Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Last Straw

When I arrived at the bar that Saturday night, I was feeling pretty good.  I just had a good day date with Brian, and I was on my way home, when I got a text message from Samantha, telling me to meet her.  I was expecting to go straight home and relax in the tub for the evening, but I shrugged off those plans and walked into the bar at about seven.

I was wearing a cute white skirt and a Yankees t-shirt that I had borrowed from Samantha’s closet.  I usually only buy feminine clothes, like skirts, cute tops, and things that are pink or frilly, so mixing in Samantha’s clothes make for some very cute outfits that are only slightly tomboyish.  She’s an out lesbian, and makes no efforts to look feminine, but we still share a body type, so I can easily slip into anything she wears.

She was seated at a booth, and waved me over.  “Hi Sam, I was just about to head home.  What’s the occasion?”

She just smiled and shrugged saying, “Well, I wanted to get you liquored up and have my way with you.”  She giggled and pushed a cosmopolitan my way.  Of course, she always respected my straight girl boundaries, but she would also tease me about how much I was missing.  “No reason,” she continued, “it’s just I have a small get-together planned tomorrow, people from work, and so I wanted to get you in a good mood before I asked to dominate the apartment.”

I took the drink and smiled.  “Oh thanks, yeah, that should be fine.  Theater folk?”  She worked as the lighting director at a theater in downtown, and kept some pretty crazy hours.  It was rare that she ever actually hosted a party, but it seems she was always coming in or going to one.

“Yup,” she said.  “They’re really nice people, you don’t have anything to do, do you?”

I shook my head.  “No, my Sunday is pretty open.”  The cosmo before me was soon gone, and I ordered another.  “That’s a cute top,” Samantha remarked.  “I used to have one just like it!”

Samantha always teased me about being a clothes thief, as her t-shirts would always seem to find their way to me.  I come from a family with four older sisters, and so for me, it was almost an automatic reflex.  Sometimes, I would be at work, look down, and only then realize that I had been wearing something from Sam’s closet.

“Oh, this old thing?” I played along.  “Sorry, but you have some really cute tops, and you’re never around to ask.  You’re welcome to take anything of mine, anytime you want,” I offered.  Between the two of us, we knew that this was mostly an empty gesture.  Unless Samantha was about to drastically alter her personality, she wouldn’t be caught dead in anything in my wardrobe.

Samantha took a sip of her drink and only said, “Maybe I will!”

The night wore on, and Samantha and I left the bar fairly buzzed, with a couple of phone numbers that we did not start the night with.  A fairly drunk man even gave Samantha his number, which she took to avoid an argument in which nobody would win.  We left the bar holding each other up, thankful that our apartment was just around the corner and a few flights up.

Once we entered the door, Samantha drunkenly started pawing at me a bit.  “Take this off, it’s MINE!” she yelled.  Not angrily yelling, but yelling in that way that drunk people think is their normal tone of voice.  

“Fine,” I sighed, and slipped the shirt over my head.  She then stared at my bra, and licked her lips.  “Damn,” she said, “you have nice titties.”  She then laughed hysterically at herself.  Even though I knew she was drunk, and I was feeling very tipsy and warm myself, I took the compliment and sauntered back to my room.

In my drunk state I got the order of events mixed up, and before I opened the door to my room, I unsnapped my bra, and slipped off my shoes.  I then grabbed my skirt and panties in one quick motion, which left me standing naked in the hallway.  I looked over to see Samantha, standing in the hallway, her mouth hanging open as she looked at my nude body.  “What are you doing in my room?”  I yelled.

“Umm, you’re in the hallway,” she corrected and laughed again.

“Oh,” I said, looking around, calming myself a bit.  “Well, I’m off to bed, good night!”  I opened the door and walked through, collapsing on the queen sized bed and immediately drifting to sleep.

I woke up naked and sprawled across my bed, looking for my cell phone, which is also my alarm clock.  I was able to piece together the events of the evening, and remembered that Samantha had said something about a party and a time.  My memory then flashed briefly on stripping naked in front of Samantha, and I shook off the embarrassment.  For some reason, a t-shirt and black miniskirt was also on my bed, hanging over my headboard.  I didn’t know why this was, but I also had no time to investigate the mystery.  The party was set to start in an hour, and I had to be presentable.  

I opened the door to my room and looked around to make sure the coast was clear.  My robe had gone missing from the usual hook on my bedroom door, and so I decided to make a mad dash from my room to the towel closet, to the bathroom.  Although the whole trip was just about ten feet, the thrill reminded me of streaking in college.  I made it to the bathroom, towel in hand, and I thought I was safe.

I showered, and did my morning thing in the bathroom mirror, keeping mental track of the time.  I gingerly walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped snugly around me.  As I walked I noticed that Samantha, armed with a laundry basket was shadowing behind me, even as I was opening my bedroom door to get dressed.

I turned quizzically at her and asked, “Why are you following me?”

She smiled. “Laundry, I want to get the towels done before the party, and you’re wearing one.”

“Oh,” I said, “I’ll hand it to you after I’m in.”  I slipped in through the door, and dashed around it.  Slipping the towel off, I held it in front of the open door so Samantha could grab it, while preserving my modesty.

I turned around and slid open the door to my closet, which almost caused me to faint.  Everything was gone!  

I stood naked before my bare closet, and in total shock.  There was a note hanging by tape on the side of the door.  I trembled as I ripped it off, and read it.

Dear Jenny,

I took you up on your offer and helped myself to a few things. It really irks me when you take my clothes without asking, and a lot of times I’ve found myself being forced to wear something I didn’t want to wear because you used my closet like your free personal shopping mall.  On your bed, you’ll find what you’ll wear today, and I do hope you’ll join the party quickly.  Your wardrobe is in my car, and it would be quite easy for me to drive to the thrift shop to drop off a hefty donation.


I seethed with anger, as I looked at what Samantha expected me to wear.  I looked through all my drawers and didn’t find anything else, not one bra or pair of panties.  All that was on the bed was a very short black mini-skirt, which I almost never wore because it was so short and showed off a lot more of my thigh than I like, and a midriff top which I hadn’t worn since freshman year of college.  

I dressed and looked at myself in the mirror.  I guessed I was to be barefoot today, and look like I had just came back from an all night party.

I dashed down the hall to find that most of the party had arrived, and Samantha greeted me, with a shocked look on her face.  She looked over me, as if she was just realizing something had happened, which I thought was a little surprising since she had orchestrated the whole damn thing.  She gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, “Please don’t get mad, I can explain.” She then disappeared to greet more people that had just come in through the door.

I tried to mingle as best I could in what I was wearing, but I felt a tad under-dressed.  While being barefoot, which I could pass off since it was my apartment, my attire was certainly the most revealing outfit of all.  Everyone had fairly conservative and cute Sunday dresses on, and I looked as if I had just come from a rave.
I cornered Samantha in the kitchen, who was also dressed in her normal casual clothes, and she looked at me with sympathy in her eyes.  “I’m so sorry!” she whispered.  “I was drunk and more functional than you, so I guess I stole your clothes last night.  I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize it until I saw you.  Let me go get you some clothes.”

I sighed, “No, no, don’t do that, it’ll draw even more attention to me.  But you owe me big for this!”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she whispered.  “Actually there’s one more thing.”

My heart sunk as she said that.  I couldn’t imagine what was in store, but it looked big.  “What’s that?”

“Well, my bosses think you and I are, um, more than roommates?”

“Oh my God!” I whispered as loudly as I could.  “They think I’m gay for you?”

“Well, it’s not like we have to have sex in front of them!” she scolded.  “Just don’t talk about boys, and play along, ok?”

I sighed, resigned, and agreed to be her girlfriend for the afternoon.  “You know, you didn’t leave me anything to wear underneath this, no bra or panties!”

“I know,” she smiled, biting her lip.

The rest of the party went on without a hitch, and although I was padding around barefoot, and my clothes were a bit more drafty than normal, I survived.  Every move I made, however was greeted by a rub against my skin, or a sensation that I didn’t know my clothes could make on me.  This had been the longest I’d really gone in public without a bra, and I hoped that I wasn’t showing too much through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

The guests then started to drop off, one-by-one, and I thought I was essentially in the clear.  Soon the night would be over and I could go back to wearing my real clothes.  The only guest left was Samantha’s boss, Heather, who I was reminded privately in the kitchen the person she was really aiming to impress.  I had been extra-friendly to her all evening, and Samantha made sure she always had a drink ready for her.

“I guess I better leave myself,” Heather announced, as the second to last guest left and closed the door.

“Oh, you can stay, we just need to clean up.” Samantha said, obviously drafting the services of me, her supposed girlfriend, into cleaning up after her party.  

Heather just smiled.  “Well, from what you’ve told me about Jenny, here, I am very tempted to stay.”  Samantha’s face dropped a bit, and my ears perked up.

“And what exactly is that?” I asked, curious as to the tales that Samantha was telling about me to her work.  Obviously, the lies about me were quite extensive, and she had built me up to Heather, her boss, as an ideal girlfriend for herself.

“Well,” Heather continued.  “Even if she hadn’t said anything before, it’s pretty obvious from just looking at you.  You’re a naturist, you don’t like wearing clothes.  Throughout the day I could see how uncomfortable you were in what you’re wearing, like you were always distracted.”  Heather could see what she was saying was eliciting a surprised expression from me, and thought it was her fault.  “Oh dear, it’s ok, I’m not judgemental, it’s really brave of you to accept who you are like that, and even braver to try to wear this getup today to try to fit in.  But you know, it’s not necessary now.”

Samantha froze, as Heather approached me, and grabbed hold of my shirt.  Instinctively, I put my arms down, shaking my head, my mind racing to come up with an excuse that would not shatter the well crafted lies we had told today, nor any other lies that Samantha may have told to Heather at some point in the past.  I came up empty and was thinking the only way around this was to play along.

“It’s ok, I’m in theater,” Heather said.  “I’ve seen naked women before, no need to be ashamed of who you are.  There’s too much of that as is.”  Heather said this with so much sincerity and kindness, I found my arms floating upwards, which she took advantage of.  She lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it on the couch.  “Now, the skirt?”  She unsnapped the clip that held it in place and I was privately mortified as it dropped to my feet.  “Ha, look at that, that’s all you had on today!  Do you even own a pair of panties?”  Of course, I had to maintain my facial expression and act as if everything was normal as I was stripped bare.

“I can see why you don’t have parties more often, Sam,” Heather said.  “This is so scrumptious!”  She looked at me up and down, and even patted a hand down my side and hip, like she was petting an exotic pet.  That sent a thrill through me, but I quickly excused myself and hopped to the kitchen to talk with Samantha.

Samantha smiled at me broadly, as I walked in stark naked.  Of course, being roommates for so long, we had seen each other before, but only brief glimpses.  Here, she was getting all she could ever want.  “Oh my God, she actually did it?”  she whispered.

“What do we do now?” I pleaded.

“I don’t know, this isn’t exactly normal!”

Our whispers caused Heather to pop-in to the kitchen.  “Everything ok, I hope I didn’t intrude too much, it’s just she looked so uncomfortable, and now she seems so at ease.”

A flash of genius and revenge flashed through my mind and I turned around.  “Yes, thank you.” I said.  “But the thing is that I’m a little uncomfortable because usually it’s either I’m alone and naked or Sam is also...”

“Oh,” Heather said, smiling broadly, “say no more!”  Heather then proceeded, right in the middle of the kitchen, to untie the knot which kept her own dress together and her top dropped down, exposing her bra.  She shimmied her dress down and off and reached back to undo her bra.

“I actually stay at a clothing optional resort every August, it’s so relaxing!”  I glared at Samantha, not believing myself how well my plan was working. Samantha’s eyes widened as she saw her boss start to take everything off, and was powerless to stop.

“C’mon Sam,” I egged her on.  “Your turn.”   I took the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tugged at it, pulling it up and over her head.  Her bra came into view, and I tossed her shirt off to the side.  Turning to Heather, who was fidgeting with her bra, “Sam just loves it when I’m the one to get her naked!”

Heather was collecting her clothes as I was wrangling Sam’s off of her body.  Her eyes were protesting, but she knew that the only person that she had to blame for all this was herself.  Heather returned to the kitchen completely nude to find a topless Sam, and me playing with the fly of her jeans to get them off.  Heather’s body was very tight, and it was obvious she went to the gym often.  Her face was that of a forty year old, but her body was easily ten years younger.

“Tell, you what,” Heather offered, “Let me finish up here, while you two spend some time on the couch, I insist.”  I took Samantha’s stunned hand and lead her to the living room, while Heather occupied herself with some naked housework.

When we were a sufficient distance away, and plopped ourselves on the couch, Samantha looked at me seriously.  “Well, now you’ve done it!”

“What?”  I asked.  “We got her to do the dishes.”

“Yes, for some alone time on the couch.”  Samantha raised her butt and peeled her jeans off her legs. Then came her panties, and she was nude before me.  “Which means, she needs to come back here to see us cuddling a bit, naked.”  She pushed me down, and took the spot behind me, spooning me from behind.  I could feel the heat of Samantha’s pussy on the small of my back, and I realized at that moment that this was probably very uncomfortable for her as well.  She had painted herself as far more liberated as she was comfortable with, and I had just ratcheted the passion up a notch, without her consent.  She was also being forced into a position with me, that she knew would not last once Heather left, which would leave her quite unsatisfied.

Samantha held me at the stomach, directly halfway between my pussy and breasts.  “What’s funny,” Samantha said, “is that Heather isn’t gay or even bisexual.  Just a lonely housewife, I gather.”  I took Samantha’s hands and pushed them down lower, and she gasped a little.

“Jenny, you don’t have to,” she said, hesitating to touch me.  “We don’t have to prove anything to her.”

I nodded and pushed further, “But I want you to prove it to me.”  She cupped my pussy and played with my outer lips as I moaned.  She kissed me on my neck and started handling my breasts, as I felt her own at my back.

“Are you sure?” she asked.  “I really don’t want to pressure you into something...”

“I can make my own decisions,” I said, “and tonight, I’m in your bed.”  I turned onto my side, to face Samantha, and our lips finally interlocked.  She pulled my body close, my leg slipped between hers, and I could feel her wetness streak across my thigh.  She devoured my lips forcefully, and I wrapped my arms around her, making her mine.  Our breasts touched, and I could feel her heart, beating quickly in her chest against my own.  Her hands traced a path south to grab my butt, when we were interrupted by Heather.

“Oh my,” she said, slightly embarrassed.  “I guess you two want to be alone.”

Samantha asked, “Actually, Heather, do you really want to watch?”  Heather’s eyes widened and she sat in a chair, anxiously awaiting for us to begin.  Samantha shook her head, stood up and took my hand in hers and helped me up.  “Come on, let’s make love Jenny.”

We stood and walked together hand-in-hand toward the bed, with curious Heather following closely behind.

No comments:

Post a Comment