Sylvia’s Red DressI had bought a really nice, bright red dress to wear for a very fancy party—the kind of dress and the kind of party where I just couldn’t go braless. Not really an uptight group, but one that I’m very high on and where I really wanted to impress everyone with how lady-like I can be.
After paying an arm and a leg for the dress I realized my only red bra looked crappy under it and felt uncomfortably tight as well. So . . . begrudgingly, off I went to Nordstrom’s to buy a replacement.
I picked out a couple of cute bras and took them into the dressing room to try on. Neither fit or felt good, or looked all that good either, so I returned them to the salesgirl. When she asked what was wrong with them I replied that they just didn’t feel right even though they were the same size that I usually wear. She then asked when the last time I’d been fitted by a professional fitter and I said “never”. She told me that 90% of women wear the wrong size bra and there was a professional fitter on duty in town that day that could help me find the perfect fit. She picked up the intercom and before I could say no, an absolutely gorgeous woman showed up to help me.
She took me into a little room that had her catalogues and samples and offered me a seat. She asked what I was looking for, what color, style, price range, etc. She was about 40 years old and was wearing a loose white blouse unbuttoned just enough to show a tiny hint of lace on her bra, (a soft, flesh-colored number that ever-so-slightly let her nipples hint that they weren’t covered by padding.) She had a warm, outgoing personality that quickly put me totally at ease and I soon was confessing to her that I hardly ever wore a bra at all, didn’t think I really needed one, that I hated feeling constrained, didn’t like under-wires, etc, etc, etc, but that my new dress dictated a need for modesty and that’s why I was there.
She was so friendly and open that I even found myself telling her how much I love feeling my breasts being loose and free and that I enjoy people noticing when I go braless. She smiled and admitted that she too, only wore one when she was working and that she thought slightly visible nipples were about the sexiest thing going. She caught me looking down at her breasts and we grinned and I realized we were both getting a little turned on. At least I knew that I was.
She stood up and suggested we take some measurements to find out exactly what would work the best for me. She grabbed a measuring tape and casually mentioned that if I didn’t mind it would be more accurate if I took off my sweater. I was wearing a heavy bulky knit sweater with only a delicate little silk camisole under it. I had my back to her and as I started to pull the sweater up I realized the camisole was sliding up with it, too. I took a deep breath and deliberately let it come over my head along with the sweater. As casually as I could I dropped them both on the chair and turned toward her, totally naked from the waist up. She looked a little shocked at first, then recovered and looking quite pleased, smiled sweetly at me.
I could see her cheeks had begun to flush slightly as she stared at my breasts and I could feel mine growing warm as well. She stepped toward me, slipped the tape around my back and drew it snug, her fingers lightly brushing the undersides of my breasts. As she lifted the tape up to measure the fullest part I looked down and could see that her fingers were trembling ever so slightly. By then my nipples were very hard and protruding so much I giggled and said she was going to get a false reading if she didn’t pull it tight enough to squeeze them down a bit.
She playfully tugged the tape more snugly a couple of times, watching my nipples pop right back out.
“Must be a cool draft hitting you, she laughed.”
“I don’t think so,” I smiled, “unless it’s hitting you, too.”
She looked down at herself and blushed. Her nipples had puckered up enough to be quite obvious through her blouse. I reached out and playfully brushed the backs of my fingers over them. I heard the sharp intake of her breath, but the way she leaned slightly into my fingers told me that she had been okay with my touching her and was definitely turned on too. She was still holding the tape against my breasts, her hands seemingly frozen as I continued to lightly tease her nipples. As she watched my fingers I reached up and very slowly and deliberately began unbuttoning her blouse. I pulled it open and slipped my hands inside the cups of her bra to her now rock-hard nipples. I pinched them gently, rolling them back and forth between my thumbs and forefingers and pulling them toward me. She responded by returning the favor to mine as both of our breathing became more and more ragged. I reached up with one hand and pulled her head down toward me and watched as she greedily clamped her mouth on one of my nipples, sucking it hungrily between her lips.
“God, your breasts are wonderful,” she whispered when she came up for air. “I could love them all day.”
“Let me, too,” I responded and I started kissing my way down her cleavage. She quickly reached back to unhook her bra and feed her breast out to me with her hands. I kissed and nibbled, licked and sucked, back and forth, forth and back between both breasts for what seemed like an eternity. I loved how they felt against my tongue, how they blossomed and pulsed, how good she smelled and how big her nipples had become. It was such a turn-on to realize that she was loving it as much as I was.
I don’t know which of us reached for the other’s pussy first but I know I came almost immediately when she started rubbing me through my pants. As soon as I recovered a bit from my orgasm I pushed my hand under her waist band and down into her hot cunt. She was shaved as smooth as a baby and my fingers slipped easily into her and she cried out, coming with a shudder. She pulled my hand out and lifted it to her mouth and sucked her own juices off my fingers, then reached over and kissed me, slipping her tongue deeply into my mouth. I could taste her pussy on her tongue and sucked it for a long, delicious minute.
Suddenly, becoming worried about how long we’d been in the fitting room we pulled away from each other and dressed quickly and she ushered me toward the door. She grabbed a bright red bra on the way out and stuffed it into my handbag, saying it was her treat and assuring me it would fit perfectly. The salesgirl was busy with another customer so we were able to slip out without further embarrassment and she walked me to the escalator. She said goodbye and winked, then whispered, “Thanks,” and handed me a business card as I stepped on the escalator and began to ride down and out of her sight.
When I got home I tried the bra on and it did fit well and looked perfect under my new dress. I wore it to the party, and even though my nipples played their usual naughty little tricks all night its light padding kept me ladylike. I even got a couple of compliments on how sophisticated I looked in it.
If they only knew the whole story!