"Do come back," Gabrielle urged. "We get new shipments every two weeks and I'm waiting for some really lovely outfits would look stunning with your colouring."
Steph, grasping her bag, tightly, nodded and almost ran out of the store, Gabrielle grinning after her.
*****
Later that night, Mario heaving and groaning on top, his stiff prick pistoning inside her soaking pussy, Steph closed her eyes and remembered the feel of Gabrielle's hands on her breasts. Mario's fingers squeezed her full tits harshly and almost painfully as his hips pushed into her and Steph remembered how soft and gentle Gabrielle's fingers had felt as they cupped, then oh so gently squeezed her breast and the feel of Gabrielle's finger trailing over her engorged nipple. Mario's breathing increased rapidly, and Steph jumped slightly as he released his hold on her breasts to grab her thighs.
Deep within her groin, she felt a pulling, a deep ache and opening her eyes, she stared into the sweating face of her husband. Wrapping her feet around his thick waist, she wiggled, trying to push her clit against the bony part of his groin. Grunting, he pulled her thighs up against his waist and then giving a harsh yell, his prick began spasming and Steph felt hot scalding cum squirting inside her slippery passageway.
Thrusting, he pushed into her in long, strong strokes, emptying his prick. Steph felt her orgasm edging away and fought the urge to cry. Her breasts felt swollen and hard, the nipples engorged and aching. Mario pulled out abruptly, his still stiff penis trailing a string of pale almost translucent sperm. Shaking himself, he stood up, a little weak kneed and made his way to the bathroom to wash – something he did each time, leaving Steph feeling like she was somehow dirty.
Surreptitiously, she closed her eyes again and cupping her breast, rolled the engorged nipple between her fingers. Her other hand went between her thighs, slippery and wet with her own arousal and her husband's cum. Pushing a finger gently up her cunt, she relished the feel, thick and pasty, of his sperm. She remembered again the smell of the store, that soft, perfumed oh so feminine scent that went so perfectly with the whole feel of silk and satin, brushed cotton and femininity. She searched her memory and recreated the moment when the Gabrielle's long capable fingers cupped her breast, recalling the feel of that soft palm on the underside of her heavy beast, then the sweet electric spark of her finger trailing along her nipple as she pulled the bodice up. Steph actually heard the slippery wet slick sound of her own hand as she frantically rubbed her swollen clit. With a stifled groan, she imagined Gabrielle's soft lips coming toward her, leaning down and capturing the engorged nipple, suckling long, hard.
Steph moaned as the first wave of her orgasm engulfed her. She sighed harshly, pressing her groin against her hand, relishing the feel of the hot spray which spurted from her urethra – the reason in fact that Mario seldom stayed with her.. Female ejaculation was rare and in Mario's world, unheard of. He found it off-putting and even disgusting. The first time it had happened, Steph had been mortified, the hot aching, full sensation in the front of her groin, then the spray, spurting out in rhythmic contractions as she came. She thought, horrified, that she had actually peed and Mario had yelled at her, thinking the same.
It had not happened for a long time after that until one day as Mario fucked her harshly from behind, she had felt it again and cupping her hand between her thighs, her breasts stretched and shaking as he pushed into her, her eyes closed as she imagined his prick throbbing and pushing into her swollen red cunt and then that feeling ... that beautiful, hot, aching feeling and fluid squishing from between her cupped fingers, trailing clear streams down against her wrist, on the bed. Since then, Mario seemed to consciously avoid allowing her to reach her peak – a course of action Steph rationally understood and had accepted – until recently.
She had done some research, some searching and come to the conclusion not only was this a natural occurrence but she was in fact extremely fortunate. It was NOT urine she had pointed out to her husband, but was speculated to come from the periurtheral gland. Mario was skeptical and reiterated that he found it "unnatural" and "disgusting". Steph gave up, and the fact that her husband found her natural functions revolting combined with his very obvious efforts to avoid her reaching orgasm effectively killed any please she might have gleaned from their couplings. Her hand and privacy were the only relief she had experienced for some time. Worse, deep inside, she thought Mario was probably right – that it was disgusting and that she was a freak.
Sighing, she rolled over, opening her side drawer and wiping her hand on the hand towel she kept there for that purpose, the running it between her still tense thighs. The bed dipped as Mario got in and leaning over, pecked her cheek.
***********
"Thank you, enjoy your purchase." The clerk handed Steph her change. Steph hesitated and the girl looked at her inquiringly.
"Is Gabrielle not in today?" Steph forced herself to ask.
"She's on lunch – she should be back shortly. Do you want to leave a message?"
The past few months had passed with a blur of sensation and emotions that made the normally stoic Steph feel she was sometimes going mad. She had returned to Intimates the next week and found the same comfortable feeling with Gabrielle that she had left with the very first time. Coming from a close-knit, rather misogynist community, Steph had had very few friends outside her immediate family, and certainly not from any non-Latino group. It was refreshing, exciting and stimulating to meet someone with such a radically different background to her own rather mundane upbringing.
To Steph, Gabrielle was not only gorgeous in the way a small town girl dreamed of being gorgeous but her intelligence, verve and cosmopolitan lifestyle intrigued her and drew her back again and again. Steph knew in some ways she was lucky. Mario worked long hours and made good money and liked to see her spend it – encouraging her to buy clothes and showering her with what she secretly felt was gaudy jewelry. She knew that she was envied among her group but they didn't know the mind-numbing boredom she experienced, the disgust she was starting to feel more and more at the hurried, brutal couplings, the need to expand a mind that her husband refused to acknowledge she possessed.
Gabrielle had changed all that. Steph devoured the books Gaby suggested; dragged her to movies Steph had never heard of, and slowly, painfully began to learn that she had her own opinions, her own feelings, her own viewpoints. Now, when the girls got together at their favourite coffee shop, they were often the center of many envious and amused glances as they passionately argued points and debated issues that Steph had had no awareness of before her meeting with this fascinating girl.
As Steph would prepare for their now weekly meetings, she would laugh at herself.
"It's like I'm going on a date." she would berate herself, rummaging through her lingerie drawer, looking at and discarding outfit after outfit, then, carefully applying makeup. She would studiously ignore the fluttering in her stomach, the swelling breasts and engorged nipples as she dressed, caressing her own breasts, closing her eyes, thinking of her friend's soft mouth, long pretty legs and firm breasts. Sighing, she would touch herself briefly between her legs, astonished at the dampness, telling herself that she was just trying to look her best.
Although today was not the day to meet Gaby, Steph had felt an overwhelming desire to see her. She found that she was increasingly impatient to see her friend, storing away snippets of wisdom gleaned from her newly expanded reading list, rehearsing amusing incidents that occurred in the course of her largely mundane days, generally finding reasons to call her, just to hear her merry voice.
With each meeting, Steph found herself blossoming. When with the lovely long limbed Gabrielle, Steph felt sometimes she was someone else. She found that with Gaby's urging, she had opinions, sometimes even decided ones that she was beginning to understand were legitimate. For the first time too, she began to feel that her short waisted, heavy breasted figure was not short and stocky but lush and sensuous. Gabrielle would help her choose beautiful soft lingerie, run lingering fingers along the sensitive breasts and laughing, confess herself envious. She would stand behind Steph, her long spare hands warm on her shoulders, her beautiful blue eyes laughing into Steph's in the mirror, while against her back, Steph would feel the soft firm mounds of her friend's own small pretty breasts.
Best of all, Gabrielle, like Steph, was a toucher. Walking down the street, she would link her arm companionably in her friends. When they met she would kiss, first on the cheek, but lately right on the lips, and Steph even felt the kiss last time lingered slightly. As they spoke and argued, Gabrielle would constantly touch Steph's arm, or squeeze her leg, even lean over and gently push a strand of the heavy ebony hair behind her ear.
Their once a week meeting was no longer enough for Steph who found she wanted to see Gaby every day. Today, residual anger from her coupling with her unappreciative husband still fresh, she feel a yearning to see her friend.
On a whim, she dressed, then gathering up her purse, hurried to Intimates – arguing to herself that she would just see if Gaby had time for a quick coffee. She had been unreasonably crushed when she stepped into Intimates only to see Claudia, Gaby's clerk there by herself.
