During the rest of the summer, I treated the idea of having a threesome as a mere fantasy, not as something that might actually happen someday. I didn’t have Adrienne’s contact information, so there was little chance of us ever meeting again. Whenever I thought of her, it was solely to get myself aroused for going at it with my boyfriend. Unfortunately, our sex life dumbed down a bit after that Sunday morning in the car. Alex had to work overtime constantly, and, though I was busy with ‘ameliorating’ mon français, I rather neglected learning some French dirty talk. Even my own cum-covered face as I had been admiring it in the mirror that morning, moved to some slumbering area of my mind.
One afternoon in early autumn, I felt particularly homesick and decided to take a day off from working and studying, and to go for lunch at an Italian restaurant, to remedy my homesickness. I had asked Alex to join me, but he’d texted that he couldn’t make it, and so I went alone and in my depressed mood drank too much red wine – two glasses is much for me – and then the owner of the place sat at my table, chatted to me in Italian, and poured me an Amaretto, so that when I left the restaurant, I was rather buzzed.
It's not much good sitting at home alone drunk, so I decided to browse through some stores. Inside a fancy lingerie store, I fell in love with a stunning dark-brown Lise Charmel-set of silk stockings and suspenders, with matching bra and panties. It sure was outside my price range, but I had been drinking… I went into the booth to try it on, and took a picture of my body barely clothed in that gorgeous silky material and sent it to Alex with the text: Tu veux l’acheter pour moi? xxx
I said to myself that if he wouldn’t buy it for me, I’d be on a flight to Rome that very evening. For I absolutely adored how I looked in the set! My breasts were marvellously propped up by the bra without feeling constricted, and the skin of my thighs seemed particularly soft and milky between the stockings and the panties. With those narrow suspension bands holding up my stockings, I felt positively wrapped up like a present. I felt powerful too, like I was a soldier in uniform, like a femme fatale.
I sighed because Alex still hadn’t replied, and I wanted to be seen like this; I wanted eyes to lust after me now, hands to grapple for me, some engorged phallus to chase after me… I wanted to be fucked like this, looking like I did. I wanted to see someone’s eyes widen and go wild… I remembered my cum-covered face as I had seen it in the mirror not too long ago, and I thought: God such a face would look all the better over this outfit! All these thoughts and the sight of me in the mirror were making me horny, but then I sighed again and took another look at the price tag.
I had already unclasped the bra, having decided to be sensible and not to buy the set, when suddenly the curtain behind me moved and someone slipped in. I was startled, but before I could make a sound of protest, I saw her face in the mirror: it was Adrienne.
She wore a beige linen coat that fell to her knees, and she had her hands in her pockets and looked at my body through the mirror with an utterly unfazed expression. Her grey eyes were inspecting my breast, waist and thighs with an almost arrogant nonchalance, the way an art student would observe a marble statue. The only things that could have made her look even more French were a beret and a pipe.
‘Excuse me,’ I sputtered while looking at her through the mirror. ‘This one’s occupied.’
‘I’m not here to try anything on,’ she answered, without even bothering to seize her inspecting of my body for a moment and look me in the eye, as polite people do.
I was completely taken off guard.
‘But,’ I muttered again, weakly: ‘This one’s occupied.’
‘I can see that.’
Adrienne gave a nod to the unclasped bra that I was holding two-handedly in front of my bosom.
‘I don’t mean the bra.’
‘Nevertheless, it’s well occupied, the bra that is,’ she said, with another nod to my bosom, clumsily covered by my hands holding the bra. My breasts really bubbled upwards from me holding them like that.
‘Alors?’ she said, still looking at me through the mirror-like an unperturbed and utterly unperturbable French detective.
‘Quoi ‘alors’?’ I whispered.
‘Well, when I say ‘alors’, I mean that I didn’t follow you into this store, and consequently made a great effort to slip into your booth unseen, only to be thrown out by a blushing mademoiselle modeste. Alors, miss Bovary, show me your tits.’
‘What?’
I was suddenly quite aware that I was being a terrible conversationalist, parroting one-syllable long questions like a broken record, but honestly, I was so surprised… I felt like the French secret police, in the form of its prettiest agent, had arrested me and demanded that I strip down to my knickers.
‘I need to spell things out for you, don’t I?’ Adrienne said. ‘If you want me to help you pick out the best set to make that lucky boyfriend of yours go crazy – and that’s what I’m going to do whether you like it or not – you might as well get your initial timidity out of the way. Show me your tits and get over it. You’ve never been nude with some other girls before? Like when showering after gymnastics class or something? I go topless on the beach in front of all my friends – even the male ones – all the time. Nobody makes the tiniest fuss about it. And here you are, making a fuss. Show me your tits.’
Well, I suppose she had a point there. With us both looking at me in the mirror, I slowly took away the bra, baring my breasts.
‘Amai,’ she said, nonchalantly.
‘But if you want to help me pick out a set, isn’t it more important to see me with the bra on?’ I retorted. My cheeks had turned rather hot.
‘Don’t be brassy.’
She had stepped closer to me, so close she could almost rest her chin on my shoulder, and then I felt a slender hand slide over my belly and cup one of my breasts.
My throat dried in an instant and I closed my eyes to the sensation – no girl had ever touched me there like that. Her chin now did indeed graze my shoulder, and I felt her breath in my neck; she smelled like coffee and a light perfume. Her hand began playing with my breast, kneading it, making it bounce, feeling its weight. I opened my eyes to see her do it: it was getting me very excited. Now, for the first time since entering the booth, she smiled at me.
‘You like getting your tits fumbled by a girl?’
I nodded very slowly. Then she scissored my nipple between two of her fingers – so much slenderer than my boyfriend’s! – and squeezed.
I closed my eyes again and felt my lips part as I sighted inaudibly.
‘Bend over,’ she whispered in my ear. ‘So I can inspect your ass the way your boyfriend will inspect it.’
I opened my eyes and looked at her, at that very pretty face next to mine, Adrienne with her black froufrou and her undaunted grey eyes. She moved her hand to my upper back and softly pushed me, so delicately that I folded forward without protest. My hair fell in front of my face and I felt my boobs dangle. Then, I startled: in one quick motion, she had moved her thumb between my ass cheeks and had slid it downwards over my pussy towards my clit, where she pressed hard, making me veer forward – I had to hold out my hands against the mirror not to fall. Next thing, I heard the curtain flutter. I straightened myself, got my hair out of my face – but she had already slipped out, the curtain was still swaying.
I was all in a daze – she had touched my…!
It took me a little while to regain my composure, but when I did, I realised that I was in a very expensive store, and I touched the Lise Charmel-panties that I had fitted over my own. It was as I feared: not only my own knickers but the expensive ones I was trying on had also become wet with my fluids. Surely, I could not return them now. Since I could not, I pressed my fingertip into my clit for a bit. It sent warm shivers all through my belly, they even crawled upwards over my neck to the base of my skull. God, I was positively gagging for it now.
I am quite sure that I would have been able to orgasm in a minute or three, and I might have risked it too if the store manager hadn’t moved up to my booth at that moment and asked if everything were all right.
I moved my head outside the curtain and said: ‘Yes, I’m going to buy it.’
‘Magnifique,’ the woman said, with a cynicism in her voice that betrayed that she had seen Adrienne leave my booth.
‘Can I keep it on?’ I asked.
‘Naturellement.’
I felt so good in the outfit, that I preferred to keep wearing it. In fact, my plan at that stage was to go home as quickly as possible, drop myself down on the bed and then finger myself for an hour or so. And if I’d keep the set on, I’d be able to maintain my level of arousal during the bus ride home. I did, however, remove my own panties first, and then slid the Lise Charmel-ones back over my bare pussy, which felt great, so fresh and silky.
I paid by credit card and stepped outside, all dressed up underneath my dress and coat, all hot and bothered. The chilly September air teased my cheeks for how warm they were.
I looked at my phone: Alex had texted me back. Three smileys with hearts for eyes, one salivating smiley, and the message that he would not only buy me the set: he’d even pay me double just to make me wear it for him.
I couldn’t hold back a self-congratulatory smirk.
You’re in a meeting? I texted him.
This time he answered straight away. No more meetings today. Just daydreams from here on.
Another smirk twitched round my mouth: three guesses what those daydreams would be about… I wondered whether Alex would… he never had before.
Trying it on has made me awfully horny. You? I texted him, to incite him to maybe... maybe sent me…
Fuck, he replied.
And then, a minute or so later, it came: he sent me a dick pic! It was a picture of him sitting in his chair. I could see some of the drawers of his desk, and his trousers, and, of course, his cock: it was fully erect, covering most of the frame. Obviously, I recognised it well enough, but it was a strange sensation to see that hardened penis, so familiar to me in the flesh, appear on a screen like that. And I’d never had one sent to me before. It was exciting to know I was the cause of it, of him being so inappropriately engorged at his workplace.
I replied to his picture: Best not get too excited daydreaming. You know, sometimes dreams come through… Especially on days when there are no more meetings.