One Little Question

"I would say it was more than one little question," Trish said. "I think the little part of it went out the window when you started describing how deep Jay can get his tongue in your—"

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Wilson!" I said loudly, waving at the elderly woman I knew from the community league as she walked past us in the opposite direction. She widened her eyes, then looked away quickly.

"I'm just so disappointed in him," I said.

"Who?" Trish asked.

"Seth. I thought he was better than that."

"He might have a good reason for it," Trish said.

"And Laura might just not like it that much," Phoebe said.

"That's total bullshit. Anyone who says they don't enjoy getting their pussy ate is a liar," I said.

Even though Trish sighed and looked at me pointedly, it still took a minute before I realized what I'd said. By then, Phoebe's cheeks were pink and she was chewing on her bottom lip.

"Sorry," I said. "That was harsh. I forgot you don't."

"It's fine," Phoebe said.

"You just need to stop thinking about other people's sex lives," Trish said. "What happens between Seth and Laura is their business. No one else's."

"That is true," I said. "But have you considered that other people's sex lives are interesting?"

"I have considered that," Trish said as Phoebe giggled. "And that makes me wonder just how much you were talking up Jay's skills, since if your own sex life was interesting enough, you might not need to focus on others so much."

I cackled, drawing looks from the bustling shoppers around us. But I couldn't help it. People said that whole honeymoon phase where you can't keep your hands off each other faded a few months after getting married, but Jay and I had been married for twelve years and that honeymoon phase hadn't slowed down even once. We made time for sex almost every day and the days that we didn't just felt wrong. No matter how tired my husband was when he got home from work, he wanted to touch me. To kiss me. To squeeze me, hold me, lick me, fuck me... God.

"Trish, the worst part about being married to Jay is that I know I'm keeping a literal sex god from the rest of the female population," I said. "Trust me. My husband knows his way around the sack. Which is why I think every woman deserves a man that makes her feel as good as Jay makes me feel.

"And you're just a snoop," she said.

"I am a snoop," I agreed, then slowed as I spotted a store I wanted to go into. "And right now, I think I'm gonna snoop for a little extra special Christmas present for Jay."

Trish raised her eyebrows. "From Lacy Pleasures?"

"My sister works there," Phoebe said.

"Does your sister give special discounts on seasonal lingerie to her sister's coworker's sister-in-law?" I asked.

Phoebe shrugged. "Probably. I never use her friends-and-family discount."

"Perfect. I think some Christmas lingerie is in order," I said. "You can both help me pick out something that'll blow Jay's mind."

"I think you just need to strip down naked for that," Trish said.

The cookie exchange had been a blast. I'd been a bit sad when Denise said she wouldn't be able to make it, but Laura had been eager to attend, so the numbers all worked out anyway. And I did quite like Laura. She'd been good for Seth in the months since they'd been together. And they looked so damn cute together. Laura, with her pretty blonde hair and big brown eyes and gorgeous figure. Seth, who looked like he could've been a jock in high school, but the nice guy kind who was probably friends with everyone.

I was rooting for them. I really was.

But she didn't know anyone at the cookie exchange super well, so there was a chance that our informal survey about whether men went down on women for their pleasure or for ours—the results of which I hadn't found overly surprising, but some of the others had—had been a little much for her. I'd have to ask Halle the next time we chatted, since she and Laura lived in the same general direction and had walked home together. Shortly after they left, Nadia had sighed and said she better get home to relieve her husband from her kids, leaving Phoebe and Trish at my place. I wasn't quite ready for the day to end, so I'd suggested the mall for some last minute holiday bargain shopping.

And lingerie shopping, because why not? Jay deserved a little treat.

"Pheebs!" said a tall, slim saleswoman the moment we walked into the lingerie store. She beelined towards us, heels clacking against the tile floor. "Thank God. Finally, something good happens today."

I couldn't help but think she was almost a spitting image of Phoebe, with her thick black hair and pinkish-white skin. She was thinner, yes, but had the same general body shape and fairy-tale princess aura about her. Her lips were painted red and she was wearing an all-black outfit that looked elegant and sexy all at once.

"Everything okay?" Phoebe asked as she approached.

The woman gave her a tired but genuine smile. "Just insanely busy and you are a sight for sore eyes."

Phoebe smiled and hugged the woman, then turned to us. "Olivia, you remember my coworker, Trish? This is her sister-in-law, Candice."

"Nice to meet you," I said, extending my hand.

"And you," Olivia said. "Were you the one doing the cookie exchange today?"

"Yep, that would be me."

Olivia looked down at the bag in my hand and then up at me with a serious, pointed expression. "And you didn't bring any to share with your friendly local lingerie peddler during the Christmas rush? Rude."

I liked her already.

"Tell you what," I said. "I'm looking for something that'll make my husband drop to his knees and bury his face in my—"

"—oh hi again, Mrs. Wilson! Merry Christmas!" Trish said abruptly.

Poor Mrs. Wilson looked like she was about to have a heart attack as she turned away from us and headed towards the BBB section—that is, the Basic Beige Bra section.

"... so if you can help me find that, I'll come back with an entire tray of cookies for you," I finished saying to Olivia, who was struggling not to laugh.

"I think I have just the thing."

She motioned for me to follow her, which I did, then stopped when I realized Phoebe was hovering awkwardly near the entrance.

"Are you coming, Phoebe?" I asked.

She looked at me with her wide eyes. "I... you want me to see you try on lingerie?"

I shrugged. "Why not? I need honest opinions and possibly a few sassy jokes, which are your specialty."

She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, then shrugged and followed me.

Olivia led us to the back of the store, which had a selection of expensive scraps of lace displayed tastefully on mannequins that had no nipples or heads. She asked my size and pulled a few options of lacy scraps from the racks. After picking a few myself and attempting to talk Trish into trying on a leather-and-lace corset-style bustier that she was eyeing, Olivia took us to the private fitting room with a cozy looking couch, soft lighting, and a large mirror.

"Look at us with the VIP treatment," I said, impressed, while she pulled back the curtain to the change area.

"I usually hate VIP duty," Olivia said. "Except for not having to be out on the sales floor while people are trying things on. But you don't seem like you're going to yell at me, so..."

"I might yell at you for costing me too much money if these all look good, but I'll still bring you the cookies."

"Worth it," she said.

The first set I tried on was awful. I burst out laughing and poked my head out of the curtain.

"Do you ladies want to see this?" I asked. "Full disclosure, you will see ninety-six percent of my ass cheeks and I don't promise the remaining four percent isn't under something that's completely see-through."

"I want to see it," Trish said, and Phoebe blushed.

I wasn't a small woman.

I'd never been a small woman. My body was all hips and boobs and junk in the trunk, with thick and jiggling thighs. And there was a whole society of people who tried to tell me that kind of body was wrong, but as my grandma used to say, "They don't have to live in it, so fuck 'em." I liked my body and its curves. So did my husband, not that his opinion made my body more valid.

But having a bigger body did mean that sometimes, things that should have theoretically looked good were... well, awful.

"Oh my God," Trish said when I let the curtain go.

Phoebe had clapped her hand to her mouth, but she let out a relieved giggle when she saw me laughing.

"Oh, no," Olivia said, looking horrified.

I waved a hand at her as I admired myself in the mirror. "Don't worry. This is one of the sets I picked myself. Apparently, I have horrendous taste today."

It was green, which was the first problem; green looked awful on me. There was fur trim along the bottom of the bra, not that anyone could see it. The top part lacked any sort of under wire or support whatsoever, so my tits were hanging over the bottom and covered the embellishment completely. But the main issue was that it was one of those teddy bodysuits, and the designers of the garment seemed to think that the wider a body was, the longer it also was.

In other words, it was not built for short, fat girls, so the crotch of the teddy was... hanging.

"That's a new designer," Olivia said, cringing. "We just started carrying the larger sizes. But I, uh... don't think we'll be carrying them for much longer."

"It's like they just took something for a straight-sized woman and just stretched it in every direction," Phoebe said, and Olivia looked at her sister apologetically, her cheeks red as she bit her lip.

"I'm assuming the other sets were made for actual plus-sized people," I said.

"Oh, yes. Try that gold lace one on next," Olivia said. "That one is a personal favourite and I think it'll look phenomenal on you."

She was right about that one.

And the next one.

And two more that I couldn't decide between.

"I told you I was going to yell at you if these cost me too much money," I scolded as I admired the final lingerie set in the mirror. This one was green, too, but it was a much nicer green done in material that looked like crushed velvet, paired with black leather trim that was so soft, I didn't want to stop running my hands over it.

Olivia glanced at Phoebe. "Well, maybe if my little sister also found something sexy today, I could swing a little friends-and-family discount your way."

"No," Phoebe said immediately. "I don't need any lingerie."

Trish's face lit up. "Oh, come on, Pheebs! Miguel would love that."

Phoebe shook her head. "I don't do the lingerie thing. It's just not me."

"Have you ever worn it?" I asked.

She pressed her lips together, then sighed. "Well, no, but—"

"Then how do you know you don't like it?" Trish asked.

"I... I just do," Phoebe said, her voice softer than usual. "I don't like lingerie. It... it gets in the way."

There was something to that softness that wasn't quite truthful. I stopped touching the leather and velvet on the lingerie set and turned towards her.

"You would look so good in that red babydoll Candice tried on," Trish said. "The one with the high-waisted thong that laced up in the back?"

"I wouldn't," Phoebe said.

"You totally would," Trish argued. "I would wear that in a heartbeat."

For all her quietness and dry wit, I'd never seen Phoebe get upset. But just then, pink patches appeared on her cheeks and she glared up at Trish, her jaw trembling.

"And you have no idea what it's like to be a bigger girl," she snapped. "Do you know how uncomfortable I'd feel in that? How awful my body would look in it?"

Silence filled the small VIP area. Phoebe's face went even redder and Olivia bit her lip again, a look of heartbreak in her eyes. I looked from her to Phoebe, then down at my lingerie.

"Did you think it looked awful on my body, Pheebs?" I asked.

Phoebe whipped her head towards me, her eyes wide. "What? No, of course—"

"Because you and I have pretty similar body types," I said. "And I looked like a fucking goddess in that set."

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "It's not... not the same. All of these look amazing on you because you don't have a belly like I do. You're not shaped like I am."

"She kind of is, though," Olivia said gently. "I know you're insecure about your stomach, Pheebs, but that's in your head. If you thought it looked good on Candice, it's going to look good on you, too."

"Trish might not know what it's like to be plus-size, but I do," I said bluntly. "And I promise you, Pheebs, you're going to feel like a queen in it."

She looked like she was about to cry. "I just don't think I'll look good in it the way you do."

"Well, I know you would." I picked up the set off the rack and held it out to her. "Here. Just try it and we'll stop bothering you. Just one."

She stared at the lingerie hanging on the hanger, then hesitantly reached out and took it. When she didn't move towards the changing room, I raised my eyebrows and gestured towards it.

"Aren't you going to change first?" she asked me.

"Why? Look how cute I am in this," I said. "They'll be lucky to get it off me so they can scan it at the till."

"We could just take the tags off and scan those," Olivia said helpfully.

I smiled. "See? Go try it on. I'm going to sit on that couch and lounge in my lingerie."

She licked her lips, then nodded before looking at me with a pained expression. "I'm sorry I said, um... or, well, implied that—"

"You don't need to be sorry," I said. "I get it, Pheebs. I've been there. But being in a smaller body isn't necessary for happiness. You're allowed to be happy how you are, especially when you're a fucking bombshell like you and I are."

She laughed. It was a watery, shaky sound that I felt deep in my heart, but it was a laugh all the same.

"Now go change," I said to her. "I'm ready for the fashion show."

I wasn't upset in the slightest about what Phoebe had said. I knew all too well how she was feeling and just how damn hard it was to escape from those thoughts. But they were completely unjustified. Phoebe was incredibly beautiful. That black hair and big eyes and her curves? The way she wore the hell out of that sweater dress that looked like it had been tailor-made for her?

I had no idea why she was self-conscious about her tummy. I couldn't honestly say I'd ever noticed it on her before, but I knew how little that mattered. She noticed it, and that made it a hard thing to overcome.

But she would. Because I knew I wasn't the only person who thought she was gorgeous. And as she walked out of the change room a few minutes later, I thought there might be one more person in the world who thought so, too.

"Oh my gosh," Olivia said in a hushed voice that sounded eerily like her sister's.

"Wow," Trish said.

"Told you so," I added.

Phoebe laughed, but she didn't argue. There was a hint of red in her eyes and I had a feeling she'd had a bit of a cry in the change room while she got dressed, but if she had, the tears were long gone. She was wearing that red babydoll like she'd been born to do it. Approaching the mirror, she brushed her long, black hair over one shoulder and studied her reflection for a moment.

"It does look nicer than I thought it would," she admitted.

"Nice?!" I said. "Girl, that is the last word I would use to describe this. Miguel is about to find out what happens when his sexy fucking girlfriend makes it onto Santa's naughty list."

Her face went beet red, but she laughed as she admired herself in the mirror. "You think he'll like it?"

"He's going to rip it to shreds," Trish said. "Take some photos of yourself before showing it to him because I'm willing to bet it'll last about thirty seconds before he gives into his primal urges."

I snorted. "'Primal urges'?"

"You know I'm right."

"Yeah, but you don't have to call it that."

Phoebe pursed her lips. "So you think I should get it?"

"Pheebs, let me tell you this from the bottom of my heart," Olivia said before either Trish or I could knock some sense into Phoebe. "If you don't buy that today, I'm going to buy it for you. And then I'm going to wrap it up and put it under the Christmas tree and you're going to unsuspectingly open it in front of Mom and Dad at Christmas dinner next week."

"You wouldn't!" Phoebe said.

"I would. So if you want to give Miguel a fighting chance at not giving in to his 'primal urges' in front of our parents—"

"You're the worst sister," Phoebe muttered. "Fine. But I want a good discount if you think he's going to shred it anyway."

Olivia practically beamed. "Maybe you should get a second set, just in case."

She didn't quite talk Phoebe into another set of lingerie, but that was okay. One was a start, and even though Phoebe's face was the same colour as the discreet blush pink bags we walked out of Lacy Pleasures with after changing, I felt like we'd made some progress with her that day.

And I was about to make more.

"Phoebe, is the reason you weren't into lingerie before the same as why you don't like getting your pussy eaten?" I asked as we walked towards the exit of the mall.

"Candice!" Trish squeaked. "Rude."

But if Phoebe thought it was, she didn't say so. Instead, she glanced down at the ground, her shoulders hunching forward a bit.

"It is, isn't it?" I asked, though I tried to make my voice a bit gentler.

"It's hard," she admitted. "I mean, I try not to let it get to me and be confident or whatever, but I just... I freeze up. It's hard enough to be naked with someone, let alone have him... you know. Right there."

I put an arm around her shoulders. "I know. I mean, I really know."

She sighed. "But you're so confident."

"I am now. I wasn't always. But you know what?"

"What?"

"You're hot, Pheebs."

Her face turned red and she giggled.

"You are," I insisted. "You're gorgeous. And Miguel thinks so, too. I mean, obviously. So you know what you do?"

"What?"

"You go home, put your new sexy set on, and show him the woman he sees every time he looks at you. Then you grab a towel, walk up to him, and wipe his face."

Trish looked as bewildered as Phoebe did. "Why?"

I blinked at them both innocently. "Well, when he asks that, you say you're just cleaning your seat before you sit down."

Phoebe clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "I can't. I can't do that."

"What? Wipe his face or sit on it?"

"Sit on it," she said, her voice so quiet it was almost non-existent. "What if I crush him?"

I stopped walking and turned to her, an unimpressed look on my face as I folded my arms.

"Girl, let me tell you something," I said. "First of all, if it's too much for him, he'll try to get you to move. He's still got arms and the ability to use them. Second of all, if for some reason he doesn't, you'll figure out he's not breathing when he stops moving and you're like, 'what the fuck, why did you stop eating my pussy?'"

She stared at me, her eyes wide.

"But here's the thing," I continued. "I can tell you I've sat on Jay's face multiple times a week for the past fifteen or so and I've yet to kill him. Suffocate him enough to cause some brain damage? Maybe. But that's a him problem for not telling me to move soon enough."

"You think?" she asked.

I nodded. "Just try it, Pheebs. Like, at least you've got a guy who's willing to do it. Can you imagine being Laura and Seth not being willing to even try?"

"So sad," Trish murmured, and Phoebe let out a giggle.

I don't know that I actually convinced her to sit on Miguel's face, but she was at least smiling as we left the mall.

The rest of the day passed slowly. After Phoebe and Trish went to their respective homes, I went back to my place and cleaned up the rest of the mess from the cookie exchange, then took a shower and changed into one of the new lingerie sets I'd bought—a very festive lacy set that had crotchless panties and snowflake-shaped buttons down the front. Then, I got into bed, grabbed a book, and waited.