Strapless! (1)

A story of lesbian awakening and sapphic seduction

{This post is very definitely NSFW; it is also entirely unsuitable material if you’re underage in your locality; only read on if you’re an adult and you like explicitly sexy stories.}

[Fantasy, FF, seduction, mild age gap, consensual sex. All ‘participants’ are adult, imaginary, and entirely fictional - any resemblance to a real person is sheer coincidence.]

This story was inspired by the photo which serve as an illustration - the woman, with her big brown eyes, the pink strapless top which makes her breasts so ‘accessible’, and the fitting room setting with mirrors all round, sparked my imagination, and this is the resulting fantasy.

The first thing I noticed about her was how big her breasts were; though actually, big didn’t even begin to do them justice; huge might be getting there; gargantuan seemed like an altogether more fitting word. She was wearing very simple clothes - from the ground up, black and white Converse shoes, blue jeans - which didn’t really flatter her ‘fuller’ figure - and a soft white cotton blouse which was open just enough to show the beginnings of what was almost certainly the Grand Canyon of cleavages. Her hair was mousy brown, wavy, swept back and hanging below her shoulders; her softly rounded, lightly made-up, face was quite pretty, with full lips and large brown eyes.

She was strolling through the shop, browsing, those huge boobs swaying - her bra struggling manfully to keep them under control and only partly succeeding. Clothes shopping seemed to be a very sensual, tactile, experience for her - fingers trailing along the racks; occasionally stopping to feel something more deliberately; the things she stopped for all seemed to have particularly smooth and silky, or soft, textures. As I watched her I realised that there was one item she circled back to several times. It was a pale pink satiny strapless top, elasticated and designed to be worn ‘off-the-shoulder’. I found myself wondering whether she would be able to ‘carry it off’, or would her boobs prove to be too big or saggy?

It was fortunate that, despite it being Saturday, the shop was quiet, because I was able to watch her without interruption. I guessed that she was at least ten years older than me, so about thirty, and definitely in her womanly prime. She saw me looking, and smiled warmly, catching my eye just before I could look away.

Rumbled!

I hoped she didn’t realise that watching her had caused my pussy to begin to warm, and faint hints of moisture begin to gather in its folds; I could feel my lips swelling slightly, and beginning to slip smoothly against each other as I moved. I felt myself colour as she took the garment off the rail and, looking straight at me with a very knowing look, made her way across the shop-floor towards me.

I was sure, now, that she knew exactly the effect she was having.

“Hello Lily,” she said, snatching a glance at my name-tag, “I’m Penny, and I’d like a little bit of help please.”

“Of course Madam. Sorry… I mean Penny.” I stammered, thrown completely off my stride by the closeness of this picture of voluptuous femininity. “How may I be of service?”

“I should like some help trying this on, and an opinion, please.”

“Certainly Madam… Penny.”

“Madam Penny - that has a certain ring to it.” she smiled, slightly cheekily. I swallowed hard; this wasn’t going at all the way I had imagined. Determined to regain the initiative, I fished out my keys and turned toward the fitting rooms.

“This way!” I said, brightly.

As I unlocked the door, I felt her close behind me.

“I’ll wait out here - let me know when you’re decent and I’ll come in.”

“That wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but…”

“It’s company policy.” I said, perhaps too tartly, then, more softly, “Sorry, it’s just that we aren’t supposed to go in the fitting rooms with customers - for our safety, and yours.”

She blanched slightly and went inside, brushing lightly against me as she passed me; her touch, even if it was inadvertent, gave me goosebumps. She muttered, sotto voce, as she entered the room…

“I thought the customer was always right.” and then, more loudly, “Anyway, wait there, I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

The door shut, and I stood there, obediently; wondering why I seemed so inclined to obey her unquestioningly, and also wondering at my sudden ‘interest’ in another woman. I’d always thought of myself as ‘strictly’ straight. Or maybe, now that I thought about it, it was just that I had just told myself I was straight. All my relationships, none of which had been great, had been with boys (and I was trying to recover from a break-up right then), but actually, there was something undeniably attractive about women too… Especially voluptuous, very feminine, ones - like Penny. The mere thought of helping her choose clothing was making me wet!

Through my reverie I became aware, dimly, of my name being called.

“Lily…

Lily! …

LILY!”

“Sorry Madam Penny, I was miles away.”

She tutted audibly as she opened the door; she leaned around it and beckoned me in; closing the door behind me and smiling.

“How can I help?”

“Why don’t you sit on the chair, and give me your opinion?”

She had on the satiny pink off-the-shoulder strapless top - which she was definitely filling with her huge boobs. I could see different views around her, in the mirrors. Her closeness was intoxicating - the fitting room wasn’t small by the standards of such things, but it certainly wasn’t spacious. I could smell her - her perfume, strong and sweetly flowery - but also something else, faintly; something which went straight to my core. This, I thought, was a horny lady. Almost without noticing, I licked my lips. There was something very sensuous about being this close to such an attractive stranger. Actually, maybe it was time to admit that I was attracted to women as well as men.

She still had her bra on, as evidenced by the straps over her shoulders.

“I want to know whether this would be okay braless, or whether I’d be better with some sort of strapless bra underneath too.”

With that, and to my surprise, she shrugged her shoulders and then her arms out of the top, which sagged somewhat, showing off the upper slopes of her breasts and deep, deep, cleavage. My eyes widened at the sight of so much boob-flesh, so close. They looked so smooth, so soft; I wanted to reach out and touch them, but just managed to resist. She saw me looking, and smiled as she put her hands through the bra straps and let them drop, her breasts dropping further once the straps were no longer supporting them. She put her arms back into the puffed sleeves of the top and adjusted it. She looked at herself in the mirrors and tutted, murmuring,

“Drat, I thought I’d be able to tell without taking my bra off completely. Could you be a real sweetie please, and undo the clasp?”

My breath caught, and I felt myself colour; the whole situation was, despite her ‘matter-of-fact’ manner, highly charged with sexual tension - at least that was how it felt to me; she, on the other hand, seemed unaffected - or else she felt it but was giving nothing away. She turned her back to me - seated, I was on a level with her big, round, jeans-clad arse. Honestly, I was all I could do not to reach out and stroke it. She may have been slightly overweight, but it was all in just the right places - her arse was incredibly sexy, even wearing blue jeans.

Instead I reached up as requested and, with shaking fingers, found the clasp of her bra. I fumbled with it, through the cloth… I was fine fastening and unfastening my own, even around the back, but this was a new experience, and it wasn’t going well.

“Why so nervous? I don’t bite!”

“Sorry,” I said, feeling myself redden until my face probably looked like a beetroot, “this is completely new to me.”

“I’m sorry too,” she said, “I thought that, because you were so clearly checking me out, that you’d be used to encounters like this. Just relax, and take your time. I’m just a girly, like you, with exactly the same bits. Let me help you a little.”

She lifted the top from either side, until the back raised far enough that I could see the clasp. No wonder I’d struggled - it had four hook and eye fastenings. I went back in for another go. Her skin felt incredible - warm, soft, and incredibly smooth. Somehow, I have no idea why, I hadn’t expected her skin to feel like mine. I caught my breath; I could feel my heart pounding in my chest; my nipples were like bullets; and my pussy was soaking wet, so much so that I was sure my panties must have been completely transparent by now. This time I managed to undo it.

Immediately, she turned back to face me, snuck a hand up under the top, and pulled out her bra, which almost made her massive breasts topple out of the top. She flung an arm over them, to stop the otherwise inevitable dénouement, brandished the bra and, with a cheeky smile, exclaimed a triumphant

‘TADA!!”

She dropped the huge, silky, lacy, garment in my lap. I don’t know what possessed me, but I grabbed it, and buried my face in it, feeling her warmth and the smell of her skin on it. After a moment I realised what I’d done, and peeped up at her over it. She laughed.

“I take it you like that?”

I nodded dumbly, aware that I was still bright crimson from embarrassment and, I had to admit, arousal. By now it wouldn’t have taken much more than a single stroke of my folds to make me unravel completely.

She lowered her arm a bit, revealing acres of pale pink boob-flesh. My eyes must have almost popped out of my head. My boobs were by no means small, but these were humongous. If mine were the Alps, hers were the Himalayas.

“Do you like my breasts?” she said, huskily.

I nodded again, not trusting myself to speak. She stepped towards me, so that my vision was almost entirely filled with her immense cleavage. Instinctively, reflexively, my head moved back.

THUD! It hit the wall behind me.

“Ouch!” I rubbed the back of my head.

It hurt a little, but probably bruised my ego more. I felt my eyes well up.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you..”

“It’s okay.” I said, continuing to rub my head with my hand. “I’m just… Er…”

“Not used to anyone, least of all a woman, coming on so strong.” She finished my sentence for me, and I nodded lamely.

“Something like that, certainly.”

I gulped.

“It’s okay. You can say it.”

I got the feeling I didn’t need to; I felt sure she knew just what I was going to say; but I started anyway, and it all came out with a rush.

“I’m a straight girl - I know I am, or so I tell myself. If I’m honest, I’ve always checked out other girls - but don’t we all, even if it’s just to compare? At least, that’s what I always tried to tell myself I was doing, but if I’d ever dared admit it, it was always something just a bit more than that. You…

Well, you look incredible, and from the moment you walked in, I couldn’t drag my eyes away from you. You’re so gorgeous and I want… I need… Oh fuck.”

I stumbled over my words. I was a bit shocked; firstly that this (whatever this was) was happening; secondly that I was baring my soul to a perfect stranger.

She looked at me, sympathy and wisdom in her eyes, and nodded, gently.

“I think I know just how you’re feeling. Admitting, finally, to another person - actually, to this person in particular - what you’ve barely even acknowledged to yourself, is incredibly scary - and when you had had the thought, you’d always ‘suppressed’ it as something you didn’t even dare to contemplate. I get it. Ten years ago, when I was probably about your age, I was where you are now.

If I might be so bold: you want to fuck me, and yet you’ve been conditioned to believe that it’s ‘wrong’ on all sorts of levels - to the extent that you actually don’t question the idea that it is ‘wrong’. Let me tell you this for free: you can’t deny the feelings. Once they awaken, as I think they have with you, they’re only going to get stronger… You can try to hide from who you are, but ultimately, it doesn’t work. If you try to stop it, you’ll practically destroy yourself; ask me how I know! And it’s not wrong to have feelings for other women - for some of us it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

I nodded, tears now streaming down my face; tears of relief at finally ‘owning’ it; tears of sheer emotional release; tears of grief at realising I really wasn’t the ‘good girl’ I’d always imagined everyone thought I should be.

She took me by the hand, drew me to my feet, and enveloped me in a massive, squishy, hug. I buried my face in the angle of her neck and just sobbed.

“Oh, sweetie. You’re okay. It’s a lot though, I know. You’re still you… In fact, now you can be even more you than you were before. Those who really love you will accept you as you are; those who can’t, don’t, or won’t, aren’t people you need in your life anyway - take it from me.”

She was gently stroking my hair, and holding me close, and I felt so safe, so loved, by this total stranger that it didn’t take very long before I began to feel rather better, and then embarrassed that my life had exploded, messily, in the arms of someone I’d never even set eyes on before.

“I’d better… I need to, um… Go and talk to my boss - she’s going to think I’m skiving off work.”

“No, no, you stay here - I’ll go and talk to your boss - I can fix this, if there’s anything needing to be fixed - after all, it’s largely my fault!”

And, with that, she was gone, pulling the door closed behind her with a definite ‘click’; it felt rather final somehow. I saw myself in the mirrors. I was a bit of a mess - my makeup, in particular, had run badly. I did my best to clean myself up with a tissue - it wasn’t great, but I looked slightly better.

In a few minutes the door opened again, and in bustled Penny.

“Right, I’ve sorted that. Aliçon, your manager, wasn’t happy to begin with, but I sweet-talked her - or something like that. You aren’t about to get sacked, and she says that we should take as much time as you need to get your head straight. As I said to her, if we get this straight, you’ll be a better employee anyway!”

“Thank you so much.” I felt my eyes begin to well up again.

“No, don’t start crying again - it’s all fine. Let’s get your face cleaned up, and make-up reapplied and then you’ll feel better.”

She was clearly a lady who travelled equipped for all eventualities - she had wipes in her huge shoulder-bag, along with some basic make-up items. She sat me down, knelt at my feet, and went to work. In no time at all, my face in the reflection in the myriad mirrors looked much, much, better.

“You know,” she said, appreciatively, “you really do have the prettiest eyes - in the prettiest face!”

She put her hands on my shoulders, looked me right in the eyes, leaned in, and kissed me, full on the lips. It felt amazing - her warm, softly full, lips mashing into mine. She pulled back, and looked at me again.

“Are you okay? Was that okay?” the concern evident in her voice.

“Please! I need… I want…”

“Yes?” she enquired gently. “Just say it - you’ll feel better if you do!”

I hesitated a few moments, trying to pluck up my courage. I looked at her. She was so gorgeous, her big brown eyes looking straight into mine. Suddenly, my mind was made up - I might never get the chance again, so it was now or never. I drew in a big breath, and then almost squeaked,

“Fuck me… Please?”

“I thought you’d never ask! And yes, gladly - nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

And with that, she leaned in towards me and kissed me on the lips again. This time though, she didn’t pull away, and I felt her lips open, and her tongue begin, gently, to seek a way into my mouth. I opened to her, and almost before I knew it, we were in a deep, deep, embrace, arms around each other, lips mashed together, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. The effect was almost instant - I felt my nipples begin to peak, and my cunt begin to swell and moisten again. I squirmed on the seat slightly, and felt my breath catch as the sensation in my pussy, of my lips slipping against each other, was sooo strong.

Her huge, incredibly soft, boobs had moulded themselves around my slightly smaller, much firmer, ones. I could feel her nipples, boring into my tits, as presumably she could feel mine. This was a new sensation too… Incredibly exciting. This was, I thought, just what I had always wanted, but never admitted - the feel of another woman’s soft, smoothly rounded, body pressed against mine.

She broke the kiss, but only so that she could kiss her way gently, softly, to my ear; she flicked, licked, and finally sucked my earlobe, and then carried on down my neck. The sensations were so intense I almost swooned. She seemed to know exactly where to touch me, and how. My thought, before I surrendered my whole self to the moment, was that of course she would know, because she was a woman too.

I could feel her hands around my back; they had ceased stroking and suddenly, deftly, even through my blouse, they undid the clasp of my bra. She reached down and pulled my blouse free of the waistband of my leggings. She stopped, and moved back slightly, looking concerned.

“Is this okay? Not too fast?”

I nodded, and shook my head, and then, to emphasise that yes, it was fine, and please get on with it, peeled my blouse and bra up over my head and off, leaving myself topless. My nakedness appearing in all the mirrors was so sudden that I shocked myself, and covered my big, round, bouncy, young breasts with my arms as I felt my face redden.

Then I laughed.

“How ridiculous am I?” I said, and cupped my breasts like a quarter cup bra, offering them to her. She stroked my burgeoning nipples with her fingertips, before leaning down, taking one in her mouth and sucking, her tongue flicking over its tip. Instinctively my hand went around her head and cradled her to me, as if she was a nursing infant.

“Fuck! That feels sooo gooood.” I groaned. Her hand was stroking my other boob, squeezing it gently, feeling its firm roundness, and rolling the nipple with thumb and forefinger, which made my hips roll uncontrollably. My knickers were like a wet rag by now, and I felt sure there must be a damp patch on the seat. She switched nipples, and began to give the same treatment to the opposite nipple - except that now the one in her fingers was wet and slippery with her saliva - she teased it, wetly.

My head was back, resting against the wall, as I luxuriated in the sensations of having someone make love to my breasts so gently. Suddenly, she stopped, and stood up. My eyes followed her, watching her braless breasts surge about inside the strapless top, and seeing the look of sheer lust on her face. She stood over me, smiled coquettishly, caught the elasticated top hem of the garment and simply pulled it down over her breasts, revealing cleavage first of all, apparently infinitely deep, and then the huge swell of her breasts; her pinky-brown areolae appeared next, crinkled with her arousal; the elastic caught, momentarily, on her acorn-sized nipples, dragging them down before they sprang free and the garment was beneath her enormous swaying boobs. They were simply enormous, and soft, and round, and jiggly, and scrumptious. She lifted them in her arms, squeezing them together and upward, the bounteous flesh flowing over her arms and threatening to escape.

My eyes must have been popping out of my head.

“I’ll say it again: do you like my breasts?” Once more in that husky, sexy, voice.

I swallowed and nodded, momentarily struck dumb by the awesome sight, before finding my voice again,

“They’re absolutely amazing. I’ve never seen anything like them before. May I…?”

“Absolutely! It’s their turn - they’re feeling really left out!”

With that she stepped closer to me, reached out her hands and pulled my head into her bosom. Surrounded by such soft, warm, breast-flesh, encased in cleavage, I became like a woman possessed; moaning as I licked and sucked and nuzzled her boobs, my hands failing, utterly, to grasp so much flesh as my hands sank into her soft bosom; playing with her turgid nipples, revelling in the contrast between their hardness and the almost unbelievable softness of the rest of her breasts. My world had shrunk to become nothing but titty. My cunt was soaked, and beginning to clench, the pleasure of being drowned in breast-flesh almost too much to be borne.

I eased myself, somewhat reluctantly, out of the tightness of her grasp, with but one aim in mind… The only thing I was capable of thinking of.

Must.

Suck.

Her.

Nipple.

I latched on, and sucked hard, whilst squeezing the other nipple between finger and thumb.

She cried out.

My free hand cupped my pussy - fuck - my juices had soaked right through my panties and my leggings. As I cupped it, and squeezed, it was more than my nervous system could take, and my orgasm exploded, its white heat surging through me, undoing me completely and turning me into a spasming, mewling, creature of pure pleasure.

As I came down from my orgasmic high, I realised that she too had one hand stuffed down inside her jeans, and was frantically jilling herself off, which was causing her delicious boobs to jiggle like crazy - absolutely hypnotic! I had just enough presence of mind to say

“Here, let me help you!”

And I undid the button on her jeans and drew down her zip, before taking hold of the waistband of her jeans and heaving them down, revealing her delightfully rounded tummy, and silky white knickers with a hand inside. I resumed kissing her nipples, one after the other, whilst sliding my hands around, onto her arse, and then inside her knickers, lifting, squeezing, shaking her generous buttocks, amazed that I was amazed by just how soft and smooth they were. I eased her knickers down…

And stopped sucking her nipple to watch her. One of her hands was cupping her mound, partly concealing her generous bush, a finger curled inside her pussy, making the most delicious wet and squelchy sounds. She was panting, head bowed over, looking down at me. I leaned forward and kissed her tummy, then licked her belly-button, which made her shudder, her massive boobs bouncing against the top of my head.

“Fuuuuck… I’m sooo close… Suck my nipple again - hard!”

I obeyed, eagerly drawing as much of her boob into my mouth as I could and swirling my tongue over her nipple’s pebbly hardness; in response she simply exploded into orgasm, almost collapsing onto the floor as she lost control of her body. She finished up leaning heavily on me, half collapsed, panting and moaning rhythmically. I was submerged in pink flesh - heavenly except for barely being able to breathe.

After a few moments of this, she shuffled backwards, hobbled by her half-on, half-off, jeans and knickers, and sat heavily on the floor at my feet, boob and belly flesh jiggling like jelly on a plate.

“WOW!” she exclaimed. “I really needed that. It’s been far too long.”

I sat there, staring dumbly at this beautifully voluptuous specimen of womanhood, so obviously satiated, and so obviously happy and confident in her skin. She looked at me, eyes shining. I stared back.

“You’re so beautiful!” I whispered, unable to trust my voice, “I can’t believe what just happened. That was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” she said. “You’re beautiful too! I love your ripe young body - so smooth, so firm, so sexy. I could easily go again - but this is probably neither the time nor the place. Let’s get cleaned up.”

I looked in the mirrors - I was less of a mess than I’d been after all the tears, but I was hardly presentable enough to go back to work. She, by contrast, looked as cool as a cucumber, bar for her cheeks being rather rosy. It didn’t take her long at all, with the aid of the mirror, to return herself to the state in which she had entered the shop, as we chattered on as if nothing out-of-the-ordinary had happened. She then helped me straighten out my make-up and mussed up hair again. It wasn’t long before I too looked pretty good… Looking at myself in the mirror though, there was definitely something different about me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.

Over my shoulder she saw the way I was looking, moved my hair aside, leaned in and kissed my neck.

“You’re even more gorgeous now than you were before,” she said, “in a word, you look fulfilled. You look as though you’ve found yourself, and you’re happy with what you’ve found.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, thoughtfully, “it’s all so different, and I need time to figure it all out.”

“I can help you with that,” she said brightly, “it was years ago, but I’ve been though just the same process of self-discovery; I can be your guide if you like; if you’ll have me. Please let me help you?”

“Well, I don’t know who else to ask. I don’t think any of my friends are, er, gay?”

“What are you doing this evening?”

“I haven’t got any plans. I dumped my boyfriend recently, and I haven’t felt like going out - because I haven’t felt as though I wanted either a one-night-stand, nor to get seriously involved with some boy or other - to be honest, it’s all a bit tiresome, plus I’m still smarting a bit - he was a bit of an arse towards the end.”

“Well, why don’t we go out for a meal later - once you finish here? And then we can go to mine and we can talk…”

She left the rest of the sentence unsaid; there was no need to spell it out.

“That would be lovely. I haven’t had a proper ‘girly evening’ in ages - my boyfriend was very demanding and very much the jealous type. And I guess I do need to talk. And...”

I left the rest unsaid too - I definitely still had the hots for her, and judging by the way she was looking at me, so had she. In fact she looked as if she was having trouble resisting just grabbing me and carrying on where we left off - we definitely had a lot of unfinished business.

We exchanged phone numbers and decided to go to a nice little Italian restaurant on the high street. She said she would book it and confirm with me. Then we went to the till, and she paid for the items she’d decided to buy, including the pink strapless top. She also tipped my manageress quite generously, and then left, after giving me a peck on the cheek, whilst goosing my arse and giving me a very suggestive wink.

Aliçon seemed somewhat nonplussed, but also happy with her tip - which was pretty generous. She was also quite concerned about me, which was very sweet; it took me some time to convince her that actually I was fine. The rest of the day passed without incident; other than Aliçon giving me half the tip at the end of the day because, as she said, I was the one who had earned it - but that she really didn’t want to know how!!

To be continued…