A couple minutes later, she popped her head round the curtain. “Can you give me a hand, please, Char?” she called. I slipped in round the side of the curtain and pulled it closed behind me. Gemma was standing there, in a pair of panties, the basque held to her chest.
“I’m struggling to do it up,” she said, turning round to show me. The back of the garment was open and needed closing, by way of the twenty or so hook fasteners down each edge. I grasped both sides of the silky material and tried to pull them together, in vain. I pulled so hard I was afraid I was going to rip the fabric.
“Gemma, you definitely need a bigger size! Even if I managed to do this thing up — which I can’t — you wouldn’t be able to breathe!”
Gemma agreed and shrugged the basque off, exposing those tits to me again. “Be a sweet, go and fetch one a couple of sizes up, please? Save me getting dressed again.”
Oh well, that was progress. At least she didn’t walk through the shop with her baps on display. I did as she asked and took a larger sized one into the cubicle. A few minutes later, I succeeded in fastening all the hooks for her. She pivoted round to look in the mirror.
“How do I look?” she asked, turning to one side, then the other.
“Erm, actually, pretty fucking hot, if I’m honest,” I told her truthfully. She did. Just trying to look at her objectively, the scarlet and black of the garment complemented her hair beautifully and the basque moulded her figure, accentuating her waist and showing off her substantial boobs. If I was a guy, I would have fancied the pants off her.
Once she’d changed back and we’d paid for our new things, we continued our window shopping. Gemma paused outside a beauty salon. A sign announced, ‘No appointment necessary’ and another listed all the treatments available. She turned to me and discreetly whispered to me, “I wouldn’t mind getting waxed. I’m getting tired of shaving.”
“You do mean your legs, I hope?” Gemma just shook her head, slowly. Oh my god, the penny dropped. ‘Charlotte, you dunce, you are so naïve. She means her pubic area…’
“Go and check then. I’ll wait here,” I sighed.
A minute later, Gemma reappeared, telling me that they were available to do the treatment right then. “In fact,” Gemma added, “they can do us both.”
“No. No fucking way!” I retorted. “I would die from embarrassment, and besides, it must hurt like hell!”
“Oh, come on, be a sport. It only stings for a minute, and then you’ll be all lovely and smooth.”
“The answer is still ‘no’.”
The debate went on for several more minutes, until I finally caved in and reluctantly agreed. Which is how I came to be lying on a couch, legs akimbo, while a young Indian woman in a white tunic worked away on a part of me, which has only ever been seen by a couple of nurses and a very select group of men.
When she started ripping the wax off, I screamed out loud and shouted out to Gemma, who was in the next cubicle, “I swear I am going to bloody kill you when we get out of here!”
Once the woman had finished her torture, she applied a generous amount of soothing balm to my whole bikini area, rubbing it in with her gloved hand, into my mons and around my outer lips, then left me to get dressed. I gingerly touched myself. The whole area was sore as hell, but I couldn’t help but admire how beautifully smooth my skin was. I was also embarrassed to note that I was copiously wet.
Once we’d left the salon, we strolled through the mall a while longer. I couldn’t get over how silky smooth I felt down there. I became acutely aware of the way my panties slid over my skin, constantly reminding me of my now completely-bald pussy.
“So, how does it feel now, Char?”
“It feels fine, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean that I’m not still going to kill you when I get a chance.”
Gemma just laughed and playfully slapped my arm. “Don’t you think it feels sexy, two girls walking along in public and only we know that our pussies are completely bare?”
I had to agree… there was something quite erotic about that little secret.
Gemma giggled. “I did have to laugh when I heard you screaming like a baby though. I actually don’t mind a bit of pain; in fact, it can be a bit of a turn-on.
Gemma hooked into my arm and pulled me closer, whispering in my ear, “The little Asian girl who was doing me must have seen how wet I’d got. At one point, she ‘accidentally’ slid a couple of fingers inside me for a moment. She didn’t do anything else, but damn me, it felt good.”
So Gemma reacted the same way I had! I was kind of relieved that I wasn’t the only one. I then told her I needed the loo, so she agreed to wait outside with the shopping bags. When I’d peed and wiped, I carefully folded some tissue and put it inside my panties. I had an awful fear that I’d end up with a damp patch on my jeans otherwise.
I felt more confident after that, and we continued walking. Suddenly, Gemma nudged my arm and pointed. “Look, there’s an Ann Summers! C’mon, my little shrinking violet, let’s go and take a look.”
By now, I knew how pointless it was, even trying to argue with Gemma. She just refused to take ‘no’ for an answer. Maybe that was why she was so good at her job? Besides, after buying lingerie and getting my puss waxed, visiting a sex shop was hardly going to be a big deal.
When we walked into the shop, a heavily pierced and tattooed young woman with green hair greeted us and told us to ask away if we needed any help with anything.
After a very giggly quarter of an hour browsing through the sexy clothing, bondage gear and various other stuff, we arrived at the sex toy section. There were loads to choose from, and I was certainly interested, thinking about the dozens of lonely hotel nights I’d suffered recently. At least an effective toy would put a smile on my face and hopefully, keep frustration at bay.
Some of the fake penises were eye-wateringly huge. I certainly didn’t need anything like that. I just wanted a nice one that would fill me and do lots of lovely buzzy things. I picked up a pink one which was designed to squirm around; Gemma chose a slightly bigger one with an up and down action. She also went back to the clothing section and bought a cat mask with eye holes. I thought it better not to ask…
When we got to the till, the salesgirl mentioned that they had an offer of an accessory vibrator for half price. She showed us one… it was a slim, rounded tube about 2″ long, with a wire leading to a battery pack with a control wheel. When she switched on the demo one and let us hold it, we looked at each other and immediately said we’d take one each.
The girl was just about to total up our purchases, when she said, “Batteries?”
We both looked at each other, laughed and said we’d better take a large pack, for good measure. The girl was about to pack all the stuff into a carrier, when I suddenly had a thought.
“Excuse me, but would it be possible to take these out of the packaging and for you to dispose of it please? It’s just that we’re staying in a hotel, and it would be a bit embarrassing to leave it all in the bin in the room!”