Evelyn and Judy were best friends, housewives who had met at the local gym. Evey’s slim, fit body contrasted with Judy’s round curves but Judy never felt the slightest bit of condescension or criticism from her friend, or vice-versa. When they discovered they lived three houses down from each other they became nearly bosom buddies, carpooling to the gym, the grocery story and the salon together. So it was inevitable that, when Evey got a gift certificate from her husband for the new clothing boutique in town, she invited Judy along.
“Oh, I’m so excited. I was thinking of asking you if you’d want to go with me next Tuesday, after our salon appointment,” Judy said as she slipped into the passenger seat of Evelyn’s powder blue Saab. “I want to change from the reddish-brown I usually get to something with more fire. Thought I might want some new clothes to go with the new hair color.”
“Well, you can see what your choices are today,” Evey said, half-turned in her seat to look behind the car as she backed down Judy’s driveway, “and then we’ll go back on Tuesday and see if anything you liked matches the new color.”
“Are you thinking of getting anything in particular?” Judy asked.
“I’m not sure what the boutique carries,” Evey answered, “I only saw retro stuff in the window. Not sure I want to come home looking like June Cleaver. I’m already identifiably a housewife without the costume.”
Judy laughed and said, “I’m not ready to look like a respectable housewife.”
“No one’s going to mistake you for being respectable,” Evey teased, “You still wear Hello Kitty t-shirts and Doc Martins.”
“Well, you’ve got the Uggs and vest look down pat,” Judy said, “I can’t imagine you wearing a dress and stockings and heels while you vacuum the living room.”
“Nor can I,” Evey replied, “How do you like Amy, your housekeeper? I’m thinking of hiring one, myself, now that demand for my ceramics has picked up.”
“Amy’s fantastic. She just mentioned yesterday that a client dropped her because they’re moving back East, so now’s the perfect time to contact her. Help me remember, I’ll text you her phone number.”
“Sweet, thanks. I’m getting busier than I thought I would since I had the opportunity to quit my job.”
“Well, it’s not like you quit yesterday. You’ve been focused on ceramics for, what, five years now? You’re just starting to see the payoff. But please tell me you’re not too busy to go to the chess club meeting tonight,” Judy said, a tiny note of worry in her voice.
“Of course I’m still going! I’m glad you found out about it and invited me. I’m tired of getting my ass whipped by you every single time; I’m ready to get my ass whipped by some punk teenager with zits now.”
“Oh, come on, Evey, you’re not that bad.”
“Maybe not, But you’re that good. Zit-faced teen chess geeks, beware!”
Judy laughed as Evey swung the car into the strip-mall’s parking lot. The purple and pink sign for Paul’s Boutique swung gently over the store’s entrance.
“So watcha watcha watcha want?” Judy rapped.
“What?”
“Paul’s Boutique—maybe it’s a reference to the Beastie Boys.”
“Oh,” Evey said, parking and opening her door, “I hope they aren’t playing rap music in the store.”
“It’s alright,” Judy said, once she was out of the car, too, and they were walking to the store’s door, “I know you’re more of a classical music sort of person.”
“Just about the one thing we don’t have in common,” Evey said, looking beyond her friend to scan the shop windows.
The retro 1950’s dresses in the windows were cute, in their way, fresh-looking and feminine. Short-heeled pumps rested on the deep window sill in front of the mannequins, next to matching hand purses.
“It all looks so. . .” Evey paused, trying to think of the right word.
“Like costuming?” Judy asked.
“Yes, like that or, I don’t know, Disney; someone’s fantasy of what women ought to wear.”
“Well let’s check it out anyway. Maybe you’ll find a retro hat or something that suits your personality.”
The door chimed gently; some little tune that seemed to go on for a while. Whether it was the chime or the abrupt change in lighting—the boutique’s interior was quite a bit darker than the bright daylight outside—Evelyn felt a little headache starting up high, at the front of her head.
“Welcome, ladies,” said a tall, well-dressed woman from behind the counter. Judy had to bite her lip to keep from calling her Mrs Cleaver. Her short hair was swept up in large, tidy waves and she wore a single strand of white pearls at the base of her throat, framed by the sharp, winged collar of her powder pink dress.
“Hi,” Evey said, stepping forward, “Mind if we have a look around?”
“Not at all,” said the woman, “I’m Lark, just call me if you need any assistance.”
“Thank you, Lark,” Evey said and, looking about her, opted to start at the dresses to her left.
“Is this a consignment shop?” Judy asked Lark as she followed after her friend.
“No, everything here is brand new. I know some of it probably looks old-fashioned,” Lark gave a small, self-conscious laugh, “But we think the style will be very popular with some of the city’s demographics.”
“The housewife demographic?” Evey said under her breath, but Lark appeared not to have heard. Rather, she had sat herself down on a stool behind the counter and was looking at an iPad.
Evey shuffled through the rack and pulled out another 1950’s-style dress. This one was blue with tiny white polka dots and a white underskirt that made a bit of a flounce.
“They are pretty cute,” Evey admitted aloud. She found a pale green dress and held it out to Judy, saying, “I bet this would look lovely with your red hair and black Doc’s.”
Judy grinned and took the hanger, with the dress on it, from her friend.
“I’m going to try it on,” she said, “But only if you try this on.” She indicated a lurid-patterned dress hanging on another rack.
Evey arched an eyebrow before saying, “I’ll take your challenge, if it’s the right size.”
“Everything can be fitted to your exact size,” Lark said, not looking up from the iPad.
“Okay, thanks for letting us know,” Judy said. She looked back at her friend and raised her eyebrows in a way that said, Our hostess might be a freak. Evey nodded back with her own, wise look, then checked the tag on the crazy-colored dress. It was in her size but too expensive to buy as a joke.
“You’re on,” Evey said, taking the dress off the rack. She looked up and saw the changing rooms across the way, just two, side by side, built of painted plywood and 4×4’s.
“You’ll love that dress on you,” Lark said, looking at Evey as she crossed the shop to the changing rooms. Evey merely smiled crookedly at Judy, who followed behind. They each stepped into their own changing room. The oddly soothing music was a little louder in there. Evey looked up and saw a small speaker mounted at the top of the partition that divided her room from Judy’s.
It sounds classical, Evey thought to herself, but I don’t recognize it.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
Wow, I’m sexy, she thought, biting her lower lip as she unzipped her black vest. When she shrugged it off her breasts jiggled under her black turtleneck. She watched them bounce and realized that she shouldn’t wear vests that hid the swell of her breasts. She should definitely wear clothing that accented them; they were lovely, feminine.
Evey cupped her breasts and pushed them together just the slightest bit. The feeling was delightful, eliciting a small gasp.
What’s gotten into me? she wondered. She did not considered herself much of a clothes-horse; shopping for clothing never turned her on.
She heard a gasp from the other side of the divider. She imagined Judy looking at herself in the same way. The music changed to something new, a little wilder, and Evey looked at the dress she’d brought into the changing room.
It wasn’t a spaghetti strap but it didn’t have sleeves, either. It sort of reminded her of the iconic dress Marilyn Monroe wore in “The Seven Year Itch,” only the top didn’t tie behind the neck but descended in a steep vee, both in front and in back, into a tight waist. The skirt flared out from there, a mass of bright fabric, the whole thing printed in a cacophony of swirling and overlapping paisleys. It was something she imagined might have been fashionable in the early 60’s.
It wasn’t until there was a pause between songs that Evey realized she’d just been standing there, topless and slack-mouthed, looking at the fabric of the dress. It was gorgeous. It made her feel sexy. She took off her black Uggs and stripped off her leggings, taking a moment to draw her fingers over her mons. When she finally tried on the dress she felt her clit spark. She adjusted her breasts in the folds of the fabric before daring to look at herself. She groaned at the sight of herself in that wonderful dress, feeling like an offering in a shroud of sex.
Evelyn couldn’t help it. She sat on the little cushioned stool and spread her legs wide, drawing up the fabric along the lengths of her thighs, shifting her hips and curving her spine so she could see her undies in the mirror.
Oh, she thought, those old things have to go. I need a garter belt and stockings. The turquoise pumps and matching purse I saw in the window. . .
Her hands seemed to have removed her black cotton panties all on their own. They were traveling all over the insides of her thighs, making her shiver with their light touch. Finally her thoughts caught up to what her hands were doing and she watched, fascinated, as her fingers teased one set of swollen lips apart, then the next, then sank into her wet pussy. She gave a little grunting moan and heard Judy moan at nearly the same moment.
“Judy?” she whispered.
“Yeah?” Judy whispered back.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but it’s making me very happy.”
Evey found her friend’s sentiment to be very wise and decided to enjoy finger-fucking herself. It was a pleasure on top of pleasure to watch herself masturbate in that fantastic outfit.
There is no way in Hell I’m leaving without buying this dress, she thought.
She used her other hand to quickly and gently rub her clit, bringing herself to the edge of orgasm.
She lost track of time again, riding along that edge, unable to surface until the music stopped and there was a moment of silence before the next song. Evey gasped, caught her breath before cleaning her fingers with her mouth. She didn’t want to stain the perfect dress before she bought the rest of her outfit and wore it home. She wished she could cum but it looked like it just wasn’t going to happen.
When the next song started Judy came out of her dressing room at about the same time Evelyn did, both of them flushed, with a slight sheen, both still wearing the dresses. They could barely meet each other’s eyes.
“Shoes?” murmured Judy. Evey nodded.
“Would you like some help picking out foundation garments for your outfits?” Lark asked.
“Y-yes, please,” they managed to croak out. Lark disappeared in the back while Evey looked for the turquoise shoes and purse in the front window. Judy found a pair of cream satin pumps that matched the piping on her dress.
“Did you—” Evey whispered, coming up to her friend as she sat to try on the shoes.
“No. But damned if I didn’t want to,” Judy whispered back.
“Have you—”
“Never!” Judy insisted.
“Me, neither,” Evey said. She looked worried, bit her lip. “I just wonder—”
“Yeah, something’s definitely not right. I’m just buying the outfit and going straight home.”
Evey felt relieved when she heard Judy say that.
“Me, too,” Evey said and bent down to kiss her friend on the cheek, “If something fucked up happens, at least I’ve got you with me.”
“Damned straight,” Judy said, grinning up at her friend.
“Here you are, ladies,” Lark sang out as she came out of a back room with a stack of shallow boxes. “I found a few cream-colored stockings in different patterns for you,” she said, handing part of the stack to Judy, “And opaque tights of any color would be too much for your dress,” she said to Evey, handing her the rest of the stack, “so I went for nude. Oh,” she continued, looking at the shoes and purse, “turquoise was a good choice!”
Evelyn felt an overwhelming gratitude and fondness for the woman. “Thank you for finding these for us,” she said, almost shyly.
“I’m here to help,” Lark said, a warm smile on her lips.
“I—I think we’ll just purchase these, then be on our way,” Evey said.
A new song came on in the store, this time louder and more oppressive. Evey felt that ache at the front of her skull grow larger, heavier.
“Are you alright?” Lark asked as Evey put her hand to her forehead.
“I—I need to sit,” Evelyn said. She was vaguely aware that Judy, too, looked suddenly ill.
Lark gently guided them with her hands at the small of their backs to the chairs by the shoe area.
“Sit,” she said kindly, “I’ll turn down the music. It’s obviously too much for you ladies right now.”
She disappeared but the music didn’t grow quieter, if anything, it became louder. Judy reached for Evey’s hand and they held on to each other until the song was over.
“I think I would have preferred rap,” Evey said weakly in that moment of silence and Judy replied with a small huff of silent laughter.
“Don’t be funny,” she whispered back, “my head will explode if I laugh.”
Lark came up to them then, the purple ribbon handles of one large pink paper shopping bag in each hand.
“Ladies, I took the opportunity to package your purchases for you,” she said, setting the bags at their feet, “I’ll need your gift certificate in order to figure the total bill.”
Evelyn vaguely wondered if she’d mentioned the gift certificate to Lark. Her headache was receding but it was replaced with a steadily growing sexual need. She just wanted to go home and masturbate to her favorite gay porn. She dug the certificate and a credit card out of her purse.
“I’ll pay for my friend’s purchases, as well,” she said. She felt Judy’s grip on her hand tighten in a quick thank-you.
“I don’t think I could have said anything polite,” Judy whispered once Lark was out of range of hearing, “I am. So. Fucking. Horny.”
“Me too!” Evelyn whispered back fiercely. She was struggling to keep from touching herself with her free hand. Instead, it was clenched in a tight fist next to her thigh, pushing into the cushion of the chair.
It seemed like forever until Lark returned and handed Evelyn’s card back. “I’m afraid your card’s been declined.”
“That can’t be right,” she said, looking up at Lark.
“I tried the card three or four times,” she replied, a serious expression on her face.
“Try my card,” Judy said, unzipping her purse.
“Don’t worry, ladies,” Lark said, “I took the liberty of calling your husband. He said he’d pick up your friend’s husband and they’d both come straight away. They should be here shortly.”
At the mention of their husbands, both Judy and Evelyn gasped, their skin virtually sang with need. They were so completely focused on the idea of seeing their men again that they couldn’t think straight. Evelyn felt only the vaguest concern that the sudden uptick in desire would stain her dress.
“Oh, uh,” Evey said, “Okay.” Judy managed a tiny whimper.
“Perhaps you’d like help donning the rest of your outfits so you can show them when they arrive,” Lark suggested.
“Yes, please,” Judy squeaked.
Each woman took a turn raising the skirts of her dress so that Lark could help them with their garter belts. Neither of them gave a thought to the fact that they were exposed to anyone who might happen into the boutique.
Evelyn felt her pussy become even further engorged from the simple act of drawing the new hosiery up her legs and clipping the tops to her new garter belt. She couldn’t think of much else other than the idea that her husband would arrive soon. Maybe I can convince Steve to “try on” a blowjob in the changing room, she thought to herself as she stepped into her new shoes.
“I’m glad the two of you aren’t wearing underwear,” Lark said as she hooked the last few eyes on Judy’s garter belt, “I had taken the liberty of picking out a pair for each of you as a sort of ‘thank you’ for shopping here today.” She drew a small box out of Judy’s shopping bag and opened it to reveal silk undies that matched the dress perfectly. When Judy plucked it out of the box by a corner, the fabric unfolded to reveal a small bulge in the crotch. Judy looked more closely and found a small bullet vibe tucked into the cotton gusset.
“Uh,” Judy began, but Lark interrupted her.
“Undies go over the garter belt, dear,” she said, and, taking the underwear from her, she held them at the proper angle to allow Judy to step into them. Evelyn reached into her own bag to find her own pair of undies and was delighted to find that hers, too, had a bullet vibe in it. She stepped out of her shoes again to pull the undies up over her stockings and garter belt. Easier access for Steve, she thought, just as Judy said the same thing aloud about her husband. Evey and Judy giggled as they glanced at each other. Their headaches were completely gone and all they felt was a deep, sexual yearning for their husbands.
“How do we turn them on?” Judy asked.
“What, the undies?” Lark asked. Judy and Evey nodded, still giggling. “You don’t turn them on. The remote fobs will be given to your husbands.”
“Oh,” Evey said, “Well, I hope he gets here soon!”
“Oh my God,” Judy said, “so do I! If Adam doesn’t get here soon I’m just going to make you go down on me.”
Evelyn blinked at her friend then smiled lustily at her. “You know I’m always willing to help you out, Judy,” she said.
Judy leaned toward Evey but Lark stepped between them. “Sorry, ladies,” Lark said, “men first, alright?”
Judy and Evelyn drew apart and blushed just the littlest bit, like chastised little girls. “Alright,” they said.
Some movement beyond the storefront windows caught Judy’s eyes. “Oh! It’s Adam’s car! Oh my God!” She took a step toward the store’s doors but caught herself and looked at Lark. “Do we—should we wait here?”
“I made martinis. They’re on the glass display case by the register,” Lark said. Before she was even done speaking, Evelyn and Judy were rushing toward the drinks. “Carefully carry them to the store entrance,” she called after them, then, to herself, “Darn, I forgot about the white gloves. Master’s going to flog me for that.” She sighed and stepped toward the door, herself, as two middle-aged men in suits entered.
“Mr Adam Delaney and Mr Steve Laurence, I believe,” Lark said.
“Oh, it sure is,” Evelyn breathed. Seeing her husband was enough to make her pussy ache more than it ever had. Judy was struck dumb by the sight of her own husband. It was as if the rest of the world had disappeared.
“Welcome to Paul’s Boutique,” Lark said, shaking the men’s hands. “Ladies, I’m sure your husbands would like their drinks now.”
Virtually simultaneously, Evelyn and Judy stepped forward, each to their respective husband, and held out the glass each one was holding.
When Steve took the martini glass and smiled at Evelyn, she couldn’t help but drop to her knees in a kind of helpless swoon. He smiled at me! She thought to herself, looking up into his delighted face. When he placed his hand gently atop her head she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his leg, helpless in the wake of a small orgasm and the simple pleasure of his touch.
“Thank you, Judy,” Adam said as he took his glass from her.
“Oh, darling,” Judy whispered, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, “I love you so much.”
Lark cleared her throat. “I’m afraid the gift certificate didn’t cover the entire cost of the ladies’ spending spree,” she said, not sounding at all apologetic.
“Not surprising,” Steve said, “considering it was only intended for Evelyn.”
“Oh!” Lark looked surprised and turned to Adam, “I do hope you’re not, um, I mean—”
“No, no,” Adam laughed. Judy, watching him intently, smiled and gave a little giggle, too. “No, I had intended to get Judy a gift certificate next week. She usually likes to go shopping after her hair appointment. But I’m perfectly happy to have had this happen a little earlier.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a slim wallet, opened it to shuffle out a credit card. “Here,” He said, handing it to Lark, “I’ll cover whatever the balance is.”
Lark smiled at Adam and took his card with her to the other side of the countertop.
“The only thing missing are the gloves,” Lark said, “Shall I get a pair for each of the ladies?”
“Yes, please,” Steve said. His fingers combed their way through Evelyn’s hair, who was too blissed out to pay attention to the conversation.
The men sipped their martinis and grinned at each other while Lark disappeared in the back room to search for gloves.
“I told you this place was crazy,” Steve said.
“I honestly didn’t think it would work so well,” Adam said, looking at his wife. Judy continued to stare at him with all the focus of a puppy dog. “Are you looking forward to coming home?” he asked her.
“Oh,” she said, blushing furiously, “Oh, yes I am. I am going to make you the most delicious dinner, my darling. And then, if you let me, I’m going to suck your cock while you eat dinner. I want you to come in my mouth so I can eat it all up for dessert.”
“Oh my God,” Adam said, staring at Judy for a moment before turning to look at Steve. “Did you hear that?!”
Steve nodded and took another sip of his martini before replying. “The only problem is they have to come back here once a month to reinforce their conditioning. That’s going to add up, especially since they have to buy something every time in order to make it look legit. But damned if it isn’t worth it,” he said, looking down at Evelyn, who appeared to be in her own little world.
“Evey,” he said. She opened her eyes and tilted her head back to look up at him. “Evey, how do you feel?”
“Oh, Steve, I feel wonderful. I just want to do whatever you want me to do, lover.” She wanted to invite him into the changing room, or to just invite him to fuck her then and there, but she felt it would be rude and unfeminine to express an opinion without first being asked, so she simply tried to make herself look as inviting as possible, the skirt of the dress flounced around her like a fluffy, psychedelic pool, the plunging neckline leaving little to Steve’s imagination.
“Here we are,” Lark said, carrying a little box under one arm while opening another. “Here,” she said to Judy, taking out a pair of gloves and trying to hand them to Judy. Judy paid her no attention.
“Sweetheart,” Adam said, “the store clerk is trying to assist you.”
“Oh? Oh! Oh, thank you, Lark,” Judy said, finally focusing on something other than her husband. She allowed Lark to put her gloves on for her, watching distractedly as Lark did up the tiny little pearlescent buttons at the wrist of each glove.
“They’re lovely,” Judy said, holding them out for her husband to see. “Don’t you just love this outfit, my darling?”
“Yes, you look fantastic,” Adam said, “Do you like your outfit? It’s not what you usually wear.”
“Hmm?” Judy said, switching from admiring her shoes to admiring her husband. “Oh, no, I can’t imagine wearing anything any less feminine, unless you would like me to, of course. But those shoes and jeans and t-shirts simply must go, if that’s alright with you.”
“Well, maybe you’d like to save a few old items to wear when you clean the house,” Adam suggested.
“Why? Has Amy quit?”
“I’m afraid,” said Adam, “that we’ve no more budget for a house maid. Besides,” he continued, noticing his wife’s slight frown, “I know how much cleaning turns you on. Especially since it makes me so happy to know that you care about the house I’m providing for you.”
Judy’s frown became an ecstatic grin. “Oh, you know I do! Why, I’ve no idea why we had Amy cleaning for us in the first place!”
“That’s my girl,” said Adam, handing her his empty martini glass, “Now why don’t you take this back to the clerk for me.”
“Of course, darling!” Judy said, taking the proffered glass. She turned and walked toward the glass counter, making sure to sashay.
“Holy fuck,” Adam said in a low voice as he watched the green skirt of the dress sway invitingly.
Steve chuckled, his fingers still tangled in Evelyn’s hair, “Worth every penny, I think.”
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