Luck And The Lady

by Gini Lane

  

It has now come time for me to reveal that I was, on one occasion, quite scared by Maureen. It seems so strange to make this admission, since thoughts of that day now excite me to a point at which I must seek some sort of relief.

My "ordeal", as I felt it then, began with my desire to play the teasing innocent. The previous week, while passing a thrift store window, my gaze chanced upon what I can only assume had once been a figure skating costume. It was really quite a simple, though attractive garment: a very cute dress consisting of a blue satin bodice and an extremely short skirt of layered white chiffon. I had my doubts as to whether it had actually ever been worn, as it appeared to be in such a fine condition. My desire to own the outfit was so strong that I bought it without knowing whether or not it would even fit. It wasn't until later in the day, having returned home after finishing my shopping, that I was able to finally try on my new dress.

I wasn't disappointed. The skirt flipped up and down, this way and that, as I walked, twisted and turned before my bedroom mirror. I found the layer upon layer of chiffon gave my butt a tantalising accent. When bending over, I was pleased to see, I exposed more than a hint of my pretty peach panties. The delicate lace trim was clearly visible. I stripped them off, freeing my erection, allowing it to rub against the inside of the chiffon skirt, beads of cum staining the delicious fabric as I crossed my bedroom. I pulled on a white pair of rumba panties and, after a brief inspection, was pleased to see that they, together with the layered skirt, worked to conceal my rather unfeminine bulge.

The bodice, gripping my waist as would a corset, seemed nearly tailor-made. I write "nearly" because it was ever so slightly loose about the bust. It was such a delicious costume and excited me so that I was greatly tempted to put my hand up the sassy swishy skirt and begin pleasuring myself. While I managed to not yield to that temptation , I will admit to placing both hands on the soft chiffon and giving myself a few slow, but noisy strokes.

I simply had to share my new outfit, and the passion it aroused, with Maureen. Wasting no time, I slipped on my long winter coat, a pair of navy pumps, my purse, and went out the door.

Along the way I decided I would stop at Simpson's, thinking that I might buy a new bra, one that was padded, so as to make the bust fit a bit better.

I must have looked a sight, walking in the cold weather of late December. While my coat was long, any passerby could see that my legs were bare. And, of course, when I arrived at Simpson's I dared not unbutton the heavy coat. I kept it wrapped tightly about me, concealing my pretty new dress; though there was nothing I could do to prevent the hang of the coat from being spoiled by the skirt's many layers of chiffon.

 

I have always found shopping for clothing the most intoxicating of exercises. To be surrounded by other attractive women, inspecting, comparing and judging lingerie, the most intimate of clothing, was the most erotic of all – so much so that the previous winter, I will admit, I came while shopping in the lingerie department of an expensive department store (I dare not disclose which one).

I remember I was fingering the lacy cups of a bustier. I was very excited indeed, extremely hard beneath a tight cream knit skirt, white silk slip, pantyhose and high-rise Rago contour panties. Needless to say, my manhood would have been quite evident, yet I had decided to venture out like this, content in the knowledge that, leaving my winter coat done up, no one would be the wiser.

As I say, I was running my fingers over the cups of a bustier. It was most attractive, of white satin with a rose floral design. Strapless with boning, it featured removable garters, and a hidden hook and eye closure on the side. As I looked over the delicious garment, I pressed myself against the lingerie counter, applying pressure to my hard cock, well-hidden beneath the coat, skirt, slip and panties. I did this ever so discretely, leaving no possibility that any of the other women would have noticed anything odd.

And I hadn't intended anything to happen.

But suddenly, and with very little warning, I began to cum, my panties and pantyhose filling with the hot liquid. I dropped the bustier and grabbed the counter for support. Of course, this drew the attention of the other shoppers as well as the saleswomen. One took my arm, an act made me weaker still. I was still cumming in my panties as she led me to a chair.

This saleswoman was most concerned, wanting to call for the store's nurse. I begged her not to, explaining that I was just recovering from a bout with the flu – the most likely of excuses. Perhaps, I said to her, I shouldn't have forced myself out.

Too weak to argue, I let her undo the first few buttons of my heavy coat. In doing so, the back of her hands brushed against the cashmere sweater beneath, my pale pink sweater stretched by the most beautiful white satin bra and, of course, my breast forms. However innocent the intent, this beautiful woman was the first to touch my breasts. I stifled a shiver of excitement, lest she think it right that the nurse be called.

When I tried to leave, the saleswoman rested a gentle hand on my shoulder, insisting that I remain seated for just a few minutes more. I still become weak at the thought that she must have felt my lacy bra strap beneath the soft cashmere.

She brought me a glass of water and watched as I had a few sips. I couldn't help but notice what a very attractive woman she was. Perhaps fifteen or so years older than myself, her hair was pulled back, drawing attention to her expertly made-up face, her kind eyes. I had always looked admiringly at saleswomen like her, dressed so neatly in their crisp shiny blouses and smooth, form-fitting skirts.

In the weeks that followed I fantasized about that saleswoman, imagining her accepting a coffee date as thanks. I pictured us becoming fast friends, perhaps sharing in the occasional dinner or concert. Always the fantasy would lead to an honest relationship, a close and comfortable one in which I would eventually reveal my secret. There would be a gentle understanding, a kind acceptance, sincere compliments, and then…

 

But this was before I met Maureen – and the thought of surprising her ensured that this would be the briefest of shopping trips.

I quickly made my way for the lingerie department and scanned the bras hoping something would catch my eye. I found it in a very pretty floral lace underwire bra. It featured beautifully formed cups with a perfect marriage of padding, shape and support.

Considering my rumba panties, I settled on white. I prefer my bra and panties to match, if not in design, at least in colour. And at that point, I was wearing a peach bra with white panties – forgivable only because I'd changed panties after putting on my new outfit, and had then raced out the door.

To the bra, I added a pair of white stay-ups and, in a moment of spontaneity, matching pale blue bridal garters.

What fun, I thought, as the saleswoman rang up my purchases.

Before leaving the store, I made a beeline for the ladies room. I had been in this particular room before and appreciated the fact that it was one of those rare washrooms with full-size cubical doors. I would be able to put on my new purchases in complete privacy. No nosey shopper would be able to catch a glimpse of my ankles and feet as I prepared to meet Maureen.

I entered the nearest stall and hung my coat on one of the door hooks.

I decided to start with the white stay-ups. Kicking off my pumps, I removed them carefully from their protective package, then gently rolled them over my smooth, bare legs. The stockings had a slight glimmer, accenting my smooth legs. I was pleased to see that the shade of white welt was a perfect match for the skirt of my dress. The garters were next. They felt pleasantly tight around my thighs. I was happy that I'd decided to buy two, instead of the traditional single bridal garter. After all, I wasn't a bride – though I admit I'd very often fantasized about being one.

Reaching behind my neck, I unzipped the bodice and pushed it down beneath my breasts. It remained tight around my waist and the skirt stayed firmly in place. I removed my breast forms and placed them carefully, one in each coat pocket. I then unclasped the peach bra, revealing fully my smooth, soft, yet unfeminine chest. I used one of the straps to hang the bra on a hook.

I had just finished removing the tags from my lovely new padded bra when I heard two girls enter the ladies room. My heart started beating. I felt so exposed: my bodice down, no bra, my boyish chest. What if they should see me? It was a silly thought, really. The door was firmly locked. What was I thinking? That it would magically pop open, my secret revealed for all to see?

Still, it was with some nervousness that I slipped my arms through the lovely lacy straps.

"Julie!"I heard one of the girls say, a trace of irritation in her voice.

I starred through the small crack in the door. Both girls were standing at the counter, one was holding an open tube of lipstick.

Returning to the task at hand, I listened to their conversation as I clasped the three hooks at the back of the bra.

"Hey!"said the girl who'd spoken before.

"What? There's no one here?"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really. Is anyone else here?!"

I held my breath, careful not to make a sound.

The two girls had a fit of giggles.

I removed the breast forms from the coat pockets and slipped them into the padded silken cups. Now that I was again wearing a bra; my breast forms in place, my feminine figure returned to me, the nervousness I'd been experiencing fell away. I looked down at the fresh, dainty lace overlay and traced it with a manicured fingernail. Although they were hidden by my skirt, I could feel that my lacy rumba panties were growing wet with precum. Wouldn't it be fun, I thought, to simply exit the stall like this, proudly displaying my pretty new bra to the two ladies on the other side of the door. This erotic thought in mind, I again peered through the crack and was met with an equally erotic sight.

The girls were in one another's arms, kissing lightly. The taller girl – the one named Julie – was fingering the hem of the other girl's skirt.

I looked away, but only momentarily. I felt I was intruding on their private moment together, but simply couldn't resist.

I again looked to see that the short girl was now sitting on the counter, skirt hiked around her middle, her legs wrapped around the waist of the other. I watched as Julie's left hand caressed the short girl's breasts through her tight white sweater.

My hands were on my own breasts, gently rubbing, exploring the new bra, its textures, the rigid lace, the sweet little bow between the cups

The panties of the seated girl were such a lovely shade of pink. I wondered whether she had been thinking of Julie when she had chosen to wear them. Had she wanted to look pretty for her special friend? Where these her most special panties?

I watched as Julie's hand fumbled with the lacy waistband, before disappearing beneath the shiny pink material.

Slowly, I lifted the skirt of my outfit. Although I was extremely careful, I couldn't prevent the silk bodice from rustling somewhat.

I froze, fearful that I might have been heard; yet the tall girl continued to caress her friend, bringing forward stifled sobs and moans of pleasure.

As I continued watching their lovemaking, I pulled down my white rumba panties, grasped my cock and began to masturbate slowly.

I paused when I heard the shorter girl whispering to her friend. I strained to listen.

"Oh, yes, Julie. Ooo, that feels so good. Even better than last time."

As exciting as the scene was, I couldn't resist casting my eyes downward. My own sweet bra rising and falling, the lace overlay changing, ever so slightly, with each breath. With the soft padding, my breasts appeared larger than what I was used to. I luxuriated in the feeling of tension that the weight of my breasts brought to the bra straps. Beyond the silk encased mounds, my left hand, nails painted a sophisticated cerise, was holding up my sassy skirt, while my right massaged my erect cock, a froth of precum covering the slender fingers.

"Mmm, that's it, Julie. Tease my clit you little slut."

It was all I could do not to cum immediately. I could stroke myself only a few times before feeling the need to stop.

"Ooo, Julie, your fingers. I'm going to cum."

"Then cum, princess. Cum, princess. Cum for your queen."

I could take it no longer. I pulled my peach bra from the hook and placed it before me, using the silken cups to catch the gobs of cum spraying from my cock.

I bit my lip, trying to remain silent. But the force of my orgasm shook me so. I lost my balance and stumbled against the cubicle wall.

There was a great commotion across the room. I could hear Julie and her little friend quickly gather their things and leave.

I was nowhere near as fast. First, I had to attend to the rather considerable amount of cum covering my cock. This was fairly difficult as I had only one hand with which to perform this task, the other occupied with keeping my layered skirt free of the sticky mess. Only after I was satisfied that I'd succeeded in mopping up all my cum did I drop my skirt and once again raise my panties. Not that the rumba panties were entirely fresh – I'd been staining the satin and lace from the moment they'd replaced my peach panties – it was just that I didn't want too create more of a mess.

My next task involved my peach bra, which had fallen to the floor when I'd lost my balance. I reached down and placed it in the fancy pink shopping bag that had held my purchases. Again, I had to show great care, lest I spill the semen that had not yet soaked into the satin cups on the floor or, worse, my cute navy pumps. Having accomplished this, I carefully folded the small bag and placed it in my purse.

Finally, I had to zip up my bodice. I'd thought this would take the least amount of time, but was surprised to find that the padding of my new bra increased my size to such an extent that the bust no longer fit. I must say I was left in a bit of a quandary.

Should I replace the new bra with my peach one? The bodice would be slightly loose, but knowing Maureen she would soon have me unzipped, and I questioned whether she'd even notice. On the other hand, she would be certain to spot the semen covered cups. How, I wondered, would I explain such a sight. She was so used to me dressing as neatly as possible.

Perhaps, I thought, I should just do up my coat and present myself to her as I'd fantasized doing with Julie and her friend.

"I bought this for you," I would say, as I removed my coat and revealed my pretty new bra.

Oh, but then she wouldn't see my new outfit – at least, not as I wished her to.

Frustrated, I struggled for several minutes, forcing the bodice over my breasts; struggling until, at last, my lovely new bra was covered by the blue satin. Once in place, the bodice zipped up with ease.

I picked up my purse, put on my coat and exited the cubicle. My high heals echoing off the tiles, I walked over to the full length mirror. After assuring myself that I was quite alone in the ladies room, I opened my coat for final inspection. I could not have been more pleased. The bust, the focus of my attention, and worry, looked completely natural. The satin bodice strained, constricting my breasts; in short, I appeared ready to burst out of my dress. I couldn't resist running my hands over the tense mounds, delighting in the feeling.

I made certain to button my coat, then, finally, left the ladies room.

Imagine my surprise when I chanced upon Julie and her little friend not twenty feet from the ladies room door. They appeared to be studying the store directory, but I knew they were really in wait to see who had overheard their passionate encounter. The couple cast what I assume they thought were discreet glances my way. Of course I couldn't help myself. I gave them both my finest seductive look as I passed, pressing the tip of my tongue ever so slightly to my pink coloured lips. I didn't look back to see their reaction. Perhaps they returned to the ladies room, as I hoped they would.

 

My seductive look aside, I'm sure Julie and her friend thought that they had shocked me – just as I was certain that the passionate acts in which Maureen partook would have shocked them. This was my thought as I arrived at her door.

Maureen greeted me as she typically did, a small peck on the cheek at her open door, a more passionate embrace once the door was closed.

"Oh, darling, what a pleasant surprise," she said.

"I have another surprise for you."

I let my coat fall to the floor and stood before her, hands on my hips, my ankles crossed.

Maureen raised both hands to her mouth, whether in surprise or to stifle a giggle, I do not know. Nor do I care. What I do know is that my sexy new outfit had the desired effect as she soon had me on her bed. In fact, she pretty much threw herself on top of me, her hands roaming my taught satin bodice, squeezing my breasts. It wasn't long before she found the zipper at the back of my neck and drew it down. She sat on me, her legs encased in tight tan slacks, held my waist like a vice. I was trying my best to pull the bodice over my new, larger bra.

Being stronger than me, it wasn't long before Maureen had freed my breasts from their satin prison. I was amazed and excited to see both mounds spring upward. Watching Maureen as she felt me up was the most erotic of sights.

"Darling," she said with delight, "my how you've grown."

"Do you like my new bra?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, but why the need to be bigger, precious?

Maureen put her hand up my skirt.

"And you've grown here, as well," she said, moving farther down on the bed. Taking the hem of my skirt, she folded it back, revealing fully my rumba panties.

"Hmm, looks like someone's been leaking. Perhaps we should look into getting you some panty shields."

She lowered her lips to the silk and lace, kissing the head of my cock through the delicate fabric. I watched as she turned her attention elsewhere, licking my testicles. The top of my panties, just an inch below the lacy waistband where my cock was making such a mess, bore traces of Maureen's cherry lipstick.

I moaned in pleasure.

"You like that, don't you, you little slut." The sound of the word – the very same name Julie had been called – excited me so.

And I sensed Maureen could tell.

The tenderness she'd shown only a moment earlier, the affection when kissing me through my panties, was now gone. She took my right garter and started tugging it down my leg.

"Isn't that what you are, Rina, a little slut? I mean, you knew by dressing like this you'd end up where you are now, in my bed. You knew your cute little dress would make my pussy wet, didn't you slut?"

She was now removing the garter from my left leg.

"Do you want to be fucked. Is what you want, slut? To be fucked long and hard?"

She was really quite rough, but this excited me further.

"That is what you want, isn't it, Rina? To be fucked?

"Yes, Maureen. Please, Maureen. Please fuck me?"

Maureen grabbed my left wrist and pulled me up. I was completely taken aback by her strength. Instinct told me to pull away, but her grip was too tight.

"Are you sure you want me to fuck you, Rina? Are you sure you don't want some nasty boy to fuck you, to rub his dirty hands over your big breasts."

"No, Maureen. It's you I want. I don't want anyone else."

"You know what I think? I think you're a slut and a tease. I think you like the boys and maybe a few of the girls to see you in your sexy little dresses. You want them to see your legs and that adorable butt of yours."

I didn't know what to say. It was all true, I did want to look sexy. I loved it when boys – and, yes, a few girls – looked at me with desire.

She took one of the wedding garters, wrapped it around the bedpost and then my wrist.

"Don't worry, darling, I know how to treat slutty girls like you. I know what you want. But I want to be satisfied first."

By this time she had used the second garter to secure my right wrist to the other bedpost. I was completely at her mercy. Rearranging the skirt, my lipstick and cum stained panties once again hidden from view, she sat on the layered chiffon. I couldn't help but squirm.

"Not yet, Rina. Remember I come first."

She unbuttoned her satin blouse and let it slip off, covering my thighs. Her bra was pressed up against my face. I could smell her White Linen perfume.

"I'm going to undo my bra now, Rina. And when I do I want you to suck my nipples like a good little slut."

She took her right breast and put it against my face. I wanted to reach for it, to hold it in my hands, but couldn't break the hold on my wrists. I was surprised that such dainty looking garters could prove so strong.

I sucked the nipple, teasing it with my tongue.

"That's it, you slut. Mmm, suck it slut."

Maureen began running her fingers through my hair. Though she was still wearing her tight slacks, Maureen rocking back and forth over my chiffon skirt.

"You really are a pretty little slut, " she said. "You looked so cute standing there by the front door, showing me your sexy little dress. I knew right then and there you wanted me to fuck you. Isn't that what you wanted? For me to climb on top of you and fuck your pretty little bod?"

My wrists tied, I still managed to thrust against the crotch of Maureen's slacks. She continued to rock back and forth, messing up my skirt.

Off in the distance, I thought I could hear the doorbell ring.

"But what would've happened if I hadn't been home? What would my little slut princess have done? I wonder. She would've been so horny. Maybe she'd have found some boy to tease with that naughty little outfit of hers. I think she'd have teased him, teased him until she'd receive a good fucking. Isn't that true, Rina? Isn't that what you'd have done, slut girl?

I heard a click of locks, then a man's voice calling Maureen's name.

"Fuck!" Maureen scrambled off me, put on her blouse, and began fumbling with the buttons.

"Wait here," she said, not realizing the irony.

With that she closed the door and left the room.

I was now alone feeling very frightened. I had no idea what was going on. There was a man in the house. I could hear some muffled conversation which, try as I might, I couldn't quite make out.

Beneath the new bra and breast forms my heart was beating wildly. I looked down at my exposed bra, Maureen's bra was draped over the padded lace cups. The passion having subsided, now replaced by fear, my bodice, gathered as it was around my waist, seemed uncomfortable. My layered skirt was completely dishevelled, leaving my panties exposed.

I pulled on the garters, trying to stretch them, to tear them; anything to free myself. But they were too strong.

I wiggled, moving my butt from side to side, attempting to get the skirt to cover my panties. I had to hide the bulge of my cock and the drying semen stains. Then, at least, if anyone saw me, they'd see me as Rina.

The thought chilled me to the bone. What if this man did see me? Would it really be worse to be seen as a boy in drag, bound to the bedposts. It could very well be worse for this unknown, faceless man to see me as a woman, a slut in bondage.

I doubled my efforts, but simply couldn't free myself of the garters.

As I lay there, watching the twin cups of my bra rise and fall, trying to catch my breath, I thought of what Maureen had said earlier. I had been acting like a tease. How could I help it. I was finally living as I'd always wanted: as a woman, a beautiful woman. I wanted people to look at me, to see me as beautiful and desirable. I'd craved the attention. I'd dressed in ways that would attract attention: in tight dresses and short skirts. On occasion I'd worn light and loose skirts, and had allowed the wind to catch the hems, exposing my virginal panties. I'd sat in a food court, sipping a milkshake, appearing to be oblivious to the fact that my wrap skirt had fallen open, exposing the welt of my opera length stockings and a metal clip of my red waist cinch.

Maureen entered the room, the saddest look on her face.

"Oh, Rina, I'm so sorry."

She knelt down beside the bed and kissed my cheek repeatedly.

"I'd forgotten my landlord was coming by."

She kissed my cheek again, then stood up and began to unbutton her blouse.

"I'm so sorry. You must have been so frightened."

Maureen removed her bra, revealing her beautiful firm breasts. She reached behind her back, pulling down the back zip of her slacks.

"You know I'd never let anything happen to you. You know I love you."

After pealing off her slacks and panties, she straddled me. I could feel her pull my panties down. She pulled me inside her and, words of love on her lips, began to slowly fuck me.

  

  

  

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