress. She hooks her fingers loosely around the bra straps and slowly slides her hands upwards, grazing the skin above my breasts with the backs of her knuckles. The contact is ever so slight, but leaves a trail of goose bumps in its wake. When she reaches the tops of my shoulders, she begins to draw the straps down until they hang limply over my arms. "Won't do at all..." she breathes as she reaches in front of me to open the top button of the dress and then a second.

I close my eyes and indulge in the feeling of J's breath on my neck and the closeness of her face to mine. Whenever I'm with her, I feel like a passenger. I'm just along for the ride that is my life, powerless to change course. Her hands draw slowly back over my shoulders as she begins to purr. My breath catches as her teeth close on my earlobe in a playful nip. "Ask her to help," she whispers in a conspiratorial tone and then backs away out of view.

The sales clerk is young, probably fresh out of college, and very pretty. She has a bit of mischief to her smile, which only occasionally peaks out from beneath the layers of professionalism. She keeps herself busy with the discarded garments, but I notice her glancing my way more than once. She may just be doing her job, but her gaze seems to linger a touch longer than strictly necessary.

"Um, could you give me a hand?" I try to make a show of struggling to reach the clasp of the bra under the dress. It's an act, of course. What woman reaches adulthood without the ability to remove her bra in all sorts of situations. I suspect the sales girl knows this, but decides to play along.

"My pleasure," the young woman replies as she steps behind me. "Yeah, that bra definitely does NOT work with the dress," she chides. I'm still facing the mirror and watching her reflection. I notice her eyes catch on the two open buttons. It's not lost on me that she is standing exactly where J stood moments ago.

"No? I was thinking I could start a trend." Was I flirting? I've always regarded myself as firmly in the heterosexual camp. I never even had the drunken displays of kissing other girls which seemed so popular when I was in college. But I've certainly had lots of sexual tension over the last two days with J, and even with Kim to a lesser extent. Maybe I'm just enjoying the attention, maybe J has me completely wound up, or just maybe that barrier is starting to crumble. Whatever the reason, I feel more than a little flutter in my stomach... among other places.

I force myself not to gasp as I feel her fingers lightly touch my back. "If anyone could do it, I'm sure you could." She slowly pulls the back of the dress away from my body, probably further than is necessary to reach the clasp. The open buttons allow the front of the dress to spread teasingly from the pressure. "But I suspect I'll like the look better without it." That definitely sounded like flirting.

The sales girl's movements were unhurried, almost languid. I feel like they, and she, have mesmerized me. She takes hold of the bra on either side of the clasp and eases it open, letting her knuckles graze across my back in the process. Still holding the garment, she waits wordlessly for my response. I'm too busy savoring the moment to move. I stand paralyzed, afraid that any movement will shatter the spell of the moment. She guides one arm, then the other, out of the dangling straps. At last, she reaches one hand around me to take hold of the bra and slowly starts to pull it up and out of the dress. My nipples go rock hard as the material scrapes across them. Finally free of the dress, the bra falls to our feet, discarded.

We both take a long moment to stare at my reflection in the mirror. One strap dangles loosely over my shoulder, dislodged by the previous actions, and the half-open dress threatens to fall away from my right breast completely. A flush of arousal spreads from my face across my partially exposed chest. I breathe heavily, causing my chest to rise and fall enticingly.

"Wow," The sales girl says, still waiting for me to break out of the spell. But I'm too far gone. "You look amazing in that dress." I smile at the compliment. She slowly runs her hand up and down my arms with surprising familiarity. Her touch is tantalizingly light. "If you'd like, I could show you some strapless bras to wear with it. Or..." she licks her lips provocatively. "... you could just go without."

"Which do you like better?" I ask, perhaps a bit too excitedly.

"Definitely without." She loops a finger though the fallen strap. For just a moment, she tugs downward on the strap, bringing my nipple into view. Then she draws the strap up my shoulder, covering me once again. The young clerk steps away from me, and I slowly return to reality.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asks invitingly.

"God, yes!" I scream in my mind. Straight or not, I have never wanted anyone more. But I sense that this encounter is over. I turn to face her and say reluctantly "No, I think that will be all. Thank you for your help..." My eyes drop down to her name tag. I can't help but notice the hard points of her nipples poking salaciously through her shirt. It's my turn to let my gaze linger a little too long. "...Lisa".

"You're very welcome. Find me when you're ready to check out." And with one more wicked smile, she turns and heads back into the rest of the store. I feel J's presence behind me.

"Tell her you'll wear it out. And trash the bra." J walks past me, out of the store and into the mall. I take a moment to calm down, then pay for the dress.

Once outside, J says we have one more thing to take care of. She takes my hand and leads me to the ladies room. I stop short of the door, remembering the events of the previous day. J rolls her eyes. "Come on, I won't bite... this time," and drags me in.

J guides me to the mirror and produces the same makeup bag as before. And again, she skillfully applies the makeup. The effect this time it's more fun and flirty and less smoldering vixen. "Last but not least," she says. "You need to fix your hair." In her outstretched hand is my hairbrush, with its handle pointing accusingly at me. J gives me that same damn smirk as I reluctantly take hold of the brush. All of my nerves are standing on end as I can't help but replay, well... everything from the past day in my mind. But sometimes a brush is just a brush.

J whistles approvingly as I study myself in the mirror. I'm unrecognizable from just a few hours ago. The dress is casually stylish and shows off my shape in an enticing way. The makeup compliments the look, and invites attention to my glossy lips. My hair flows silkily down to my shoulders.

"One final touch," she says, as she runs her hands up my legs and under my dress. She slides my unflattering underwear down until they pool at my feet. I obediently step out of them, one foot at a time. She hands me the bright red thong and watches me put it on. Then she picks up my discarded panties and drops them in the trash with a scoff.

Standing to my side, J turns my head towards her with her fingertip on my chin. She runs her finger tips down my cheek, then slowly down my neck. I am completely enthralled by her gaze as she hooks one finger under the strap of my dress and slowly draws me towards her. My eyes drift close and my mouth opens in anticipation of the kiss that is sure to follow. Instead, I once again feel her breath on my ear. "You look good enough to eat... Little Butterfly." And with that, she ushers me back out to the mall.

I need a few minutes to put my mind back together, so we drop the bags in the car and head to the food court. J isn't hungry, so offers to find a table while I get my food. Out of all the time I've spent with her, I don't think I've ever seen her with as much as a glass of water. Does this woman ever eat? Maybe that's how she stays so toned.

One uninspiring salad later, I have my arousal and my hunger in check. We chat lightly about the day's purchases and anticipate everyone's reactions. Finally, that damn smirk returns as she says "It's time for the next round of the game."

"What?" I ask suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"Here's how it's going to play out. I printed out three pictures from your little adventure yesterday." I feel my pulse quicken and a sense of dread overtakes me. "I've given these pictures to three different people working in the mall."

"Oh god..." I murmur under my breath.

"Now I know you probably don't want the pictures floating around in just anyone's hands. So, you're going to get them back. I'll point you at each of the people with the pictures and you have to convince them to return them."

I have very little doubt that the 'convincing' will be sexual in nature. I briefly consider just letting them keep the pictures. Plenty of women have nudes in the world and most likely nothing really bad would come of this. But I know, in the end I will play her game. Something about J compels me to do as she asks. Maybe she's right. Maybe deep down I do want this. But right now, I just feel resigned to my fate.

"Okay," I say. "I'll do it." J's smile widens and I detect a hint of wickedness.

"There are just two rules: First, you have to get one picture before I tell you who has the next one. That should keep you honest. If I don't think you're complying with the spirit of the game, you won't get the next picture." She has clearly thought this through.

"And second, you can't offer money or things with physical value. You have to convince them to give you the pictures using just your wits and your... charms." And there it is. Her meaning is clear.

"The pictures are increasingly explicit. The later pictures will undoubtedly command a higher price." J has a look of pure mischief about her. The cat who ate the canary. She stands and beckons me to follow. "Come along, Little Butterfly. Let's go play."