Mom's Changing Room (Full)

Writer's Note: This is a complete version of Mom's Changing Room. I decided to combine both parts into one full story. If you had already read part one, the beginning of part two is marked just past the halfway point in the story.

Published: July 2021

Enjoy!

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After eighteen years, Emily and Roger were coming out of a bubble. Their son was going off to college soon. Flying the nest. And they were staring into a future together where it would just be them, as a couple, like it had been back when they first started. But they were older now. Wiser. They had money, comfort in their own skin, and each other. It was exciting. It was their time.

With a new stage of life came new questions. With new questions came new conversations. With new conversations came new revelations. In only three months, they had uncovered new goals, new travel ideas, and new interests. Among them, new sexual kinks and fantasies. Hot ones.

As enchanting as new fantasies are to discuss and plan, acting on them requires commitment and courage. Emily and Roger had never been a risk-loving pair. That was what made tonight, an ordinary Thursday in late March, extraordinary. Tonight, they were feeling courageous.

Every time after sex, for weeks, they built the vision in each other's minds. They touched on every detail, both practical and erotic, again and again. Each time, their nerves lessened and their hunger grew. They were finally at a point where their confidence and desire overpowered their inhibitions. Talking about it no longer delivered the rush they needed. They had to act soon.

Tonight gave them their opportunity.

1*****

"No, man, this fucking level is taking forever!" Eric scoffed into his headset microphone. His digital character jumped and shot at opponents until his desktop monitor ran red with blood. "Ah!" Rubbing his fatigued eyes, he cursed himself for failing to reach the target area once again.

Ever since his college acceptance letter arrived back in January, Eric had slowly eased into his summer-break mentality. Surfing the ocean wasn't possible during the week, but playing video games in his room certainly was. And Eric was playing a lot of them. He could tell it bothered his parents, but he was a high school senior -- an adult now -- so he could decide how to spend his time. Even if he knew it was a poor way to spend it.

"Are you kidding me?! Are. You. Kidding. Me?!" Eric lashed out at his stupid computer. Video games brought out the worst in an otherwise pleasant, young man. When a loud knock interrupted him, he nearly yelled at the door. WHAT?! But a calmer head prevailed.

Eric breathed deeply through his nose and wiped his flowing, sunny-brown hair from his sweaty forehead. "Yes?" He and his online friends were "this close" to beating the final level, so the last thing he wanted was a long conversation with his parents.

Luckily, his dad felt the same way.

"Eric..." Roger's silver head rested on his son's door while he shoved the tails of his dress shirt into his open pants. "Your mom and I are going out to see friends tonight. We won't be back 'till late. If there's a problem, text me. Okay?"

"Okay," Eric agreed, through his bedroom door. When his dad's soft footsteps faded away, he turned back to his PC game and apologized to his friends.

It wasn't until he was lining up a long-range shot that his dad's words registered. Eric perked up in his swivel chair. Wait... he thought, Why didn't he didn't come in to talk? And what friends? It's, like, eleven o'clock!

"Mom? Dad?" Eric bounded into the living room just as his parents were opening the side door.

He saw his mom mutter something under her breath and then smile at him. "Yes, sweetie?"

Eric held his hips while he inspected his parents. They look... normal. "Umm..." His clean-cut dad was in a pastel polo. His more casual mom was in a button-up shirt with slim, white pants. There was no sign of wine bottles or cheese platters -- nothing to suggest they were headed anywhere interesting. The only oddity was his mom's makeup. Her mascara and lipstick looked striking compared to her simple button-up. Dude... You know nothing about makeup, he remembered. "Where are you guys going?"

They glanced at each other. "We're going to the Frasiers' house. For drinks."

"Oh..." Eric sensed their unease. "Well, have fun."

"Thank you! See you later, hun. Text us if you need anything." His mom smiled and disappeared through the door. His dad bestowed a firm, attaboy nod and made his exit.

Eric stood alone in the empty foyer. "Well... that was fucking weird."

It was the strangest interaction Eric had ever had with his parents -- which was saying something. Their vibe was unsettling enough for Eric to wonder if they were in trouble. They looked like two gambling addicts sneaking off into the night to meet their loan shark at a casino.

Well... Eric had an active imagination, but he wasn't imagining the worry in their eyes when he saw them. Something was off. He could feel it in his gut. Like a bolt of lightning, he tore from the foyer to his bedroom. He rolled on his bed and struggled into a pair of wrinkled blue jeans.

He slammed the front door behind him and fumbled with his car keys. His engine roared and he raced down the road after his parents.

----

His used Mustang cut through the dark, night air. There was only one main road running through the nestled suburb. And only one direction led to meaningful civilization. The teenager's heart pounded, surprised by his own decision and overwhelmed by the black expanse in his windshield.

Before long, he spotted the familiar, triangular shape of his mom's SUV. He followed the red glow at a distance.

As the Frasiers' turn-off neared, Eric said aloud, "If they don't turn in here, then something's up." The SUV didn't even tap on the brakes. Eric's blood chilled into icy adrenaline. His parents had lied.

Street after street of oversized suburban housing faded into the rearview mirror. The wind smacked his face through his open window, smelling like the recent rain. He couldn't let this go. He was driving and he had nowhere to be.

After more than twenty-five minutes on the flat road, the towers from the local airport flashed before him. Are they flying somewhere? He twisted his head toward the row of aircraft.

But they didn't turn. Instead, Eric tailed his parents past the airport and into a Walmart parking lot. What the hell? He thought. Did they forget to buy snacks for the Frasiers' party? It's not even the closest Walmart!

Eric idled in the back of the ghostly lot. Watching. The doors to the silver SUV opened, and his mom and dad stepped out before making their way together to the illuminated doors. After parking in a spot far away, Eric waited in his car. He wasn't dumb enough to get caught snooping on foot during a pitstop.

----

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Roger scanned his surroundings.

The Walmart Supercenter was gigantic. Endless aisles of products were lit up by industrial lights, which hung from the rafters and reflected off the white walls. The chilled air smelled distinctly like cardboard and cleaning solution.

Emily and Roger stood on the entry rug. Instantly, Emily felt nervous butterflies in her stomach. But, when she looked within herself and remembered all of the work to get to this point, and when she looked up at her husband, all of her doubts seemed trivial. "I think I'm ready... if you are."

"I'm pretty excited about this." Roger grinned like a child.

Emily giggled and saw the bulge in his khakis. "I can tell."

Their smiles soon fell into awkward stares.

"So... What now?" Emily nudged.

"Umm... Let's just start walking around," Roger suggested. "Even at this hour, I'm sure we'll find someone."

"Maybe," Emily sighed. "I just hope it'll be the right someone."

"Hey," Roger assured, "if we draw a blank, then we draw a blank. Worst-case scenario, we get our toes wet. There's no pressure, Em. You know what to do. You know the protocol. And I'll be here the whole time. Nothing bad can happen."

"Mwah! Love you." Emily kissed and squeezed him before walking away, alone. With every few steps, she would glance back to make sure he could still see her.

For the devoted wife and mother, it was like an out-of-body, alien experience. She walked with her chin down and her eyes on the glossy, square tiles, too paranoid and vulnerable to make eye contact with the handful of night-shift workers.

The 24-hour box store was void of life. In one aisle, a gangly, old woman was sorting through boxes of denture adhesive. In another aisle, a tipsy, young woman, with green hair, was buying fish food.

Wait... Emily's heart accelerated. Is that...?

There was a man in front of her, pushing a loaded shopping cart to the cash registers. She followed him. With trembling legs, she urged herself to move faster. She did her best to check his left hand for a wedding ring from afar, but his body was in the way. So, Emily simply stopped and scurried away.

"Try being a little bolder :) You can do it!"

Emily read her husband's text and cursed herself for being so timid. She had to shape up, or the next opportunity would end the same way. If I get another opportunity...

Again, Emily set off and wandered the retail store.

Oh, duh!

Emily's pace quickened. Maybe it was her regret for not downing a glass of red wine before leaving the house, but she was struck by a simple thought. The forty-two-year-old kept her head on a swivel as she walked down the main aisle.

Aha! A sign hung over the liquor section, and it was already seeming like a good call. Emily heard a deep, male voice from around the corner. Then, there were more voices. And the instant she turned into the aisle with the refrigerated beer, she halted. Her white sneakers squeaked on the clean tile. Four men stared at her.

The stares weren't rude. Just curious. The four black men, all in their early thirties, were likely asking themselves why an attractive, affluent, soccer-mom-type was at a Walmart -- this Walmart -- shopping for beer at midnight. But their interest faded, and they continued their debate over which case of beer to buy.

Uh... Emily slowly looked back to her husband. Her eyes were wide and unsure. Two buzzes vibrated in her back pocket, and she took out her phone.

"I know this isn't what you imagined, but we probably won't get a better chance tonight. You have my support. So go for it!" "You'll never see them again :)"

She saw her husband encouragingly smiling at her. Hoo! C'mon, Em! YOU wanted this. You DO want this, she thought. Then, without thinking anymore, Emily stepped forward and said, "Excuse me?"

The beer debate stopped. The men tilted their heads at the white, blonde housewife. "Yes?" one responded.

Emily swallowed in her dry throat. The men were bigger and taller than her, and they were all in t-shirts and either loose-fitting jeans or flattering sweatpants. "Uh... What are you guys up to tonight?" Her words were cautious and monotone -- not the confident delivery she had practiced.

"Why? You wanna party with us?" a man joked, making the other three laugh.

Emily chuckled along, hoping they couldn't see her shaking skin. "No, ha. I just wanna know if you guys are in a hurry to get somewhere or not?"

Their eyes grew suspicious like she was accusing them of stealing. The biggest man, who had a dark, handsome face and a beard, replied in a rich voice, "We're all just 'boutta buy this beer and chill at my place. No biggie."

"Oh, fun. So... you'd have more time to spend here? If, ya know, you needed to?" Em, just fucking walk away!

"What do you mean? Why are you askin' us stuff like that?"

Now she had offended them. Every animal instinct in her brain told her to run the hell away and lick her wounds. But after months of dreaming, she couldn't bear the thought of driving home in failure.

Besides, at this point, what did she have to lose? Emily huffed and went for broke, saying what she had planned on saying to only one man tonight. "Guys, this may sound weird, but my husband is hiding over there, watching me. We have a fantasy of going to a store like this and, uh, me walking around and meeting a strange man... Or men, I guess. Then, uh, I'd let the men pick out an outfit for me from the clothes racks, and then I'd try on and wear it for them... So, yeah."

The men gaped in disbelief. One stared at her with wonder like it was Christmas morning. "You're playin' us, right?"

Their excitement made Emily's butt tingle. "No," she shook her head, "I'm not." As she watched their eyes explore her face and figure, she naturally straightened her spine and puffed her chest. She was beautiful.

"You gotta be playin' us. Where's your husband at?"

"Over there." Emily pointed to a DVD display across the main aisle. A silver head was poking out behind it.

"That's not your husband." The shortest fellow wagged his chin.

With boosted confidence, Emily grabbed the disbeliever's wrist and raised it in the air, waving it at Roger. From behind the display, he spryly popped up and waved back.

His clothes, age, and look about him were enough to convince the men beyond a doubt. "So, to be clear..." the lankiest one asked, "we just go and pick an outfit for you, and you'll put it on for us? Like that?"

"Yep!" Emily nodded, feeling the energy swell inside her. "In the dressing room."

"Any outfit we want?"

"If you can find it on the racks here and you want me to wear it, then I'll wear it for you."

The bearded man stepped closer. "Do we get to watch you change into it?"

"Nope, haha! But..." Emily bit her lip with her straight, white teeth and pushed her hair from her sticky forehead. She felt in control and courageous enough to say it. "But, if you guys want... and you use some paper towel or tissue... you can, uh, pleasure yourselves to me in the outfit."

The men shared wide glances.

"But, wait, there are cameras and shit, aren't there?" The lanky man asked, drawing the ire of his buddies. "What...? Don't look at me like that. You wanna get arrested?"

The alluring, five-foot-four blonde happily informed them, "No cameras! Don't worry, we already checked. It's the dressing room."

"Oh, man, that's clutch, haha!"

"Yeah, it is! So, I take it you guys are in...?" Her heart fluttered in her chest.

The friends looked at each other incredulously. Beer night was delayed. "Hell. Yes. So, what do we gotta do?"

"I guess that's up to you guys," Emily shrugged. "Take me shopping!"

As the four men led Emily on a search for the women's clothing department, Roger hornily followed and observed them from afar.

In one sense, Emily was relieved to make it through the nerve-wracking proposal. But now she was more anxious than she had ever been in her life. Never did she imagine there being more than one man. Never did she imagine any man being under thirty, and she was beginning to suspect one or two of them might be. Tonight was her first time, and Emily couldn't have imagined being more out of her comfort zone. And yet, here she was. All in. Excited. Standing in the lingerie section.

"Hey, let's plan this first," the bearded man mellowed. "What do we want her to look like in the end?"

"I can see her in one of those fishnet bodysuits. Maybe black? Or red? Or beige?" The shorter one mused.

"Brah, first off, I don't think they sell bodysuits like that here. Second, she'd look hot in any color," the lanky one said.

Emily blushed and bit her glossed, red lips. While the men debated next to her about how hot she'd look in different attire, her stress melted under the rays of the sexy attention. The night was going well, and her jittery body and happy smile were the proof. On occasion, she'd glance at Roger to share the experience with him.

"Let's just choose somethin' that shows off as much skin as possible," the lightest and youngest man suggested, eyeing the curves in Emily's button-up blouse. Her cheeks burned red. "Are we allowed to do that?"

In her smokey, mature voice, Emily cautioned, "The only rule is you have to cover these." She swirled her finger over her nipples and vagina. "Other than that, I want you to pick out whatever will make you happiest."

Her answer was more than acceptable to the men. So, the party of five continued their stroll through the racks of lingerie. There were hundreds of options.

----

Eric crept through the bright building. He lurked behind shelves and peeked around corners. Finding his parents in the near-empty store was proving to be surprisingly difficult. There's no crowd I can blend in with, he thought.

After waiting in his car for what felt like forever, he realized his parents weren't just buying chips and dip. They had to be inside. Right? Or did the Frasiers pick them up out back? Eric guessed wildly.

He was snooping around the perimeter when, suddenly, he threw his back against a metal wall. Shit! Time slowed to a crawl. His heart pounded in his chest. He flattened himself against the shelving unit and breathed heavily. His mom sounded like she was close. And over the faint whirr of the industrial air conditioner, Eric could also hear a man speaking on the carpeted area.

"We decided we wanna see you in a push-up bra."

"Oh, really?" Eric recognized his mom's voice. But not her tone. Her words lingered in the air, hitting a higher pitch than usual. Her laughter was easy and sporty.

"Yeah. What size are you?" Another male questioned her.

"38C," his mom answered, coolly.

"Damn! What a MILF. Haha! Seriously... that really your size?" Yet another man spoke.

Eric twisted his neck and looked through a small rivet hole in the gray metal. His brain sputtered. No more than ten feet away, an unfamiliar man was gawking at his mom's chest. What the fuck...? The son shook his head, but his mom really was standing there and having a conversation with four random black men about her boobs. They had even called her a MILF.

"38C's. I promise. Do you not believe me?" She challenged them.

"Nah, we believe you. They're definitely big. Ya know, just hard to tell with that dress shirt on."

His colleague added, "Yeah. You should show 'em off more."

"Funny..." his mom shrugged, "I thought that was your job?"

The group of men laughed with his mom and walked her to another clothes rack.

What. The. Hell. Eric felt woozy, as his world spun sideways. There was nothing about this that made sense. Whatever THIS was. Everything he thought he knew about his mom was just broken and thrown into a weird dimension.

He crouched down and waddled to find a better position, but he lurched back and fell on his ass. Right in front of him, his dad was squatting behind a gridwall of socks. As baffling as his mom's behavior was, his dad spying on her made everything more confusing. Eric crawled away before his dad could turn around and see him.

----

The night, so far, was more exhilarating than Emily had ever imagined it would be. She had always heard that fantasies are better in your head than in real life. If that was true, she had found the exception. Being in the store, in the flesh, in public, enjoying the sexy and risky activity with the attractive, strange men... It was frightening and electrifying. She felt high. Knowing her husband was on standby to protect her gave Emily the security to be confident and sexy.

The four men announced they had selected their first item. A chill ran through Emily's loins and chest as she admired the hot pink, push-up bra. Black lace adorned the cups. "Good choice, guys," she grinned.

"Yeah? You think?"

"Mm-hmm. I can tell it'll be popular..." She smirked at the tent in the lanky man's sweatpants. While his friends teased him, Emily took the bra from him and raised it in the air. As rehearsed, she laid it on a display and snapped her fingers twice. As soon as they walked away, Roger bustled over to the bra and dropped it in a handbasket.