The invitation, part 2

 

It was getting late and the distance between Marks and Spencer and Topshop was over a mile.  Given that Sally had, for some reason, absolutely insisted that the rest of Jack's costume had to be bought there, they had to hurry.

 

They walked quickly East along Oxford Street, dodging the seemingly endless hordes of tourists and evening shoppers but Jack was all but oblivious to what was going on around him.  Since leaving the warmth of M&S for the early March evening chill he had been unable to think about anything but the new and wonderful sensations that he was feeling, seemingly all over his body.  He could feel the slight constriction around his chest and back caused by the white satin and lace trim bra.  He quickly checked to see that his fleece jacket was zipped up, suddenly conscious that he had, or at least appeared to have, boobs.

 

Further down he could feel the constrains of the suspender belt around his trim waist and the straps leading down from the wispy garment to the lace top stockings than encased his legs.  The sensation was made more acute by their newly hairless state.  But the biggest sensation that he could feel, and the one which was most overcoming by far, was the sensation around his hips, bum and genitals of the satin and lace knickers that his girlfriend had selected for him and that he had put on not 15 minutes previously in the shop that they were now leaving behind.  The soft yet firm grip of the satin around his body would have been distracting enough at the best of times but Sally's insistence that he must be hairless all over had exposed his cock and scrotum to this intimate caress for the first time and the speed of their progress down the crowded street was doing nothing to relieve these new and overpowering sensations -- quite the reverse.  Jack could feel every twitch of his cock against the satin and been though he had ejaculated not 20 minutes ago he could feel his pre-cum starting to leak from his penis.

 

Finally, after what seemed to Jack an eternity, they arrived at their destination.  A large clothing shop right on Oxford Circus that catered mainly for young women.  Through the broad doors and plate glass of the windows Jack could see what seemed like hordes of teenage girls excitedly chattering as they rummaged around the racks and rails in the store.  Sally, seeming to already know what she was looking for and headed straight towards the section entitled `going out'.

 

"Here we are," she said.  "This will look absolutely perfect on you."  She had stopped in front of a rail containing what Jack simply saw as a black cocktail dress but which the tag on the end of the rail proclaimed to be `an elastic waist shift dress -- available in Tall,' whatever the hell any of that meant. 

 

"Every girl needs a little black dress darling," Sally said with a giggle, and took the first one down from the rail. 

 

"Do you need any help guys?" a voice came from behind them.

 

"Yes, do you have this in a 14 please?" Sally asked the sales assistant.

 

"We do, yes, but I'm guessing you are no more than an 8 -- 10 at most.  Are you sure you want a 14?" the girl asked.

 

"Oh, it's not for me -- it's for my boyfriend," Sally explained.

 

Jack was horrified at this disclosure.  "Err, yeah, we're going to a party you see and..." But the girl interrupted him.  "There's really no need to explain to me.  Are you sure you're a 14?" she asked.

 

"Not a clue," he replied.

 

"OK, that's no problem.  Can you take your jacket off for me please?" she said, removing a tape measure from where it had hung suspended from her belt loops.  Jack began to comply but then remembered the bra stuffed with his socks.  If he took off his jacket the girl would immediately see that it appeared as though he had tits.  The decision was made for him as Sally reached over and suddenly pulled down the zip.  He cast his eyes down in shame as she pushed the coat from his shoulders.

 

"Here we go, the girl said as she began to expertly take measurements.  Jack realised that she had measured him across the fake tits as part of the process. "Good choice of size," she said.  "A B-cup.  Anything bigger wouldn't have looked so good.  OK, that's 36B-26-28.  Not a bad shape!" she smiled.  "I think you're right -- a 14 will work best but you'll need him to try it on because he doesn't have much of a waist and the 16 might be a better bet.  Here you go," she said, handing Jack the appropriate size.  "Is it just the dress?"

 

"No," said Sally.  "We'll need some shoes as well."

 

"No problem," said the girl.  "They are right through here.  What sort of thing did you have in mind?" 

 

"I think a suede court shoe with a medium heel.  Closed toe.  What do you

think?" Sally asked her.

 

"Perfect!" she replied.  "We've just got a new style in that you will love. Would you like to see it?

 

"Oh yes please," Sally replied.

 

Jack was dragged into the shoe department while holding the dress by its hanger.  They stopped in front a style which was, according to the label a `glam plain heeled court shoe -- available in larger sizes.'

 

"Oh these are just perfect," exclaimed Sally as she picked up a shoe to examine it.  "What size are you sweetheart?" 

 

"Eight," Jack sullenly replied.

 

"OK," the girl said.  "That's a 42.  Just a moment."  And with that she disappeared through a door marked `staff only'.

 

"What do you mean `try it on'," Jack hissed after she had gone. "I can't try clothes on in a women's shop.  There isn't going to be a men's changing room here!" he protested.

 

"Don't worry darling.  The changing room here has cubicles.  People will just think that you are going to help me with the dress.  Or fuck me."  She giggled.  "I've always wanted to be fucked in a shop changing room.  Bit like joining the mile high club or doing it at school, or something.  Maybe some other time though!"  She smiled at him.

 

The assistant returned clutching a box bearing a picture of the shoes.  "Take a seat," she said, indicating the cushioned benches where clearly customers were intended to try out their new shoes. "You'll need to take your shoes and ... oh, I see you've come prepared.  How very sensible."  She had seen the stockings as the bottom of Jack's jeans had ridden up,. Exposing an inch or two of ankle between the top of the boot and the bottom of his jeans.  Jack reddened.

 

"I'm not sure white will go with this outfit though," she said.

 

Sally stepped in.  "No, of course.  We have some black stockings, but I don't want him to get them dirty so we are saving them."

 

"Very sensible.  OK, off with the boots."

 

Jack leaned down and pulled the laces of his boots.  He quickly slid them off, it being much easier with stockings on than with the thick woollen socks he usually wore.  This socks that were now doing service as his breasts.  His blushing deepened.

 

The girl offered up the first shoe to his foot, slid it on and returned Jack's foot to the ground.  She repeated the process with the other foot.  The heel wasn't particularly tall -- no more than 2 inches -- but the sensation of having his heels so far above his toes was completely alien to Jack.

 

"Try and stand in them," the girl said.  "I need to check the size."

 

Jack could feel the warmth of his embarrassment extend all over his face and down his neck.  He wondered if he could blush any more deeply, or would blood vessels start to explode.  Gingerly, he stood up, holding onto Sally's arm as he did so until he was standing between the two women.  Standing there.  In the middle of a shop in Central London.  Wearing high heels.  With fake breasts.  Wearing a satin lingerie set.  And all his body hair had been shaved off.  What on earth was he doing?

 

Sally seemed to sense his sudden change of mood.  She watched as the sales

assistant checked for length and width fitting, smiling when she pronounced them to be a perfect fit.

 

"Thanks so much for all your help," she said to the girl.  "You have been great.  Sweetie?  Would you like to take them off now?" she asked.

 

Jack sat down hurriedly and all but tore the shoes from his feet.  A few yards away four schoolgirls -- no more than 14 or 15 -- watched him as he took the shoes off and giggled behind their hands.  Jack quickly replaced his boots and laced them securely, still conscious of the lack of socks and the inadequacy of the stockings as a substitute.

 

"You are quite welcome," he heard the girl say to Sally.  "The changing rooms are at the back of the store.  Just call me if there is anything else I can do."

 

"You've been really great -- thanks again," Sally replied.  "Come on sweetheart."

 

Sally picked up the shoes and returned them to their box.  Tucking it under her arm, she led the way to the changing rooms and led him inside, this time picking a cubicle furthest from the door and purposefully striding into it.  Jack was profoundly grateful that, this time, there was no sentry at the entrance that he had to explain his way past and he hurried into the cubicle as quickly as he could, pulling the door closed behind him.  Immediately Sally took charge of him.  She hung his coat which she had been carrying since the sales assistant had made him take it off a few minutes previously on a hook and put the shoe box down on the floor.

 

"Take your jumper off darling," she said.  Jack complied, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by what was going on.  He stood numbly in the middle of the cubicle as he felt her unsnap his belt and jeans and pull down his zip.  She bent over and pulled open the laces on his boots again and lifted each foot to allow the boots to drop away.  Finally she pushed his jeans down his thighs and they slithered across the nylon of his stockings to land in a puddle at his feet.  He stepped out of them listlessly and she pushed them into the corner of the cubicle out of the way.

 

"OK," she said, removing the dress from its hanger.  "Arms up."

 

As Jack complied with her request and raised his arms above his head he heard Sally unzip the back of the dress.  He watched as she gathered up the material and the reached up to offer the neck opening to his head.  There was a pause as she made sure that the arm openings were lined up correctly before she let go, allowing the dress to fall past Jack's face and down his body.

 

Sally tugged at the hem a couple of times to ensure that the dress was sitting properly before edging behind him and pulling up the zip.  He felt her hands on his shoulders as she turned him around towards the mirror. 

 

"Look," she said.

 

Jack looked.  There in the mirror before him was someone he almost didn't

recognise.  Sure, the face was the same, but from the neck down there stood

there a woman in a black cocktail dress.  The white stockings looked a little odd against the black of the dress, but overall he was enchanted by the image in front of him.  Jack smiled.

 

"Do you like it darling?" he heard Sally ask.

 

"Yes.  I do," he replied.

 

"Thank you so much for doing this," she said.  "I am really proud of you.  I love you." And as Jack started to say `I love you too' Sally planted a passionate kiss on his mouth.

 

When she came up for air, Sally took a step back and looked him over.  "Shame about the waist, but in all other respects you look perfect!" she exclaimed.  "I am so delighted that you went along with this.  Do a little twirl."

 

Jack turned this way and that, admiring the sight of the dress swishing around his legs.  The combined effects of the kiss from his perfect and loving girlfriend, the visual impact of seeing himself in a cocktail dress and the feeling as it rubbed against his nylon clad legs and ongoing tactile stimulation from the satin lingerie was beginning to have the predictable effect on Jack.  Once again he felt his cock begin to swell and to shift position in the satin knickers that he was wearing.  He tried to think of something to take his mind off it and to calm his overwrought penis, but to no avail.  All he could think about was the here and now.  The dress and the underwear.  The stockings.  And Sally, and how much he loved her.

 

As she turned him this way and that looking him over and admiring her handiwork, his erection became very apparent though the thin material of his knickers and the dress.  Sally smiled and reached up to stoke his cheek.

 

"Oh dear, can't you control it darling?  It's really spoiling the outline of your dress and it makes it difficult to see the overall effect so to speak," laughed Sally.  "Poor you."  As she spoke her hand dropped from her cheek and she placed it over the bulge in the front of Jack's dress, cupping his erection within the satin panties.  She rubbed ever so gently.  Jack gasped.

 

"That's really not helping sweetheart," he said.

 

"Poor thing.  We can't sort you out again the way we did in M&S because we'll make a mess and I don't have any tissues to clean up with.  It wouldn't be fair to the poor soul that has to use the cubicle next.  So what can we do?  Hmm?"

 

Her hand rubbed gently up and down the outline of his shaft and Jack could feel his pre-cum leaking out into the satin.

 

"You seem to be getting more excited," Sally said.  "I think you want to cum in your knickers, don't you?" she asked.

 

"God, no, don't be silly!" he replied.

 

"What's silly about it?  After all, you've cum in my knickers often enough, haven't you?"  Jack's blood ran cold.  "Don't deny it sweetheart, I know all about it!"

 

"What?  I don't..." Jack began, but Sally cut him off.

 

"Oh come on honey.  I figured it out ages ago.  I noticed that sometimes knickers that I put in the laundry basked somehow managed to disappear for a couple of days or mysteriously find their way from the bottom of the basket to the top."  She rubbed his throbbing cock a little harder, causing the satin to rub against the tip of his throbbing organ.  "Usually this seems to happen on Thursdays when I am out with the girls or on Tuesdays when I have netball practice.   And you know something else strange?  Sometimes, even though I know I had done a big goo in them, they seemed to be much cleaner than they should have been.  Isn't that weird?  Where did my goo go sweetheart?  What happened to it?"

 

Jack felt Sally run her nails along the length of his cock through the two

layers of material.

 

"And other times, my knickers seem to end up right at the bottom of the basket, but get all damp.  And when I sniff them, it smells of mown grass.  What is damp and smells of mown grass honey?  I can't think!"  Sally continued to gently rub Jack's swollen cock through the dress and the knickers.

 

"Do you lick my knickers Jack?  Is that how they somehow get clean even before they get to the washing machine?  Do you like the taste of my knickers?  Do you like to taste the goo from the?  I know you love to go down on me, but is that why you lick my knickers when I'm out?  Do you miss me?"  Her stroking continued.  "And then, just sometimes, you cum in them, don't you.  You cum in my knickers and then hide them in the bottom of the basket so I won't find out.  Do you put them on?  Or do you just hold them in front of you"  She was whispering in his ear while she continued to rub the bulge in the front of his dress.  "I think you put them on because some of them have seemed to get baggy all of a sudden."

 

"I, I only do it..." he started again, but again she interrupted.

 

"Shhhh, sweetheart.  It's OK,  don't mind.  In fact when I figured it out it got me quite hot.  I had to masturbate.  You like to watch me masturbating, don't you?  Is that what you think about as you come in them?  Me masturbating?"

 

Jack's head was back now and he knew that he couldn't hold on much longer.  The shock of having his secret exposed had come close to bringing him back under control, but the whispering in his ear and the sensation of the dress rubbing across his satin enclosed cock was definitely getting through to him.

 

"Do you think about me playing with myself when you're doing it?  Do you think about me rubbing my clitty?  I bet you do." and with that Sally reached into her jeans with her left hand, pushing the hand deep into her knickers and towards her pussy.  She rubbed herself quickly and inserted a slim finger into her wet pussy.  She withdrew the hand.  "Is this what you think about? she asked and with that she raised her damp left hand to his upper lip and rubbed the moist digit along the bottom of his nose.  All the while she continued the steady, gentle friction of her right hand against his cock through the layers.

 

Her scent hit Jack like a wave.  She had guessed correctly that he was obsessed with her scent, hence his attachment to her underwear.  As he inhaled deeply, savouring the delicious aroma and suddenly his orgasm overwhelmed him.  He felt it pulse from the base of his spine to the tip of his cock, and he felt the contractions start deep within his pelvis.  Trying desperately not to cry out, he held his breath as he felt his legs and back tighten, his head fly back and the cum start to jet from the tip of his cock into the satin of the knickers.  Four, five, six spurts followed the first into the satin of the garment until finally he was spent and slumped against his wonderful, beloved girlfriend.

 

After a few seconds cuddling her beloved boyfriend Sally stood him up.  "Now quickly -- get the dress off before the cum soaks into it and it's ruined.  Come on."

 

She bent down and started to gather the black cocktail dress from the hem, being careful to hold it away from the lump of his quickly softening penis and the cum soaked mess that was the front of the white lace and satin panties.  "Arms up," she said as she approached his armpits, exposing the pretty satin and lace bra.

 

As the dress was lifted carefully over his head, Jack was left standing in just his lingerie facing the full length mirror.  His cum had soaked into the white satin of his knickers, turning them a darker colour and Jack could feel the cooling effect of the rapidly chilling liquid.

 

"I'd better take this stuff off then.  Give me my boxers, would you please?"

 

"Whatever for, darling?" Sally replied.  "I think you should keep them on until we get home.  It's all so much nicer than boring old boxer shorts!" 

 

"But honey, they are soaked in cum!" Jack protested.

 

"I know darling.  Isn't it exciting?  Just think how many times I have had to walk around London or sit on the Tube or be in a lecture at college or shopping in the supermarket or, "she laughed, " at my mum's house for Sunday lunch with my knickers soaked with your cum and my wetness.  I think it's time you had an insight into what it's like to be a girl, and we can start with cum soaked knickers!"  She laughed again and bent down to pick up his jeans.  "Here you go, sweetheart.  Don't worry -- you're going to love it.  Have I ever complained about having wet knickers?  No, because the feeling reminds me of you and reminds me of us fucking.  I like that, and I think you will too.  Now put these on before you get cold."

 

She handed him the jeans and he reluctantly pulled them on, feeling the stain of his cum continue to spread across the knickers and start to soak into the material of his jeans.

