Tits Out in a Trice; NawtybutNice

Our previous trips to NawtyButNice were pleasantly domestic routines. I'd dressed down for this trip to our local sex shop; a tight, translucent T-shirt, denim short-shorts, perhaps a little shrunken from over-washing, and scandals. The shirt clung to my surgically 'enhanced-to-entrance' 34DD boobs. I'm Latina, and rear-loaded, a generous part of my petite 110lbs frame was compressed into my short-shorts. Otherwise, I'm early 30s, long, black hair, brown eyes, a would-be MILF worth a second, or third, glance.

That's why Tony took me to N'nN, to try on sexy outfits and lingerie, to accelerate our breeding evenings at home. We went early, while it was quiet not wanting to bump into neighbours. Previous visits were uneventful. Today, I'd come home and Tony's shift was cancelled; I was on heat, he was horny and wanted to rut. His balls were visibly charged, all we needed was a little something guaranteed to extract every drop.

Some furtive guys in the store were picking gifts to take home to their significant others. At the Toys display, Tony leaned past a customer to pick up the new vibrator on 'promo'. As the guy moved aside, he glanced at me, then deftly replaced the intimidating-looking orgasmatron and feigned a heart attack.

I recovered first. "Well, Hi Jackson. Long time, no see. How's tricks?"

He gawped at me, hugging the arm of this fit Adonis examining the new, scientifically designed double-ended device that could seek out both 'her' clitoris and 'his' prostate, using 14 programmable settings to guarantee simultaneous orgasms.

He choked. "Hi."

I reminded him of our happy school days. He ogled my boobs while I was talking, then stammered, "You've grown... impressively."

That thrilled me. At school, I'd been the flat-chested girl. "Oh, that's cosmetic surgery. It's been a boost for my self-esteem, I can wear the revealing stuff hubby likes without feeling I'm cheating him." Tony grinned lecherously.

We chatted a few minutes then Tony shook Jackson's hand and we went our ways around the store.

I felt Jackson's eyes follow me. I held up a sheer piece of nonsense to show Tony. "Honey, I'm trying this one on." I glanced at Jackson. We locked eyes: he smiled ruefully and looked away. Tony went to chat with Jackson while I changed.

The outfit was a pair of see-through, open-access culottes and a loose-fitting, deep V, see-through top that concealed, whilst revealing my nipples. A jiggle and I could expose one, or both of my tits. I could, with my surgically engineered confidence, I would.

I peeked out of the dressing room. The boys were ten feet away chatting, looking over. As I stepped out in this outfit, I bumped into a guy a yard to my left. I skipped to my right in faked surprise, popping my left boob, turned and smiled apologetically at him. He was a chubby white guy, over 60, balding with thick glasses, engrossed in 'Double Ds' magazine. He looked a little creepy, but when he saw my living, breathing Double' Ds, he dropped the mag.

"Oh Dear...Excuse me." I slipped my tit back and walked over to the boys who were laughing. "What's best, paper or flesh?' I asked Jackson.

"Well, I don't see Tony buying those mags," he said nervously.

I knew he'd crushed on me back in school. I span around for him to get a full view, holding my arms out to lift and pop my tits. I was now standing in front of Jackson, my boobs exposed, he staring at them, and Tony smirking at me. I didn't know what to do. Everyone in the store was watching; I felt so admired. On impulse, I took Jackson's hands, placed them on my boobs and encouraged him to weigh and feel the new me. "You have surgeon's hands."

The manageress called, "To avoid arousing other customers, try on garments only inside the dressing rooms."

I pecked Jackson on the lips and sashayed to the dressing room. Creepy still stared. His empty hands continued holding the fallen magazine, and from the floor, an over-endowed Centrefold stared up at his tenting crotch: Creepy preferred me.

I changed. When I returned, Jackson had left. Tony said, "We had a good laugh about it... he was kinda freaked out; it's always good to get a second opinion."

I agreed. "We really must, often, look, feel... AND MORE. Invite Jackson back sometime."

Tony grinned. "We'll buy a pack of condoms and invite your new friend, Creepy?"