Shopping With Brianne

He rolled his eyes as she sauntered out in yet another top. He lost count of outfits, but he was positive this was the seventh shop they had been in that afternoon. Evan was shocked that his good friend Brianne couldn't tell that he was being tortured by all this girlie nonsense. Lord knows if he had wanted pants, he would walk into the closest store to home, picked out his size (what was with all this trying on anyways? Didn't women know what size they were by the time they reached adulthood?), bought them and was home in under an hour. Brianne seemed to enjoy the conquest of a new outfit, and Evan had a day to kill, so for today, he humored her. Besides, her ass looked great in a new pair of tight pants.

He was really actually very lucky to have a friend like Brianne. They had tried being a couple years ago, only to find they hated the constrictions brought upon a modern couple. They liked each other enough, and occasionally, if they were both in a dry spell and feeling a little a lonely a little sexual relief was worth three hours of "Should I go with the apricot or coral colored pants?" They both looked pink to Evan.

She popped out after what seemed like hours, and paid for two shirts and one pair of pants. And the Brianne got that look. The last time she got that look, he was arrested for indecent exposure at Great America. They had been on a standing roller coaster, clicking their way to the top, when she suggested that he remove all his clothes for the ride down. She threw in a twenty for added incentive, and he started stripping. He would never forget the way gravity could wreak havoc on your dick when your coasting down at ungodly speeds completely nude. Brianne had just cackled until the park security had him in the cuffs. Then she paid his bail. She was certainly not boring.

She was single-handedly responsible for anytime Evan had been nude in public, his first threesome (with two girls, thank you very much), and on the quieter side, his discovery of the female multiple orgasm. Evan prepared himself for what she might suggest this time. Strangely enough it sounded rather routine.

"Evan, could you stop at one more shop before we go back to my place?" Uh-oh. That was her kittenish voice. Never good. Her request to go to the nearest lingerie shop would have sounded fun and naughty to a naive and untrained guy, but Evan had been "lingerie shopping" with Brianne before, and it always meant holding her purse while she tried on sexy clothes behind the door, while the women and store clerks stared at him like he was a sex offender/foot fetishist. Yet, she did say one last store. And there was the look. So into the land of the frilly pink bra sets he wandered and prayed he would find a nice cushiony bench to park on. He did.

She selected the standard girl-fare, camisole and thong sets, a few nighties, and something from the back, which she hid from him giggling. She went into the room, and he bunkered down for the long wait. He listened in on the busy chatter of the woman in the stalls. There were disappointed moans, grunts from those trying to jam every last piece of flesh into a corset, and one woman singing En Vogue's "Never Gonna Get It", which slightly unnerved him. Brianne was remarkable quiet, except for the sound of zippers coming from her stall. Zippers, not zipper. Plural. Evan had a feeling her was in trouble.

That was when the five foot one, blonde haired cutie he called his "friend with benefits" popped her head out of the farthest corner stall and mouthed, "Come here", while bending her little finger. Man, was he in trouble. His only hope on the walk to the stall, besides blowing his load in anticipation, was being caught by a lady coming out of one of the other stall. He moved fast and made it there without a scene.

She pulled him in with some forced and pushed him face first against the mirror, fast enough so that he still didn't get a glimpse of what she snuck into the fitting room. He could see her in the reflections sucking his ear and whispering to him, "I couldn't stand it anymore, all these clothes just make me think of fucking." Still holding him hostage with her body against his, against the mirror, she ran her hand down his back and smacked him lightly on the ass. He was afraid of the noise attracting attention until she ran her hands up his shirt and then back into his pants. And then he stopped thinking of trouble at all.

She rolled his earlobe in between her teeth, which sent shivers up his spine, and then she kissed and sucked on his neck, which just solidified the hard-on growing in his pants to rock hard proportions.

After a quick detour from his neck into his hair with her fingers, she flipped him over and he got a look at the red leather get-up she had melted onto herself. The top was corset-like, but instead of snaps and strings, was entirely composed of leather straps and zippers. Her tits popped out of the top like ripe fruit waiting to be bitten, and his mouth watered at the thought. The bottom was composed of red leather pants with zippers separating the crotch from the legs and the legs split in half, two zippers divided the panty portion so that it could fall off of her body if she were unzipped in just the right fashion.

The legs became boots at the bottom with a heel so sharp, he was sure they had to be registered as lethal weapons. They too had zippers all their own. She looked like a sexy version of the devil, and he knew she was just that sort of temptress.

She planted a kiss on him while still holding him by the hair, and darted her pointed tongue in and out of his mouth in a teasing fashion. She leaned her body onto him and her could feel her tits against him, begging to be freed from their leather prison. She reached down and grabbed his cock in owning fashion, running her hand down the length of it, stopping short of his balls. She smiled, and he got anxious. What did that mean? She lowered herself slowly, all the while staring into his eyes to gauge his nervous reaction, when she tugged his pants and shorts off in one motion, revealing him, in horny glory.

She popped the head of his dick in her mouth so fast it caught him by surprise and he had to stop the scream in his throat. So that was the game, to be as quiet as possible or be caught mid-fellatio. He was up for it. Literally. She bobbed up and down on him, squatting wide-legged, and used her tongue to massage the shaft each time it passed. And then she played dirty pool. She reached down and began to massage his balls while blowing him. It would have been enough to make him come in his younger days. Luckily he had learned restraint since then.

He placed his hands flat against the walls for support and hoped no one would see his head over the dressing room door. She changed motions and began a vacuum assault, puckering her lips into a seal. Just as he was about to come, he had an epiphany. He would beat her at her own game. He whipped her up from him and unzipped her top, letting her perfect tits bounce out. As he put one in his mouth, he looked up just long enough to catch the confused look in her eyes. He made a trail of sucking and kissing from her nipple to the nape of her neck all while trying to unzip enough clothes to have his way with her.

He managed to get enough clothing off to slide his hands down the front of the suit and reach her crotch. He massaged her until she leaned into him and closed her eyes, when he knew enough to pull down the rest of the outfit and sling a long, slim leg over his shoulder. He leaned her into the door and began licking her clit softly, waking it to him. He used his fingers and spread her open, admiring the clean-shaven pinkness he was staring into. He knew how to get her; he slid one finger into her wet pussy just as his tongue met her clit and a knuckle rubbed gently on her tight puckered ass. She just about collapsed onto him, and he used his licking in a way to guide her into the door, so she would not fall.

She came in a quiet shudder, but he knew Brianne, and that was the appetizer to the next full course. She knelt down over him, sitting face forward on his lap, and with one swift hip movement, he was inside her. She tightened her thighs bent her knees to rise up and slam down on top of him, giving him momentary tastes of her glorious chest. She controlled him again, and he knew he was losing the game, until he noticed the bench next to him in the tiny fitting room. He began to stand, with her still riding him, and plopped her down, legs dangling. He stood at her, grabbing her thighs, and was able to control the slamming, going deeper and deeper, faster and harder, until she came, making a noise that alerted an attendant.

"I'm fine, just slipped." Brianne managed to get out before it looked like she would bite her own tongue off. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as her pussy, thighs and ass all shuddered in one motion and he was soaked. He pumped her harder until he too clenched his teeth and came, grasping her hips in one final thrust. After a second to breathe, Brianne giggled and got her clothes together. He put his on and slipped out, with only an eyebrow raised a fellow shopper as he resumed my spot on the bench. Brianne emerged minutes later and purchased the red thing. They still don't know who won that game.