Exposing Emily

by Arthur Saxon
meganeura@hotmail.com

DAY 1 – TUESDAY

It was three minutes to seven in the morning, and Emily Flynn’s alarm clock was going off. She had set it for seven, but she liked to keep the clock running a little fast, so that she would always have more time than she thought she did. This logic did not necessarily bear close scrutiny, but it worked for her. She extended a fumbling arm, and swatted it back to silence.

A sudden realisation brought her to full wakefulness in an instant, and she sat up. She was not in her own room. At least, this was not the room in which she had slept almost every night for her entire life up until now. This was, in fact, the spare bedroom in the house of Pastor Davis and his family, who had kindly agreed to put her up for a few weeks.

If only she could have lived with Nathan instead! But that was immoral and strictly forbidden, of course; she would have to wait until they were married. And they would not be able to get married until Nathan was earning enough money to support them both.

Emily sighed. Heaven knew when that would be! Nathan had been supposed to be in a steady job by now, but having been in the city for six weeks, he still had nothing to show for it. And six weeks was a long time for a young couple in love to be apart.

She got out of bed and walked over to her dresser, her long white nightdress swishing around her ankles. Looking in the mirror, she saw a young woman of just nineteen years, with long, wavy, reddish-brown hair and a pale-skinned face with a dusting of freckles. She had been called beautiful since childhood, but she did not fully believe it; everyone she grew up around was as kind as the day was long, and would call someone beautiful whether they were or not. She did like her eyes, though: green eyes with a hint of blue around the outer edge of the iris. Men (and women, in fairness) had always told her that she had pretty eyes, and she found it easier to believe that.

Pulling her nightdress up over her head, she shook it out and then draped it over the back of a chair. Looking again in the mirror, she grimaced at the sight of her breasts: big round blobby things – indecently big – with prominent puffy nipples residing in the middle of large round areolae. She had once, at Nathan’s urging, showed them to him; his almost ecstatic reaction had baffled and slightly alarmed her. She could not understand why men enjoyed the sight of such things. Having grown up in a farming community and seen plenty of cows being milked, she knew very well what her breasts were for, and regarded them with as much utilitarian dispassion as a cow’s udders.

Below her breasts, her waist was narrow, and her hips broad. She was happy enough with the former; less so with the latter. She did not like her bottom; it was too large and round – very unlike that of her friend Ruth, who was thin all over. Emily would have liked to be thin all over, with perky little breasts and a cute little bottom ... but she had unfortunately inherited her mother’s curvaceous physique.

A pair of large, high-waisted white panties clad her loins in a sturdy, concealing embrace. Below that, her legs were a little generous in the upper thigh, but tapered nicely below that, and her ankles were positively slender. Her feet, dainty for a woman of five foot eight, were well cared-for, since the women of her community valued comfortable footwear (which they made themselves) and had no use for shoes with thin heels and pointy toes.

Emily donned a large, comfortable bra, followed by one of her long dresses – the standard uniform of the women of her village. Fastening the buttons all the way up to the high neckline, she sat down in front of the mirror, and picked up her hairbrush. With great care and the ease born of practice, she brushed and then braided her hair. Then she got up, slipped her feet into her flat walking shoes, and left the room.

Stopping by the bathroom, she found it empty, so she stepped inside, locked the door, and used the toilet. Trotting downstairs afterwards, she entered the kitchen and smiled at Mary Davis, the pastor’s wife. “Good morning Mrs Davis,” she said.

“Good morning dear!” said Mary, smiling warmly at her. She reminded Emily of her aunt Dorothy – both were plump and cheerful women, with rosy cheeks and a kindly soul.

“Can I help?” Emily asked. She was used to working hard in the kitchen.

“No, no, I’ve got everything under control,” said Mary breezily.

While Emily waited, the Davises’ son, Paul, entered – he was sixteen years old, overweight, and afflicted with a bad case of acne. He grinned at Emily. “Good morning, Emily,” he said, scratching at his head through a tumble of greasy brown hair.

“Good morning Paul,” she replied politely.

“Good morning Emily!” said Pastor Davis cheerfully as he strode into the room. “And good morning Paul.”

“Good morning, Pastor Davis,” said Emily.

“Oh, please call me Jacob,” said the pastor. He was tall and stockily built, with a dark bushy beard. “No need to be formal here. I know you’re used to a great deal of formality in your community in Oakwood, but you’ll find things are quite different here in the city.”

Emily nodded. “Yes, I’m sure there’s a lot I’ll have to learn.”

“Yeah, like the fact that we no longer dress like it’s the nineteenth century,” said Paul with a smirk.

Emily blushed, and Mary tutted as she put a plate in front of her guest. “Paul, don’t be rude,” she said. “Emily can’t help her upbringing. And the Lord knows we need some of those nineteenth century values in this town.”

“Quite right,” agreed Jacob. “Jonesburgh is, I’m afraid, a sordid place in great need of God’s Word. This side of it – the West Side – isn’t too bad, but try to avoid the East Side, Emily, and certainly avoid it at night. An innocent young thing like you would be easy meat for the types of people who frequent those streets.”

“I’ll stay well clear of the East Side, then!” said Emily. Then she asked anxiously, “Nathan doesn’t live on the East Side, does he?”

“No no, dear,” Mary assured her, “he’s just a few blocks from here – a short walk.”

“Oh good,” said Emily in relief. “Then perhaps I’ll pay him a visit after my interview.”

“Ah yes, the coffee shop,” said Jacob. “Good luck with that. I’m glad we happened to go there last week, otherwise we’d never have spotted the Help Wanted sign.”

“Yes,” agreed Mary. “And when you see Nathan, Emily, why don’t you invite him here for dinner?”

“Yes indeed!” said Jacob. “Good idea. We’d love to see him again.”

“Okay!” said Emily. “Thank you – that sounds lovely.”

After breakfast, Emily brushed her teeth, then she put on her straw hat and headed downstairs again. “Would you like me to accompany you to the coffee shop, dear?” Mary asked.

“Yes please,” Emily said gratefully. “That would be most kind.”

She left the house with Mary, who pointed out some of the local landmarks as the two of them walked to the coffee shop. But it seemed like they had hardly gone any distance at all when Mary announced, “Here we are.”

“Oh!” said Emily, looking up at a sign that read ‘Cathcart Coffee’. “My, this is convenient, isn’t it? I do hope I get the job.”

“I’m sure you will, dear,” said Mary. “Would you like me to wait for you?”

“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Emily replied. “I can find my way to your house from here.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to visit Nathan next?” Mary asked her.

“Oh yes!” said Emily. “Could you maybe give me some directions...?”

“Of course, dear,” said Mary with a smile. “He’s on Lansdowne Street, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “1726 Lansdowne, he told me. Apartment 23.”

Mary nodded. “See that big flag, next to the second set of traffic lights? Just take a left there – that’s Lansdowne Street.”

“Thank you!” said Emily. “I can find my way from there.”

“Okay then.” Mary smiled. “Good luck with your interview!”

“Thank you,” said Emily again. She took a deep breath, then walked into the coffee shop.

The place looked clean and respectable. A uniformed waitress was cleaning a table; Emily was a little alarmed at how short the woman’s skirt was – its hem only came halfway down her thighs – but she supposed this must be normal for the city. How much she was going to have to get used to here!

She approached the counter, where a woman in her forties was regarding Emily with a raised eyebrow. “Um, hello,” said Emily timidly. “I’m here to interview for a job as a waitress...”

The woman stared at her. “You’re Emily, are you?” she inquired.

Emily nodded. “Yes.”

The woman snorted. “You look like a frightened little butterfly that just blew in from the countryside,” she said. “I don’t think we can use you, Honey, but it’s not up to me.” She turned, and called into the back of the shop, “Marv! Your interviewee’s here.”

A rather small middle-aged man appeared behind the counter – he had a nice friendly face, but he looked a little surprised as his eyes took in Emily’s outfit. “Hey there!” he said. “You’re Emily?”

“Yes,” said Emily, who was indeed starting to feel like a butterfly ... who had wandered into a bees’ nest.

“Well I’m Marv,” said the man. “And this is Trish. Come on through to the office.”

Regarded with a mixture of amusement and disapproval by Trish, Emily followed Marv into a room at the back of the shop. He gestured to a chair, and Emily sat down, smoothing her skirts over her lap.

Marv took a seat behind his desk, facing her. “Have you had any experience as a barista, Emily?” he inquired.

“A what?” asked Emily, disconcerted. “I’m sorry – I thought this was a waitressing job.”

“It’s similar,” said Marv. “Actually it’s most like a bartending job, except that instead of serving alcoholic beverages, you serve coffee and other hot drinks. Do you know how to use an espresso machine?”

Her cheeks turning red, Emily shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.” She could not help feeling that the interview was going really badly.

“Well, you can be taught how to use the machine,” said Marv generously. “So what experience HAVE you had?”

“Waitressing – at a restaurant,” said Emily. “I can take a lot of orders and keep them straight in my head.”

“Well that’s something, at least,” conceded Marv. “Fine, we’ll give you a shot. Employment is at will, so you can leave, or we can let you go, without notice and for any reason. You’ll work Tuesday through Saturday, eleven to three – sorry, all we can offer right now is a part-time position – and you’ll pick up your cheque on Tuesday morning, for the previous week. You’ll be wearing one of our uniforms ... will that be a problem?”

Emily gulped. “Um ... will it be as short as the one the girl out there was wearing...?”

Marv smirked a little ... but not unkindly. “Seems like you’re not used to people seeing your legs,” he said. “Is it some kind of religious commune you’ve come from? Like Amish or something?”

“Similar, but not quite as old-fashioned,” Emily replied. “We even have computers!” She laughed, then fell abruptly silent, feeling foolish.

Marv smiled. The thought of seeing this prudish young woman in a miniskirt was highly appealing ... but he felt obliged to mention that there was another option. “Okay,” he said, “well Cassidy chooses to wear a skirt, but you don’t have to; you can wear pants instead if you prefer.”

“Oh!” said Emily, taken aback. “Wear men’s clothes? I don’t think I could do that.”

Marv chuckled. “Here in the city, it’s not just men that wear pants,” he said. “But it’s up to you. Unfortunately I don’t have a spare uniform in your size, but our outfitter, Walker’s Workwear, is not far from here; I’ll give them a call and let them know you’re coming. Here, let me make you a map...” He quickly sketched a map showing the way to Walker’s. “The uniform remains the property of the shop, since we’re paying for it, but you’re welcome to take it home with you as long as you’re working here.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, taking the map. “Wow, I can’t believe I have a job already! Thank you so much, Marv.”

“You’re welcome,” he responded with a smile. “I’ll see you out.” He got to his feet, and accompanied her to the front entrance. “See you tomorrow!”

As Emily left the coffee shop, she felt excited but nervous. A real job in the city! She hoped she would do it well. Following Marv’s directions, she soon arrived at Walker’s Workwear. Inside, she spotted a young man hanging what looked like hospital scrubs on a rack near the back of the shop. Nervously, she approached him. “Excuse me?” she said.

The man turned around. He was in his mid-thirties, with slicked-down black hair, rectangular glasses, and a very weak chin. Like Marv, he looked a little surprised as his eyes took in Emily’s long white dress, but then he smiled. “Can I help you?” he asked, in a slightly nasal voice.

“Yes please,” said Emily. “I’m here for a barista uniform. I’m starting at Cathcart Coffee tomorrow...”

“Ah yes,” said the man. He looked her up and down, and smiled in a way that made Emily feel a little uneasy. “Well I think I can find something in your size.”

“Thank you,” said Emily.

“This way please,” he said, leading her towards a changing room. “My name’s Anthony. What’s yours?”

“Emily,” said Emily. “I’m pleased to meet you, Anthony.”

Anthony smiled, and licked his lips. Turning to face her, he said, “Take off your dress, please.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “In ... in there?” she asks, pointing at the changing room.

“No, out here,” said Anthony. “I assume you have underwear on? I’ll need to take your measurements; it’s a little hard to do it in the changing room. Bit of a tight squeeze for two of us.”

His tone was very matter-of-fact, and Emily gulped nervously. She had never stripped down to her underwear in front of a man before – except for the village doctor. And her mother had been present for that. The city was strange and scary; there were clearly a lot of things she would need to get used to if she was going to live here.

“But ... what if someone comes in?” she asked anxiously.

“It’s unlikely,” said Anthony. “But so what? You won’t be showing any more than you would at the beach...”

“You haven’t seen my swimsuit,” Emily muttered, thinking of the extensive coverage that it provided.

Anthony chuckled. “A one-piece, is it? Well look, if it’ll make you feel better, how about I lock the front door? I’ll put up the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign.”

“Thank you, yes please,” said Emily gratefully.

Anthony nodded, and headed to the front of the shop. As soon as she heard the click of the lock, Emily began unbuttoning her dress.

Anthony returned just in time to see her stepping out of it. “That’s quite the figure you’ve got there, Emily,” he remarked. “A dressmaker’s dream.”

Emily blushed in embarrassment as she tried to cover her bra and panties with her hands. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

“Hold your arms out to the sides, please,” said Anthony, walking around in front of her. He was holding a tape measure.

“I do know my measurements,” Emily ventured, timidly holding her arms out.

“Forgive me for not taking your word for them, though,” said Anthony with a chuckle. “There’s frequently a difference between what women say their measurements are, and what they actually are.” He got down on his knees and stared directly at the front of her panties while he threw the tape measure around her hips. “Thirty-eight,” he said. “Size eight then.” Still on his knees, he slid the tape measure up to her hips. “Twenty-five. Quite a ratio!”

He stood up, and regarded her bra-clad breasts thoughtfully. “That’s a seriously sturdy bra,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll get an accurate measurement with it in the way.”

“Um ... sorry,” said Emily nervously.

Anthony licked his lips, then said, “Could you take it off, please?”

Emily stared at him, aghast. Surely he did not expect her to show him her breasts! Did other women do that in clothing stores? Was there really such a lack of modesty in the city? “I ... I ... I’m sorry,” she said, “I really can’t do that!”

She seemed on the verge of panic, and Anthony realised he had pushed too far. “Never mind,” he said soothingly. “I can see you’re uncomfortable with that idea, so I’ll just take a guess, and find you a blouse I think will fit you.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. Then, as Anthony walked away, she quickly stepped into the changing room, and pulled the curtain across. She knew this was fairly pointless, since Anthony had seen her underwear already, but it made her feel better anyway.

“Emily?” said Anthony, from just on the other side of the curtain.

Emily squealed in alarm. “I’m sorry!” she said. “It’s just ... you startled me.”

“I apologise,” said Anthony. “I walk very quietly. I have your uniform here.” He pulled the curtain open six inches or so, and thrust a couple of hangers into the gap.

Emily quickly took the clothes. “Thank you,” she said.

“Come on out when you’re dressed,” said Anthony, and he closed the curtain again.

Emily put on the blouse first, followed by the skirt. The blouse was too small for her large chest; she could not even do up all the buttons. And the skirt, while she could just zip it up, was very tight around her bottom. And terribly short, too – it seemed even shorter than Cassidy’s! It did not even reach the middle of her thighs.

“I ... I think I’ll need the next size up, please,” she reported sheepishly.

“Really?” said Anthony. “Come on out and let me see.”

Emily had no desire to let Anthony see her like this, but then, he had already seen her in her underwear... “Okay,” she said reluctantly, and she pulled back the curtain and stepped out.

“Hmmm,” said Anthony, covering his mouth with his fist as he struggled to contain his laughter. “Yes, I see the problem with the top. The skirt’s fine though.”

“It’s very tight!” Emily pointed out anxiously. “And very short!”

“Yes but look at the waist,” said Anthony, stepping forward and tucking his fingers into the waistband. “That’s pretty loose. You wouldn’t want a larger size; it would be flapping away from you. Ideally it should be snug against the skin. Perhaps we should try a size smaller...”

“No, this will be fine,” said Emily quickly. A size smaller did not bear thinking about!

“Okay,” said Anthony. “I’ll fetch you a larger blouse. I guess I underestimated the size of your chest!” He grinned at her exposed cleavage.

Emily folded her arms across her chest in embarrassment, and said nothing as Anthony walked away. When he returned, he handed her another blouse. “Try this,” he instructed her.

Emily took it into the changing room, removed the blouse she was wearing, and put on the second one. This one she could fasten all the way up to the collar, but her breasts were pressing so hard against the buttons that her skin and bra could be seen through the gaping spaces between them.

She left the changing room. “I think I’ll need the next size up,” she apologised.

“Hmmm,” said Anthony thoughtfully, staring at the gaps between her buttons. “No, this will be fine. The next size up will be way too baggy around the waist. But why have you buttoned it up so high? Nobody does that. You should leave the top two ... no, three buttons undone.”

“Oh,” said Emily uncomfortably. Already feeling very exposed, she felt herself blushing as she undid the top button, and then the button below it. This revealed part of her upper chest, but none of her cleavage. One more button, though, would feel like too much.

“Isn’t two enough?” she asked desperately. She assumed Anthony knew what he was talking about, and she did want to fit in ... but she was already far outside her comfort zone, and feeling very exposed.

Anthony stepped forward, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Emily, you seem like a fish out of water here. Would I be right in thinking this is the first time you’ve worn an outfit like this?”

Emily hung her head, and nodded. She was rather uncomfortable about the placement of his hands, but she could tell he was only trying to be nice. “I’m from a very religious community,” she said. “I’m used to dressing very modestly. This is all a little ... new for me.”

“You’ll soon get used to it,” Anthony assured her. “In the meantime, baby steps – and sure, you can leave the third button done up.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. “I’m still worried about what’s showing between the buttons, though – I really think the next size up...”

“Nobody will see the gaps between your buttons once you have your apron on,” Anthony pointed out.

“Apron?” asked Emily in surprise. “Oh!” She now recalled that both Trish and Cassidy were indeed wearing black aprons as part of their uniforms. “Do you supply those too?”

“We do,” Anthony confirmed, “but Marv already has one for you. They’re pretty much one-size-fits-all, unlike the blouse and skirt.”

“Okay.” Emily nodded.

“All right!” said Anthony. “Then I guess we’re done. If I could just get you to sign a receipt for the uniform...”

“Oh, sure,” said Emily.

Once she had signed the receipt, and changed back into her dress, she said goodbye to Anthony, and left the shop. Thanks to Mary’s directions she knew the way to Nathan’s apartment, so she walked quickly to Lansdowne Street, trying to ignore the curious stares she attracted along the way. She was starting to wish that she were wearing something other than a long dress, which seemed very out of place here. But the thought of wearing shorter hemlines still unnerved her.

She arrived at Nathan’s apartment building, and found the door locked. On the wall by the door, however, was a panel with a series of numbered buttons, one of which was Nathan’s apartment: number 23. She pressed the button, and waited.

A tinny voice said, “Hello?”

“Um, hi ... hello... I’m here to see Nathan Carter,” replied Emily nervously.

“Sure, come on up!” said the voice. There was a buzzing sound, and a click. When Emily tried the door again, it opened.

She found apartment 23 on the second floor. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, and there – to her great relief – was Nathan, looking a little dishevelled, but as handsome as ever.

“Emily!” he said in delight. “You’re here!” He spread his arms, and pulled her into a hug. Then he took her face in his hands, and gave her a long kiss on the lips. “Come on in!” he said excitedly. He took her by the hand, and led her into the apartment. “Guys! Look who’s here! It’s my fiancée! It’s Emily!”

Nathan was not alone, it seemed. Emily had known he was sharing an apartment with two other young men, but she had hoped they would be out this morning. Nathan had, as she was aware, been struggling to find work ... but did none of them have a job?

“This is Mack,” said Nathan, indicating a chubby, bearded man sprawling in an armchair with a video game controller in his hand. Mack looked up and grinned, in a way Emily did not particularly like.

“Hi Emily,” he said. He was wearing boxer shorts, but nothing else, on his lower half.

“And that’s Clive,” said Nathan, “and his girlfriend Sasha.” He pointed to a young couple who were just getting up from a threadbare couch next to Mack’s armchair.

“Hi,” said Emily shyly. Clive was a very good-looking young man, well over six feet tall, with very short dark hair and soulful, dark brown eyes. His girlfriend was also tall – maybe five foot ten or so – and very pretty, if perhaps a little trashy. She was wearing very short denim shorts, and a loose crop top with such a huge neckline that it seemed designed to fall off one shoulder or the other. Currently her right shoulder was exposed, along with her bra strap.

“Hi Emily,” said Clive, reaching out to shake her hand. “Heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Emily smiled at him, then she turned and smiled at Sasha, who was looking rather amused.

“Hey,” said Sasha. “You look like you just stepped out of an old photograph. That’s a lovely dress.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, blushing, “but I’m starting to feel very old-fashioned and out of place in this city!”

“You look great!” Nathan told her firmly. “Don’t worry about what everyone else is wearing. Just be yourself.”

“All the same, Nathan,” said Clive, “it can’t be fun to feel like you don’t fit in. Would you like some help in updating your wardrobe, Emily? I’m almost certain Sasha would be willing...”

“Oh, totally!” said Sasha, grinning. “Any excuse to go shopping. What do you think, Emily? Shall we buy you a couple of more modern outfits?”

Emily was a little taken aback. The offer was generous, and seemed well-intentioned, but the last thing she wanted was to look like Sasha. But how to say this tactfully...?

“Um, thank you!” she replied gratefully. “But ... I don’t know if I’m brave enough to dress quite like you, Sasha...”

The leggy blonde laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to dress like me, Sweetie,” she said. “But there’s a very big middle ground, right? We’ll get you something elegant, and classy ... but modern.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Emily admitted. “But I don’t have much money...”

“Then it’s a good thing I work at a thrift store!” said Sasha. “If you don’t mind second-hand clothing, there’s plenty there for a girl on a budget.”

“Well ... okay then!” said Emily, with a nervous little laugh. “That’s most kind of you.”

“All right!” said Sasha. “Just let me know when you want to go. I’ll be hanging out in Clive’s room.”

“See you around, Emily!” said Clive. Then he and Sasha head off towards a doorway at the far end of the living room.

“Wanna drink?” asked Nathan. “Or something to eat?”

“Jeez, Nathan,” said Mack, amused. “She hasn’t seen you in weeks! She doesn’t want a meal – take her to your room and show her some lovin’!”

Emily turned pink, and Nathan glared at Mack. “Dude!” he said. “Show some respect!” But then he turned to Emily. “I’d show you my room, but it’s not real presentable right now...”

“I wouldn’t mind some water, please,” said Emily.

“Coming right up!” said Nathan, and he walks into the kitchen.

Mack chuckled. “Hoo boy, it’s getting hot in here! Calm down you guys; I can only take so much passion.”

“Just try to ignore him if you can,” said Nathan apologetically.

Mack heaved himself up from his chair. “I’ll give you kids some privacy anyway,” he said. “Nice to meet you Emily.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Emily replied.

After Mack had gone to his room, Nathan set down the glass of water he had just poured, and took Emily in his arms. “I’ve missed you, Baby.”

“I’ve missed you too!” Emily replied. And they kissed, tenderly.

Then Nathan pulled away, and handed Emily the glass. “Here you go,” he said. Then he led her to the couch, and they sat down together.

“So,” said Emily. “How’s the job hunt going?”

“Pretty well,” he replied, nodding. “I got a couple of possibilities lined up...”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Specifically?”

Nathan grinned sheepishly. “Okay, the job hunt hasn’t been going too well. It’s hard, Emily! I’ve been to like five interviews in the past week, and none of them have called me back.”

“Well, keep trying,” said Emily encouragingly. “Sooner or later someone’s bound to recognise how smart and talented you are.”

“Maybe,” Nathan responded, without enthusiasm. But then he brightened. “Guess what though. I’m in a band!”

“A band?” Emily repeated in surprise. “What, like a church band?”

“No!” said Nathan eagerly. “I’m talking the real thing! Rock and roll!”

“Oh!” said Emily, rather taken aback. “Wow. Um ... isn’t that a little ... secular?”

In their home village, few labels were more disparaging than ‘secular’, especially when it came to music. But Nathan did not seem bothered by the notion. “Not everything has to be about our faith, Emily,” he said. “We play good music. You should come along and listen to us sometime.”

“Okay,” said Emily dubiously.

“Anyway, how are things back home?” asked Nathan. “How are your parents?”

“They’re good,” replied Emily, and she and Nathan spent some time talking about home. It was wonderful to be spending time with him again after being so long apart. In addition to the thrill she got from just being around him, he was a comforting reminder of home.

Half an hour later, Sasha and Clive reappeared. “Sorry to disturb you guys,” said Clive, “but I need to run into work real quick.”

“So much for your day off!” said Nathan. “What happened?”

“Oh, Darcie thinks she’s picked up a virus while internet shopping, and she’s terrified Barb will find out. She asked for my advice, and I said I would go in and take a look. It’s probably nothing serious – the bank has some heavy duty firewalls in place – but you never know.”

“Meanwhile, I took the day off so I could spend time with you,” says Sasha ruefully. “And now what am I supposed to do?”

“Shop with Emily, maybe?” Clive suggests.

“Well that would be nice,” Sasha replied, “but I’m sure she’d probably like more time with Nathan...”

Nathan patted Emily’s arm. “Why don’t you go and shop with Sasha?” he suggested. “You and I will have plenty of time together.”

“Oh – sure,” said Emily. She was feeling a little nervous about the prospect of shopping with Clive’s overtly sexy girlfriend, but on the other hand she was very keen to swap her old-fashioned dress for something more modern.

“Great!” said Sasha. “Let’s go then.”

The thrift store was a short walk away, and it turned out to be far larger than Emily had imagined. “This place is huge!” she said, wide-eyed.

Sasha chuckled. “It’s a good size, I guess,” she acknowledged. “Come on, let’s find you some jeans.”

“Oh no,” said Emily, shaking her head. “I couldn’t wear men’s clothes.”

Sasha stared at her. “I meant women’s jeans, obviously,” she said.

Emily blushed. “I ... I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that ... in our village, only the men wear pants. The women wear skirts or dresses.”

Sasha laughed. “Well far be it from me to pull you too far outside your comfort zone,” she said. “All right, we’ll stick to skirts and dresses.”

“And not too short,” Emily added hastily. “I just got a job as a barista, and the skirt they want me to wear is...” She shuddered.

“How short is it?” Sasha asked curiously.

Emily pointed to her thigh, indicating where the skirt of her uniform came down to.

“That’s pretty short!” said Sasha. “Wow, are you gonna be okay? I imagine that’ll be a bit of a culture shock for you.”

“It will,” Emily agreed. “But I guess I’ll just have to get used to it.”

Sasha nodded. Then she looked around thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she said, walking over to a rack of dresses. She pulled a white sundress off the rack, and handed it to Emily. “What about something like this?”

“It’s lovely,” said Emily. “It looks a little short...”

“Well it sounds like you need to get used to showing off your legs,” said Sasha. “This will be longer on you than your barista skirt, but certainly shorter than you’re accustomed to. In the spirit of easing you in gently, this might be a good option.”

“I guess I can try it on,” Emily conceded. “What size is it?”

“Eight,” Sasha replied. “What size are you?”

“Eight – kind of,” said Emily. “But it’s complicated. I have a narrow waist and a big chest, so it really depends on the cut.”

“Well let’s try a few different options,” Sasha suggested.

With input from Sasha, Emily picked out five short dresses, including the white one, and tried them all on. Two of them were too tight around the chest, and one with spaghetti straps and a very open back was just too racy for her even to consider. That just left the white dress, which she had to admit fit her well and was very pretty, and a pale blue dress with puffy sleeves and a very flared skirt that she found quite appealing. The only problem both dresses had was their length: the white one stopped about three inches short of her knees, and the blue one was about two inches shorter than that, stopping just a little below the midpoint of her thighs.

“They’re both so short!” Emily lamented. “Especially the blue one!”

“Is it as short as your barista skirt?” asked Sasha.

“No,” said Emily. “Not quite.”

“Then it’s perfect!” said Sasha brightly. “These two will help you to get used to showing your legs, without exposing quite as much as your uniform. The idea is to ease you into it gently, and I think these are the right dresses to do that.”

“If you say so,” said Emily dubiously. “I do like them, seriously. I just worry about what people will think.”

Sasha laughed. “Neither one will look remotely out of place in this city,” she said. “You’ll soon get used to wearing them, I promise you. But we’re not done. How about getting you some skirts and tops?”

“Sure!” said Emily.

After looking at various options for a few minutes, she picked out a long flower-patterned skirt that she thought very pretty. She held its top against her waist, and turned to Sasha. “What do you think of this?” Then she gasped, seeing that Sasha was holding a tiny leather skirt that could not be more than a foot from top to bottom.

Sasha giggled. “Your face right now!” she said. “Don’t panic, Sweetie, this one’s for me.”

“Oh, whew!” said Emily in relief.

“That’s lovely,” Sasha remarked, nodding at the skirt Emily was holding up. “If I had your legs, I wouldn’t want to cover them up so much, but that’s just me. We can certainly get that one, but let’s get some shorter ones too, yeah?”

“Sure,” said Emily, without much enthusiasm.

Ten minutes later, they both walked into the changing room together, and spent the next few minutes trying on the outfits they had picked out. One of Emily’s skirts was soon giving her trouble, however, and she tutted in frustration.

“Something wrong?” Sasha inquired from the adjacent cubicle.

“I’m having a bit of a hard time with this zipper,” said Emily.

A moment later, she squealed as Sasha suddenly drew back the curtain. “Here, let me see,” said Sasha. Then she chuckled at Emily’s look of panic and hasty attempt to cover her bra and panties. “Aww come on, seriously?” she said. “It’s just us girls here. Damn but those undies though! They look like the kind of thing my grandma would wear.”

“Could you close the curtain please!” Emily gasped, flustered. She could not understand how Sasha, who was wearing a tank top and skimpy black panties, could be so comfortable in such a state of undress outside of a cubicle. “Anyone could come in!”

“Fine.” Sasha stepped into the cubicle and pulled the curtain back across. “Let me see that zipper.”

Emily handed her the skirt, and Sasha took a close look at the zipper. “Yeah, this one’s jammed pretty good...” She worked with it for a moment more, then brightened as she got the slider moving freely again. “There!” she said, handing the skirt back.

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully.

“Now,” said Sasha, looking sternly at Emily’s bra and panties, “we really have to do something about your nightmarish underwear.”

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Emily defensively. “It’s just regular underwear!”

“It’s not sexy!” said Sasha. “You’re a young woman, Emily – and a super hot one, potentially – but you dress like an old grandmother! Please, for the love of God, let me take you lingerie shopping after this.”

“Okay okay,” muttered Emily meekly, still reeling both from the ‘old grandmother’ insult and from the ‘super hot’ compliment. “I know I have a lot to learn. Thank you for taking me under your wing, Sasha.”

Sasha chuckled. “Don’t mention it,” she said, and she turned and walked out of the cubicle, pulling the curtain half-open and then closing it behind her. Emily’s eyes nearly popped out of her head; Sasha’s panties had practically no back to them! There was just a narrow strip of material going between her buttocks; her bottom was almost fully exposed! How could she wear something like that? Wasn’t it uncomfortable? Did she expect Emily to wear something similar??

She tried on the rest of her outfits. A couple of the tops made her nervous – one was very low-cut and showed off a lot of her cleavage, while another was so short that it showed off her midriff – but the other two were fine, if a little tight around the chest. She was not used to exposing her arms, but this was the city, it was summer, and bare arms seemed to be the norm here. She would not look out of place, at least.

The skirts represented a similar mix of comfort levels. The flowery one came down to mid-calf, and she loved it. But all of the other skirts were shorter than knee-length. A beige pleated skirt grazed the tops of her knees, which was fine, but it was uncomfortably tight around her hips. The next longest was a pink wraparound skirt whose hem was about four inches above the knee – just slightly shorter than the white dress. She was not especially keen on the style, but for some reason the length bothered her less than that of the white dress. Possibly this was something to do with the relatively stiffer and heavier material of the skirt. She could easily imagine a gust of wind catching the hem of the white dress and blowing it up above hip level; this was less easy to imagine with the pink skirt.

The prettiest of the skirts, unfortunately, was also the second-shortest; it came only down to mid-thigh and was almost as short as her barista skirt. It was purple, lightweight, and loose-fitting, with two layers of ruffled material and a couple of decorative strings to tie together at the front. She did love the colour ... but it was so short!

The final skirt was made of denim, and was if anything even shorter than her barista skirt. She could not in a million years imagine herself wearing it, but Sasha had somehow persuaded her to give it a try. And for Sasha, it was clearly a winner. “You look fantastic!” she enthused, when Emily timidly stepped out of her cubicle.

“I feel naked!” said Emily unhappily.

“But you look gorgeous,” said Sasha, taking her by both hands and pulling her over to a full-length mirror. “Just look at yourself!”

“I barely recognise myself,” Emily fretted. “It’s just not me, Sasha.”

Sasha chuckled. “All right, well you don’t have to buy this one,” she said. “Though I think that’s a shame. It fits you really well. Which ones are you going to get instead?”

“The flowery one, and the pink one I guess ... and maybe the purple one,” said Emily, after a moment’s thought.

“Well good!” said Sasha. “The purple one’s really nice, and pretty short, too. You look great in it.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, blushing.

Having changed back into her dress, Emily accompanied Sasha to the checkout, where she paid for three skirts and two tops – one yellow and one teal – as well as the two dresses. But then, as Sasha paid for a handful of items she had picked out for herself, Emily noticed the denim skirt among them. “Oh!” she said. “You’re getting that one for yourself?”

“Nope!” said Sasha cheerfully. “I couldn’t get my big ass into it if I tried. I’m getting it because I’m hoping you’ll change your mind about it once you’ve gotten more comfortable about wearing miniskirts.”

“Sasha!” said Emily, exasperated. “You shouldn’t have! If I’d known you were going to do that I’d have paid for it myself.”

Sasha shrugs. “It’s three bucks! No biggie.”

Once they had left the thrift shop with their purchases, Sasha led the way to a clothing store called Figure, which sold “a lot of cheap crap”, she explained, but had an acceptable lingerie section containing inexpensive bras and panties. “It’s no Victoria’s Secret,” she added, “but it’ll be a considerable upgrade from what you’re wearing now.”

Inside, Emily began browsing the lingerie section, and picked up a pair of high-waisted briefs.

“Fuck no,” said Sasha firmly, whipping them out of Emily’s hand and putting them back.

Emily flinched. “Please don’t use profanity,” she said quietly.

Sasha stared at her. “Heck no, then,” she said. “But Sweetie, you’d better get used to hearing curse words. You’ll hear them all the time in the city.”

Emily bit her lip, and nodded. Another thing she would have to adapt to.

Sasha picked up a lacy red thong. “How about this?” she asked, grinning as she hooked her thumbs into it and stretched it out.

“Oh, I couldn’t!” said Emily, aghast. “It’s see-through, and ... ugh! No.”

Sasha chuckled, and put it back. “Perhaps this is more your speed,” she said, picking up a white bikini brief.

“I could wear that,” Emily said immediately. It was far skimpier than her usual underwear, but at least it would cover everything.

“Great!” said Sasha. “Range of colours, or...”

“I like the white,” said Emily.

Sasha shrugged. “Fair enough. Now for some bras. What’s your bra size?”

“38E,” said Emily.

Sasha snorted. “Of course you are,” she said. Then she grinned ruefully. “I’m only a little bit envious. I’m sure they’re a pain to lug around.”

“You have no idea,” said Emily with a sigh. “I get the most terrible backache sometimes.”

“Have you tried massage?” asked Sasha. “My friend Carly has big boobs like yours; she says massage has helped her a lot.”

“Uh ... I haven’t,” said Emily, a little flustered. “And I don’t think I could. Nobody but Nathan should be touching me ... there.”

Sasha burst out laughing. “I’m talking about a back massage, not a boob massage, you silly goose! Your back is where the pain is, right?”

Emily’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Sasha straightened her face. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I can see how you jumped to the wrong conclusion. But in all seriousness, you should try it. They do massages at the sports centre where Clive and I work out. There’s like a spa section there with a sauna and whatnot. They do massage therapy, aromatherapy, facials, and so on. Actually I’m not sure if the spa is officially part of the sports centre or just attached to it. Anyway Clive and I mainly just use the gym and the pool.”

“I’ve never been to a gym,” Emily confessed. “It always seemed like more of a boy thing. What do you do there? Just, like, lift weights and stuff?”

Sasha laughed. “I do a little bit of that,” she said, “but mostly I use the machines. I’m all about the cardio. Need to get some more of this weight off. I’ve lost twenty pounds already, you know.”

“Good for you!” said Emily, impressed. “I wish I could lose some weight off my breasts; that would be nice.”

Sasha grinned. “Nathan wouldn’t thank you, I’m sure,” she said. “But I’m sure your back would. Why don’t you come with me and Clive sometime? At the very least, you can check out the gym and see the machines and maybe try out a few things.”

“Maybe I will!” said Emily, smiling. She was beginning to feel more at ease in Sasha’s company.

“Let’s see, how about this?” Sasha suggested, holding up a pink bra whose cups consisted of a sheer lace upper half and a solid, opaque lower half.

Emily had to admit it looked a lot more pretty and feminine than her usual bras. “I guess I could wear that,” she conceded, a little grudgingly. “Does it come in white...?”

“What’s with you and white underwear?” asked Sasha, chuckling. “Anyone would think you’re a virgin.” Then she notices Emily’s reddening cheeks, and gasps. “Oh my God – you ARE??”

“We’re waiting until we get married,” said Emily quickly, and in a low voice. “It’s what couples do, where we’re from.” Suddenly she was feeling uncomfortable again.

“Well that’s very sweet,” said Sasha reassuringly. “And very commendable. Good for you. But Jeez, girl, you must be dying to know what it’s like! Do you have a date set for your wedding yet?”

Emily shook her head. “My dad won’t give us his blessing until Nathan proves he can support me. He ... he kind of thinks Nathan isn’t good enough for me.”

Sasha grins. “I don’t blame him,” she says. “I mean, Nathan’s a good guy and all, but I think you can do a lot better.”

Emily’s face clouds over. “But I love Nathan!” she said, rather hotly. “He means the world to me. You don’t know him like I do – he’s a wonderful man.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Sasha, instantly contrite. “Forget what I said. He’s a great guy, and I’m happy for you both.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, a little mollified.

With Sasha’s help, she picked out a couple more bras in her size, of different styles, and then she went into a changing room to try them on. At Sasha’s suggestion, she took with her the white dress she had bought at the thrift shop, and changed into it at the same time. Two of the bras fit perfectly and she liked them both; they were very much more comfortable than her usual bras, which were rigid and wiry, and tended to dig into her skin.

“I’ll take four of each!” she announced, upon leaving the changing room. “I love these bras!”

Sasha laughed. “Good!” she said. “Okay then.”

Having bought the bras and panties, Emily went back into the changing room and put on one of each. With her old sturdy bra and giant panties now in her shopping bag, she rejoined Sasha, and the two of them left the store.

Sasha paused by a large trash can. “How about a symbolic gesture?” she suggested. “Out with the old, in with the new?”

Emily bit her lip, hesitating. Then she reached into her bag, fished out her old bra, and tossed it into the trash can. “Good riddance!” she said. Then she reached back into the bag, and took hold of her old panties. “These, I’ll miss more,” she said. “They’re comfy and familiar.”

“How do your new ones feel?” asked Sasha.

“Strange,” replied Emily. “They’re so light ... they’re comfortable, I guess, but I feel more ... exposed, I guess. Even though I’m not really. I expect I’ll get to like them more, as I get used to them.”

Sasha smiled. “Change is always strange at first,” she said. “But sometimes you just gotta let go.”

Emily nodded. With a furtive look around, she quickly pulled her old panties out of the bag, and dropped them into the trash can. Then she giggled. “That actually felt kind of good,” she said. “What’s next? Shoes?”

“Lunch,” said Sasha. “And honestly I really like your shoes. But you would certainly look great in heels.”

Emily smiled. Despite her earlier trepidation about clothes shopping with Sasha, the experience was turning out to be a very positive one. She felt a little exposed in this dress – her knees were showing! – but it was a lot better than having people stare at her because of how old-fashioned she looked. She was a little tempted to throw away her old dress too ... but only for a moment. She did not intend to stay in the city forever, and she would no doubt have need of it if and when she and Nathan moved back to Oakwood.

Ten minutes later, they were eating at Burger King. Then Sasha got a text from Clive, and she smirked a little. “Clive wants to go swimming this afternoon,” she said. “He’s asking if I want to go too. But honestly, I’m having more fun with you.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you from spending time with your boyfriend,” said Emily earnestly.

Sasha shrugged. “He’s not much fun to swim with,” she said. “He’s super competitive, and he always wants to race. Of course he’s much faster than I am, so he makes up little challenges, like can he swim three lengths by the time I’ve swum two ... or he’ll swim breaststroke while I do front crawl. But all I really want to do is swim a few lengths at my own pace, do a bit of diving, and go on the waterslide.”

“That does sound more fun!” said Emily. “I’ve always wanted to go on a waterslide.”

Sasha put her burger down. “You’ve never been on a waterslide?”

Emily shook her head, blushing. “Oakwood’s swimming pool doesn’t have one,” she said.

“But ... Jeez,” said Sasha in disbelief. “Haven’t you ever been outside Oakwood before now?”

“Oh yes,” said Emily. “But never very far. I’ve never even left the state.”

“Fuck!” Sasha exclaimed, making Emily wince. “Sorry. But that’s just tragic! There’s so much to see in the world!”

Emily nodded. “I know you must think me terribly backward,” she said, “but really, I’ve led quite a normal life. I grew up in a loving family, played games, went to school, rode my bike around the village, watched movies, ran...” Then she grimaced. “I don’t run these days, of course. Too embarrassing.”

“That’s a shame,” said Sasha sympathetically. “Were you a good runner?”

“I ran a half-marathon at the age of fifteen,” said Emily, “and came third in my age group. I was only a C-cup then. The following year I was a D, and starting to get self-conscious about the way they bounced while I was running. So I threw myself into swimming instead.”

“Wait ... how old are you now?” asked Sasha.

“Nineteen,” said Emily.

“Okay,” said Sasha. “I was thinking you were eighteen. Well listen, do you want to come swimming with me and Clive? Maybe Nathan will want to come too. It’ll be more fun than just me and Clive having pointless races with each other.”

Emily smiled ... but then her smile faded. “My swimsuit...”

“Ah,” said Sasha sagely. “Let me guess – built from rawhide and whalebone, and covers everything from your neck to your knees?”

Emily giggled. “It’s not that bad!” she said. “But I guess ... I don’t want to get laughed at...”

“Gotcha,” said Sasha. “Next stop, Harris Sports. We’ll get you a nice swimsuit there. Or maybe...” She grinned. “A bikini?”

Emily shuddered. “I’m not quite ready for that!” she said. “But I’m open to trying a one-piece of your recommendation.”

“Okay then!” said Sasha.

After lunch, therefore, they walked a few blocks southward, until they reached a retail park. There, in addition to a pet store, a Chinese restaurant, an arts and crafts store, and a shop that sold toys and games, was Harris Sports. In the window was a poster of a bronzed young man on a surfboard.

They entered, and Sasha led the way to the swimwear section. Emily baulked a little at the prices; so far today she had bought quite a lot for surprisingly little expenditure, but it seemed that was not to be the case here.

Sasha held up a one-piece swimsuit. “How about something like this?”

“I don’t know,” said Emily nervously. “It looks a little skimpy...”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Of course it does,” she said. “But you need to retrain your perceptions, Emily. This is very normal.”

Emily bit her lip, and nodded. “I guess so,” she said. “I like the colours anyway. Can I get a couple more to try?”

“Of course,” said Sasha.

The two of them continued to browse, and Emily picked out one that she liked better. But Sasha immediately vetoed it. “Way too grandma,” she said.

Emily put it back, pouting. Against her instincts, she forced herself to look at smaller, skimpier costumes. Pulling out a plain yellow one with frilly edges, she tentatively held it up. “What about this?”

Sasha regarded it critically. “I’m not keen on the colour,” she said. “But it’s a step in the right direction.”

After further browsing, and some negotiation, Emily went into the changing room with three potential options. The first, a pretty purple and green swimsuit, scarcely seemed like a one-piece at all; the top half was joined to the bottom half only at the back, leaving much of her belly exposed. The second, a black and green costume with a lot of crisscrossing strings, had such high-cut hips that she felt scandalised just looking at herself in the mirror. It did cover her entire pussy area – but only barely. And at the back it cut diagonally across her buttocks, rather than covering them completely. Then again, the purple and green one had not fully covered her bottom either.

Finally she tried on the yellow swimsuit, which she had insisted on keeping as an option. This one was also rather high-cut, though not as bad as the black and green one. What made this one arguably worse was that its neckline was very low-cut, exposing a considerable amount of her cleavage. Not for the first time, she silently cursed her big breasts. “Sasha?” she said. “Tell me honestly what you think of this one.”

Sasha pulled the curtain back, and peered in. “Well the boys’ll love it,” she said. “Hate to say it, but that one does look really good on you.”

Emily looked down at her cleavage. “But I shouldn’t be showing so much ... chest!” she said plaintively. “And look!” She pointed down to her right hip, where the side of her panties was showing beneath the high-cut leg seam.

“That’s normal for a one-piece!” said Sasha. “You won’t be wearing your panties in the pool, will you?”

“No, but...”

“And any swimsuit’s going to show off your boobs to some extent,” Sasha continued. “Most women would kill to have your cleavage; there’s no harm in showing it off a bit!” Then, seeing that Emily still looked worried, she added, “Look, you’ll be in the pool ninety-nine percent of the time, right? Aside from a ten-second walk from the changing room to the pool, and then back again at the end, there won’t be much time for anyone to be ogling your boobs or your bare hips. And plenty of women there will be dressed the same way as you, or even in less. You won’t feel out of place.”

Emily sighed. “All right – I guess I’ll go with this one then.”

“Good girl. Now get changed, and we’ll head straight to the sports centre.” Sasha closed the curtain, and Emily began to take off her swimsuit.

The sports centre was apparently more than a short walk away, so they caught a bus, which took them to the city’s outskirts. As they disembarked, Emily looked at the large concrete building whose frontage was decorated with a giant mural showing faceless male and female figures performing a variety of sporting activities. “This place is huge!” marvelled Emily, as they approached the front entrance.

Sasha nods. “Well there’s a lot here,” she said. “The spa’s over there – it has its own entrance, but you can also get to it from inside this part.”

They entered, and found Clive and Nathan waiting for them. “I brought you a towel and some shampoo,” said Nathan, after greeting her with a hug and a kiss.

“Thanks!” said Emily. “You’re the best.”

In the women’s changing room, not wanting to show her body even to other women, Emily got changed into her swimsuit as furtively as possible, pulling it up beneath her dress and contriving to get her arms in while the dress was still around her neck. Once she had put all of her clothes in a locker, she walked into one of the (thankfully private) shower cubicles, hung her towel on a hook, and rinsed herself down thoroughly under the warm water. Then she stepped out, just in time to see Sasha, wearing a red and white bikini, disappearing into another cubicle. Despite her claim that she would not fit into a size eight denim skirt, Sasha seemed very little bigger than Emily around the hips, if at all ... though she certainly did not have as slim a waist.

A moment later, Sasha emerged from her shower, wiping water from her face. “Okay!” she said. Then she chuckled at the way Emily had draped her towel around her neck, so that its ends hung down over her breasts. “Come on, let’s go meet the guys.”

Nathan and Clive had not yet appeared, however, so Emily, anxious to limit her exposure time on the poolside, draped her towel over the arm of a plastic chair before quickly jumping into the deep end of the pool. The water felt cold after her warm shower, so she started swimming immediately to warm herself up. Soon she had reached the shallow end, but, still very conscious of the amount of cleavage her swimsuit revealed, she did not stand up. Instead she stretched one leg out in front of her, tucked the other leg back, and lazily swished her arms around to keep her balance. The pool seemed fairly busy; about thirty other people were swimming around or hanging out in small groups. They ranged in age from a toddler with big pink armbands squealing in excitement as she splashed her mother, to a man in his eighties who was leisurely swimming widths about halfway down the pool.

Sasha swam over. “Wanna try the waterslide?” she asked with a grin.

Emily looked over at a large green tube which twisted and turned from a height of about twenty feet above the poolside, down to a square splash pool that connected to the shallow end of the main pool via an opening that had a floating rope across it. Several kids, a couple of them in their teens, were waiting for their turn in a short line at the top of the steps leading up to the upper end of the slide. The thought of standing there, exposed in her skimpy swimsuit, made her stomach cramp uncomfortably.

“Oh look, there’s Nathan and Clive,” she said in relief.

The two young men jumped in, and swam over. Sasha and Clive immediately began goofing around, splashing each other and chasing one another around. Then Clive, having dived below the surface, reappeared next to Emily. He patted her shoulder. “Tag!” he said. “You’re it.”

Giggling, Emily lunged after Nathan, but he launched himself away from the side and was soon out of reach, so she turned and headed for Sasha instead. The blonde laughed and tried to swim away, but Emily caught hold of her heel. “Tag!” she yelled.

The game lasted five minutes or so, after which Emily was very out of breath but having a wonderful time. Then Clive said, “Who wants a race?”

Sasha groaned and turned to Emily with an expression that said, ‘See what I mean?’

“Sure, I’ll race you,” said Nathan.

“Me too!” said Emily.

“Fine,” chuckled Sasha. “Count me in.”

“Nice!” said Clive. “Okay, the girls can do front crawl, or whatever stroke they like. Nathan and I will do breaststroke.”

“Awww!” said Nathan, dismayed.

“What’s the matter?” asked Clive, grinning. “Afraid of being beaten by your fiancée?”

“More like by everyone,” said Nathan. “My breaststroke is awful.”

Emily was very aware of this. “It is,” she confirmed. “Let him do the crawl, Clive.”

Clive looked a little grumpy about this, but he nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Two lengths?”

“It’s very crowded,” said Emily dubiously, looking around at all of the moving obstacles that she would have to swim around.

“Oh, we’re not racing here,” said Clive cheerfully. “We’ll do it in the lap pool. It’s just through that door.”

“Oh!” said Emily. She had not realised there were two pools.

Clive and Nathan got out, and walked over to the door. “Coming?” asked Sasha, as she hauled herself out.

“Uh, sure,” said Emily. She climbed out of the pool, and trotted after Sasha, hugging her chest and hoping nobody was staring at her. As she passed through the door into the next room, however, she forced herself to drop her arms, telling herself she was just being silly.

The lap pool seemed a couple of degrees cooler than the family pool, as Emily slipped into the shallow end. Floating ropes divided the pool into six lanes, of which two were occupied by two middle-aged women, swimming side by side at a leisurely pace. That conveniently left four lanes for Emily, Nathan, Clive, and Sasha.

“If I’d known I’d be racing, I’d have bought a pair of goggles,” Emily said ruefully.

Clive took his goggles off. “Here, you can use mine,” he said, tossing them to her. “I won’t need them for breaststroke.”

“Thanks!” she said. She put them on, then adjusted the strap to fit her head a little better.

“Ready?” said Clive. “Set ... go!”

Emily pushed off, her arms outstretched ahead of her. Right, left, right, breathe, right, left, right, breathe. She could not see where the others were, since she was in the rightmost lane and looking up to the right in order to breathe, but she maintained what she considered to be a decent pace, if unhurried. She reached the deep end of the pool, performed a somersault a couple of feet from the end, and pushed off with her feet. On the way back, she passed by Nathan, who was in the next lane. She had always been faster than Nathan, so this was no surprise.

Approaching the shallow end, she touched the wall, and automatically stood up. But then she remembered her exposed cleavage, and ducked down into the water again. Looking over to Clive’s lane, she saw him looking a little disgruntled as he reached out for the end wall and touched it. Standing up, he said grudgingly, “Well done Emily. You’re pretty fast!”

She smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m sure you’d have beaten me if you were doing crawl though.”

He chuckled. “Let’s test that hypothesis, shall we?”

“Oh ... okay,” said Emily. She took off her goggles, and threw them back to him. “You’ll need these, then.”

“Oh, but that’s not fair,” he said. “You’ll be disadvantaged without them.”

“She can use mine,” panted Sasha, who had just reached the end, shortly after Nathan. She took off her goggles, and tossed them to Emily, who caught them.

“Thanks!” said Emily. “But what about you?”

“I’ll sit this one out,” said Sasha, smirking.

“Me too,” said Nathan. “I want to see this race.”

“Why don’t we make it more interesting?” Clive suggested. “Four lengths?”

“Why not make it even more interesting?” Emily replied with a grin. “How about eight?”

Clive’s face fell a little. “That’s quite a distance,” he said. “But sure! Why not? Eight it is.”

Nathan hoisted himself out of the pool, and sat on the edge. “On your marks,” he said. “Set ... go!”

Emily pushed off again. Eight lengths required a slower pace than two, but she had not really been pushing herself in the previous race, so she felt she could maintain a similar pace this time. She reached the deep end, somersault-turned, and headed back ... and she could immediately see that Clive was a little ahead of her. Either he was faster than she, or he was pushing himself too hard and would wear himself out quickly. Whichever it was, it would have no effect on her own pace; this was right for her.

He was still ahead of her when she turned, and for the third length she was unable to see him. When she started her fourth, however, she saw she was only a little behind him. Halfway down the pool, she caught up with him, and was a little ahead of him when she reached the shallow end.

At the start of the sixth length, she was more than a body-length ahead of him. Clearly he had not paced himself well. She lengthened her lead over him, but lost sight of him again during the seventh. As she turned and began her eighth length, she could see him powering his way down the pool towards the deep end. Relaxing a little, she finished her final length to the sounds of applause from Nathan and Sasha. Turning around, she smiled as she watched Clive finishing his final quarter-length.

He stood up, raising his goggles and wiping water from his face. “Damn you’re good!” he gasped.

“Thanks!” said Emily, trying to look modest but feeling rather pleased with herself.

“Shall we go back to the other pool?” Clive suggested. Apparently he had had his fill of racing.

“Sure,” said Sasha, and Nathan nodded.

Emily followed them out of the pool and over to the door, where a couple of young men were approaching from the other side. They both stood aside, holding the door open, while Sasha and Clive passed through.

“Thanks!” said Sasha, smiling at them.

“You’re welcome,” said one of them, grinning at her and completely ignoring Clive. The two of them paid Nathan similarly scant attention.

Buoyed up by her swimming success, Emily mustered up the self-confidence to keep her hands by her sides as she walked through the doorway, smiling pleasantly at the two young men. The first of them smiled back, then his gaze dropped to her chest, and his eyes abruptly widened. Looking back up at her face, he said, with a broad grin, “Hey there! I love your swimsuit.”

“Thanks,” Emily mumbled, hurrying through the door. She was acutely aware that the other young man was also staring at her chest, but she resisted the impulse to fold her arms. Almost running to the poolside, she jumped in the water next to Nathan and Sasha.

Sasha turned around, and raised an eyebrow at Emily’s expression. “You okay, hun?”

“Yes thanks,” Emily muttered. “Those men were staring at my chest.”

“You should just try to get used to that,” Sasha advised her. “You have an eye-catching chest. And that’s not a bad thing! Some guys will just stare, and you can just go ahead and ignore those assholes ... but some will take a quick look, appreciate the view, and then look you in the eye and talk to you. And those are the ones worth your time.”

“I guess those two were one of each kind,” said Emily. “I just ... I hate my chest being noticed.”

“So cover up, wear thick sweaters, and never let anyone see what’s underneath them,” said Sasha with a shrug. “But that would be a shame. Why should you hide yourself away and apologise for what you look like? Whether you’re fat, thin, busty, or flat-chested ... you are what you are, and nobody has a right to judge you for it.”

“That sounds like a good philosophy,” Emily admitted. “I just wish I could convince myself of it ... you know, deep down. It’s hard not to feel ... shame...”

“Why, because your body excites men?” Sasha asked scornfully. “Sorry, but I’m guessing that’s your religious upbringing talking. Typical patriarchal bullshit. Never apologise for what you can’t control, Emily. I mean it. If there’s one thing ... one mantra ... that you can take away from today, let it be that: never apologise for what you can’t control.”

“I guess ... I guess that’s wise,” conceded Emily, still a little doubtful.

“It is,” said Sasha firmly. “Now, how about checking out that waterslide?”

Emily bit her lip. The thought of being up on those steps, in full view of everybody, in her skimpy swimsuit... “Will ... will you go with me?” she asked, a little plaintively.

Sasha laughed. “Sure, if you want,” she said. “But why not ask your fiancé? I’m sure he’d protect you if any other guys got too close.”

“Well ... he doesn’t really like confrontation,” said Emily, somewhat ruefully. “But I wasn’t really thinking about needing protection. I was just hoping not to be the sole focus of attention up there.”

Sasha chuckled, and nodded. “Sure, that’s fine,” she said. “Want me to hold your hand too?”

“Uh, no, that won’t be necessary,” said Emily, blushing.

“I was kidding!” said Sasha, laughing. “I’m sorry – you’re just too easy a target. Come on – let’s head up there.”

Sasha led the way, and Emily, feeling very self-conscious as she hauled herself out of the pool, followed after her. As Sasha reached the foot of the steps leading up to the top of the slide, she took off her goggles, and hung them over a nearby railing. Emily guessed that this meant that goggles were not allowed on the slide; a quick skim through the rules on a sign next to the steps confirmed this. The rules also stated that only one person was allowed on the slide at a time, that users must go in feet first, and that they must lie down instead of sitting up.

There were three young teenagers – two girls and a boy – ahead of them when they reached the top. Sasha turned around and smiled down at Emily. “Excited?” she inquired. Then her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness!”

“What?” asked Emily, instinctively folding her arms to cover her breasts, since that was where Sasha was looking.

Sasha smirked. “Don’t panic, hun, but your swimsuit is kinda see-through.”

“What?” Emily said, aghast. She pulled her arms away from her chest just long enough to peer down at her nipples ... which were faintly visible through the wet material. “Oh no!” No wonder those two young men had been staring at her chest! She turned to descend the steps, but a young couple had just begun to climb up towards her, so she quickly turned back to face Sasha.

“Like I said, don’t panic,” said Sasha, amused. “Nobody else is likely to see, if you’re careful. Just don’t act like a frightened bunny rabbit, and you’ll be fine.”

Emily wanted to retort that she was not acting like a ‘frightened bunny rabbit’, but she strongly suspected that this was indeed how she was coming across. So she attempted to adopt a slightly less anxious posture, though this was not easy with her arms clamped across her chest.

All too soon, she reached the top and was the next person to go, as Sasha disappeared into the mouth of the green tube. She smiled sheepishly at the pool attendant who was manning the waterslide; he was a young man, barely out of his teens, and he looked rather bored. When Emily stepped up, he glanced indifferently at her chest, perhaps wondering why she was covering herself, but all he said was, “Feet first, lie on your back, keep your arms tucked in”. He peered over the edge, and when Sasha entered the splash pool, he added, “Okay, in you go.”

Emily stepped forward, then let go of her chest so she could grasp the edges of the tube. Pulling herself in, she squealed as she began to slide downward at speed, propelled by gravity and the rushing water. Bump, bump, bump went the joins of the tube on her shoulder blades, which was a little uncomfortable, but she barely noticed as she hurtled around one bend after another, getting faster and faster until she suddenly shot out of the tube and splashed hard into the water below.

Laughing, she swam over to the rope, ducking beneath it to reenter the main pool and rejoin Sasha. “That was fun!” she giggled when she came up for air.

“Good!” said Sasha. “So now you’ve tried a waterslide. Sorry about your swimsuit; I didn’t see that coming. Either the fabric’s thinner than it’s supposed to be, or...”

“Or my massive chest is stretching it out more than it’s designed for,” Emily said gloomily.

“At any rate, we’ll take it back to the store,” said Sasha. “You need a swimsuit you’re not going to be embarrassed to wear.”

“I was already embarrassed to wear it,” Emily pointed out wryly. “But yes, it would be nice to have one that isn’t see-through! I daren’t get out of the water again!”

Sasha chuckled. “Awww, it’s not that bad. Just keep your arms folded while you’re out of the water and you’ll be fine. And while you’re in the water, nobody can see your nips, so you’re fine for the moment.”

“Yeah – I just need to remember not to get out of the water in front of any men!” said Emily, shivering and giggling at the same time.

Sasha grinned. “The men will love it,” she said. “And they won’t dare misbehave in front of the pool attendants. It’s other women you’ll need to worry about – the ones who will loudly call you out in front of everyone and complain to management about you. You know the type, I’m sure – uptight insecure women with an overactive sense of righteous moral superiority. Christians, likely as not... Oh, sorry, no offence...”

Emily pouted. “None taken,” she said. “But that’s the first time I’ve heard the word ‘Christians’ used as a pejorative!”

“You’re kidding!” said Sasha. “My goodness, you have led a sheltered life! In my world it’s usually used that way – Christians generally being all up in other people’s morality, telling other people how they ought to behave...”

“Well,” said Emily, puzzled, “that’s kind of what we’re supposed to do, though. Spread the Word of God...”

“Do that with me, though, and I’ll slap you upside the head,” Sasha warned her. “I get enough moral lectures from my folks; I don’t need them from you.”

“Of course not,” said Emily hastily. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I was just talking about Christians in general. I’m not the evangelizing type.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Sasha.

“So ... you’re not a Christian?” Emily ventured. “I’m not judging; I’m just curious.”

“Nope,” said Sasha.

“What are you, then?” Emily persisted. “Buddhist? Muslim...?”

Sasha snorted. “God no,” she said. “I’m not religious, Emily. Like, at all. And I’m really super not interested in discussing religion, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh ... okay,” said Emily. “Sorry.”

Five minutes later, after some more goofing around, Nathan got out. “Waterslide, anyone?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Sasha.

Emily looked up at the slide wistfully. “Wish I could!” she said.

Sasha chuckled as she climbed out. “Then come with us!” she said. “You can go between me and Nathan, and keep your arms folded. It’ll be fine.”

Emily bit her lip, then nodded. It had been fine last time, and the thought of being between Sasha and Nathan was comforting. “Okay!” she said eagerly. She hauled herself out, and immediately folded her arms as she walked with the others.

“You cold?” Nathan inquired.

“No, I’m fine,” Emily muttered.

“Her swimsuit’s kinda see-through,” Sasha explained.

“Oh!” said Nathan, his eyes widening. Then, as they reached the foot of the steps, he asked, “Can I see?”

“Nathan!” said Emily, exasperated.

“Oh please!” he said. “It’s been a long time since I last saw them, and they’re so gorgeous...”

Emily blushed. “You can see them later, if you like,” she said, ascending the steps after him.

“Awww come on – just a quick peek?” he begged.

Emily sighed. It would make him happy, and she supposed a quick peek would not hurt. “Fine,” she said, lowering her arms until they were beneath her breasts.

Nathan stared in delight at her visible nipples. “Whoa, that’s awesome!” he exclaimed.

“Hush!” hissed Emily anxiously, covering her chest again.

“Wow, I really love that swimsuit!” said Nathan happily.

“Yes, well don’t get used to it,” Emily cautioned him. “I’ll be taking it back to the store.”

“Awww!” he said, disappointed. “But I like it!”

“I can’t go swimming in a see-through swimsuit, Nathan!” said Emily. “It’s indecent! Besides, do you really want other men ogling me?”

Nathan shrugged as he continued up the steps, walking backwards so he could keep talking to Emily. “I don’t mind,” he said. “I kinda like the idea of other men seeing how hot you are, and being jealous of me.”

“You mean envious,” Emily automatically corrected him. “But really, Nathan? You’d be happy for other men to stare at my breasts, with my nipples showing?” She lowered her arms again, to remind him of what these hypothetical admirers would be seeing.

Nathan grinned. “Well ... yeah!” he said. “There’s no need for me to be insecure. You’re mine, right?”

Emily pouted as she brought her arms up again. “Yes, I am,” she said. “But most men would want their women to keep covered! My body should be for your eyes only, Nathan!”

Nathan sighed. “That’s your dad talking,” he said. “I’m not your dad, Emily! I don’t hold all the same views as him, as you know.”

“I know,” said Emily, “but I didn’t know about this one. And I’m not very comfortable with it!”

“Then keep your arms folded!” said Nathan. “I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Emily. I’m just saying I don’t mind if other men look. If you do, then that’s fine and you can take whatever measures you feel you need to in order to feel comfortable.”

This actually did sound reasonable, and Emily pursed her lips, wondering if perhaps she was making an unnecessary fuss over the issue. Perhaps her biggest gripe was that Nathan’s position made it seem like he did not regard her highly enough to want to keep her to himself. But what if that was not the case at all? What if he really was just so proud of her attractiveness that he wanted to show the world how lucky he was? Maybe she should feel flattered that he wanted to show her off.

Nevertheless, she could not help keeping her arms folded as she reached the top and stood waiting for her turn. When the pool attendant gave her the go-ahead, she waited until the last moment before grabbing the tube and pulling herself in. But once again, she found herself exhilarated by her subsequent rush down the slide, and she squealed with childish glee.

By the time they all decided it was time to leave the pool, Emily had been down the waterslide six times. She was still feeling self-conscious about her swimsuit, but she had become so accustomed to folding her arms whenever she was out of the water that she was no longer particularly perturbed by the prospect of climbing out.

After her shower, she got dressed rather hurriedly in the open area of the women’s changing room, but nobody was there apart from Sasha, and the tall blonde did not seem inclined to peek at her naked body. Nevertheless, she was relieved to be fully clothed again in her new white dress.

She and Sasha met up with Nathan and Clive in the reception area. “What are we doing next?” Emily asked.

Nathan grinned. “You wanna come and meet the band?” he asked. “I texted them to say you were in town, and they all want to meet you. You can listen to us play! Maybe give us some constructive feedback or something.”

“Sure!” said Emily. “I’m interested to hear your music.”

“Don’t forget we also have to return your swimsuit,” Sasha remarked.

“I know, but it’s wet right now,” said Emily. “I’d prefer to return it tomorrow, once it’s dried out.”

Sasha nodded. “Okay,” she said indifferently. “Well, it’s been fun meeting you and spending time with you Emily.“

“It’s been fun for me too!” said Emily. “I’m sure I’ll see you both later.”

“See you later Emily!” said Clive.

“Bye Clive!” said Emily.

As Clive and Sasha headed to Clive’s car, Emily and Nathan walked to the bus stop. “I like your friends,” said Emily. “Sasha and I had a nice time shopping today.”

“Good!” said Nathan. “I’m glad to hear that. They’re good people.”

“I’m kind of surprised that you’ve fallen in with atheists, though,” Emily went on. “I’m not judging,” she added hastily. “It’s just ... I thought you would have found some Robertine friends. Or at least some Christian friends, even if they weren’t Robertines.”

“They’re not atheists!” said Nathan in surprise. “Clive’s Jewish! And Mack grew up Catholic, although he’s kinda lapsed.”

“Sasha said she’s not religious,” said Emily. “I guess I assumed that meant Clive wasn’t either.”

“He’s not, particularly,” said Nathan. “That doesn’t mean he’s an atheist though! Nor Sasha! It just means they don’t practice.”

Emily nodded. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “It was just weird, meeting someone who’s not even a little bit religious. I do like her though.”

When the next bus arrived, they boarded it, and rode it for about two miles, back into the heart of the city. Then Nathan said cheerfully, “Here we are!” and they disembarked.

Emily looked around. “This place looks a little grim,” she observed.

“This is the industrial district,” Nathan explained. “But some of these buildings are abandoned, and our drummer Warren knows a guy who owns that one.” He pointed down the litter-strewn street at a large, run-down concrete building. “It used to belong to a publishing company. It’s full of offices, conference rooms ... and a big room where the printing machines used to be, I guess. And that’s where we practice. Look, there’s Warren’s van.”

“Is this the East Side?” Emily asked anxiously.

“Yeah,” said Nathan. “But only barely. It’s not too rough around here – there’s a police station just a couple of blocks away. Don’t worry Emily; we’ll be just fine here.”

They walked over to the building, and Nathan pushed open a plain grey door. Inside, he led Emily along a short corridor, down a flight of stairs, and through a set of double doors into a huge warehouse-like space that Emily assumed must be the old press room. Aside from a few piles of junk, it was almost completely empty. On the left-hand side, however, a drum kit had been set up between a couple of large black speakers. A few feet in front of the drums was a microphone stand. Three young men, one with a guitar slung around his neck, were in the middle of an animated discussion, but they fell silent and looked up as Nathan and Emily entered.

“Hi guys!” said Nathan. “Look, I brought Emily along!”

“Hey Emily,” replied the guys, all three of them regarding her with interest.

One of them – a dark-haired young man in his early twenties – came over with a smile and an outstretched hand. He was wearing a tank top and sweatpants; the top showed off a pair of well-muscled arms. “Hi Emily, I’m Warren,” he said.

She shook his hand. “Hi Warren!”

“And these are the Vespucci brothers,” said Nathan. “Marco on lead guitar, Vinnie on bass.”

The brothers were dark of hair and complexion, and Vinnie looked a few years older than Marco, who was about Emily’s age. They both came over to say hello and shake her hand; Marco seemed endearingly shy.

“I can’t wait to hear you play!” said Emily.

“All right!” said Warren, clapping his hands. “Let’s jam!”

Emily found a box to sit on; she positioned it about twenty feet in front of the mike stand, and sat down as demurely as she could, with her thighs pressed together and her dress pulled down to her knees. She found herself missing her old dress, which would have hung down well over her knees, keeping all but her ankles covered up. How did women in shorter skirts and dresses cope with sitting down? How would she herself cope with sitting down, wearing the other dress and the short skirts she had bought this morning with Sasha?

“Testing, testing,” said Nathan, putting his mouth up close to the microphone. “Sounds good. Everyone ready?”

Warren responded with a short patter of his drums, and the Vespucci brothers both gave Nathan a thumbs-up.

“Okay!” said Nathan. “A one, a two, a one two three four!”

What followed was a rather surreal experience. Only with the application of considerable generosity could the sounds produced by the band be called music. The first thing that became apparent was that poor Marco was completely out of his depth on the lead guitar. Sometimes Emily could tell what he was trying to do; other times she had no idea. She soon picked up on the main riff of the song – not a bad riff, though fumbled as often as not – but the rest of it was a complete mess. Vinnie on the bass guitar seemed to have a better handle on his part, but it bore almost no relation to what his brother was doing, except during the main riff when both guitars were briefly (and mercifully) in sync.

Warren, meanwhile, had a job to do and he was sticking to it, come what may. His pattern was uncomplicated, but he hammered it out with authority, keeping his own time regardless of what the others were doing. And since Marco frequently fell out of time, and Vinnie was doing his best to keep time with his brother, the guitars and the drums were rarely if ever in sync.

And then there was Nathan’s singing. Emily knew that he had quite a nice voice, if not terribly strong ... but here he was clearly trying to put a rough, rocker-type edge on his voice, which sounded forced and compromised his pitch accuracy. And the lyrics...

“Whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’ girl
Look at me, dontcha see my brain is in a whirl
I love the way, love the way, love the way ya move
Gimme a chance, gimme a chance, all my love I’ll prove

Heyyyyy yeah, you got me on your hook
Heyyyyy yeah, I love the way ya look
Heyyyyy yeah, oh baby cantcha see
Heyyyyy yeah, you’re everything to me

Where ya goin’ where ya goin’ where ya goin’ girl
How ya doin’ cantcha see my mind is in a whirl
Don’t be cruel now, gimme hope, I wanna see you soon
Walkin’ with ya, hand in hand, beneath the shiny moon

Heyyyyy yeah, you got me on your hook
Heyyyyy yeah, I love the way ya look
Heyyyyy yeah, oh baby cantcha see
Heyyyyy yeah, you’re everything to me

Ohhhh yeah baby, I’m on your hook
Ohhhh yeah baby, you got me shook

Whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’ whatcha doin’ girl
Look at me, dontcha see my brain is in a whirl
I wanna see ya, wanna see ya, every night and day
Please be my girl, all the time girl, never go away

Heyyyyy yeah, you got me on your hook
Heyyyyy yeah, I love the way ya look
Heyyyyy yeah, oh baby cantcha see
Heyyyyy yeah, you’re everything to me”

At the end of this song, Emily clapped politely, as a breathless Nathan grinned happily at her. Walking over, he asked brightly, “What did you think?”

“It was good,” she said. “Who wrote the words?”

“I did!” said Nathan. “I know they’re ‘secular’...” He made air quotes and rolled his eyes, “but I’ve found that a lot of people outside Oakwood don’t really like being preached to. If we want to hit the big time, we need songs with broad appeal. Plus, the other guys weren’t interested in Christian lyrics.”

“How did you meet them?” Emily asked.

“Mack and Clive and Sasha took me to a bar,” said Nathan. “It was karaoke night, and they persuaded me to go up and sing. I sang I Gotta Feeling and Candle in the Wind. And people clapped! I loved it. And this guy came up to me and said, ‘Hey, you’re pretty good – wanna be in a band?’ And that was Warren. So yeah, that’s how it started. I met Vinnie and Marco the next day, and we just kinda hit it off. They were just doing covers of old songs from like the 90s and 80s, and I said to them, ‘Why not write your own songs?’ Vinnie said he’d been doing a bit of songwriting, but Warren and Marco didn’t think anyone would be interested in his material. He also said that although he‘d come up with a few cool tunes, he didn’t have any lyrics to go with them. I said I would try my hand at writing lyrics, and ... the rest is history! Vinnie and I have written five songs now, but the band’s only learned to play a couple ... and only ‘Whatcha Doin’ Girl’ really well.”

Emily nodded. “What are your other songs called?” she inquired.

“Uh, well there’s ‘Hometown Girl’,” said Nathan. “We’ve almost got that one nailed down. Then there’s ‘What I Wouldn’t Do’, ‘Love Ain’t Easy’, and ‘Cherry Pie’. ‘Cherry Pie’ is my favourite, but it’s kinda ambitious. Marco struggles with the riffs, a bit. Also, it really calls for a backing vocalist, but none of the other guys are keen to take on that role. And really, it should be a female vocalist...”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Were you hoping I would do it?” she asked in surprise.

Nathan looked a little sheepish. “Well, you can sing!” he said. “You have an awesome voice.”

“Yes, but Nathan!” said Emily, rather taken aback. “I have no desire to be in a band!”

“Won’t you at least give it a try?” Nathan cajoled her. “It’ll be fun!”

Emily hesitated, then sighed. “I guess I could give it a try...” she said reluctantly.

“Yay!” said Nathan excitedly. He turned to face the others. “Hey guys! Emily’s agreed to join the band!”

“Nathan!” exclaimed Emily, aghast.

“On a trial basis,” Nathan quickly added.

“That’s great, Emily!” said Vinnie.

Warren looked a little less enthusiastic. “Can you sing?” he inquired.

“Oh she can sing!” Nathan assured him. “But don’t take my word for it. Can you give him a demonstration, Emily?”

Emily felt very put on the spot, but she was at least confident in the quality of her voice. “What should I sing?” she asked, perplexed. “A hymn?”

“God no,” said Warren.

“How about ‘Yesterday’ by the Beatles?” Nathan suggested.

As he knew, she knew the song well; she had even performed it at school. “Okay,” she said with a shrug. She cleared her throat, then sang, “Yesterday ... all my troubles seemed so far away... Now it looks as through they’re here to stay... Oh I believe in yesterday...”

“Damn, you really can sing!” said Warren, impressed. “Welcome to the band!”

Emily felt a little gratified, despite herself. “I don’t even know if I want to be in a band,” she said. “But thank you anyway. Does the band have a name?”

“Immoral Compass,” said Warren, grinning.

Emily frowned. “I couldn’t possibly be part of a band with a name like that,” she said.

“That’s too bad,” said Warren, his smile fading.

“Warren, the name doesn’t matter,” said Nathan anxiously. “Lots of bands go through name changes in their infancy.”

“How about Moral Compass instead?” Emily suggested. “I think that’s a good name.”

“No,” said Warren firmly.

“What about just Compass?” said Marco.

“I like it,” said Vinnie. “It’s punchy.”

“I like it too,” agreed Nathan. “How about it, Warren? If it means Emily stays ... it’s surely worth it?”

Warren scowled a little, but then he nodded. “Fine. Compass it is.”

Emily smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “So ... what am I singing? Your ‘Cherry Pie’ song?”

“Yes,” said Nathan, “although now that you’re in the band, we can work backing vocals into our other songs too.” He fished in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper, which he unfolded for her. “Here – these are the lyrics for ‘Cherry Pie’. Your parts are in parentheses.”

Emily took the piece of paper, smoothed it out, and read the following:

“CHERRY PIE

Some things in life are worth the wait
(Cherry pie)
Like this pie sittin’ on my plate
(Cherry pie)
Looks so good, way too good to waste
(Cherry pie)
Come on baby let me have a taste
(Cherry pie)

Cherry pie, cherry pie, you’re so hot and sweet
(Give it a try)
Cherry pie, cherry pie, I can’t wait to eat you
(Not gonna lie)
Cherry pie, cherry pie, if you only knew
(Sweet cherry pie)
Cherry pie, cherry pie, how much I love you
(Sweet cherry pie)

Every month, I come to this diner
(Cherry pie)
Give it a lick, there ain’t nothin’ finer
(Cherry pie)
Cherry juice running down my chin
(Cherry pie)
Don’t be shy, stick your face right in
(Cherry pie)

Cherry pie, cherry pie, you’re so hot and sweet
(Give it a try)
Cherry pie, cherry pie, I can’t wait to eat you
(Not gonna lie)
Cherry pie, cherry pie, if you only knew
(Sweet cherry pie)
Cherry pie, cherry pie, how much I love you
(Sweet cherry pie)

(Repeat chorus)”

Emily chuckled. “I didn’t know you liked cherry pie so much!” she said.

Nathan shrugged. “It’s just a song,” he said. “The tune goes like this...” He cleared his throat, then proceeded to sing the song, pausing every so often to explain where Emily would be coming in with her parts.

“Well that seems simple enough,” said Emily, after he was finished. “Easy to remember.”

“Great!” said Nathan. “Marco, how are you doing with your part?”

“I’m getting there,” said Marco, a little uncomfortably. “We can give it a try if you like.”

“Excellent!” said Nathan.

It went about as badly as Emily expected. Marco was clearly struggling with the quick chord changes required by the riffs, and Emily felt rather bad for him. Fortunately he had less opportunity for improvisation in this song, so for the most part he kept in fairly good time with Vinnie, who would slow down a little when necessary in order to let his brother catch up. Warren, unfortunately, tended to bash on regardless, so he was ahead of the guitars for most of the time. Nathan, unsure whether to follow the guitars or the drums, sometimes picked one and sometimes another, which was a little disorienting.

Emily’s backing vocals were written to mesh with the lead vocals, so she followed Nathan’s lead, ignoring the fact that this usually put her out of time with the instruments. At the end of the song, as the others were high-fiving each other, she grimaced a little.

“What’s wrong?” asked Nathan, grinning as he raised an eyebrow at her.

“It, um, needs a bit of work,” she remarked, with an apologetic smile.

“Well, yeah, I guess,” said Nathan. “But not too much! I thought that was great for our first proper performance together!”

“But everyone was out of sync with each other!” said Emily, exasperated. “Warren, you’re a fine drummer and I know you want to keep the song moving along, but if the guitars get behind, you really should moderate your pace in order to stay with them. The most important thing is not the integrity of the tempo; it’s that you all stay together.”

Warren glared at her. “For someone who only just joined, you’re being mighty critical!”

“I haven’t joined,” said Emily. “And if you can’t take constructive criticism, then perhaps I shouldn’t.”

“Guys, guys!” said Nathan anxiously. “Warren, she’s only trying to help.”

“And she does have a point, Warren,” said Vinnie. “It wouldn’t kill you to slow down a bit if Marco gets stuck, would it?”

“He shouldn’t be getting stuck, though!” said Warren. “And once he’s nailed his part, it won’t be an issue!”

“But for now, it is,” said Emily. “And I’m not sure Marco is comfortable with his part anyway. Are all those twiddly bits really necessary? Couldn’t the tunes he’s playing be simplified a bit?”

Vinnie looked a little put out. “I wrote those riffs,” he said. “They’re good riffs! I don’t want to gut them; Marco will get them eventually ... won’t you Marco?”

“I dunno, bro,” said Marco, looking a little subdued. “I want to ... I’m trying ... but it’s super hard.”

“Then perhaps you should be on bass,” said Vinnie candidly.

“Halle-fuckin-lujah!” said Warren, throwing his hands up.

Emily winced. “Please don’t use bad words, Warren,” she said. Then, before he had a chance to respond, she added, “Could Vinnie and Marco swap? Is that an option?”

“Yes!” said Warren. “I’ve been suggesting it for weeks, but Marco has it in his head that he wants to be a great lead guitarist like his guitar heroes.”

“And you can play lead guitar, Vinnie?” Emily asked.

“Heck yeah,” said Vinnie. “I wrote the guitar parts; I can certainly play ‘em.”

Emily turned to Marco, and said gently, “Would it be so awful to be the band’s bassist?”

Marco pouted a little. Then he sighed. “Maybe it’s best,” he admitted. “It’s not much fun to be the one who’s always messing up, that’s for sure.”

“It seems you’ve joined us at a good time, Emily!” said Warren happily. “How quickly do you think you can pick up the bass parts of these songs, Marco?”

“Well they’re not exactly flashy,” said Marco ruefully. “I already know what they sound like – it won’t take me long to get used to the fingering.”

“Good!” said Warren. “Well, you go ahead and practise – maybe we can do another run-through a bit later?”

“Sure,” said Marco, shrugging. Emily could tell he was feeling disappointed.

Warren was all smiles now. “Think you can figure out backing vocal parts for ‘Hometown Girl’ and ‘Whatcha Doin’ Girl’, Nathan?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” said Nathan.

Warren nodded. “Good,” he said.

After another hour’s rehearsing, during which Nathan taught Emily ‘Hometown Girl’ and came up with a rudimentary backing vocal part for the song, Marco said he was ready to try ‘Cherry Pie’ again.

It was not perfect, by any means, but it was far, far better than the previous time. Marco was a little shaky on the bass guitar, and Vinnie despite his expressions of confidence was somewhat rough on the lead guitar, but Warren to his credit did slow down a little to accommodate the Vespuccis’ slight hiccups. Nathan raucously belted out his vocals with gusto, and Emily nailed her backing part.

Everyone was ecstatic at the end. Once again, high fives abounded ... but this time they felt earned. Even Emily was caught up in the infectious excitement.

Buoyed by their success, they played it through again, and again. Each time was a little better than the last. Then they played through ‘Whatcha Doin’ Girl’, with mixed success. Nonetheless, the mood was upbeat when everyone went their separate ways just before six o’clock.

“Let’s eat out,” said Nathan, as he and Emily left the building together. “Just you and me. Nice restaurant. We should celebrate your arrival in the city.”

“That sounds nice,” said Emily, “but Jacob and Mary are expecting us.”

“Oh! Yes.” Nathan nodded. “Well, how about tomorrow night then?”

“Sure!” said Emily.

They caught a bus back to the Davises’ house, where after a few minutes of chatting with Jacob, they sat down to a delicious chicken casserole. As they ate, conversation inevitably turned to Nathan’s job prospects.

“What kind of work are you looking for?” Jacob asked him.

Nathan shrugged. “I’ve got moderate skills in a few different areas,” he said. “Dad’s an electrician, so of course he’s taught me a thing or two about that kind of work, but of course he hung out with carpenters and plumbers and bricklayers and so on, and I picked up a variety of things from watching them. The problem is that in the city, nobody seems to be looking for a generalist like that. They want specialists – people with a lot of knowledge in a narrow area. People who are up to date with all the latest codes and technologies.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none, huh?” said Jacob. “Well, keep trying – Emily won’t wait around forever for you to make something of yourself, I’m sure.” He chuckled.

“I will,” said Nathan, looking a little uneasy.

“I like your new dress, Emily,” said Paul suddenly.

“Thank you,” said Emily.

“Yes, it’s lovely,” said Mary. “Much more suitable for the city.”

“I ... I was afraid you wouldn’t approve,” said Emily. “I mean ... it shows my knees...”

Jacob laughed. “We’ve been in the city fourteen years, Emily,” he said. “The sight of a woman’s knees no longer shocks us.”

Emily bit her lip. “My new job,” she said hesitantly, “has a uniform – a blouse and skirt. I’m a little afraid of wearing the skirt – it’s very short. Much shorter than this dress.”

“Hmm,” said Jacob. “They shouldn’t be forcing you to wear a miniskirt. Wasn’t there an alternative?”

“Marv said I could wear pants instead,” said Emily, “but I just couldn’t do that! Pants are for men.”

Jacob, Mary and Paul all laughed. “That’s Oakwood for you!” said Jacob. “Well Emily, you might have to just get used to it, until you can find yourself a proper job somewhere else.”

Emily nodded, and resumed eating. While she was still anxious about wearing her barista uniform, she at least felt a little better knowing that Jacob and Mary were not scandalized by the idea.

After dinner, Emily and Mary washed and dried the dishes while Jacob talked with Nathan in the living room. Then Mary made coffee, and they all sat down together in front of the television to watch Masterchef, which apparently was one of Jacob and Mary’s favourite shows. Emily was a little shocked by the language used by both the judges and the contestants, which was rather coarser than she was accustomed to. Since nobody else commented on it, however, she did not voice her disapproval, and merely sipped uncomfortably at her water (she was not a coffee drinker).

Once the show had finished, Nathan bade everyone goodbye, and gave Emily a lingering kiss on the lips by the front door. “See you tomorrow?” he asked.

“Of course!” she said. “I’ll come by after work.”

He smiled. “See you then!”

Then he left, and Emily went upstairs to her bedroom. She had not been there long, however, when there was a knock at the door. “Hello?” she said.

The door opened, and Paul stuck his head in. “Hi Emily,” he said. “Do you want to play a game with me?”

“Sure!” said Emily. “I’d like that.”

“Awesome,” said Paul, grinning. “Come on then – it’s in my room.”

“What are we playing?” Emily asked, as she followed him out of her bedroom. “Checkers? Chutes and ladders?”

Paul snorted. “Nothing like that,” he said. “I meant a video game.” He paused in the doorway of his room. “You have played video games before, right?”

Emily bit her lip. “Do solitaire and minesweeper count?”

He stared at her. “No,” he said. “Wow. Okay. Come on, let me show you.”

Emily entered his room; the walls were covered in posters, and there was a faint musty smell, like unwashed clothing. The posters were eclectic in their subject matter: sharks, motorbikes, Harry Potter, a model in a swimsuit, a map of the world, a movie called ‘Bumblebee’ which looked like it was about a yellow robot, and a photo of the New York City skyline. “Your parents let you put that on your wall?” she asked.

“Awww, she’s not showing anything ... oh,” said Paul, looking surprised when he realised what she was pointing to. “Harry Potter? Why not?”

“Well, you know ... witches and stuff,” said Emily. “It’s all very un-Christian.”

Paul chuckled. “Have you ever seen it?” he asked her. “It’s classic good versus evil stuff. It’s not promoting anything bad.”

“Aside from magic!” said Emily.

Paul looked at her in puzzlement. “In the Harry Potter universe,” he said, “magic is just a tool – like technology – that can be used for good or evil. The good guys in the stories – Harry Potter and his friends – use it for good. The bad guys use it for evil. What’s wrong with that?”

Emily’s cheeks reddened. “I just don’t think magic’s like that,” she said. “There aren’t good witches and bad witches. There are just witches, and they’re evil.”

“Wait a minute,” said Paul, now looking incredulous, “do you mean to tell me you think magic is actually real?”

“Of course!” said Emily, feeling more and more defensive. “The Bible talks about witches.”

“Well yeah.” Paul shrugged. “I don’t think many people these days really believe magic’s a real thing though. Certainly not in the way it’s depicted in Harry Potter.”

Emily pursed her lips, but then she nodded. She really did not want to get into an argument, but it seemed that the values of this household had departed some way from those of her community back in Oakwood, of which Pastor Davis had once been a prominent figure. “What’s this game of yours, then?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Fists of Fire Ultra,” said Paul. He had already switched on his television, and was tapping buttons on a console controller. “It’s a fighting game.” He sat down on the edge of his bed, facing his television.

Emily wrinkled up her nose in distaste. She had heard about violent video games, and had no desire to play one. But she watched, guardedly, as the game loaded up, and Paul deftly navigated his way through several screens that were gone before she had had time to take them in.

Paul handed her another controller. “Here!” he said cheerfully. “Choose your fighter.”

Emily sat down next to him, and stared at the controller in her hand. “What?” she said. “How?”

“Use the left stick,” said Paul. “Move it right, left, up, down...”

Holding the controller in both hands, as Paul was doing, Emily did as he had said. On the screen, a red box jumped from one little face to another, in response to her movements. Each time she selected a face, a cartoonish character appeared on the right-hand side of the screen. On the left, Paul had already selected his fighter: a beefy-looking man named Doug.

Emily could not help noticing that the female characters were mostly very skimpily dressed. And none of them was remotely as big and strong as Doug. “I don’t think this is going to be a very even match!” she said, as she settled on a girl named Lightning, who was wearing a long green dress with slits up the sides. “Your fighter is twice the size of mine!”

“They’re all as strong as each other,” said Paul. “Don’t get hung up on the size. Each character has different abilities and a different fighting style, but they’re evenly matched. Anyway don’t worry – I’ll let you practise for a bit before we fight. Hit the X button to choose that character.”

The fight started, with Doug and Lightning appearing on what looked like a castle’s rooftop, with crenellated walls all around. Paul talked Emily through the controls, and let her try them out. She had a button for punching, a button for kicking, a button for blocking, a button for grabbing. The left stick was for moving forward, backward, away from the camera, and towards the camera. Buttons on the front of the controller were for jumping and crouching. It was a lot to remember, but Paul was a patient teacher.

“This is kinda cool!” said Emily, laughing as she accidentally performed a flying spinning kick. “I think I did that by hitting jump and kick at the same time.” She tried it again, and Lightning performed the same move again. She tried other combinations of buttons, and succeeded in pulling off a backflip kick, a roundhouse kick, a flying punch, and a cartwheel punch. She had never played anything like this game, and even though it was about fighting, it was surprisingly entertaining to jump and flip her character around the screen.

In the course of her practising, she had inadvertently punched and kicked Doug several times, and his health bar was now at about seventy percent, despite Paul’s blocking moves. “Are you ready to have a proper fight?” asked Paul.

“Sure,” said Emily. She made Lightning approach Doug, and tried a cartwheel punch.

Doug blocked it, then performed a flurry of moves that had her reeling and then falling over and then getting up only to fall over again as more hits came in. Within seconds, her health bar was half empty. “Hey!” she objected.

“It’s all about timing the moves,” said Paul. “Obviously I’ve had more practice at that...”

“Yeah, it shows,” said Emily ruefully. Fortunately he was hanging back now, waiting for her next move. So she went on the offensive again, following up a punch with a kick and then a roundhouse kick. Whether he was going easy on her, or she genuinely took him by surprise, seconds later she had Doug on his back and groaning in pain, much as Lightning had been moments before.

“Nice move!” said Paul. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

For the next half hour – far longer than she would have dreamed she would actually play a video game about fighting – she battled against Paul in a series of bouts, using Lightning and then a handful of other female characters. She lost most of their matches, and those she won she was fairly sure Paul had allowed her to win, but she had to admit she was having a great time, even though she did not approve of some of the outfits (one of her characters was wearing such a short skirt that she could not help showing her panties every time she kicked).

Eventually Paul said, “Okay, well I should probably get my homework done. Thanks for the game, Emily.”

“You’re welcome!” she said. “It was surprisingly good fun. Goodnight Paul.”

“Goodnight Emily,” he said. Then he added, with a hopeful expression, “could I maybe get a goodnight kiss?”

Emily was startled; she had not been expecting this. “Um,” she said, “I think that might be more appropriate coming from your mother, Paul.”

“Yeah,” he said glumly, “but she’s stopped giving me goodnight kisses. I think it’s because of my acne.”

“Awww, that’s too bad,” said Emily, feeling suddenly sorry for him. Paul’s acne was indeed awful, but it was a great shame that even his mother would not kiss him anymore. “Of course I’ll give you a goodnight kiss,” she said generously.

Paul’s face lit up. “Thank you!” he said. “I don’t expect you to kiss the acne, though – I know that would be gross for you. Why don’t you kiss my lips instead?”

“Uh...” said Emily, her cheeks reddening.

“I would have suggested that to Mom,” said Paul, “but that would feel weird ... I mean, she’s my mom, you know?”

“Yes, I can see how that would be weird,” agreed Emily. “But...”

“I mean, I guess you could try my cheek,” mused Paul, “but I’d be totally mortified if one of my zits burst all over your lips or something...”

“Eww,” said Emily with a shudder. “All right Paul, we’ll try it on the lips. Just a quick peck, though – I have a fiancé, remember?”

Paul got to his feet, and came over to stand in front of her. He might be three years her junior, but he was at least three inches taller than she was, and he seemed very large and adult as he looked down into her eyes. He put his arms around her, and pulled her against him, with his right hand in the small of her back. She gasped as her breasts squished against his chest.

“Thank you for this, Emily,” he said. “It means a lot to me.” And he bent his zit-infested face downwards, and pressed his lips to hers.

Emily’s eyes widened, and she pushed against his chest with her hands. He let her go, and stepped back with a big smile on his face. “Thanks again Emily,” he said. “Sleep well.”

“You too!” she said, a little flustered. She turned and hurried out of his room, her thoughts awhirl. That had been more than a peck! It had lasted several seconds! At least it had felt that way. Perhaps it had only been a couple of seconds. Still, more than a peck!

Five minutes later, as she slowly undulated her torso back and forth under the shower, she pondered Paul’s situation. He was not an attractive boy, that was for sure. It seemed unlikely that he had ever had a girlfriend, and he had likely never kissed a girl before. That was no excuse for taking advantage of a houseguest, of course ... but in the situation in which he found himself, giving a (dare she say it) moderately attractive woman such as herself a goodnight kiss, was it any wonder that he would want to prolong the experience as long as possible? She supposed she could not really blame him for making it last.

After her shower, she dried herself, out on a clean pair of panties and her nightdress, and brushed her teeth. Then she went to her bedroom, knelt down next to her bed, and said her prayers, as she had done daily for as long as she could remember. After thanking God for all the good things in her life, she made a couple of humble personal requests, and then finished off by asking Him to bless her family, the Davises, her new friends, Nathan, and finally herself. Then she climbed into bed, and closed her eyes. Her bowels felt very full, but she ignored the slight discomfort; she could hold it until tomorrow.

What a day it had been! And tomorrow she would be starting her new job ... wearing that awful skimpy uniform! She hoped she would acquit herself well. With a sigh, she rolled over, and over the course of the next few minutes, slowly drifted off to sleep...

DAY 2 – WEDNESDAY

The following morning, Emily could not bring herself to put on her uniform; without an apron to go over the top, it was just too embarrassingly revealing, and she did not dare to let Jacob and Mary see her in it. So she put on her long flowery skirt, and a yellow short-sleeved top that went with it rather well. Beneath the skirt and top, she was wearing some of the new underwear she had bought yesterday; she had to admit they were quite comfortable.

“You look nice, honey,” said Mary, when she entered the kitchen.

“Thank you!” said Emily. “Nathan’s friend Sasha helped me pick out a whole new wardrobe yesterday, at the charity shop where she works. This was my favourite skirt, and the top seems to go well with it. There’s a little bit of wear on the waistband of the skirt, but otherwise they could almost pass for new!”

“Yes, they both look very nice,” agreed Mary.

Paul had already gone to school, and Jacob was in his study, so Emily and Mary chatted with each other as they had breakfast, then cleared everything away and washed the dishes.

They were still in the kitchen when Jacob came downstairs. “Good morning Emily!” he said cheerfully. “New job today, huh? Are you excited?”

“I’m not sure excited is the right word,” said Emily ruefully. “I’m a little nervous.”

“I’m sure you’ll do an excellent job,” he said. “Not exactly accountancy, is it?”

“I guess so,” she agreed, as Mary raised an eyebrow at her husband.

Half an hour later, Emily was in her room when there came a knock at the door. “Hello?” she said. “Come in.”

Mary’s head appeared from behind the door as it opened halfway. “Jacob and I are just going out,” she said. “Good luck with your new job! Is there anything you need before I go?”

“No, thank you,” said Emily. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” said Mary, and she retreated out of sight. A moment later, Emily heard the front door close.

She was alone in the house. She looked at her alarm clock; she did not have to leave for another hour or so. Her heart began to beat faster; it was time. This was her chance to be naughty, to indulge her secret pastime. It was one which she had discovered in her early teens, and while she was quite happy to play the part of the good Christian in almost every aspect of her life, always doing the moral thing, always being respectful, always doing what was required of her ... this was her one little act of rebellion against conformity.

She left her room and went to the top of the stairs. “Hello?” she said loudly. There was no response. She truly was alone. She flicked a switch on the wall by the bathroom door, activating the extractor fan.

Entering the bathroom, she took off her skirt, pulled her panties down, sat down on the toilet, and peed. Squeezing out every last drop, completely emptying her bladder and urethra, she thoroughly wiped herself, then dropped the scrunched-up toilet paper into the bowl. Leaning forward, she stood up, pulling her panties up as she straightened.

Then she sat down again. “You’re a bad girl, Emily,” she said to herself softly. “You’re a bad girl for even thinking about doing this.” She shivered. Then she strained.

The turd which emerged from her distended anus was thick and bumpy, the compacted result of almost two whole days of holding it in. She knew it was going to be big, and that thought excited her more than anything. She was going to completely fill her new, skimpy little panties.

She grunted, and pushed, but the material was getting more and more tightly stretched as it tented downwards toward the water beneath. She carefully stood up again, squatted slightly, and hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties. Lowering them a couple of inches, she immediately found it easier to push out more of her poo. “Ooh, you naughty girl!” she whispered, delightedly forcing several more inches of the thick brown column into her panties. “So dirty! So disgusting!”

She kept pushing, until there was nothing left to come out. Then she pulled her panties up firmly, gasping as her warm excrement pressed against her now-closed anus, and squished deliciously between her buttocks. “I can’t believe you did that!” she scolded herself. “A big grown-up girl of nineteen! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” She reached back, and cupped the bulge in her panties with her hand. It was so big! She giggled.

What now? She did not want to simply dump it out. Not just yet, at any rate. Idly rubbing her pussy through the front of her panties, she walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out on to the landing. This was especially naughty, of course. It was one thing to have an ‘accident’ in her panties in the bathroom, but quite another to then go wandering about the house. She would have to be quick, though; she could not afford to let the smell build up too much anywhere but in the bathroom. There, at least, the extractor fan could remove the odour.

She trotted down the stairs, and into the living room. “So naughty!” she admonished herself in delight. “You shouldn’t be coming in here in your messy panties!” Then she skipped through to the kitchen, her large lumpy poo bouncing around within the stretchy white material of her panties, and thudding against her buttocks with each step. “So unhygienic!” she said severely.

Then, with a squeal of excitement, she left the room and hurried back upstairs. As was her ritual, she shut herself in the bathroom, sat down on the toilet with her messy panties sagging down into the bowl, and began to masturbate. With her hand tucked inside the front of her panties, she rubbed her clitoris with practised vigour, her breaths turning into ragged gasps, until with a moan of pleasure and satisfaction, she shuddered in a beautiful climax.

As her breathing returned to normal, she grimaced. Now for the least pleasant part: the clean-up. Getting up, she tugged her panties down her thighs, then gingerly extracted each leg in turn, being very careful not to let her poo fall out as she did so. It was such a big lump! She hoped she would be able to flush it.

She tipped the poo into the toilet, wiped her bottom thoroughly, then pressed the flush lever down, causing water to pour into the bowl. Her poo, now draped with wet and streaky paper, settled down into the base of the bowl, lodged itself in the entrance to the S-bend, and there remained firmly stuck, while the water got deeper and deeper. “Come on, come on...” Emily muttered nervously.

But this toilet had a weaker flush than the one in her home back in Oakwood, and her poo did not seem like it was going anywhere. When the cistern finally emptied itself, the water level was almost up to the rim of the bowl. It began to go down, but terribly slowly, and certainly with not enough force to dislodge the giant faecal plug below.

She would have to use the plunger. This little adventure was getting more and more unpleasant by the minute! She loved the feeling of pooping, the naughtiness of doing it in her panties, and the thrill of the taboo of walking around in full panties ... but the messy, smelly, arduous post-orgasm aftermath was never fun. Particularly today.

Much of her poo was still outside the S-bend, protruding into the base of the bowl, so the plunger was going to get messy, and would have to be cleaned. When she picked it up, she realised with apprehension that it was actually a sink plunger, terminating in a concave rubber cup, rather than a proper toilet plunger. Nevertheless, she gave it a try. Screwing up her face in distaste, she pushed the plunger down into the base of the bowl, thrusting it as far into the pipe as possible, pushing her poo around the bend.

The water descended a few inches, then stopped. Emily tried again, now unable to see what was going on because the water had turned brown. She lifted the plunger out of the water, and almost gagged; the cup had inverted itself, and was decorated with chunks and smears of wet poo. She put it back in the water, and swirled it around frantically in the hope of cleaning it off. This got rid of some of the mess, but not all of it.

This was going from bad to worse! She decided to try another flush; she could rinse the plunger under the flow of clean water, and then – hopefully – a bit of extra rodding in conjunction with the influx of more water might be enough to finally dislodge her poo.

She flushed, and began thrusting again with the inverted plunger. The bowl rapidly began filling up to the brim, despite her efforts, and to her horror she realised it was going to overflow. Panicking, she transferred the plunger to her left hand, knelt down, and reached into the toilet bowl with her right arm, bunching her fingers together as she pushed her whole hand down into the pipe, reaching around the bend. Her fingers sank into squishy poo, and she groaned in disgust and despair. The opaque brown water in the bowl was up to her armpit, soaking the short sleeve of her top.

But her efforts paid off, just in time to avert disaster. With a combination of pushing and scooping with her hand, she managed to clear the blockage. Water rushed into the pipe, the level in the bowl rapidly began to drop, and the loose chunks of her squished and broken poo were carried away at last. Panting with relief, Emily pulled her arm out of the bowl, whimpering as she saw the messy state of her hand. She rinsed it off in the bowl, and then she took off her top and went over to the basin. Using plenty of soap and hot water, she washed her hand and arm very thoroughly. Even after five minutes, she could still detect the scent of poo on her fingertips, so she used a nailbrush and continued to scrub, until no trace of the smell remained.

Then she rinsed out and thoroughly washed her panties, and the sleeve of her top. Returning to her bedroom, she draped her top over the back of the chair next to her dresser, and spread out her damp panties on the seat of the chair. Both garments would dry out by the end of the day.

She put on a fresh pair of panties, then her long skirt, and a different top to go with it. She sniffed her hand, and arm; no hint of poo. Good! She was ready to go. She folded up her new work uniform, put it in her bag, and then she went downstairs, and left the house, making sure the door was locked behind her. She shivered. This was it! Her first day at work.

When she arrived at the coffee shop, she took a deep breath, then entered, smiling a little nervously at Trish, who was standing behind the counter. Trish raised an eyebrow. ”Good morning,” she said. “Didn’t you get a uniform?”

“It’s in my bag,” said Emily, approaching the counter. “I didn’t want to put it on until I got here. It’s ... it’s a bit skimpier than the clothes I’m accustomed to wearing.”

Trish snorted. “Fine, you can change in Marv’s office,” she said.

Emily blinked. “Uh ... why not the restroom?”

“The restroom’s not a changing room, honey,” said Trish. “It’s small, there’s nowhere to hang your clothes, and it’s used by customers and staff alike. I don’t want someone who needs to use it for its intended purpose unable to get in their because you’re getting changed.”

“But ... isn’t Marv in his office?” asked Emily anxiously.

“Yup,” said Trish with a smirk. “But don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll give you your privacy ... if you ask him nicely.”

Emily could tell that Trish did not like her, for some reason. She was sure that she could get changed in the restroom quickly enough not to inconvenience anyone, but she did not want to argue with her new supervisor on her first day. So she meekly nodded her head. “Okay, I’ll go and talk to Marv.”

“You do that,” said Trish.

As she passed the restroom, Emily jumped as the door suddenly opened. Cassidy emerged, and immediately smiled. “Hi, new girl!” she said. “Emily, right?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “Hi! And you’re ... Cassidy?”

“Yup!” said Cassidy. “Welcome aboard!”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “I’ll see you in a bit; I have to go and get changed in Marv’s office.”

Cassidy stared at her. “Why not in here?” She inclined her head toward the restroom door.

Emily shrugged. “Trish said I had to use Marv’s office,” she said.

Cassidy frowned. “I’ll talk to her,” she said. “There’s absolutely no reason you should have to use Marv’s office instead of the restroom! It’s ridiculous!”

“No, don’t,” said Emily hastily. “Please. I don’t want to make waves on my first day. I’ll go see Marv. If he wants to tell me to use the restroom, then fine.”

Cassidy pursed her lips, then nodded. “Suit yourself,” she said.

Marv’s door was open, but he was sitting at his desk with his back to Emily. She cleared her throat. “Uh, Marv?”

Marv turned around, and smiled. “Emily!” he said. “Welcome to your first day. But you’re not in uniform – is there something wrong with it? Did you change your mind about working here?”

“No, no,” said Emily hastily. “The uniform’s fine – well, actually it’s a little skimpy – but I’m here because Trish told me I would have to change in your office.”

Marv raised an eyebrow. “She did, did she? Hmm, let me go and talk with her. In the meantime, feel free to change in here; when I come back, if the door’s still closed, I’ll wait until you open it. Sound good?”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. She should have realised that Marv was too much of a gentleman to make her get changed in his presence.

Marv left, closing the door behind him, and Emily quickly changed into her uniform. She uttered a little whimper at how short the skirt was, and how tight the blouse was. Her breasts were straining against the buttons; she was afraid that if she took too deep a breath, they might pop off. Good thing she would be wearing an apron over the top of this!

She folded up her own clothes, and put them in her bag. Opening the door, she found Marv waiting outside. “Wow!” he said, looking her up and down. “I see what you mean about it being skimpy.”

“Oh dear!” said Emily fretfully. “Does it look really bad?”

“No!” he said. “Heavens no. You look fantastic. Just a little sexier than we’re used to seeing around here. Not that that’s a bad thing; I’m sure the customers will love it. But ... are you okay with wearing this? I imagine it’s a little outside your comfort zone.”

“I’d rather it weren’t so skimpy!” Emily admitted. “But I should be all right, once I have an apron over it.”

Marv nodded. “Yes, of course; I’ll go get you one. Wait right here.”

He left the room, and Emily waited patiently. Two minutes later, Marv returned, looking apologetic. “It seems we have a problem,” he said. “We had a bit of an infestation of, uh, mice a couple of months ago; they got into some of the food... Unfortunately it seems they may have also had a bit of a nibble on the clothing, too. Probably used it for nesting material or something. Anyway I found two ruined uniforms and our spare aprons ... well, they’re kinda full of holes.”

“Oh no!” said Emily.

“But don’t worry!” said Marv hastily. “We’ll order some more from Walker’s, and in the meantime, I’ll have Trish or Cassidy lend you theirs, so that you can cover up your ... uh ... you know.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, relieved that he was not going to make her work without an apron.

“Come on then,” said Marv. “We’ll get you fixed up.”

But Trish, it turned out, was not a fan of Marv’s idea. “Why should one of us give up our apron?” she asked. “Why can’t Emily be the one to go without?”

“It’s her uniform,” said Marv. “It’s a little tight on her. An apron would hide that.”

“She looks fine to me,” said Trish with a shrug.

“Hey, I don’t mind giving up my apron,” said Cassidy. “It’s not like we actually need one, since we switched to the new machine.”

“That’s right!” agreed Marv. “The old machine used to spit and sputter a lot,” he explained to Emily, “so the aprons were kinda necessary, to protect the uniforms. But that’s no longer the case! The new machine is very clean.”

“So you’re saying the apron is no longer required as part of our uniform?” Trish inquired.

“Well, I guess so!” said Marv.

“Fine,” said Trish, reaching behind her back to untie her uniform. “Then we’ll stop wearing them, as of now.”

“Thank you!” said Marv.

“But a uniform’s a uniform,” Trish went on. “And if Cassidy and I are going without aprons, Emily should too. Otherwise it’s not really a uniform, is it? People are bound to wonder why she’s wearing an apron, and we aren’t.”

“Look, Trish,” said Marv, getting annoyed, “let’s not forget who’s the boss here. If I say Emily gets to wear an apron and you don’t, that’s my call!”

“Why don’t you shout a little louder, Marv?” said Trish coolly. “I’m sure the customers are very interested in your interpersonal conflicts with your staff.”

Emily watched the two of them in mounting horror. She had no idea which of them was likely to win this battle or wills, but she hated conflict, and was getting very stressed by the feeling that this was at least partly her fault – or at least on her account. And she could take it no longer.

“I’ll go without an apron!” she squeaked. Then she blushed at the unintended pitch of her voice, and continued hurriedly, “I don’t mind – really. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

Trish smirked. “All right then,” she said. “Seems like the matter’s settled. We’ll all go without aprons.”

Emily gulped.

Marv turned to her. “Are you sure, Emily?” he asked her. “Look, maybe I can send you back to Walker’s for a larger blouse.”

Emily smiled, a little bleakly, and nodded. “Thank you,” she said. She was not looking forward to facing Anthony again, but if it meant getting a less revealing blouse, it would be worth it.

“For today, though, you’ll just have to wear this one,” said Marv. “Now I need to get back to my accounting; I’ll leave you in Trish’s capable hands.” He turned and headed off back to his office.

“All right, new girl, let me show you around,” said Trish. “You know your way around a cash register?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “At least ... I’m not sure; this one looks a bit different from what I’m used to, but I’m sure the principles are the same.”

Trish rolled her eyes. “First you’ll need to sign in...” she began, and thus Emily’s training commenced.

There was, in truth, not a great deal to learn. The hardest part was operating the espresso machine, but even that was fairly intuitive, and she picked it up quickly.

In addition to selling coffee and other hot drinks, the shop offered an assortment of baked goods, which were not made on the premises; a local bakery delivered them first thing every morning. Customers placed their orders at the counter, paid up front, and it was the baristas’ job not only to prepare the drinks, but to take the entire order to the table. Emily asked if it was difficult to keep orders straight when things got busy; Trish replied that the shop almost never got so busy that orders were likely to get confused.

“We tend to get the same people coming in day after day,” she said. “You’ll soon get to know them and what they usually order. Here – why don’t you take this next one?”

A good-looking young man in his mid-thirties had just walked in. As he approached the counter, he smiled at Emily. “Hello!” he said. “You’re new.”

“Yes!” replied Emily. “This is my first day. What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a medium caramel latte and a blueberry muffin please,” he said.

“Certainly, sir,” said Emily, and she punched the appropriate buttons on the cash register. “That’ll be three dollars and eighty-five cents please.”

His eyes dropped briefly to her chest as he handed her a card.

“Credit or debit?” she asked. Behind her, Trish nodded approvingly.

“Credit,” he replied.

She processed the payment, and handed him his card back. “Thank you sir,” she said. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring you your order shortly.”

Trish watched carefully as Emily operated the espresso machine, and grunted with satisfaction as the young woman repeated all the steps perfectly. “Good,” she said. “You’re doing okay, Emily.”

“You’re a good teacher,” said Emily. “I get the feeling you don’t like me much, but I’m grateful for your training.”

“I don’t like privileged little princesses,” said Trish candidly. “But if you can hold your own and do a good job and keep the customers happy, and you don’t whine and complain ... then we’ll get along just fine.”

Emily was inclined to be indignant at the implication that she was a privileged princess, but she did not want to get into an argument over it. So she just said, “I assure you, I have no intention of whining or complaining ... and every intention of doing the best job I can.”

Trish nodded. “Good! Muffins are over there. Your customer’s name is Chet, by the way – he’s a regular.”

“Yes, I saw his name on his card,” said Emily with a smile. “I made a mental note.”

“Good,” said Trish, nodding.

Emily put a blueberry muffin on a plate, and took it along with the caramel latte over to Chet’s table, feeling very self-conscious about the length of her skirt and the tightness of her top. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Here you go, Chet!”

As she bent over to set the cup and plate on the table, Chet glanced sideways at her chest; through the gaps between the buttons of her too-tight blouse he had a good view of her bra and the upper part of her right breast. He grinned. “Thank you,” he said. “So, how are you enjoying your first day?”

“Oh, it’s going well!” said Emily, straightening up with a smile. “Thank you for asking.”

“I’m getting a kinda rustic vibe from you,” said Chet. “Would I be right in thinking you’re pretty new to the city?”

“Yes!” said Emily, impressed. “What gave me away?”

“The hair, mainly,” he admitted. “But also, the way you talk.”

Emily touched her hair self-consciously. “Oh dear,” she said. “I guess I need to work harder at fitting in! But this is only my second day in Jonesburgh...”

“Your second day!” echoed Chet. “Well, kudos for getting a job so quickly. Good luck with it, and enjoy the rest of your day. I think this place made a great decision in hiring you; I hope you’ll stick around.”

“Thank you, I hope so too,” said Emily happily. She almost skipped back behind the counter. “He’s nice, isn’t he?” she remarked to Trish.

Trish chuckled. “There are plenty as nice as him,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fans by the end of your shift.”

Emily was not quite sure what Trish meant by that, but the older woman did not elaborate, so Emily took it to mean that she had done a good job.

As noon approached, the coffee shop began to get a little busier, and although Emily was never exactly rushed off her feet, she was certainly never standing idle. Cassidy had left; she had come in just to see Emily through her first shift, but when it became apparent that Emily was up to the challenge, Cassidy decided not to stick around any longer.

Emily received several compliments on her service, and a couple regarding her outfit. One gentleman in his sixties eyed her legs with unabashed glee before saying, “Well you’re a pretty sight, aren’t you? I like your skirt.”

“Thank you,” replied Emily, blushing.

She noticed a lot of men looking at her chest, too, and wished her blouse were not so tight. She hoped her visit to Walker’s later would fix that; the appreciative male stares made her nervous.

Fortunately the lunchtime rush wore off a little after half past one, and by two o’clock the place was as quiet as it had been at eleven. Then a dark-haired, slender, rather severe-looking woman walked in, wearing the same uniform as Trish and Emily.

“Hello,” she said, looking in surprise at Emily.

“Hey Kris,” said Trish. “This is Emily – she just started.”

“Hey,” said Kris. “So you’re Emily, huh? That uniform’s a bit small for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes!” said Emily ruefully. “I’m hoping to remedy that after my shift ends.”

Kris nodded. “Well, have a good one, Trish.”

Trish had already collected her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “You too,” she said. “See you tomorrow, Emily.”

“Bye Trish!” said Emily.

For much of the next hour, she had very little to do, and Kris was not very talkative, preferring to spend her idle time on her phone. Finally, at three o’clock, Emily said, “Uh, Kris?”

Kris looked up, then looked at the clock. “Oh! Right. Three o’clock. Yes, off you go. I can take it from here.”

“Doesn’t it get busy later?” asked Emily in concern. “Will you manage on your own?”

“Always have,” said Kris with a shrug. “Evenings are never as busy as lunchtime. People got homes to go to, you know?”

Emily nodded. “Okay, well, I’m going to go and get changed, then.”

“Get changed?” inquired Kris.

“I’d rather not go home like this,” said Emily sheepishly.

Kris chuckled. “Old-fashioned parents, huh?”

“Well they’re not my parents, just a pastor and his wife who are kindly letting me stay with them for a while,” said Emily. “But I’d rather not make a bad impression on them!”

Kris nodded, and Emily headed to Marv’s office. As she cautiously entered through the open door, she found him on the phone. It was an old-fashioned landline, with a spiral cable, and Marv was twirling the cable around his finger as he talked. “Yes, but Devon,” he said, “I just need more time. You know I’m good for it; we’ve been down this road before. Hold on a sec...” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and said, “Emily! Hi! How was your first shift?”

“It was good!” said Emily. “Thank you. But ... um ... I need to change...”

“Oh, right,” said Marv, looking nonplussed. “Uh ... the thing is, I’m kind of on an important call right now, and I’m not sure how long it’ll be.”

“Okay,” said Emily understandingly. “I’ll just wait outside.”

Marv, looking a little stressed, shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to wait,” he said. “Look, if I turn and face my computer, could you get changed behind me while I keep talking on the phone? I promise not to turn around, obviously. I won’t see a thing.”

This idea made Emily feel quite nervous, but she nodded. “Of course,” she said. “That’ll be fine.” She knew Marv was a nice guy, and she trusted him to keep his word.

“Okay, good,” said Marv. He turned away from her, and stared at his computer screen. “Sorry Devon – one of my employees came in. Listen, you’re welcome to come and inspect my accounts anytime, but...”

As he continued to talk, Emily closed the door, set her bag down, and began unbuttoning her blouse, while staring anxiously at Marv’s back. True to his word, he remained facing away from her, but once she had removed the blouse, she nevertheless put on her own top as quickly as possible. Then she unzipped her tiny work skirt, pulled it down, and stepped out of it. Marv was showing no sign of turning around, but she pulled up her flowery skirt hastily, and only began to relax when it was safely fastened. She was about to open the door and leave the room, but she decided she ought to at least let Marv know she was done, so he could turn around. She walked over to his desk, stood to his left, and leaned forward slightly, waving her hand.

“Yeah I just didn’t expect ... no, tomorrow’s fine,” said Marv, then he noticed Emily, and smiled, giving her a thumbs-up. He cupped the mouthpiece, and said, “See you tomorrow, Emily.”

“Bye!” said Emily.

As Emily walked back into the main cafe area, past the counter, Kris said, “Hey, new girl – Emily. You hungry?”

Emily had not had any lunch, and was famished. “Uh, a bit,” she admitted.

“Help yourself to one of the bakery items,” said Kris. “Perk of the job.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Uh ... you mean, for free? I don’t want to feel like I’m stealing from Marv...”

“You can go ask Marv if you don’t believe me,” said Kris with a shrug.

Emily did not want to disturb Marv, and she had no reason to doubt Kris, so she smiled and nodded. “Thanks,” she said. “In that case I think I’ll grab a muffin.”

She did so, then she left the coffee shop, and made her way back to Walker’s, stopping for five minutes on the way to sit down on a bench and eat her muffin. Then, making sure there was no trace of it around her mouth, she walked the remaining distance to Walker’s, and entered.

The shop seemed empty. “Hello?” she said.

Anthony appeared from somewhere in the back. “Emily!” he said. “What a pleasant surprise! Is something wrong with your uniform?”

“Well yes,” she said, blushing. “The top is really too tight – and Marv just changed the uniform to no longer include an apron ... so I can’t even cover up how tight it is.”

“Oh dear!” said Anthony. “Well, let’s see what we can do about that. Skirt all right though?”

“Well it’s a little short...” said Emily apologetically.

“Then let’s try to kill two birds with one stone,” said Anthony. “Why don’t you slip off your skirt and top, and I’ll be right back with some other things for you to try on.”

Emily bit her lip. She had been afraid he would ask her to undress again. “Uh ... could you ... please ... lock the door, like you did last time?”

Anthony nodded. “Yes, of course.”

As he walked over to the front door, Emily headed over to the area next to the changing room, where she would be out of sight of the front windows. Then, taking a deep breath, she took off her skirt, followed by her top. When Anthony returned, she instinctively covered her bra with her left arm, and her panties with her right hand.

He chuckled. “No need to be shy,” he said. “In fact, if I’m to find you the right blouse, I’m afraid I’m really going to have to take a proper bust measurement. And that means, I’m sorry to say, removing your bra.”

Emily stared at him fearfully. “But ... you’re a man...”

“Last time I checked!” he said cheerfully. “Look, Emily, this is my job. I do this all the time – for men and women. I’ve seen more naked and semi-naked bodies than I care to remember. I’m a professional; you should just trust me, and trust that I know what I’m doing. There’s really nothing unusual or improper about you taking off your bra so I can measure your bust. It’s standard practice.”

Emily gulped. How different things were here in the city! She could not imagine a clothing store salesman back in Oakwood asking her to take off her bra ... or even to strip to her underwear. Yet here she was, in her underwear, and Anthony was acting like it was no big deal to ask her to go topless in front of him.

She took a deep breath, then she whimpered a little, and asked plaintively, “Could you at least close your eyes, please?”

He chuckled. “Emily, I can’t exactly take your measurements with my eyes closed, can I? Besides, I might accidentally put my hand in the wrong place ... and neither of us wants that, do we?”

Emily shivered. “No, I guess not.” She hesitated for a long moment, then steeled herself. “Okay, here goes...” She reaches behind her back, unclasped her bra, and then pulled it off her shoulders, keeping one arm in front of her bare breasts as she slipped the bra down both arms and off entirely. She dropped it on to the floor, with her other clothes, and then stood nervously, feeling terribly exposed in just her shoes and panties.

“There!” said Anthony. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He pulled a tape measure out of his pocket, and approached her. “I’m sorry, but you’ll need to drop your arm please – I can’t measure you with it in the way like that.”

Her cheeks glowing crimson, Emily stared at the far wall past Anthony’s head as she lowered her arm to her side. She therefore did not see how lustfully he was now staring at her naked breasts.

“My my,” he said. “What beautiful breasts! You must be very proud of them, Emily.”

Emily’s stomach cramped. She knew Anthony was just trying to be nice, but she wished he would hurry up and take his measurement so that she could put her bra back on. “Th...thank you,” she stammered.

“Okay, let’s get this measurement,” said Anthony. “Lift your arms up please.” He stepped up to her, and as she raised her arms, he put his around her, almost hugging her, moving in so close that her breasts were pressing against his shirt. Then he stepped back, now holding the tape in both hands, and he drew the two ends together in front of her. Emily could feel the cool plastic pressing against her nipples.

“Forty-four!” said Anthony. “Now for your band size...” He grinned at her gorgeous round nipples as he lowered the tape measure. “Just need to lift your breasts out of the way, sorry...”

Emily gasped as she felt his hand cup the underside of her right breast, and then the underside of her left, before the tape was pulled tight around her ribcage beneath her breasts. She could scarcely believe that she was just standing here helplessly in just her panties and shoes, while a man stood in front of her, touching her breasts and looking at them while he measured her. If her parents could see her now... She shivered.

“Thirty-two, so that’s thirty-six,” Anthony muttered. “36H – very nice.”

“Really?” asked Emily in surprise. “Are you certain? I was a 38E just three months ago!”

“That’s possible,” Anthony admitted. “Honestly you’re kinda borderline between 36H and 38F, but your underbust measurement is closer to 32 than 33, so I’m going with 36. Is it possible you’ve slimmed down a little in the last three months? Maybe enough to lose half an inch off your underbust measurement? That’s all it would take.”

“I guess,” admitted Emily. “I think my breasts might have gotten a bit bigger though.”

Anthony nodded. “Yes, well that’s also possible, with you being so young, and it would only take an extra inch to move you from E to F. So really, the difference between 38E and 36H is not that big. You’d probably fit a 38F bra just fine.”

“Oh dear – and I just bought a bunch of 38Es!” said Emily. “They seemed to fit very well!”

“And that too is possible,” said Anthony. “Bra sizes vary from store to store – what sells as an E cup in one might be sold as an F in another. Ultimately you should just buy what feels best on you, whether or not it matches your measured bust size. If you like the bras you’ve bought, then that’s great – stick with them.”

He seemed so knowledgeable and professional now that Emily was starting to feel a little – just a little – less mortified about her state of undress in front of him. “Thank you,” she said.

“I’ll just go and see what I can find for you,” said Anthony. “You can put your bra back on.”

He turned and walked away, and Emily stooped and picked up her bra. Once it was back on, she felt much better, even though she was still dressed only in her underwear.

“Okay,” said Anthony, returning a few moments later. “Well I won’t deny that you’re a tricky shape to find form-fitting clothes for, but let’s see how this goes.”

“I’m sorry,” said Emily.

“For what?” said Anthony. “Emily, never apologise for your shape. Honestly I’d say that to you if you were shaped like a potato, but are you kidding me? You have a figure to die for. Like I said yesterday, you’re a dressmaker’s dream. Yours is the kind of body that deserves custom-made clothing, and I’m just sorry we don’t do that here. But I’m doing my best.”

“Thank you,” said Emily appreciatively. “You’re very kind.”

Anthony was struggling to keep his erection under control. ‘I’ve just got to see those boobs again,’ he was saying to himself. ‘I’ve just got to! But how can I persuade her to take her bra off again?’ Out loud he said, “Here, try this blouse on. It shouldn’t be quite as tight as the last one.”

Emily put it on, and buttoned it up. It was still fairly tight around the chest, and still gaped a little between the buttons, but it was not as indecently tight as the one she had worn at work today. There was, however, another issue. “It’s see-through!” she said nervously.

“Yes, this one is a little bit sheer,” agreed Anthony. “There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, as long as you’re wearing a bra, but if you’re not used to sheer blouses I can understand if you’re uneasy at the prospect of wearing this one to work. I like it though because it’s got some room in the chest while being relatively slim around the waist, which suits you very well.”

Emily blushed. “I ... I’m just not sure I can bring myself to wear a see-through blouse to work,” she said apologetically.

Anthony nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “Why don’t you try this one, then?” He held up another blouse.

Emily took off the sheer blouse and gave it back to Anthony, then she took the one he was offering, and put it on. This one was even less tight around the chest – it fit her practically perfectly, in fact – and moreover it was nice and opaque. “I like this one!” she said.

“Ugh, but it’s a disaster around your middle,” said Anthony, wrinkling his nose. “Just awful. It’s like a sack.”

Disappointed, Emily tugged at the loose material around her belly. “I ... I guess so,” she said reluctantly.

“Well, I’m out of options,” said Anthony. “I have other blouses, of course, but I’m constrained by the need for uniformity between you and your colleagues. I’m afraid it’s either the one I gave you yesterday, or the sheer one.”

Emily bit her lip. At least she had got through one shift with the tight blouse he had given her yesterday. She could no doubt survive more. “I guess I’ll stick with the one I have,” she said glumly, as she started to unbutton the latest blouse. “I just can’t bring myself to wear a sheer blouse to work. I just wish the one I have wasn’t so tight!”

“Well,” said Anthony thoughtfully, “have you considered wearing it without a bra?”

Emily’s jaw dropped, and she paused in the middle of pulling her left arm out of its sleeve. “No!” she said awkwardly. “Of course not.”

“I know that sounds like it would be worse,” said Anthony, “but think about it. That blouse isn’t sheer, so nothing would show through. And as supportive as a bra is, it’s still added bulk which can make a blouse feel tighter than it really is. Also, it lifts the bust and holds it in place, meaning that the widest part of the chest is in a fixed position, which might not be the roomiest part of the blouse. And without a bra, your breasts will be more inclined to conform to the shape of the blouse. I know that doesn’t sound comfortable, but it might be better than the alternative. Why not try it, at least? If it doesn’t work for you – for any reason at all – then by all means wear a bra to work. But at least you’ll have tried every option.”

Emily finished taking off her blouse, and she handed it to Anthony. “I guess I could give it a try,” she said dubiously, thinking she could do so in her bedroom this evening.

“Good!” said Anthony. “Why not try it now? I’ll give you my expert opinion.”

Blood was roaring in Emily’s ears. Anthony was looking at her so expectantly that she felt somehow obliged to do as he suggested, even though the last thing she wanted to do was to take off her bra again in front of him. Of course, he had already seen her breasts – would it be such a big deal for him to see them briefly again? Reaching behind her back, she wordlessly unclasped her bra again, and pulled it off her shoulders.

“Excellent,” said Anthony, grinning happily as he feasted his eyes on her breasts once more.

It was only then that Emily realised her work blouse was still folded up neatly in her bag. Squatting down, she opened up her bag and took out the blouse. She stood up, opened it out, and stuck her right arm into the sleeve. As Anthony eagerly watched, she put her left arm in, and began buttoning it up as quickly as she could. She did not notice Anthony’s grin fade as her breasts vanished from view.

“Well that looks better, I think!” said Anthony, when she was done. “The gaps between the buttons aren’t stretched so wide as they were before.”

“Maybe,” Emily conceded, though she could not see much difference.

“Trust me, it looks a lot better,” said Anthony. “But don’t take my word for it; come and look in the mirror.”

He led her over to a full-length mirror, and she stood in front of it, regarding herself critically. “It’s kind of obvious I’m not wearing a bra,” she said unhappily. She was also not happy about this reminder that she was still wearing nothing over her panties.

“Only because you know what you look like with and without one,” said Anthony. “I doubt it would be obvious to anyone else. Considering how big they are, your breasts lose very little height when unsupported. I would even go so far as to say that until you get older and your breasts lose some of that youthful firmness, you might be better off going without bras entirely. But that of course is up to you.”

Emily blushed. She could not help feeling a little flattered, but all the same, she wished he would stop talking about her breasts. “I ... I don’t think that would be decent,” she said in a small voice.

“There’s nothing indecent about going braless,” he assured her. “Your breasts are covered, aren’t they? The only problem here is that they’re so big, they’re threatening to pop off those buttons. But look ... if I may...” He reached over, and unfastened the topmost button. “There – that’s one button that’s no longer in danger of popping off.”

Emily’s cheeks reddened further. “But now I’m showing too much of my chest!”

“Says who?” inquired Anthony. “I doubt anyone in this city would bat an eyelid at that amount of cleavage. Or even,” he undid another button, “this much.”

Emily gasped. A considerable expanse of both of her breasts was now exposed by the gaping wide V that the neckline of the stretched blouse had become. “That’s way too revealing!” she exclaimed. She hastily refastened the lower of the two buttons that Anthony had undone.

“I think you may have different standards than me as to what’s too revealing,” said Anthony, “but the decision is yours, of course.”

Emily stared at her reflection, at the inner curves of her breasts, still showing between the splayed halves of her blouse. She shuddered, and fastened the next button up. “I’m sorry,” she said plaintively, “I’m just not used to showing so much of my chest.”

“That’s totally fine,” said Anthony soothingly. “Are you okay with this look, at least?”

Emily bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she said uneasily. “I’ve never gone without a bra before – not since I ... you know ... started developing.”

“And I’m sure it wouldn’t have been acceptable in the community you grew up in,” said Anthony. “Here, though, you’ll find things are different.”

“I’ve already discovered that,” said Emily ruefully. “I feel like a fish out of water.” She stared at her chest, at the blouse, at the way her bare breasts strained against the material. “Are you sure this looks okay?” she asked anxiously.

“It looks fine!” said Anthony. “And you’ll find it more comfortable too. Bras are great for holding your breasts in place, but even the best of them aren’t exactly the most comfy garments.”

Emily bit her lip. “Okay, I’ll give this a try,” she said. But she told herself that she would take a bra with her to work, just in case she changed her mind.

“Great!” said Anthony. “I guess that brings us to your skirt. I have only a couple options, I’m afraid, beyond what we tried yesterday ... but I’m hopeful that one of them will prove better than your current skirt.” He fetched two skirts from a nearby counter where he had set them down, and handed one of them to her. “Let’s try this one first.”

Emily stepped into it and pulled it up, glad to be able to cover her panties at last. This skirt was rather longer than the one she had worn to work today, and she hoped it would fit well. But she quickly found that it was too tight around the hips, and as she zipped it up, Anthony sighed. “Too much strain on that zipper,” he said. “It won’t last long like that. Okay, take it off.”

With a rueful nod, Emily unzipped the skirt, pulled it down, and stepped out of it. As she handed it back to Anthony, he gave her the other skirt, and she opened it out and stepped into it, noting that it was rather shorter than the other one. As she pulled it up around her hips, she realised that it had a high waist, and was therefore even shorter than she had thought. She zipped it up, feeling very concerned about how much leg she was showing.

“Why, that’s perfect!” said Anthony. “A perfect fit for both your waist and your hips! It could have been made just for you! I had a feeling about this one; its flared design suits a low waist-to-hips ratio.”

“It’s very short, though,” Emily objected apologetically, feeling stressed by his enthusiastic endorsement of the garment. “It’s even shorter than my current one, and the whole point was to get me a longer one.”

“Ah, well, you see,” said Anthony, “as a general rule I’m more concerned with how well an item fits, than how much leg or cleavage it shows. And that skirt fits you beautifully. Come over to the mirror, Emily.”

Reluctantly she followed him, and then stood nervously in front of her reflection. The skirt looked indecently short; perhaps two inches shorter than the one she had worn at the coffee shop today. It was even shorter than the denim skirt that Sasha had bought for her (despite her objections).

“How gorgeous do you look right now?” said Anthony. “I mean seriously! Elegant, sexy, yet professional.”

“But I don’t want to be sexy!” said Emily in a near-whimper. “I want to be covered!”

“That’s your religious community talking,” said Anthony. “But you’re not dressing for them, now; you’re dressing for the city, and for the coffee shop. And in that context, I think you look just great.”

Emily quailed. “But I feel so exposed!”

“Right now, you do, of course,” said Anthony. “But I promise you, you’ll get used to it. After all – tell me honestly – how did you feel at work today? You were pretty much this exposed; were you in a constant state of panic?”

“Well, no...” Emily had to admit. “I did kind of get used to it...”

“And that’s the way of it,” said Anthony. “I guarantee you’ll get used to the shortness of this skirt, until you think nothing of it. You just need to try to get over your initial gut reaction, and then you’ll feel much less stressed and can actually just focus on doing a good job ... which is what matters, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” agreed Emily. She looked at herself again. “I guess ... this isn’t a whole lot different from how I looked today...”

“That’s the spirit,” said Anthony encouragingly. “It’s a pity about the strain on those poor buttons, though. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to try it with even just one of them undone?” He reached over, and popped open the uppermost button that was still fastened. Once again, her neckline jumped outward in a wide V, showing off part of her cleavage.

Emily gulped. “I’m just ... I’m afraid to be seen like this,” she said. “I’m afraid of what people will think when they look at me.”

“Is that because of what you think about other women who show off a bit of cleavage?” Anthony asked her gently.

Emily’s cheeks flushed. “Maybe,” she admitted.

“But most people here in the city haven’t grown up in a community like yours,” said Anthony. “They’re not thinking the same thing. But you don’t need to take my word for it. Before your shift tomorrow, go talk to Marv. Show him your uniform, as it is now, and ask his opinion. He’s a good guy, he’ll be honest with you. If he thinks you’re showing too much chest, he’ll tell you. If he doesn’t ... well, hopefully you’ll take his word for it that you look good, if you won’t take mine.”

Emily immediately felt abashed. “Oh it’s not that I don’t trust your opinion, Anthony,” she said, turning toward him. “It’s just that there’s a lot of ... uh ... culture, I guess? My upbringing ... the fact that women are supposed to be modest.”

Anthony nodded. “I understand,” he said. “But tell me ... do you think that a woman wearing skimpy clothes is obliged to behave sluttishly, just because she’s in skimpy clothes?”

“Of course not!” said Emily.

“Then clothing doesn’t dictate behaviour, right?” Anthony continued.

“Right..,” said Emily uncertainly.

“Then modesty,” Anthony concluded, “is not about what you wear but about what you do. And as long as you behave modestly, you are being true to your upbringing, no matter what you’re wearing.”

“I ... I hadn’t thought about it like that,” said Emily. “But ... that does make sense...”

“Good!” said Anthony. “So you’ll wear this uniform tomorrow, and get Marv to give you his opinion on that button?”

“I ... I guess so,” said Emily.

“And without a bra?” Anthony pressed her.

Emily nodded reluctantly.

“Promise?” said Anthony, with a smile. When she looked up at him in surprise, he chuckled. “I just don’t want you sabotaging the progress you’ve made with self-doubt. I know that as a good Christian girl, if you promise, you’ll stay firm and resolute. I don’t imagine you would ever break a promise.”

“I wouldn’t,” said Emily sincerely. She bit her lip, then took a deep breath. “Okay ... I promise.”

“Great!” said Anthony. “Okay, take off that skirt, and give me your other one, and I’ll go and process the exchange.”

After Emily had taken off her skirt and handed it to Anthony, she suddenly realised that she had done so with no thought for her modesty; the act of exposing her panties to him had, in a very short time, come to seem almost ... normal. No doubt this was in part because of Anthony’s kindness and professionalism, but the revelation still made her feel uneasy; she should not feel so blasé about taking her clothes off in front of a strange man. It was supposed to feel horribly embarrassing! Yet somehow she had stood in front of him in her panties and shoes, her breasts fully on display, while he measured her bust and even ... she shuddered ... touched her breasts.

She thought about this while fetching her other skirt from her bag, unaware that he was grinning and rubbing his crotch as he stared at her panty-clad buttocks. By the time she straightened up and turned around, holding out her skirt, Anthony had composed himself. “Thank you,” he said.

While he was gone, Emily quickly put on her long skirt, and swapped her blouse for her bra and top. She felt very relieved to finally be fully dressed again. Carefully folding up her blouse, she put it back in her bag.

“Here you go,” said Anthony, returning with the skirt. “Pleasure doing business with you, Emily – enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, you too,” said Emily, tucking the skirt into her bag. “Bye Anthony.”

She left the store, and walked to 1726 Lansdowne Street. She buzzed Nathan’s apartment, and he let her in. A minute later, they were embracing in his doorway. “I missed you!” he said. “How was your first day at work?”

“It was good,” she said. “I feel like I picked up everything pretty quickly, and everyone was nice.”

“That’s great!” said Nathan.

“How about you?” Emily inquired. “Any luck on the job front?”

“Not yet,” Nathan confessed. “Sorry. I’m still looking though! I went through a couple of the local papers today.”

“That’s good,” said Emily, trying to sound encouraging. “Well done.”

“I also started working on a new song,” said Nathan. “It’s not finished yet, I was working on it when you arrived.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “I’m sorry for interrupting your creative process; would you like to keep working on it? I’ll make you some coffee if you like.”

“Thank you!” said Nathan. “That sounds great. Oh – Sasha was trying to get hold of you about half an hour ago. Want to call her on my phone?”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Sure! Um, but I don’t know how to use a smartphone...”

“It’s super easy,” Nathan assured her. “You should totally get one of your own, you know; they’re amazing.”

“Aren’t they really expensive though?” asked Emily doubtfully.

Nathan grinned. “That’s what credit cards are for!” he said. “Another great invention.” He had pulled out his phone; now he held it up to show her. “See? There’s the phone app. You just tap it, hit Contacts, scroll down ... and there’s Sasha, see? Just tap her name, and there you go.”

“You don’t have to enter her number?” asked Emily.

“It’s already in there!” said Nathan. “Go on, try it.”

Emily tapped Sasha’s name, and the screen changed abruptly. She tentatively held the phone to her ear, and heard a ringing tone. Then Sasha’s voice said, “Hi Nathan, what’s up?”

“Uh, it’s Emily,” said Emily.

“Emily!” said Sasha. “How was your first day on the job?”

“It was good!” said Emily. “My coworkers are nice, and the job isn’t too hard – I think I picked it up pretty well.”

“Great!” said Sasha. “Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to hit the gym with me after I finish my shift here. I get off at four-thirty.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Uh ... well ... I don’t know ... Nathan and I will be going out for dinner later; I’m not sure if we’ll have time...”

“Time for what?” asked Nathan.

Emily instinctively raised her hand to cup the mouthpiece of the phone, then realised there wasn’t one. “Sasha wants me to go to the gym with her.”

“Oh, cool!” said Nathan. “You should totally do that. We’ll just go out for dinner together after you’re done. We won’t need reservations at the place I have in mind.”

“Okay!” said Emily. “Sasha, that sounds nice. I don’t have anything to wear, though...”

“Meet me at the thrift store,” said Sasha. “We can find you an outfit here. And don’t forget to bring a towel; you’ll want to shower afterwards.”

“Okay,” said Emily.

Having kissed Nathan goodbye, she left the building and walked to the thrift store. She soon found Sasha, who looked at the clock on the wall, and grinned. “Perfect timing. Let’s find you some gym clothes.”

Emily smiled. “Sounds good – thank you.”

“First we’ll get you some yoga pants...” Sasha began.

“Pants?” said Emily. “Oh, I couldn’t wear pants...”

“Trust me, these are not a garment for guys,” said Sasha firmly. “Yoga pants are more like tights – they’re stretchy and form-fitting, but opaque. Super comfy, and sexy, too!”

“Okay...” said Emily dubiously.

“Would you prefer to wear shorts?” asked Sasha. “Surely you didn’t think you’d be working out in a dress...”

“No, of course not,” said Emily, her cheeks colouring. “I ... I guess I had shorts in mind ... but let’s see these yoga pants.”

“If you’d be more comfortable in shorts, we can certainly find you shorts,” said Sasha. “But I think you’ll like the yoga pants. Here, follow me.”

Five minutes later, Emily was in the changing room, looking nervously at her bottom in a pair of dark grey yoga pants. Sasha had not been exaggerating in her description; they were extremely form-fitting, conforming to the exact shape of her buttocks. They seemed quite indecent ... but she had to admit that they could not be mistaken for men’s clothes.

For her top half Sasha had picked out for her a ‘sports bra’ and a loose-fitting tank top. Either one of them on their own would be embarrassingly revealing ... but together, she conceded, they kind of worked. At any rate, this outfit was rather less revealing than her coffee shop uniform.

She emerged from the changing room. “What do you think?” she asked Sasha.

“You look great!” said Sasha. “Perfect for the gym. What about you, though – are you happy with it?”

Emily nodded. “I think so. I’ll get all three pieces.”

“Excellent,” said Sasha. “Next we need to get you a pair of sneakers. We don’t have a great selection here, though; we might have to go to a proper shoe store.”

As it happened, though, they found an acceptable pair in Emily’s size. “These’ll do!” said Emily happily, having tried them on.

“Excellent,” said Sasha.

With her purchases in a bag, Emily accompanied Sasha to the bus stop, where they chatted while they waited for the bus to arrive. Sasha was amused to hear that Emily had all but joined Nathan’s band. “Doesn’t seem like your kinda music,” she remarked with a chuckle.

“It really isn’t,” agreed Emily. “But, you know, Nathan’s so enthusiastic about it, and the other band members are nice ... I guess I’m doing it to be supportive, but I really hope this isn’t the extent of his ambition. He needs a proper job, or we’re never going to be able to get married.”

“Yeah, well, the job market in the city is kinda tough right now,” said Sasha. “Nathan was getting pretty discouraged there for a while. I think the band’s been good therapy for him. It’s given him a sense of purpose.”

“He’s already got a purpose!” said Emily, feeling a little indignant. “Get a job, so we can get married. I feel like he should be concentrating on that.”

“Okay, poor choice of words,” said Sasha. “I guess I meant ... a sense of accomplishment. Like, he’s actually achieving something. Honey, he knows he needs to find a job ... and he will. In the meantime, this is keeping his spirits up.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Emily with a sigh.

The bus arrived, and soon they were at the sports centre. This time, having got changed into her new workout clothes and her sneakers, Emily and Sasha headed for the gym. They were greeted by the most muscular man Emily had ever seen – a man with black hair, a tanned complexion, a roguish smile, and arms that made Emily think of pumpkins and scarecrow arms stuffed with too much straw.

“Hey Sasha,” he said, in a charmingly deep voice. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Emily,” said Sasha. “She’s new in town. Emily, this is Joey – one of the trainers here.”

“Hi Emily,” said Joey, turning his handsome smile towards her.

It was all Emily could do to stop herself from giggling like a schoolgirl. “Hi!” she gasped, not trusting herself to say anything more.

“You ladies have fun, all right?” said Joey. “Let me know if you need any help or advice, okay?”

As he walked away, Emily turned to Sasha. “Oh my gosh, he’s so muscly!” she whispered. “And handsome!”

Sasha snorted with laughter. “Yeah, I could tell you were quite impressed. I’m sure he’d be happy to give you some one-on-one training if you asked him. That’s what he’s here for, after all. Anyway, have a look around – see if there’s any particular piece of equipment you want to try out first.”

Emily cast her gaze around the room; there was a bewildering array of equipment, and she knew what barely half of it was for. “Hmmm. How about that thing?”

“The elliptical?” said Sasha. “Sure, let me show you how it works.” She taught Emily how to adjust the stride length, incline, and resistance level, and then set her going. “There you go,” she said. “I’m just going to spend some time on the treadmill – I’ll be right over there if you need me.”

After five minutes, Emily was already working up quite a sweat, and she was not used to this type of exercise, so she decided to take a little break. As she stepped off the machine, Joey sauntered over and casually leant his elbow on a nearby machine. “How’s it going?” he asked her.

“Good!” Emily panted, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed at how soon she had got off the elliptical. “I’m a little out of shape, I guess,” she said ruefully, “and I’m not used to this kind of machine.”

“It’s a good one for getting your workout started,” he said, “but even though it’s low-impact, you should really make sure you do some good stretching beforehand. It’ll help to loosen you up, and put less strain on your muscles.”

“Oh,” said Emily. “Sorry – I should have thought of that.”

“No worries!” he said. “I can never persuade Sasha to stretch; she just likes to launch herself into her workout.”

“I’ll do some stretching now,” Emily promised him.

“Good!” he said. “I can give you some pointers on effective stretching techniques, if you like.”

“That would be great!” said Emily, a little too enthusiastically. If her face had not already been red with exertion, Joey would have seen her blushing. She certainly had no thought of cheating on Nathan, but Joey was very nice to look at, and the thought of him giving her personal attention was giving her butterflies.

Joey grinned. “You look like you’re overheating a bit,” he remarked. “Looks like you’re wearing two tops; you might want to shed the outer one. You really shouldn’t need two.”

Emily smiled nervously. “The inner one’s just a sports bra though.”

Joey looked around the room, and pointed out a couple of other young women in sports bras. “They’re designed to be outerwear,” he said. “I understand if you’re not proud of how your body looks, but please believe me, this is a judgment-free zone. We get all shapes and sizes of people in here. It doesn’t matter what your body is like; what matters is that you’re here, trying to improve it.”

Emily smiled bashfully. “It’s just that I’m not used to showing so much skin. I grew up in a very strict religious community, and I’ve always been very ... covered up. The city’s kind of been a shock to the system – women seem to wear so little here! And I’m trying to get used to that, but it’s ... not easy.”

“Interesting!” said Joey. “Well, why not let this be another step on your road to self-discovery? I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable with just a single layer on.”

And he looked at her so expectantly that Emily began to feel as if she would be letting him down if she did not follow his suggestion. And she very much did not want to disappoint him. So, with a slightly sheepish smile, she said, “I guess you’re right.” And she pulled her tank top up and over her head.

Her sports bra was low-cut enough to reveal some cleavage, and Joey’s eyes were immediately drawn to it. “There you go!” he said. “Well you’ve certainly got nothing to be ashamed of! What a body! Of course, it could benefit from a little bit of toning, but that’s why you’re here, right?”

Emily nodded, blushing furiously. To get such a compliment from as perfect a physical specimen as Joey was extremely flattering ... and it made her want to earn further praise from him. She was embarrassed to be showing her bare belly and so much of her chest, but it helped that – as Joey had noted – other women in the room were dressed similarly. (Even more skimpily, in some cases; one woman was wearing a ridiculously tiny pair of shorts that her buttocks were peeping out of.) It also helped that she had been more exposed than this today; she shuddered at the recollection of how much of her body Anthony had seen.

“Right,” said Joey, “let’s start with the arms. Clasp your hands together like this; then raise your arms up above your head, palms upward ... good ... and now gently press them backward, keeping your arms straight ... yes. And hold, for ten seconds.” He reached out and stroked her triceps with his hands. “You should feel it right here.”

“I do,” Emily confirmed, her eyes widening at the touch.

“All right,” he said. “Now put your hands out in front of you...” He talked her through a couple more arm stretches, and Emily obediently followed his instructions. Then he said, “All right, let’s see how flexible you are. Can you touch your toes while keeping your legs straight?”

“Of course,” said Emily, and demonstrated.

“Good!” he said. “That looks easy for you; can you put your hands flat on the floor like that?”

“Sure,” said Emily, and she bent down lower, pressing her palms to the floor in front of her feet.

“Okay, very good,” said Joey, stepping behind her to admire the way her yoga pants clung to the curves of her buttocks. “Now, as much as you are able, I want you to arch your back, so you really give these hamstrings a good stretch.” And he placed his hands on the backs of her thighs, gently rubbing them up and down while Emily attempted to arch her back. “There, that’s it – can you feel the stretch?”

“Yes, I can feel it!” gasped Emily, rather flustered by the sensation of his strong hands caressing her thighs.

“Great,” said Joey, giving her thighs a final squeeze before letting go. “Now sit down, with the soles of your feet pressed together.”

Emily bent her legs and sat down, spreading her knees out and pressing the soles of her shoes together. Joey sat down behind her, spreading his legs either side of her and scooting forward until his torso was touching her back. Emily shivered as he laid his hands on her shoulders.

“Okay,” he said, “grab your ankles and pull your feet towards you as far as you comfortably can. Good. Now place your hands on your knees, and gently push them down towards the floor, until you can really feel the stretch right here.” He put his arms around her waist, reaching down to grasp her inner thighs with his hands. Then he began to stroke her thighs, and squeezing while he stroked, as he leaned over her left shoulder and peered down into her cleavage. “Can you feel it!” he asked her.

“Yes!” she gasped, simultaneously aroused and anxious. He was touching her so intimately! Was this a standard part of the training, or was he taking advantage of her? It felt very nice, and he was a very handsome man ... was she just flattering herself to think that he might be pushing his luck with her? If he was, then she should tell him to back off ... but what if she did so, and he was offended at the suggestion that he was doing anything improper? She was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt ... except that his hands seemed to be creeping steadily higher and higher up her thighs, getting near to...

“Good!” he said, letting go of her thighs. “Now stretch your legs out in front of you, reach forward, and grab your toes with your hands.”

She did so. The awkward moment had passed, and nothing bad had happened. She was relieved that she had not overreacted; clearly he had just been doing his job. But how nice it had felt!

During the last couple of stretches, Joey continued to put his hands on her, stroking the places where she could feel her muscles being stretched ... and the fact that these places were not particularly intimate (calves and upper back) reinforced her opinion that Joey had not been doing anything improper.

“That’s it!” he said eventually. “You’re good to go. Any questions before I leave you to your own devices?”

“Um ... do you have any recommendations on what I should focus on?” Emily asked.

“Honestly,” he said, “you’ll benefit the most from a mixture of cardio and all-over strength training. Mix it up. Spend five minutes each on several different machines. If your legs get tired, spend some time on your arms, and vice versa. If you want to lift weights, I’ll help you find the right weight for each lifting technique, and advise you on how many reps to aim for.”

“Yes please!” said Emily. “I’ve never had any proper instruction on weight training.”

“Now?” asked Joey. “Well sure! Come on over here.”

He spent the next ten minutes instructing her, and setting her up with various exercises, but aside from occasionally posing her arms in certain positions, he hardly touched her. Emily was inclined to feel a little disappointed at this, but then she told herself that it proved he was a gentleman and had only been touching her thighs in order to demonstrate the benefits of the stretching exercises.

Unfortunately, while setting a pair of dumbbells back on the weights rack, Emily felt a sharp twinge in her shoulder. She winced, and reached back to rub it.

“Something wrong?” asked Joey. “Did you pull a muscle?”

“I think so,” she said. “Ugh.”

“Best thing for a muscle strain is just to rest it and give it time,” said Joey. “It could take anything from a few hours to a few days to heal. In the meantime, you can still do any exercises that don’t involve that shoulder. A massage might help, too.”

“Do you do massages?” Emily asked, trying not to sound eager.

“Not me personally,” said Joey, “but they do massages at the spa, and your membership will cover one massage per week. You do have to book in advance though.”

“I’m not a member,” said Emily ruefully. “I’m just here as Sasha’s guest.”

“Ah,” said Joey. “Well, it’s only thirty dollars a month! Great value, if you consider what comes with it: swimming, racquetball, unlimited access to the gym, a weekly massage and other spa treatments ... you should really consider signing up.”

“I’d love to,” said Emily, “but money’s a little tight right now.”

“I totally understand,” said Joey, nodding. “I’ve been there, believe me. Just make sure you take some time, a few times a week, to get some exercise in. Just because you’re short of cash doesn’t mean you can’t take care of your body. You just have to get a little creative.” He smiled.

Emily‘s heart fluttered at that smile. “Well it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Joey,” she said, a little breathlessly. “Thank you for all your help.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “I really hope I’ll see you here again soon.”

“Me too!” said Emily.

She looked around for Sasha, and found her using a machine that allowed her to lift weights by pulling on handles attached to metal cables. She was pulling with one arm, then the other, over and over again, looking very focused. But she stopped what she was doing as Emily approached, and grinned. “How’s it going? Getting comfortable with Joey there, I see.”

Emily blushed. “He was being very nice and helpful,” she said.

“Yeah I’m sure,” said Sasha, still grinning. “You ready to go? Looks like you could use a cold shower.”

“Oh hush!” said Emily reproachfully. “I can’t help it that he’s strong and handsome. But Nathan doesn’t have anything to worry about, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d never do anything ... like that.”

Sasha suppressed her grin, and nodded. “Of course you wouldn’t,” she said. “I was just teasing. I don’t blame you for getting hot and bothered over Joey – he’s in great shape and he’s a good-looking guy. But aside from that, how was your workout?”

“It was good!” said Emily. “My arms are dead, though! We mostly did weights stuff.” She sighed. “I wish I could make this a regular thing. Joey suggested I get a membership here, and I really want one ... but I just can’t justify the expense.”

Sasha shrugged. “Why not? You’re working, aren’t you? And you’ve got free room and board, as I understand it.“

“Yes,” Emily conceded, “but I’m supposed to be helping Nathan become self-sufficient and able to support us, so we can get married.”

Sasha snorted. “Why should he have to support you? Support yourself! You’ve got one job already, but it’s only part-time; why not get another part-time job and then you can be completely self-reliant. Nathan’s sweet, but let’s face it, he’s unemployed right now and has been for a while. You shouldn’t wait for him to step up! Take your destiny in your own hands. And if you want to use some of your earnings for a sports centre membership, why the hell shouldn’t you? It’s your money! If Nathan gets to spend his money on a TV and an Xbox and a smartphone and a laptop and whatever else, you should surely be allowed a gym membership!”

Emily stared at her. “Nathan ... really bought all those things?”

Sasha suddenly looked guilty. “Uh, I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

“It’s fine,” said Emily, feeling troubled. “I mean, I knew he had some savings. I just hope he hasn’t frittered them all away.”

“The point is,” said Sasha firmly, “you shouldn’t just rely on Nathan. Be your own person!”

The thought of becoming self-reliant made Emily feel all kinds of nervous, but even so, Sasha’s words awoke something inside her. “I guess you’re right!” she said. “At least ... I feel like maybe I should allow myself a monthly membership to this place. Like Joey said, it’s important to keep myself fit and healthy.”

“Exactly,” said Sasha. “Shall we hit the showers?”

Emily nodded. “And I guess I should make mine a cold one!” She giggled, and Sasha laughed.

After they had both showered and changed, they headed for the front desk, and Emily signed up for a recurring monthly membership.

“Here’s your card,” said the receptionist, handing her a purple plastic card. A name tag on her uniform identified her as Kendall. “Just sign your name on the back, please.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, taking the card and pulling a pen out of a cup on the counter. “Um ... could I also please make an appointment for a massage?”

“Sure,” said Kendall. “We have some slots open this evening.”

“I was thinking tomorrow, please,” said Emily. “I’m going out to dinner with my fiancé this evening.”

“Uh-huh,” said Kendall, uninterested. “What time?”

Emily thought for a moment. “Do you have something around four-o’clock?”

“Four-fifteen,” said Kendall. “With Alex.”

“Perfect!” said Emily.

As the two young women left the sports centre, Emily turned to Sasha. “It’s after six. Maybe I should call Nathan. I don’t suppose I could borrow your phone...?”

“Of course,” said Sasha. “But jeez, Emily – you don’t even have a phone? Like, not even an old-fashioned flip-phone or anything?”

Emily blushed. “I’ve never needed one! At least, I’ve always gotten along fine without one. Life in Oakwood is a little different from this, Sasha. We do have phones, of course, but we do just fine with landlines. And if we need the internet, well, we do have computers.”

“But, but,” said Sasha in exasperation, “what if you want to take an impromptu photo with your friends? Do you lug a camera around with you wherever you go?”

Emily shrugged. “I guess I just bring out my camera for special occasions. Other times, it just wouldn’t occur to me to take a photo.”

Sasha sighed. She pulled out her phone, dialled Nathan, and handed it over to Emily.

“Hi Sasha,” said Nathan.

“Hi Nathan!” said Emily. “It’s me – Emily!”

“Oh!” said Nathan. “Hi Baby! Are you at the gym?”

“We just left,” said Emily. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sounds good!” said Nathan. “Did you have fun?”

Emily’s cheeks coloured slightly, and she felt a little guilty. “Yes thanks. I ... I actually joined. You know, got a membership. I’d like to get in better shape.”

“Oh!” said Nathan. “Well, that’s great! I look forward to hearing all about it at dinner.”

“Um, okay,” said Emily. “See you soon!”

“Bye Babe,” he said.

Emily hit the red button to end the call, and handed the phone back to Sasha. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” said Sasha. “But on our next shopping trip, maybe we can get you a phone.”

“More expense!” Emily groaned. “I know it’ll be useful, but...”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you a cheap one,” said Sasha, amused.

Half an hour later, they were back at Nathan’s apartment. Clive was there; he picked Sasha up and carried her through to his bedroom, for some reason. Mack was also there, he waved to Emily from the couch as she entered.

Nathan emerged from his room. “Hi Baby!” he said with a smile.

Emily was pleased to see that he had put on a nice shirt. She spread her arms for a hug, and he picked her up and spun her around, making her giggle. “Ready to go?” she asked him.

“Sure!” he said. “You like Italian food, right?”

“I do,” she confirmed.

“Great, then let’s go,” he said.

“Mind if I leave my bags here?” asked Emily.

“Sure,” said Nathan, taking them from her. “I’ll just put them in my room.”

On the street outside, as they walked to the restaurant, Emily said, “Thank you for wearing a shirt. You look nice.”

“You look nice too,” he said. “Is that a new skirt?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “At least, it’s new to me – I got it at Sasha’s thrift store. It’s a nice antidote to my work uniform – ugh.”

“I think I want to see this uniform of yours,” said Nathan. “It sounds ... sexy.”

Emily pursed her lips. “Perhaps it is,” she said. “But I don’t want to look sexy for the general public; I want to look sexy just for you.”

“Well, maybe I could swing by your coffee shop tomorrow,” Nathan suggested.

Emily shuddered. “I’d rather you didn’t!” she said. “It’s bad enough for strangers to see me like that.”

Nathan’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t you just say you wanted to look sexy for me?”

“In private!” said Emily. “And as part of ... you know ... our courtship. I don’t want you witnessing my public embarrassment.”

“Oh,” said Nathan, sounding disappointed. “Just seems a shame that your customers get to see you in a sexy uniform, and I’m not allowed to.”

“Do you want me to quit the job?” Emily asked, feeling a little defensive. “I will if you want. It’s not like I want to display myself like that!”

“No, no,” said Nathan hastily. “I don’t mind you dressing sexily in front of your customers; I just wish I could see you like that too. Do you think, maybe, later this evening, you could ... show me what I’ve been missing...?”

Emily blushed. “Let’s see how the evening goes,” she said.

They arrived at the restaurant, and entered. It was called Romano’s, and it quickly became apparent why no reservation was necessary; the place was practically empty. A middle-aged woman of sturdy build and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail came over and favoured them with a tight-lipped smile. “Table for two?”

“Yes please,” said Nathan.

She led them to a table halfway along the far wall, and handed them menus. “Can I get you some drinks?”

“Uh, just a coke for me please,” Nathan replied.

“We only got Pepsi products,” she said.

“Pepsi will be fine – thank you,” said Nathan.

“Do you have cranberry juice?” Emily asked hopefully. It had always been her favourite drink.

“Sure do,” said the woman. “Nick will be out shortly with your drinks.” Then she turned and walked away in the direction of the kitchen.

Emily perused the menu. “Hmm,” she said, “I like the sound of the ravioli.”

Nathan nodded. “We can get appetizers if you want. The bruschetta looks good.”

“I don’t want to put too much of a strain on your finances!” said Emily with a little laugh.

“Hey, how often do I get to take my beautiful fiancée out to dinner?” said Nathan with a grin. “Don’t worry about the cost; it’s fine, really.”

Emily smiled, and nodded. “In that case, yes, the bruschetta sounds very nice.”

“All right then!” said Nathan. Then he pushed his chair back. “I’m just going to run to the restroom – I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” said Emily. As Nathan headed off to the men’s room, she continued to look through the menu. A couple of minutes later, Nathan returned, and sat down.

A squinting grey-haired man approached the table in a waiter’s uniform; he looked about seventy years old. “Good evening,” he said, peering at Nathan. “Sir.” Then he turned to peer at Emily, and his watery grey eyes widened. “And Madam!” He did not look or sound Italian – in fact he sounded as if he might be English. Or Australian; Emily could never tell the two accents apart. He set down the two glasses he was carrying; one in front of Emily and the other in front of Nathan, who glanced at his fiancée as if to say ‘Don’t worry, we’ll swap drinks after he’s gone.’

“Now then,” said the waiter. “I’m Nick. Er, let’s see, yes. Are you ready to order or would you like a few more minutes?”

“I think we’re ready,” said Nathan. “Can we start with Bruschetta, please? One for each of us. And then I’ll have the lasagna, and my fiancée will have the ravioli.”

Emily had not yet firmly decided on the ravioli, but she let it go; she was sure it would be nice.

“Very good, yes, absolutely,” said Nick. “I’ll be back shortly with your bruschetta.” He turned, peered down at the floor as if to make sure it was still there, and then shuffled off towards the kitchen.

“What a weird guy!” said Nathan in a low voice, amused. “Looks like maybe he lost his glasses!”

“Or just misplaced them,” said Emily, swapping Nathan’s drink and hers. “But yes, he does seem rather near-sighted.”

The bruschetta, when it arrived, was palatable, but not exactly the tastiest that Emily had ever eaten. She thought perhaps the bread might not be very fresh. Nevertheless, she finished it. “How much do you want to bet that Nick will give us the wrong entrées?” asked Nathan with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t take that bet,” said Emily, amused. Then she gave him a look of mock disapproval. “Besides, betting is immoral, Nathan Carter, as well you know.”

“Yes of course,” he agreed, grinning. “My apologies. Naturally I wouldn’t bet real money.”

When Nick returned, he was carrying more than just their entrées. Somehow he was managing to carry two bowls of salad as well; a feat which would have looked impressive had it not seemed like an accident waiting to happen. While the salad bowls appeared to be relatively under control, clasped firmly in his hands, the dinner plates wobbled dangerously on his forearms as he approached the table.

“For you, sir,” he said, carefully setting down Nathan’s food. Unfortunately he was concentrating so hard on Nathan’s plate of lasagna and bowl of salad, that he lost control of the plate of ravioli balanced on his other arm. As soon as he realised this, he dropped everything and made a grab for the plate, which had landed near to the edge and with enough lateral momentum to carry it over, on to Emily’s lap. Emily herself hastily raised her hands to stop it, but Nick’s hands knocked into the plate from the far side, flipping it over and catapulting its contents towards Emily, painting red marinara sauce in a messy stripe up the front of her top. The ravioli themselves splatted against her chest and then slid downward, piling up in her lap.

Emily squealed in horror. Nick cried “Oh no!” Nathan burst out with a laugh that he hastily turned into a cough, then he said “Good grief!” and managed to look simply shocked.

“I am so sorry!” exclaimed Nick, bending down to peer closely at Emily’s chest. “Oh my lord, that’s going to stain. Let me go and get some wet cloths.” He turned and shuffled back towards the kitchen.

“Ugh, look at me!” Emily groaned. She began picking up pieces of ravioli and putting them on her plate. “My top and my skirt – just covered in it!”

Nathan could barely suppress his laughter. “Worst waiter ever!” he said. “Aww come on, Emily, can’t you see the funny side? Isn’t this just the most ridiculous thing?”

“Easy for you to see the funny side – it isn’t you that’s covered in red sauce!” said Emily, rather aggrieved.

“You’re right – I’m sorry,” said Nathan. “There’s a laundry room back at our apartment building – we can have your clothes washed pretty quickly.”

“But what will I wear in the meantime?” Emily wailed.

Nathan licked his lips. “Your barista uniform, maybe...?”

She glared at him. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood to show you that right now.”

Nathan nodded. “I’m sure we can find you something to wear,” he said.

“Or I could just go straight home to the Davises, and use their washing machine,” said Emily pointedly.

“You could do that,” Nathan conceded.

Emily sighed. “Nick was right, though – this will stain if I don’t wash the sauce out. I’d better go to the restroom and see if I can clean myself up with wet paper towels.”

“They don’t have any,” said Nathan. “At least, if it’s like the men’s room, they just have a hot air dryer.”

“Ugh,” said Emily.

The door to the kitchen opened, and out came Nick, carrying a large plastic bowl and with several small greyish cloths draped over one arm. He made his way carefully over to Emily and Nathan, and set the bowl down. It was half-filled with water.

“I have a lot of experience with stain prevention,” he said. “Please allow me to do what I can to prevent your top and skirt from staining. It’s the least I can do.”

“Um, I think I’d probably better do it myself,” said Emily uneasily.

“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” said Nathan. “Let the guy fix his mistake.”

“Uh ... okay...” said Emily dubiously.

“Thank you,” said Nick. He set the cloths down in a pile, then picked up the top one, and soaked it in the water. “The water’s cold,” he explained. “Hot water would speed up the chemical reaction between sauce and fabric that creates the stain.” Then he took the cloth in his right hand, squeezed out some of the excess water, and then reached over and pressed it against Emily’s upper chest.

She gasped at the sudden cold wetness. “Oh goodness!” she said.

“Sorry,” Nick apologised. “I should have pulled your top away from your skin first.” He tucked his left hand into the neckline of her top, pulling it away from her chest, and then began rubbing, with the dripping wet cloth and the sodden material of the top sandwiched between his hands.

Emily felt very uncomfortable with Nick’s hand inside her top, but she took a small measure of solace in the fact that he was keeping well away from her breasts. The neckline of her top was high, but it was quite broad, so he was able to pull the front of it quite far from her chest. As she looked downward, though, she was a little uneasy to see her bra-clad breasts plainly visible from above, and from the way Nick was peering closely at what he was doing, with his face almost directly over his hands, she was sure that he could see her bra too – though he seemed to be focusing on her top.

It was all very embarrassing. There were only a few other diners – a middle-aged couple at one table, and a trio of young men at another – but they were all watching the show with amusement. Emily looked over at Nathan, who was trying not to laugh. She scowled at him.

Nick went back to the bowl to re-soak his cloth, and in doing so, to Emily’s relief, he removed his hand from inside her top. She looked down, and noted that he had actually done a good job so far of removing the sauce from her top.

Now ready to return to the job, he said, “I’d better do the rest from beneath, I think, rather than stick any more of my arm in from the top.”

“Yes, that sounds better,” Emily agreed.

“It you could just move your chair back a little...”

Emily complied, and Nick, with a muttered “Sorry about this”, took hold of the lower hem of her top and pulled it away from her belly, sliding his left hand up underneath it. Splaying his fingers behind the material, he once again pressed it and the newly wet cloth between his hands, and began to rub at the red marinara streaks.

Emily sat and endured this, but as Nick worked his way higher and higher up her top, she started to become concerned about how much of her belly he was exposing. She tried to ignore the grins of the other diners as they stared at her, but it was not easy. “This isn’t funny,” she hissed at Nathan, who was clearly highly amused by what was happening.

Then Nick, who was perhaps finding it uncomfortable to maintain his current stooped position, straightened up a little, and in doing so he inadvertently tugged Emily’s top upward several inches. Emily gasped as she felt it slide up her back, and she strongly suspected that part of her bra was now showing. “Don’t lift it so high!” she told Nick in a low but urgent voice, pushing down on his forearms with her hands.

“I’m so sorry!” he said, bending down again. But over the next half-minute or so, as he cleaned higher and higher, he exposed more and more of her belly, until once again the lower edge of her bra cups were peeping into view. The trio of young men had the best view of this, and they grinned and pointed and exchanged excited whispers.

“Nick!” said Emily anxiously.

“Hmm?” he said, straightening up. The front of Emily’s top popped up over the top of both of her breasts, almost completely exposing her bra, and she could feel it rise up her back, too, with most of the material at the sides getting rucked up beneath her armpits. She squealed, as Nathan buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking, and the men at the nearby table stared in delight.

Feeling mortified, Emily pulled her top down while Nick apologised profusely. “I’m so very sorry!” he said, having let go of her top entirely.

“I’m not sure this is working!” Emily gasped.

“Oh, it’s working!” said Nathan, barely suppressing snorts of laughter. “Your top’s looking much cleaner.”

“No, you’re right, Madam,” said Nick wretchedly. “I can only blame my age and stupidity. I owe you my deepest apologies.”

Emily could see how badly he felt about the incident. “It’s okay,” she reluctantly assured him. “Until that moment you were doing a good job. My top is much cleaner.”

“Thank you for saying so,” said Nick. “If you’ll permit me to finish the job, I will endeavour to preserve your modesty ... though I can understand if I have lost your trust.”

“Why don’t you give him another chance?” Nathan suggested, trying not to grin. “I’m sure he’ll be more careful.”

“I think at this point my top’s so wet I might as well rinse it under the tap in the restroom,” said Emily. “I should be able to get the rest of the sauce out.”

“If I might suggest, Madam,” said Nick, “since I am responsible for the spillage, I feel obliged to fix it myself – perhaps I could take your top with me to the kitchen and rinse it out there. The light is much better in there; I promise I’ll have your top completely clean in no time.”

“Good idea!” said Nathan. “Just slip it off, Emily...”

“Oh no!” said Nick, shocked. “Not out here!” He turned to Emily. “If you would be willing to wait in the restroom, you’ll have privacy there until I am done.”

Emily was by this point more than a little irritated by Nathan’s flippant attitude to the situation, and being a kindly soul, quick to forgive, she was feeling disposed to give Nick a chance to redeem himself. The man was clearly remorseful. “Nathan, please would you accompany me to the restroom,” she said primly. “I will take off my top, and you can give it to Nick. I’ll wait there until it is ready for me to put back on. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can with my skirt.”

Nathan nodded, and got to his feet as Emily pushed her chair back. He followed her to the restroom, and waited while she went in. A moment later, the door opened and her arm appeared, her top dangling from her hand.

“I’ll get this back to you soon,” he said, and he took the top over to Nico. “Here you go, Nick.”

“Thank you,” said Nick. “I’ll be right back. Have a good night!” This last remark was directed at the middle-aged couple, who were just leaving.

As Nico returned to the kitchen, Nathan sat down, and began to eat his lasagna, which was nice enough, if unexceptional. But the three young men were all still watching him in amusement. “Nice-looking woman, your girlfriend,” said one of them, clearly for his benefit.

Nathan chuckled, and turned towards them. “Yeah, she is,” he agreed.

“She’s got a couple of outstanding ... qualities,” the man continued, and his friends laughed.

“What can I say, I’m a lucky guy,” said Nathan, grinning.

“What’s she like in the sack?” asked another of the men. “Bet she’s dynamite; these quiet types are always the kinkiest...”

Nathan’s cheeks flushed. “All right guys, that’s enough. She’s my fiancée, and she’s a respectable woman.”

“Well congratulations,” said the first man, raising his glass. “Here’s to the both of you.”

“Thank you,” said Nathan, smiling.

Five minutes later, Nick came back out of the kitchen. Approaching the three men’s table, he said, “Can I get you gentlemen anything else?”

“Nope, just the cheque please,” said the man who had toasted Nathan and Emily.

“Of course,” said Nick, and he laboriously made a pile of plates, which he then took back into the kitchen.

When he returned, he gave the three men their bill, then he started back towards the kitchen. Nathan raised his hand to attract the waiter’s attention, but the old man did not notice.

A couple of minutes later, however, Nick returned, and this time he made straight for Nathan’s table. “How is your food, Sir?”

“It’s fine,” said Nathan, “but I’m actually more concerned about Emily’s top; have you finished cleaning it yet?”

“I had to give it a good soak in a fresh bowl of water,” said Nick.

“Oh my goodness!” said Nathan, alarmed.

“Don’t worry,” Nick assured him, “I’ll wring it out, and then dry it off under the hand dryer in the restroom.”

“Well ... okay,” said Nathan, not entirely convinced.

Nick collected the bill and a credit card from the three men’s table, and took them away to process the payment. Shortly afterwards, he returned to give them the little black folder with the bill and card inside, and once one of them had signed it and put his card away, the men got up to leave. “Good luck with your fiancée’s top!” said one of them.

“Thanks,” said Nathan.

The next time Nick came out, he put down a fresh plate of ravioli in Emily’s place. “Your fiancée’s top is clean,” he said. “I’ve set it up on a chair beneath the hot air dryer in the employees’ restroom; I’ll keep going back to check on it.”

“Thank you,” said Nathan. He had finished his lasagna now, so he got up and went over to the door of the restroom. “How’s it going in there?” he asked.

“Fine,” said Emily, a little shortly. “At least – not really. I can’t clean my skirt very well without taking it off. I thought I might as well just do it at home. If it ends up stained a little, it won’t matter as much as my top – with all the colours, it shouldn’t be obvious.”

“Okay,” said Nathan. “Nick brought out another plate of ravioli for you; why don’t you come and eat?”

“Don’t be silly!” said Emily. “I’ve got nothing but a bra on my top half!”

“Everyone’s gone, though,” said Nathan. “We’re the only diners left. The place is empty out here. Even the woman who met us when we arrived has vanished off somewhere. And we can’t be seen from outside, where we’re sitting.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Emily said, “There’s still Nick.”

“Oh, but he’s practically blind,” said Nathan. “And old. And he’s seen your bra already. Come on – you might as well eat while your food’s still hot.”

Emily hesitated. In truth, hanging out in the restroom was not her idea of a fun night out. And she was rather hungry. “All right,” she said reluctantly.

She opened the door, then stepped out, cautiously looking around. Nathan grinned at her bra-clad breasts. “Wow,” he said. “Such a pretty sight!”

Emily pursed her lips. “This isn’t for your entertainment,” she said. But then she smiled ruefully. “Still, it’s nice to know you like the way I look, I suppose.”

“I love it!” said Nathan. “You’re gorgeous, Baby!” And he took her in his arms, and kissed her.

This helped a lot to lift Emily’s mood. “Okay,” she said, smiling as she pulled away from the kiss. “Let’s eat then, quickly, before I get scared and run back into the restroom.”

She followed him back to the table, sat down, and spread her napkin across her lap. “Wish I’d done this before!” she muttered. Then she began to eat her ravioli.

“Sorry I already ate my lasagna,” said Nathan sheepishly.

“That’s fine,” said Emily. “There was no need for you to let your own food go cold.”

Five minutes later, the kitchen door opened, and Emily hastily pulled her napkin up to cover her bra. She then looked up to see Nick approaching; unfortunately he was not carrying her top. “Ah, hello Madam,” he said. “Your top is still a little damp, I’m afraid, but it’ll be dry soon. Did you manage to get the sauce out of your skirt?”

“Not really,” said Emily. “I guess I’ll do that at home.”

“Oh!” said Nick. “Well why don’t you let me take care of it? Your top is clean and will be dry very soon; I can easily do the same for your skirt.”

“But then I’ll be wearing nothing but my underwear!” said Emily fretfully.

Nathan grinned. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” he said. “And I’m sure Nick will do the decent thing and turn his back while you take off your skirt.”

“Of course!” said Nick. “I assumed you would do that in the restroom, but if you want to take it off here, naturally I will turn around.”

“Go on, Emily,” said Nathan with a smirk. “Wouldn’t it be nice to leave here with clean clothes, and not have to worry about trying to get the stain out yourself back at the Davises?”

Emily felt quite put on the spot. Both Nick and Nathan seemed to be expecting her to take off her skirt, and they had mounted legitimate arguments for doing so. She was feeling very anxious about sitting here in just her bra, panties, and shoes, and two days ago she would surely not have even contemplated such a thing ... but in the past day or so she had spent so much time in a state of undress – or at least underdressed – that she found herself actually trying to rationalise the idea of taking off her skirt in the middle of a restaurant. It was a rather surreal moment.

“All right,” she said uncomfortably. “Please turn around, Nick.”

The old man turned his back on her, and she looked up to see Nathan grinning as she set her napkin on the table, then tucked her thumbs into the sides of her skirt’s elasticated waistband. Pouting at her fiancé, and feeling indignant that he was enjoying this situation (though she could understand why – he was a man, after all), she lifted her bottom off her chair, and pulled her skirt down her legs. Lifting her feet out, she took the garment out from under the table, and handed it to Nick, reaching past his left side. “Here,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Nick, taking the skirt without turning around. “I’ll bring it back as soon as I’m done with it.”

As he walked back to the kitchen, Emily shuddered as she covered her panties with her napkin as best she could. “I must be losing my mind!” she said to Nathan. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here in my underwear!”

Nathan grinned at her bra-clad breasts. “You look awesome,” he said. “But I can only see your top half. Would you mind ... standing up...? Just for a moment?”

“Nathan!” said Emily in exasperation. “This is embarrassing enough already!”

“But it’s so sexy!” Nathan protested. “Can’t you let me enjoy it? Please...? I am your fiancé after all, and there’s nobody else here.”

Emily sighed. “All right, fine,” she said. “Just for a moment.” She put her napkin on the table, then she pushed her chair back, and stood up, clasping her right wrist with her left hand, just in front of her navel.

“Wow...” Nathan drank in the sight of Emily’s white panties – skimpier panties than he had ever seen her wear before – and he beamed happily. “You look so good!” he said earnestly.

Emily smiled, despite herself. “Thank you,” she said. Then she sat down, replaced the napkin across her lap, and resumed eating her ravioli.

When the kitchen door next opened, she self-consciously hunched her shoulders, unwilling to take her napkin off her panties in order to cover her bra. As footsteps approached the table, she looked up ... and gasped in alarm. It was not Nick. It was a younger man – perhaps forty-ish – and he wore an apologetic smile. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and an extensive five-o’clock shadow, and in general looked considerably more Italian than Nick did. “Good evening,” he said. “I’m Benito, the manager of this restaurant. I am here to humbly apologise for the ... incident ... and the inconvenience it has caused you.”

Emily, looking a little panicked, folded her arms across her chest. Nathan, smirking a little, said, “Yes, well, as you can see, my fiancée Emily has had a harder time of it than me, but thank you for your apology.”

Benito nodded. “Nick is my uncle,” he said. “He lost his wife recently, and her medical bills put him in a pretty bad financial situation. I gave him a job here to help him pay his bills, but ... well, let’s say he struggles a bit. I fear I may have to let him go.”

“Oh don’t do that!” said Emily, appalled. Knowing Nick’s story made it a lot easier to forgive him. “It was just an accident – it could have happened to anyone. And he’s trying so hard to fix it.”

“I appreciate that ... Emily,” said Benito. “You’re obviously a good and kind person. Perhaps I will go easy on him, then ... but in view of the inconvenience and embarrassment you have undergone, your meal tonight will obviously be on the house.”

“Oh!” said Nathan. “Thank you!”

Benito placed a small piece of paper on the table. “And in case you choose to visit us again – which I sincerely hope you do – here is a voucher for fifty dollars, with no expiration date.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” said Emily gratefully. “Thank you so much, Benito. I’m sure we will come again – won’t we, Nathan?”

“Yes, definitely!” said Nathan. “Thanks Benito.”

Benito smiled, and nodded. “I’ll leave you in peace, then. Nick will be out with your clothes shortly.” He glanced down at Emily’s chest for a moment, then he turned on his heel and walked back to the kitchen.

“What a nice man!” said Emily. “I like that he’s looking after Nick like that, after all Nick has been through.”

“Yeah,” agreed Nathan. “But I’m puzzled by their relationship. If Nick is his uncle, why do they look and sound so different?”

“Maybe in this case, ‘uncle’ just means ‘aunt’s husband’,” Emily speculated.

Nathan nodded. “That’s probably it.”

Nick returned a few minutes later with a progress report ... and Emily’s top. “Here,” he said. “Clean and dry.”

“Thank you!” said Emily, taking it and quickly putting it on. It felt good to have her top half covered again.

“I’ve finished washing your skirt, but now it has to dry,” said Nick. “Would you be interested in some dessert while you wait? On the house, of course.”

“Why not?” said Nathan cheerfully.

Emily rubbed her belly. “Oh, I’m full,” she said. “You go ahead though.”

Nick listed the options, and Nathan chose to have strawberry cheesecake. Nick went back to the kitchen, and returned with a plate that he set down in front of Nathan without incident. “Enjoy,” he said.

Two men entered the restaurant – one young, one middle-aged. Nick shambled over to meet them, and to Emily’s alarm, he seated them at a nearby table so they had a good view of her from the side. Nervously, she tugged her napkin a little more firmly around her panties, but it was not large enough to reach down to the chair on both sides. This was not lost on the two men, who began talking to each other in low voices while looking over at her hip, bare but for a strip of panty material.

It was another embarrassing half-hour before Nick finally brought out her skirt. “Here you go,” he said. “And once again, I’m so sorry for my clumsiness.”

“That’s okay,” said Emily, taking the skirt and opening it out beneath the table. She stuck her feet into it and pulled it up, lifting her thighs first, then rocking forward and lifting her bottom, tugging the skirt up around her waist as quickly as possible. The two men nearby watched this with great interest.

“All right, let’s go,” said Nathan, getting to his feet.

“Have a good night,” said Nick.

“Thank you, you too,” said Emily, her cheeks burning. She walked quickly with Nathan to the front door.

“Well that was a unique experience,” said Nathan.

“Yes,” Emily agreed with a shudder.

They walked back to Nathan’s apartment, where Mack and Clive and Sasha were all hanging out in the living room, watching TV.

“Hi guys,” said Sasha.

“How was dinner?” asked Clive.

“Well,” said Nathan, “you wouldn’t believe what happened...” And he told the story, while Emily put her face in her hands in embarrassment, of what had transpired at the restaurant. He seemed to find it very funny, as did Mack; Clive and Sasha were more inclined to be sympathetic, though even they looked amused.

“I don’t think I’d have entrusted that waiter with my clothes,” said Sasha with a smirk. “I’m glad you got them back clean and dry.”

“Me too,” said Emily. “It was horribly embarrassing, but at least everything worked out okay in the end.”

“We even got a fifty dollar voucher out of it!” said Nathan proudly.

Clive chuckled. “You really think you’ll go back there?”

“Well sure!” said Nathan. “I mean, the food was pretty ... okay ... and heck, free food! And they were nice people, weren’t they Emily?”

Emily nodded. “Yes, they were.“

“Anyway,” said Nathan, “if you’ll excuse us, I’d like some private time with Emily.” He took her hand, and led her to the door of his room.

“Have fun!” said Mack. “Try not to be as noisy as Clive and Sasha.”

Emily’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh we’re not going to...” she began, but Nathan cut her off. “We’ll try!” he said with a cheeky grin.

Inside his bedroom, he took her in his arms, and kissed her. She responded without much enthusiasm; she was a little annoyed with him for implying to his friends that they were going to have sex. Not annoyed enough to start an argument, however, and when they disengaged, she looked around. “You cleaned up.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “How do you know it doesn’t always look like this?” She smirked, and he laughed. “All right all right, yes, I cleaned up. What do you think?”

The room looked like a fairly standard bachelor pad, with an abundance of electronics with wires trailing everywhere, posters on the walls, piles of clothes on top of a dresser whose drawers probably had plenty of room in them, and a couple of unwashed mugs on a cheap-looking desk, next to a computer keyboard. A black swivel chair sat in front of the desk. “It’s nice,” she said politely. “I like that poster: ‘Jesus Saves’. I’m glad you’re not afraid to proclaim your faith among these ... secular people.”

“Absolutely,” said Nathan. “Now ... I seem to recall ... you were going to show me your work uniform...?”

“Oh,” said Emily, with a slight grimace. “Nathan, you’ve already seen more of me this evening than the uniform shows. Isn’t that enough for the time being? Besides, I should get back to the Davises; I don’t want to be walking the streets after dark.”

“It’s like five blocks!” said Nathan. “Anyway, I’ll walk you home. But can I see the uniform? Please...?”

But Emily was starting to feel more and more uneasy about the thought of Nathan seeing her in her uniform. What if he was upset at how much she was showing? What if he wasn’t, and liked the look so much that he insisted on parading her in front of his friends? She was not sure which would be worse.

Then, to her surprise, Nathan got down on his knees in front of her, and clasped his hands together as if in prayer. “Please...?” he begged her.

She snorted. “Silly man!” she said. “All right, if it means that much to you ... but please could you leave the room while I change?”

“Why?” asked Nathan. “I’ve already seen you in your undies tonight, as you pointed out. And I’m your fiancé!”

“Wow, is that the time?” said Emily. “I should be getting...”

“Okay, okay!” said Nathan, a little peevishly. “I’ll leave.” He went over to the door, sighed, and left the room.

Emily looked around for her bags, and spotted them by the door. She pulled out her work blouse and skirt, and sighed as she regarded them. With a grimace, she proceeded to take off her skirt and top. She could not bring herself to remove her bra too. She had promised Anthony she would try going braless tomorrow, but she had made no such promise to Nathan. So she squeezed into her blouse, buttoning it up high enough to cover her cleavage, and then she put on her new skirt. It truly was alarmingly short – by far the shortest skirt she had ever worn – but it did at least fit rather better than the top. Biting her lip, she said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Nathan opened the door, and entered. Emily self-consciously clasped her hands together in front of her skirt as she watched his jaw drop and his eyes drop immediately to her thighs. “Good grief!” he said. “I never thought I’d see you in something like this, Emily!”

“Oh dear!” she said. “I know – it’s terrible. I don’t know how I let myself get talked into...”

“No no no!” said Nathan. “Please don’t misunderstand me, Emily. I love it! I think you look amazing!”

Emily smiled sheepishly. “Oh ... well ... that’s good, I guess. But think what they’d say back in Oakwood! Think what my parents would say!”

“We’re not in Oakwood anymore, Emily, we’re in the city,” said Nathan firmly. “There are different standards here. People aren’t so judgmental about clothing, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But what does an outfit like this say about me?” asked Emily plaintively.

“It doesn’t say anything,” said Nathan. “It doesn’t say whether you’ve slept with a dozen men, or one man, or none. It doesn’t say whether you would pass a homeless man on the street, or stop and give him all the spare change you have. It doesn’t say whether you would vote Democrat or Republican, or whether you worship God or ... or Buddha.”

“I ... I guess so,” said Emily, reassured a little by this show of support. “I guess you’re the only person whose opinion I should worry about, right?”

Nathan grinned. “That’s right,” he said. “Well, me and your boss. I imagine his opinion counts for something, at least in your place of work.”

“Yes,” Emily agreed. “Okay, well you’ve seen the outfit now...”

“Wow, that blouse is pretty tight, isn’t it?” said Nathan, his eyes widening anew.

“A little,” Emily conceded, her cheeks reddening. “Now would you mind letting me change back into my regular clothes?”

“Uh, sure,” said Nathan, taking one last look at her straining buttons as he left the room.

Emily hurriedly changed back into her top and long skirt, and tucked her work clothes back into her bag. Then she stepped out of Nathan’s bedroom. “Okay, Nathan, I’m ready to go.”

He accompanied her to the Davises’ house, and kissed her goodnight on the doorstep. As she entered, she heard the television in the living room, and walked in to see Jacob and Mary sitting on their sofa. Jacob had his arm around Mary; her head was on his shoulder. ‘Awww, that’s nice,’ she thought to herself. ‘I hope Nathan and I are like that when we’re their age.’

Jacob looked up. “Ah, Emily,” he said. “How was your dinner with Nathan?”

“It was good, thank you,” she replied. “How was your day?”

“Very nice, thank you,” said Jacob. “I just got back from our midweek service. I was telling my congregants about you; they’re all looking forward to meeting you.”

“Oh!” said Emily with a smile. “And I them. I’m sorry I couldn’t come this evening, but I look forward to seeing your church on Sunday.”

Jacob nodded, and smiled. “Want to sit and watch TV with us?”

“Thank you,” said Emily, “but I think I’m just going to head upstairs if that’s okay.”

“Of course!” said Mary. “Would you like anything to eat or drink before you go up?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” said Emily. “Goodnight, both of you.”

“Goodnight, Emily!” they said.

Upstairs, she paused outside Paul’s room, wondering whether to say goodnight to him. She was worried he would ask for another goodnight kiss, and last night’s had been a little inappropriate. With a slight pang of guilt, she tiptoed to her room, and fetched her towel, nightie, and a clean pair of panties. Then she went to the bathroom, locked herself in, and had a shower. As the water cascaded over her naked body, she pondering what a strange day it had been. She had never been so frequently unclothed! First she had got changed in the same room as Marv – even though he had had his back to her – then she had stripped down to her panties, right in front of Anthony! The memory of that was still highly mortifying; he had even touched her breasts! And then Joey, at the gym, had rubbed her thighs ... that memory made her shiver, but not in a bad way. And then the restaurant ... she had actually sat and eaten her food at the table in just her underwear! And several people had seen her like that! It was all so crazy.

She dried herself, put on her panties and nightdress, and brushed her teeth. As she was heading to her room, however, Paul emerged from his. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of undershorts which, Emily could not help noticing and immediately avoided looking at, clung quite snugly around his privates. “Hi Emily!” he said. “Going to bed?”

“In a bit,” said Emily. “I’ll probably read for a while first.”

“Can you spare some time for a video game?” Paul asked hopefully. “I enjoyed our game last night.”

“Me too!” said Emily with a smile. “Um ... I guess that would be fun. You might want to put on some pants though!”

Paul shrugged. “I’m in my sleepwear, you’re in yours,” he said. “What’s the difference? Besides, I imagine you’ll be concentrating too hard on the screen to stare at my junk, right?”

This was disconcertingly forthright; she could not imagine people back in Oakwood talking like this. Once again her sheltered upbringing was being confronted by the more earthy culture of the city. She forced a smile. “Of course I won’t stare,” she said, a little stiffly. “Very well then, let’s play that game of yours.”

As they sat down next to each other on Paul’s bed, he glanced down at her nightdress, and smirked. “You really wear that thing to bed?”

“Um, yes, of course,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s very old-fashioned,” he said. “I don’t imagine many women under the age of sixty wear that kind of thing to bed these days.”

Emily hunched her shoulders, feeling defensive. “It’s considered perfectly normal back home,” she said uncomfortably. “What would you suggest I wear instead? What do city girls wear?”

Paul shrugged. “Well, as you know, my experience of girls is pretty limited,” he said. “But I do watch movies and TV, and if that’s anything to go by, I’d say there are two pretty common options. Well, three, I guess.”

Emily’s feelings had been slightly bruised, but she was curious nonetheless. “What are they?”

“First, pyjamas,” said Paul. “I don’t know how common they are among women these days, but it’s definitely an option. You know, matching shirt and pants type of thing, or shirt and shorts. More of a cold weather option, probably.”

“I wouldn’t want to wear pants,” said Emily, shaking her head. “Shorts ... maybe.”

“Second option,” Paul continued, while loading up Fists of Fire Ultra, “would be a nightie. Not a great big sack like yours, but a shorter, skimpier, sexier one.”

“Sack!” echoed Emily, mortified. “You meanie, Paul!”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Paul, grinning. “I didn’t really mean it. Your nightie’s pretty, it really is – it just looks like it was made for an old lady.”

Emily groaned. She was tired of feeling like she was in the wrong century. “What’s the third option?” she asked.

Paul shrugged. “Probably the most common,” he said. “Just a tank-top and panties. Or maybe a t-shirt and panties. Do you really need anything else, after all?”

The idea was strange to Emily, but not entirely without appeal. She had grown up in a house with no air-conditioning, and in the summertime when she was younger she would often get so hot in her long nightdress that she would pull it all the way up to her chest, leaving most of herself uncovered, in order to cool down a little. This house had air-conditioning, but only downstairs; in her room she had a fan, but last night she had still been pretty hot. The idea of sleeping without a nightdress ... in just a top and panties ... was actually quite tempting. And yet...

“What if I need to go to the bathroom?” she asked uncertainly. “Or downstairs?”

“There’s nothing stopping you putting something else on if you need to leave your room,” said Paul. “Shorts, or a skirt maybe. But you don’t have to. I wouldn’t think twice about going downstairs like this to grab a drink or something late in the evening. I’m dressed for bed! Mom and Dad know that, and if they saw you dressed for bed in a similar way, they’d think nothing of it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Emily doubtfully. “In our house it would have been a scandal if I’d left my room in my underwear!”

“If you did that during the daytime, they might look at you askance,” said Paul. “But around bedtime, they wouldn’t care.”

“Huh!” said Emily. This all seemed very strange to her. “I think I’ll put something on, though, nonetheless, if I need to leave my room. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable otherwise.”

Paul nodded. “Shall we play?”

“Sure,” said Emily.

This time, she was a little better, and when she picked the fighter she was most comfortable with (Lightning) and Paul deliberately opted for one of his least favourites, she actually gave him a run for his money. He let her win a few times – she could tell when he was holding back – but she did not mind. Once again, she had a lot of fun.

After forty minutes or so, though, she had had enough. “I’m off to bed,” she said, hoping he would not ask her for a goodnight kiss.

Fortunately he did not. “Goodnight,” he said absentmindedly. “Sleep well.”

“You too,” said Emily, and she left the room quickly.

In her own bedroom, she pulled out a light blue tank top, and regarded it thoughtfully. This would certainly be cooler and more comfortable than her nightdress! She slipped off the nightie, folded it up, and put it on her dresser. Then, with an inexplicable shiver, she put on the tank top, and knelt down beside her bed to say her prayers. Doing so while wearing so little felt strange, and she found herself a little distracted. But she got through them, and then climbed into bed.

This felt so strange. But nice, and rather liberating! She smiled to herself. Then she stiffened at the sound of a knock on her door. “Hello?” she said.

The door opened, and Paul stepped in. “I forgot to ask you for a goodnight kiss,” he said apologetically, holding on to the door with both hands. “Is it too late now...?”

“Well, I’ve got into bed, Paul,” Emily said awkwardly.

Paul nodded, his expression turning from hope to disappointment. “I understand. I missed my chance.”

Emily, feeling sorry for him, bit her lip. Then, as he began to retreat, she blurted out, “Okay Paul, I guess I haven’t turned out my light yet. Come on in.”

Paul eagerly entered the room, and closed the door behind him. “Awesome!” he said. “Uh ... are you going to get out of bed? Or should I climb in with you...?”

The latter option did not bear thinking about. But the former was not much better. “Can’t you just come and lean over?” Emily inquired, her cheeks turning pink.

“Awww, but I was hoping for a nice hug too, like last night,” said Paul.

Emily groaned internally at the precedent she had accidentally established. “All right,” she said reluctantly. She seemed doomed to expose her panties to as many people as possible today. At least Paul would be the last. She flipped back the bedsheet, climbed out of bed, and stood up, with her hands clasped in front of her panties.

Paul smiled down at her hands. “Well you won’t be able to hug me like that,” he said. “Don’t be shy, Emily – it’s just sleepwear, like I’m wearing.”

Embarrassed, Emily dropped her hands to her sides, then half-heartedly raised them for a hug. Paul stared down at her panties, grinning. “Nice panties!” he said. “I kind of expected big old-fashioned grandma panties. But those are cute!”

Emily blushed. “Actually I was wearing big grandma panties until yesterday. Nathan’s friend Sasha took me shopping and helped me choose new ones.”

“Very good choice,” said Paul. “Now, let’s have that kiss...” He stepped forward, spreading his arms.

Emily put her arms around him as he wrapped his around her waist, pulling her firmly against his body so that the bulge in his underwear pressed against the front of her panties. His lips met hers, and lingered there, as he gently sucked her lower lip between his.

Emily pulled her face away from his. “Okay, that’s enough!” she said, her cheeks burning.

But he did not let her go. “Hey Emily, can I ask you something?”

She was acutely aware of his hardness against her panties. “What?” she asked uncomfortably.

“I’ve ... I’ve always wondered what a French kiss is like,” he said. “You know ... with tongues. I don’t suppose I’ll find out for years and years, with my acne and everything... Do you think you could ... maybe ... show me...?”

“Paul, that wouldn’t be appropriate!” said Emily, shocked. “French kissing is for boyfriends and girlfriends! Real couples ... you know?”

“I know,” he said glumly. “That’s why I feel like it’s never going to happen to me. Maybe, years and years from now it might, maybe with a girl as unattractive as me, who’s just desperate enough to give me a try. But I’ll never get the chance to kiss a beautiful woman like that. Not unless ... just this once ... you allow me the huge privilege of trying it ... with you.”

Emily’s heart went out to him. “Look,” she said gently, “honestly, Paul, I’d let you kiss me that way – really I would – but the fact is that I’m engaged to Nathan, and it wouldn’t be fair to him. I could never be unfaithful to him.”

Now it was Paul’s turn to look shocked. “Oh, I would never ask you to cheat on Nathan!” he said earnestly. “But this wouldn’t be cheating, would it? More like ... an act of charity. I bet if you explained it to Nathan that way, he would understand.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Emily, though in truth she thought it quite plausible that he might actually find the idea hilarious. He certainly did not seem to mind her showing her panties to other men; in fact he found it quite entertaining. If she told him that Paul had talked her into giving him his first French kiss ... the more she thought about it, the more it seemed likely that he would be okay with it, if not indeed enjoy the idea.

“Very well,” she said, after a long pause. “I’ll give you your first French kiss. But that’s it! No more after that, okay?”

Paul nodded eagerly. “Absolutely!” he said. “Just a one-time thing – I understand.”

‘I hope I don’t come to regret this,’ Emily thought to herself as she closed her eyes and leaned towards Paul.

Paul pressed his lips to hers, and opened his mouth. To his delight – he had been more than half expecting her to back out at the last minute – Emily parted her lips, and Paul shoved his tongue into her mouth. Excitedly, he swirled his tongue around hers, and at the same time he slid his hands down her back, all the way to her bottom, and grasped her buttocks through her panties. She gave a muffled squeal, and leaned back away from him, but he merely leaned forward, looming over her, still eagerly exploring her mouth with his tongue while his hands squeezed and caressed her buttocks.

She pushed against his chest with her hands, finally breaking the kiss. “Enough, Paul!” she gasped. “Can’t you take a hint? And please take your hands off my butt; I never said you could do that.”

“Oh ... sorry,” said Paul, looking very abashed as he let her go and stepped back. “It just seemed like the thing to do. Was I ... really bad at it? The kissing?”

“You were a bit ... aggressive,” said Emily. “Next time, try to be gentler.”

“Oh gosh!” Paul groaned. “I was afraid of this. One day hopefully I’m going to get another chance to kiss a girl ... and I’m totally going to blow it, aren’t I? I’m going to drive her away!”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Emily assured him. “Just try to be a bit more gentle.”

“Will you teach me?” he implored her. “Help me become a good kisser?”

Emily’s eyes widened in alarm. “No!” she said. “I can’t do that! I told you this wouldn’t happen again.”

Paul’s shoulders slumped. “Of course, I understand,” he said. “Thank you ... so much, though ... for letting me French kiss you. It was probably the greatest moment of my life.”

“Awww,” said Emily, touched. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. Goodnight, Paul.”

“Goodnight Emily,” he replied. And he left her room, his eyes shining.

With a sigh, Emily got back into bed. She hoped she was right about what Nathan’s reaction to this news would be. Paul grabbing her bottom might have compromised the whole thing, but there was no way she could leave that part out; a relationship was worthless if it was not built on honesty.

Tomorrow was going to be a stressful day, no doubt. Not only did she have an awkward conversation with Nathan to look forward to, she was also going to have to wear at the coffee shop the shortest skirt she had ever worn. And, because she had promised, no bra beneath her too-tight blouse. Troubled by these thoughts, Emily drifted off into a rather fitful sleep.

DAY 3 – THURSDAY

The next morning, Emily looked through the new clothes she had bought with Sasha, and decided to wear the white sundress. When she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, she found that its length – it stopped about three inches above the knee – bothered her less than it had in the shop ... possibly because it seemed long in comparison with her barista skirt. Nevertheless, she felt a little exposed as she went downstairs to breakfast.

“Oh, what a lovely dress!” said Mary, as Emily entered the kitchen.

This helped. “Thank you,” said Emily, blushing. “The length is a little outside my comfort zone, but I do like it.”

“I think you look great,” said Paul, grinning at her knees and thighs. “Anyway, I gotta run. Bye Mom, bye Emily.”

“Goodbye dear,” said his mother, as Paul got up and headed for the front door. “Have a good day!”

“Bye Paul!” said Emily.

Emily sat down to eat, and helped herself to some Cheerios.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Mary. “Is there a kind of cereal you’d prefer? I’m going grocery shopping this morning, and if there’s something you’d like better than Cheerios, I can pick it up for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” said Emily. “I usually like to have something with plenty of fibre in it; something like Bran Flakes would be fine, but I’m really not fussy.”

Mary nodded. “Very healthy!” she said approvingly. “I’ll see what I can get for you.”

After breakfast, Emily had some time to kill, but she wanted to hold on to her poo for another day, so she decided to forgo the pleasures of panty-pooping in favour of a brief exploration of the Davises’ back yard, which so far she had only seen from their kitchen window. Unlocking the back door, she stepped out on to a stone patio, beyond which was a rather small area of grass bordered on three sides by a high wooden fence. A large apple tree dominated the yard, its spreading branches providing shade for much of the grass. A smaller apple tree near the far right-hand corner of the yard overhung the fence.

Walking out on to the grass, Emily made for the apple tree, enjoying the dappled light that filtered through the leafy branches. Looking up, she could see no apples – it was too early in the year – but something else caught her eye. A green frisbee was lodged high in the branches, and she regraded it curiously. It looked rather chewed-up – a dog toy perhaps? But the Davises had no dog; just two Persian cats, named Sheba and Balkis. Emily could not imagine either of them playing with a frisbee.

She heard the sound of a throat being cleared on the other side of the fence on the left-hand side of the yard; this was followed by the snipping of a pair of clippers. Snip, snip, snip ... it sounded like someone was doing some pruning work. She had not yet met any of the Davises’ neighbours, and she wondered if she should introduce herself.

Then there was a sound of crunching vegetation, a thud, and an “Ouch!” The snipping stopped, and there was silence on the other side of the fence.

“Are you okay?” asked Emily.

“Is that you, Mary?” said an elderly-sounding male voice.

“No, my name’s Emily. I’m staying with the Davises.”

“Oh! Well hello, Emily! I’m Harry.”

“Are you all right?” she asked again.

“I just dropped my pruning shears on my foot,” came the reply. “I seem to be getting kinda clumsy in my old age!”

“Oh dear!” said Emily. “Do you need help? I can come around...”

“Really, I’m fine,” said Harry. “Actually I was hoping to come around your side today, to look for my frisbee. I wouldn’t do so without asking Jacob and Mary for permission, but perhaps you might allow me in their absence...?”

“Oh!” said Emily. “I know where your frisbee is; it’s up in the apple tree. Do you have a dog?”

“Yes!” said Harry. “Frosty – he’s a golden retriever, six years old. Lovely dog. And he loves that frisbee! My grandson was here yesterday and he accidentally threw it over the fence. Poor Frosty – he was beside himself! Unfortunately nobody was home when I called round later, and then it kinda slipped my mind after that. My brain doesn’t work as well as it used to.”

“Well why don’t you come around now?” said Emily. “I’m sure Jacob and Mary wouldn’t mind me letting you through. But I’m not sure how we’re going to get the frisbee down; it’s quite high up. Your grandson must have quite the throwing arm!”

“Oh, he does!” said Harry. “Well thank you, Emily – I’ll be right over.”

Emily went to the low wooden gate at the side of the Davises house, and unlatched it, thus allowing passage from the front yard to the back, via a narrow paved path. She walked through to the front yard, and a moment later, saw the front door of Harry’s house open. Then Harry himself emerged: an old man, walking a little stiffly but without support, grey-haired and dressed in a checkered shirt and faded blue jeans. His eyes wrinkled up in a smile as he saw Emily. “You’ll have to bear with me,” he said, as he began to shuffle towards the far end of the low fence separating his yard from the Davises’. “I don’t move as fast as I used to.”

“That’s quite all right,” said Emily, smiling warmly back at him. “Take your time; no rush.” She liked him immediately; he reminded her of her own grandfather, upon whose knee she would bounce as a little girl. He would always have a piece of candy and a comforting word for her whenever she was upset about anything, right up until his death last year from pancreatic cancer. Harry was about the same age, and looked just as kind and gentle-spirited.

“Here I come!” said Harry, rounding the end of the fence. “Just another half-hour or so should do it, hehe!”

Of course he was joking; it was closer to half a minute when he finally stopped about six feet away from Emily, and looked her up and down. “My, aren’t you as pretty as a picture!” he remarked, delighted.

Emily blushed. “Awww, thank you Harry, you’re too kind,” she said. What a nice man he was! “Come on, let’s see about getting that frisbee of yours. Maybe we can throw something at it.”

She led him to the apple tree, and together they looked upward into the branches. “Oh yes,” said Harry. “That is quite high, isn’t it? If Dan was here, he’d be up there and have it down in no time. Loves to climb, that boy. Or man, I should say – he’s twenty-six now. Hard to believe!”

“Dan’s your … grandson?” Emily inquired.

“Yes. Fine young man. Works in advertising.”

Emily looked around for something to throw. “I used to be quite a tree-climber myself,” she said. “I’m not really dressed for it at the moment though!”

Harry chuckled. “Yes, I wouldn’t want you to ruin your pretty dress for the sake of a frisbee! But hopefully we can get it down without climbing. My own tree-climbing days are long over, hehe!”

“Where’s Frosty now?” Emily asked.

“Oh, he’s inside,” said Harry. “I took him to the park this morning; he’s had his little runaround.”

“You must get up early!” said Emily.

Harry nodded. “I’m usually up by six.”

Emily had spotted a football tucked behind a shrub at the edge of the patio. Paul’s, probably, though he didn’t seem the type to play much. She trotted over to pick it up. “Let’s try this!” she said, returning to the tree.

“Perfect!” said Harry.

She threw the ball upward; it bounced off a branch, and landed a few feet away. She fetched it and tried again; this time, it bounced back down and hit Harry on the head. “Oof,” he said.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Emily, alarmed. “Are you all right, Harry?”

“Uh, yes,” said Harry, clutching his forehead. “Perhaps I’ll retreat to a safe distance.”

He did so, and Emily tried again. This time the ball sailed up through the branches, narrowly missed the frisbee, came down again, and lodged itself between two branches that grew close together. “Oh gosh!” said Emily, dismayed.

“Oh dear!” said Harry. “Perhaps I should go next door and fetch my ladder.”

“If I have to climb up there, I can do so without a ladder,” said Emily. “I’m just not really dressed for climbing.” Not that she really had any clothes suitable for climbing trees, which in Oakwood would not have been considered ladylike behaviour. Then she remembered her gym clothes. “Oh! Actually I do have something I can change into. Do you mind waiting a couple of minutes?”

“Not at all,” said Harry with a smile.

Emily hurried inside, went upstairs two at a time, and entered her bedroom. She looked into her bag, pulled out her work uniform, and then frowned. Where were her gym clothes? Then she gasped. Still in Nathan’s room, no doubt! She remembered leaving his apartment with her regular bag, but not the shopping bag containing her gym outfit.

Disheartened, she went back downstairs, and out into the back yard, where Harry was standing patiently by the tree. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I apparently left my gym clothes at my fiancé’s place.”

“Ah well, never mind,” said Harry, looking up wistfully at the frisbee. It was kind of you to try.”

Emily bit her lip. She hated to disappoint people. “You know what,” she said, “I’m sure I can climb just fine in this dress.”

“Oh I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that,” said Harry, shaking his head.

Emily smiled. “Frosty needs his frisbee, right? It’s okay – I’ll be fine.” She hoped Harry would be gentlemanly enough not to look up her dress while she climbed, but she did not want to insult him – or embarrass herself – by asking him not to.

“All right then,” said Harry. “Good luck! I’ll do my best to catch you if you fall.”

“Oh, don’t do that!” said Emily. “If I fall, I might hurt myself, but if I land on you, I might hurt us both!”

“I’m not as fragile as I look,” said Harry, grinning. “There’s still plenty of strength in these old arms. But it’s probably best if you try not to fall.”

“Okay,” said Emily. With a small leap, she caught hold of one of the lower branches of the tree, and swung her legs up to plant her feet on the lowest branch of all. Hooking one leg over it, she pulled herself up high enough to grab another branch, and this allowed her to hook her other leg over the lowest branch, so that she could manoeuvre herself into a sitting position. Now she stood up, using another branch for support, and leaned over to grab yet another.

“You’re very good at this,” said Harry admiringly, as she stretched out her right leg to plant her foot on a particularly thick branch. His eyes widened at the sight of a narrow white strip of material between her thighs, and one hand automatically drifted to his crotch.

“Thank you,” said Emily. “It’s been a few years since I last did this kind of thing!”

She soon reached the football, which she carefully dislodged. As she looked down to make sure it would not land on Harry, she was disconcerted to see that he was directly below her and looking up at her ... and her legs were spread, her feet on different branches. He could probably see her panties ... though he did not seem to be looking at them, as he raised his hands to catch the ball.

“There, you see?” he said, grinning as he clasped his hands around it. “Safe hands!”

“Well done,” she said, “but don’t try and catch the frisbee! It’ll likely fall more unpredictably.” She climbed a little higher, until she managed to close her fingers around the edge of the frisbee. “Got it! Stand back please Harry.”

“Standing back,” he reported.

She dropped the frisbee, and it landed on the ground below her. Harry stepped forward, picked it up, and then looked up again. “Thank you!” he said.

Emily began to descend, as quickly as possible because she could see Harry was still looking up at her. She did not notice that her dress had caught on a broken stub of a branch, until it had been pulled up to waist level behind her. “Ack!” she gasped, reaching back to unhook it. But then her shoes, not designed for tree-climbing, slipped off the branch she was standing on, and the sudden drop jerked her left hand off the branch it was holding. A second later, squealing in fright, she was brought to an abrupt halt with her dress bunched up beneath her armpits, her panties and bra exposed, and her feet flailing helplessly about four feet above the ground.

“Whoa, are you okay?” asked Harry, staring up excitedly at her panties, and then higher up, at her deliciously large round bra-encased breasts.

“Oh gosh! Help!” Emily cried, realising that if she lifted her arms to grab the branch above her, she would fall out of her dress.

“Can you climb back up?” asked Harry.

“No!” said Emily. “I can’t even free my dress. I think ... I think I’m going to have to come down without it!”

“Oh!” said Harry, licking his lips in anticipation.

“Can you turn around please?” asked Emily plaintively.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself in the drop,” said Harry. “I’ll catch you.” He stepped forward, and put his arms loosely around her knees. “Come down whenever you’re ready.”

Emily gulped, then she raised her arms. Gravity now did its work, pulling her downward, out of the dress and into Harry’s waiting arms. Instinctively, she threw her arms and legs around him, and when she came to rest, she was hugging him around the neck and his hands were cupping her panty-clad buttocks.

“Thank you!” she said breathlessly. “I guess you are stronger than you look!”

“Happy to be of service,” he replied happily, firmly clutching her buttocks with his splayed fingers. He glanced down at the twin bulges of her breasts, pushed up into an impressive cleavage from being squished against his chest.

“This is very embarrassing though!” Emily said, feeling mortified. As she straightened her legs, he set her down gently, and she covered her bra and panties as well as she could with her arms.

“I can imagine,” said Harry. “You’re a very pretty sight in your underwear, Emily, and as an old man I don’t get to see this kind of thing much these days, but I’m sorry that you’ve been embarrassed because of helping me out.” He looked up. “How are we going to get your dress down?”

“I don’t know,” said Emily, her cheeks burning. “It’s not as high up as the frisbee was, at least. Maybe I can fetch it down with a broom or something.”

“Or you could just climb,” suggested Harry cheerfully. “It’ll be a lot easier to fetch than the frisbee. I know, I know, you’re in your undies. But I’ve already seen them, and I’m an old man; you’ve nothing to fear from me, Emily.”

Emily chuckled ruefully. “I seem to be showing off my underwear a lot these days, through no fault of my own!” she remarked. “You wouldn’t believe what happened yesterday ... but never mind. All right, I suppose this won’t take long...”

Turning back toward the tree, she jumped, grabbed, and pulled herself back up among the branches. Harry remained directly below her, his admiring gaze roaming over her barely-clothed body. But the show was all too brief; within half a minute she was back on the ground, examining her dress.

“It’s torn!” she lamented. “It’s ruined!”

“Oh no!” said Harry in dismay. “I’m so sorry, Emily! This is all my fault; I shouldn’t have asked you to climb up there.”

“It’s okay,” said Emily morosely. She had really liked this dress, despite its shortness.

“Listen,” said Harry. “My daughter Rachel – Dan’s mom – makes dresses for a living. She runs a clothes store on Market Street. Let me give her this dress, and she can repair it for you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that!” said Emily. “This was only five bucks from a thrift store.”

“Nevertheless it was your dress and it’s damaged because you were helping me,” said Harry. “Please, I insist. It’s the least I can do after you so bravely retrieved Frosty’s frisbee.”

Emily smiled. “Well, thank you,” she said. “If your daughter can repair this, I’d be grateful. But I don’t know if it’s possible. I’m not a bad seamstress myself, but it would be beyond my skills to make this look good again.”

“And it might be beyond Rachel’s,” admitted Harry. “If so, I’ll buy you a new dress from her store. Family discount, you know.” He grinned.

“That’s very kind of you,” said Emily. “Here you go, then.” She handed him the dress. “I’d better go inside and put something else on!”

“Okay, well it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Emily,” said Harry. “I hope you have a lovely day.”

“Thank you!” said Emily. “You too, Harry.”

She went back indoors, oblivious of Harry’s eyes fixed on her panty-clad bottom until the moment she closed the door. Heading upstairs, she returned to her room to find another outfit. For a moment she considered the blue dress, but then she shivered; it was just too short for her comfort level right now.

But her options were limited! She was tempted to go back to one of her long dresses from home, but she did not want to get ridiculed for her nineteenth-century fashion again. Reluctantly, she settled on her pink skirt; its hemline was a little higher than that of her white dress, but not as high as the blue one. She put it on, shuddering slightly at its length, then she looked for a top to go with it. She was not all that happy with either of the two she had bought, and found herself wishing she had bought more. At the thrift store she had really been thinking of supplementing her wardrobe, but she was now coming to the realisation that she would have to completely revamp it. She needed more tops.

She decided to go with the yellow top, which had by now dried out completely after its dunking in the toilet and subsequent cleaning. It was not an ideal combination, but it would do. Then she pulled her blouse and skirt out of her bag, and looked at them critically. The blouse was looking a little wrinkly, so she got out Mary’s iron, and ironed out all of the creases.

At a quarter to eleven, she left the house and headed for Cathcart Coffee, carrying her bag and feeling increasingly anxious. With a forced smile, she said hello to Trish as she entered.

“Good morning!” said Trish. “Still not changing at home, I see; you must like giving Marv an eyeful.”

Emily gasped. “He hasn’t seen anything!” she protested.

Trish laughed. “I’m just yanking your chain,” she said. “Did you manage to fix your uniform at Walker’s?”

“Not exactly,” Emily grumbled. “It’s actually even worse now, I think. Anthony said it looks better, but I don’t know...”

Trish chuckled. “Well this should be interesting,” she said. “Go on and change; I’m curious to see the new look.”

This exchange had not escaped the attention of two male customers, sitting at different tables, who now regarded Emily with interested grins. Emily gave them a rather anxious smile, and then she hurried past the counter, heading for Marv’s office.

Marv was on the phone again. As Emily paused uncertainly, bag in hand, he gave her a friendly wave, then a nod and a thumbs up, whereupon he swivelled his chair around, facing away from her. Apparently he intended to remain in the room while she changed, again.

A little nervously, Emily set her bag down and, while keeping a watchful eye on Marv, removed her top and skirt. Then, mindful of her promise to Anthony (which she was now deeply regretting), she reached behind her back, unclasped her bra, and took it off. Pulling her new work skirt out of her bag, she stepped into it, pulled it up, and fastened it. As she was doing so, however, Marv swung his chair around, still holding his phone to his ear. He froze at the sight of Emily’s bare breasts; she gasped, and hastily covered them with her hands. Marv, with a sheepishly apologetic look, swung his chair back around to face away from her.

Whatever part of Emily’s brain was responsible for processing utter mortification had been getting quite a workout since her arrival in the city, and now it kicked into high gear again. Her cheeks burning, she quickly put on her work blouse, leaving undone the buttons she had promised Anthony she would not fasten. This left just one button under considerable strain, with the gap below it gaping open somewhat, and a fair amount of cleavage showing above it. Hoping Marv would tell her she needed to do up another button, she waited uncomfortably for him to finish his call.

“Okay, talk to you later!” he said, less than a minute later. He hung up, then said, rather belatedly, “Uh, is it safe to turn around yet?”

“Yes,” said Emily, her hands clenched nervously at her sides.

Marv turned around. “I’m SO sorry about that, Emily! I’m accustomed to swinging my chair around as I talk on the phone, and I ... I just wasn’t thinking. My deepest apologies!”

“It’s okay,” said Emily, not meeting his eye. “Um ... I just wanted to get your opinion on my new outfit. Anthony seemed to think this was an improvement on yesterday’s, but I don’t know ... personally I think it’s maybe worse...”

Marv looked her up and down with interest. “I thought you were going back to get a longer skirt. It looks like this one’s ... shorter?”

“It is,” Emily admitted, embarrassed. “Anthony was pleased with the way it fitted, and asked me to give it a try.”

“And the blouse?” said Marv. “It looks like ... forgive me ... but it looks like you’re not wearing a bra?”

Emily nodded wretchedly. “I’m so sorry!” she said. “Anthony suggested it would help me fit better into the blouse, and put less strain on the buttons. And he insisted I leave this button undone, even though it shows quite a lot of my chest...”

“Jeez, Emily,” said Marv with a chuckle, “knowing how uncomfortable you are with showing skin, I’m surprised you let him talk you into this!”

“Well, he’s the expert,” Emily explained awkwardly. “He seemed to know what he was talking about ... and he was pretty persuasive.”

“He knows his stuff,” Marv acknowledged, “but at the end of the day, Emily, you’re the customer, and you should feel free to tell him what you want, and what you’re comfortable with, or not comfortable with. For what it’s worth, I think you look great – I don’t have a problem with your outfit at all – but if you’re not happy, then we should address that, and get you an outfit that you feel comfortable wearing.”

Emily’s heart sank. She had been hoping that Marv would tell her to put her bra back on ... or do up the button she had left undone. Nevertheless, she was grateful for his kindness and support. “Thanks Marv,” she said. “You don’t think, then, that I’m showing too much...?”

“For this place?” said Marv. “No, not at all.” He grinned. “You‘ll get some pretty good tips from the male customers, I imagine.“

Emily gulped. “You think they’ll look at me ... lustfully?”

Marv laughed. “Emily, they were doing that yesterday, they will today, and they will tomorrow, even if you wear jeans and a t-shirt. It’s the way the world works, I’m afraid, and since you can’t change how the world works, you might as well profit from it.”

Emily blushed. “I’m engaged to be married, though. I don’t want to look like I’m fishing for male attention.”

“What does it matter?” asked Marv. “Sure, some guy might ask you for your phone number, but if they do, just tell them you’re engaged! No big deal.”

This seemed very pragmatic, and Marv’s comfort level with her uniform was infectious; she was starting to feel less like she was humiliatingly exposed. “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “I ... I guess I’ll give this outfit a try...”

“There you go,” said Marv. “And if you feel the need to button up ... remind me why you left that button undone again?”

Emily bit her lip, and looked down at the floor. “It was under quite a bit of strain, even without a bra on.”

“Well I can believe that,” said Marv cheerfully, “having seen the size of your boobs – for which, again, I apologise. But that next button is also under a lot of strain; it looks like it might pop open at any moment.”

“Oh, I hope it doesn’t!” said Emily anxiously. “Anthony did try to persuade me to leave that one undone as well, but it just showed too much of my chest!” She laughed nervously. “If it pops open while I’m serving a customer...”

“Yes?” asked Marv, intrigued. “What would you do?”

“I don’t know – die of embarrassment?” said Emily, with a little shudder.

Marv chuckled. “Emily, I think you’re tougher than you think you are. Just a moment ago, I accidentally saw your boobs ... and while I’m very sorry about that, I can’t help noticing that you coped with it perfectly well. Give yourself some credit for your ability to handle adversity! It’ll serve you well in your job ... and indeed in life generally.”

Emily blushed. “Thanks Marv,” she said. “But I know you’re a nice guy, and that it was just an accident. That makes a difference. Out there, in front of customers ... if you saw what it looks like with this button undone, I think you’d agree it’s just too much.”

Marv shifted in his chair. “Okay, so show me,” he said. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, but I’d like to give you an informed opinion.”

Emily’s cheeks reddened. “Oh,” she said. “Um...” She was not comfortable about the idea of showing him more of her chest ... but then again, he’d already seen her breasts. With slightly trembling fingers, she popped open the button, and her blouse opened up even more than before, exposing a large expanse of cleavage and the inner curves of her breasts. The next button, fastened below the level of her nipples, now took on the strain of holding her blouse together.

Marv licked his lips as he stared at her cleavage. “Well,” he said, “that’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It’s not indecent. Sexy, certainly, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I would totally support you wearing your blouse like that ... but of course, I’d never require you to do so. I’m sure you’d feel very embarrassed working out there like that.”

Emily felt very embarrassed already. “I would,” she agreed.

Marv cleared his throat, and crossed his legs. “Here’s the thing, Emily,” he said. “You’re a highly attractive young woman, and that’s good for our business. If you’re willing to show some skin, so much the better. But I want you to be happy working here, so you just button that shirt however you like. If you want to button it up to the neckline, then feel free to do so, and never mind what Anthony or anyone else thinks! While you work here, you’re part of our family, and I’d hate to think of you being unhappy because you’re feeling over-exposed.”

Emily sighed with relief. “Thank you Marv!” she said. “It means a lot to me that you feel that way. I’d like to be good for your business, but I just feel so naked like this!” She refastened the button she had just undone. “I think I can cope with this, if you think it’s a good compromise.”

“Works for me!” said Marv with a smile. “Now you’d better get out there, before Trish has a fit.”

“Okay!” said Emily.

As she joined Trish behind the counter, the older woman looked her up and down, and snorted with laughter. “Well I see what you meant!” she said. “How did Anthony talk you into going braless?”

Emily’s cheeks reddened. “He said the bra was putting more strain on my buttons.”

Trish smirked. “I guess that’s true,” she said, “but it’s an argument for wearing a different blouse!”

“Are you ... maybe ... not comfortable with me looking like this?” Emily suggested hopefully. “If I tell Marv you’re not happy with me showing so much skin...”

“Oh honey, you’re not gonna use me as an excuse,” said Trish with a chuckle. “The tip jar will fill up all the faster, with you looking like that. And we split the tips evenly, so I’ll benefit!”

“Oh,” said Emily, her heart sinking. Trish was not going to be her ally in this matter, it seemed. She sighed with resignation, then pursed her lips. If this was to be her outfit, she would just have to get used to it. If it got to be too much for her to cope with, she had Marv’s permission to button up, but until then, perhaps Marv was right in saying she was tough enough to handle it. She owed it to him – and perhaps to herself – to make a go of it.

Her first customer was a young woman who arched an eyebrow at Emily’s cleavage, but did not say anything out loud, either positive or negative. Her next customer was Chet, and he was a little more vocal. “You look very nice today, Emily!” he said, before dropping a couple of dollars into the tip jar.

“Thank you!” said Emily, a little flustered. “I’ll be right out with your order.”

She prepared his coffee, fetched his muffin, then took both over to his table. As she leaned over, however, the uppermost fastened button on her blouse popped open. She gasped. “I’m so sorry!” she said, setting down his plate and coffee and hastily refastening the button.

“No need to apologise!” said Chet in delight. “You just made my morning!” But then he sobered up. “Actually perhaps I should apologise; I didn’t mean to take pleasure in your discomfort. That blouse doesn’t seem to fit you very well, does it?”

“Not very well, no,” Emily confessed. “But it’s part of the uniform; I just have to make the best of it.”

Chet sat back in his chair, puzzled. “Forgive me for saying this, Emily, but you seem a bit like a fish out of water here. Do you like working as a barista?”

“Oh ... yes!” said Emily anxiously. “I’m sorry – I’ll get better at it.”

“Oh please don’t misunderstand me,” said Chet hastily. “I don’t mean to imply you’re doing a bad job. Quite the contrary! You’re doing great, really. But ... well, tell me – what would be your ideal career?”

Emily hesitated, a little taken aback. “Um, I don’t know,” she said. “I guess I’ve always planned on getting married, having children, and raising them. Women in my home town don’t tend to have careers, as such. Just short-term jobs until they get married.”

“That’s terribly old-fashioned!” said Chet, looking rather shocked. “Don’t you have dreams of your own? Like, I don’t know, becoming a doctor? Or a teacher? An actress maybe? A dancer?”

“I’d love to dance,” Emily admitted. “But dancing was kind of frowned upon back home. I enjoy swimming ... but I’m not good enough to do it at a high level. I guess ... I do kind of have this fantasy about being...”

“Yes?” asked Chet.

Emily smiled coyly. “A secretary.”

He stared at her. “A secretary? That’s the extent of your ambition? To be someone else’s dogsbody?”

Emily blushed. “I don’t have the education to be anything fancy,” she said. “But I can type pretty fast. My teacher said I could be a really good secretary and ... I don’t know ... it sounded like fun.”

Chet shook his head, perplexed. “Well, secretaries aren’t really much of a thing, these days,” he said, “since pretty much everyone can type. But if it’s something you have a real aptitude for, there are a ton of office jobs you could do. I happen to work in an office, and I know they’re always looking for good temps – would you be at all interested in working for a company that makes fabrics?”

“Oh!” said Emily, startled. “I don’t know!”

“I’m pretty sure it’d pay better than what you’re making here,” Chet added. “What do you get here, fifteen bucks an hour?”

“I wish!” said Emily, to whom fifteen dollars an hour sounded like a lot.

Chet chuckled. “Well then, what if I were to look into opportunities for you, and let you know tomorrow if I find anything? If I do, you can take it or leave it ... but what do you say?”

It was very tempting. Since Nathan was not yet working, and was nevertheless spending money like there was no tomorrow, she suspected they would need all the money she could earn. “If you’d be willing to do that, then sure!” she said. “Thank you so much, Chet!”

Chet grinned at her cleavage. “Pleasure’s entirely mine,” he said.

Emily blushed, and hurried back behind the counter. Trish raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re getting pretty friendly with Chet there.”

“He’s going to try and find me a job!” said Emily. “Like, in an office!”

Trish frowned. “Don’t tell me you’re looking to jump ship already? You only just started here!”

Emily’s face fell. “Oh, well, I’m sure it’ll take a while before something comes up,” she said. She had naively expected Trish to be happy for her, but now she realised she would have to tread a little more carefully around the subject of getting another job.

Half an hour later, she was leaning over a table, wiping it down, when her problematic button popped open again. She sighed; this was the fourth time it had happened. At least this time nobody was watching.

She was startled, therefore, to hear a low wolf-whistle behind her. She half turned, looking back over her shoulder to see a couple of young men grinning as they looked at her. “Just enjoying the view,” said one of them, raising his mug.

Keeping her back to them, Emily set her cloth down, then straightened up, hastily fastening her button. Clearly the man behind her had not been talking about her chest. She went back behind the counter, where Trish was standing, looking amused.

“Was I ... bending over too far?” Emily asked anxiously. “I know this skirt’s very short ... could they see my ... you know ... my underwear?”

Trish snickered. “I really couldn’t say,” she said. “I didn’t have the same view they did.” Then, seeing how dismayed Emily was looking, she shook her head. “I doubt it, though. You were probably just showing a lot of thigh, and that’s plenty enough for men to get excited about. As is the sight of your butt wrapped in a short skirt. I really wouldn’t worry about it. Just smile sweetly at them and enjoy the tips.”

Emily nodded, feeling uncomfortable. Fortunately both men left shortly afterwards, but from then on she was a little more careful about bending over when people were behind her.

She could not do much about her button, though. It seemed to be popping open more and more often. As she set down a couple of drinks at a table occupied by two elderly men, it happened again, and she blushed for the umpteenth time. “Sorry!” she said, fastening the button. “It keeps happening!”

“I’m not complaining!” said one of the old men, cackling in delight.

“Perhaps you should just leave it undone,” Trish suggested, smirking as Emily returned to the counter. “It’s obviously not going to stay closed.”

Emily groaned. She felt that every time her button popped open, it was drawing more attention to her chest than if it had been open to begin with. Perhaps she should try Trish’s suggestion; she already knew that Marv would be fine with it. But how would she herself cope?

“Look,” said Trish, nodding towards the door, where a young man had just entered. “Why not try it with this guy? He looks nice; I’m sure he’ll appreciate the view.” She reached out, and popped open Emily’s button.

Emily’s stomach knotted as she looked down at her over-exposed cleavage. “You really think it’s okay for me to look like this?” she whispered nervously.

“It’s fine!” said Trish with a grin. “Now turn around and take care of this guy with a nice smile.”

Emily steeled herself, put on a smile, and turned around. “Good afternoon!” she said. “What can I get for you?”

The young man was short and slender, and dressed for an office job. His eyes widened as they dropped to Emily’s chest. “Uh!” he said, startled. “Can I get a cappuccino please?” With an effort, he wrenched his eyes back up to her face.

“Certainly,” said Emily politely. “How about something to eat?”

“Um ... an apple Danish please?” he said.

“Sure!” said Emily. “That’ll be four dollars and fifteen cents please.”

He paid her in cash, stealing glances at her chest as often as he could while trying not to look as if he was staring. Once she had handed him his change, he dropped it in the tip jar.

“Thank you very much!” said Emily. “I’ll be right out with your order.”

When she brought the coffee and Danish to his table and set them down, he swallowed as he stared at her expansive cleavage. “Thank you,” he said in a quiet, almost reverent voice.

Emily smiled as she went back behind the counter. She knew she could not blame him for looking at her chest, but she was glad that he had refrained from making any lewd remarks. And he had been nice and polite. If every customer were like him, she felt she could handle being this exposed.

But of course, not every customer was so polite. “Hoo boy, you don’t get many of those to the pound, do you?” said one man in his forties. He was quite heavily built, and perspiring visibly.

“Knock it off, Hal,” said Trish sharply.

“Oh dear, should I cover up again?” Emily suggested hopefully, as Hal headed off to find a table.

Trish shook her head. “You just gotta put these guys in their place,” she said.

“But I’m so exposed!” said Emily unhappily. “Aren’t I encouraging that kind of comment?”

“What?” Trish looked annoyed. “Fuck no. Nobody is responsible for a man’s shitty behaviour except the man himself. Doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.”

“Please don’t use profanity,” said Emily, wincing.

Trish rolled her eyes in disgust. “Get used to it,” she responded. “I’m not moderating my language for you or for anyone.”

Emily pursed her lips, then nodded. “All right,” she said. “Sorry.”

Trish smirked. “Just for that...” Then she reached over, and popped open the next button down on Emily’s blouse.

Emily gasped, and clutched the two sides of her blouse together. “You can’t be serious!”

Trish laughed. “Your face!” she said. “No, I’m not serious. Chill, girl. I’m just teasing.”

Relieved, Emily refastened the button Trish had undone. “Thank goodness – you had me worried there!”

“Are you ever not worried?” Trish asked in amusement.

Emily blushed. It seemed like a fair critique; she did indeed feel as if she had spent most of her shift so far in a state of worry. And embarrassment. But could anybody blame her? Somehow or other, she seemed to have spent most of the past couple of days either undressed or underdressed in front of other people, quite against her wishes and intentions. It was rather unsettling, even if nothing really bad had happened as a result.

Ten minutes before the end of her shift, however, she had a nasty shock. She had just brought a well-dressed middle-aged man his coffee, and had turned to go back to the counter, when she felt his hand cupping her left buttock. She gasped and skipped away from him in a hurry, then reported to Trish in a low whisper what the man had done.

Trish, however, merely shrugged. “You learn to avoid guys like that,” she said. “You know, don’t get too close, keep out of reach of their hands. Kicking them out is always an option, but let Marv take care of that; don’t try to do it yourself or it might get ugly. It’s up to you if you want to go talk to Marv about this one. You can, and Marv will back you up, but it’ll likely mean the guy won’t come back, and that’s lost business. I wouldn’t blame you a bit if you wanted to do that; it’s up to you.”

Emily bit her lip. “He’s already paid,” she said, “and I don’t need to go back to his table until he’s gone. I guess, maybe, it’s not really worth making a fuss...”

Trish nodded. “That’s generally the way it goes. Remember his face, though, and treat him accordingly next time he shows up. If he shows up again. He’s not a regular, so it’s possible he’s just passing through.”

Emily took a deep breath, and let it out. “Okay,” she said. “I’m not sure I want the stress of seeing Marv kick him out, and I’m sure Marv wouldn’t enjoy that either.”

“You’re right, he wouldn’t,” Trish agreed. “You never know whether they’ll go quietly or not. Good call, Emily. Sometimes you just gotta take it, smile through clenched teeth, and resolve to spit in their coffee next time.”

Emily gasped. “I couldn’t do that! You ... you wouldn’t really, would you?”

“Of course not,” said Trish with a wink. “I mean, who’d be groping my butt? It’s been a lot of years since I had to worry about that kinda thing. Now Cassidy, on the other hand ... if I happened to find her crying in the restroom one afternoon, for example, and she told me about a guy who stuck his hand up her skirt ... and the guy came in the next day, and I served him his extra-frothy coffee...” She grinned.

Emily’s jaw dropped, and then she giggled. “Oh, that’s bad, Trish! What if Marv found out?”

Trish shrugged. “I’m admitting nothing,” she said. “I’m just saying it’s an option, if you ever need it.” She looked at the clock. “It’s quiet,” she said. “And almost time for you to go. You might as well go get changed.”

“Oh – thanks!” said Emily. She walked to Marv’s office, knocked, and entered.

Marv was working on his computer. “Oh hey Emily,” he said, looking up. “Come on in and close the door. Do you mind if I keep working here, while you get changed? I promise I won’t turn around this time!”

“Um, okay, I guess so,” said Emily. She would have preferred for him to leave, but this was after all his office, and she was sure that he had not intended to see her topless earlier.

“Great – thanks,” he said. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Oh! You decided to leave that button undone after all!”

Emily smiled sheepishly. “Well, it kept popping open!” she explained. “Eventually it seemed like it was just easier to leave it undone than keep fixing it.”

“Well, in all sincerity, you look gorgeous,” said Marv. “I know you think you’re showing too much cleavage, but I can assure you that you don’t look slutty or indecent or anything like that. You just look amazing – and that’s all I’ll say about that.”

“Awww, Marv!” said Emily, her cheeks very pink. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you to say so.”

“Not at all, just being honest,” said Marv cheerfully. ”But tell me ... did you manage to get used to it at all, or were you stressed out the whole time?”

“I was a little bit stressed,” Emily admitted. “Maybe not the whole time, but whenever anyone was looking at my chest...”

Marv nodded. “And the skirt? I know you were concerned about the length; did it turn out to be a major issue for you?”

“Not as much as my blouse,” said Emily, who would much rather not have been taking about this at all. “When I was behind the counter, I barely thought about it at all, and when I was out among the tables, I was more worried about my chest. But there was one guy...” She broke off, suddenly deciding she did not want to mention the groper to Marv, in case he got upset.

“Yes?” said Marv. “What did he do?”

She quickly changed her plan. “He whistled at me while I was bending over a table,” she said. “With my skirt being so short, I was a bit worried about what he could see.”

“Oh!” said Marv, frowning. “I don’t tolerate harassment of my staff, Emily. Do you think you could let me know, next time he comes in? I’m more than happy to bar him from this place.”

“Oh there’s no need for that,” said Emily hastily. “I can survive a whistle. I just ... you know ... I’d rather not be showing my panties to strangers! I don’t know if he could see them ... I’m not sure if I was bending over far enough for that. So it made me a bit anxious.”

Marv rubbed his chin. “Would it help if we figured out how far you can afford to bend over without showing your panties?” he asked.

“I suppose it might,” she conceded, unsure of what he was suggesting.

“Okay, then I propose an experiment,” said Marv. “Get someone you know and trust to sit behind you while you bend over to various degrees, and have them report to you what they can see. Then you’ll know at what degree of bending your skirt fails to provide adequate coverage. Seems to me that would be useful information for you to know, yes?”

“I guess so,” Emily agreed, though the idea of such an experiment made her stomach cramp a little.

“Perhaps you could ask Trish or Cassidy?” Marv suggested. “I’d be happy to be your guinea pig myself, but I imagine you’d rather pick a woman to take part in that kind of experiment.”

Emily shuddered at the thought of asking Trish to help her in such an experiment. Cassidy would be better ... but how would that work, with customers around? “I think Trish and Cassidy are probably too busy with customers,” she said.

“Hmm, maybe,” said Marv. “Well heck – maybe as your boss I should be the one to help you out with this issue anyway. What do you say? I know I’m a man, which might make you feel a little uncomfortable ... but I promise I will do my level best to remain objective, and give you my honest feedback. How about it?”

Emily gulped. She could see the value in Marv’s plan, but she was not at all sure she wanted to bend over in front of him. “Um...” she said, looking at the floor.

“You know what – never mind,” said Marv, shaking his head. “Silly idea. You’ve no reason to trust me; I don’t blame you at all for not being comfortable with bending over in front of me. I was just trying to be helpful, but ... I would hate for you to think I was being some kind of pervert for even suggesting it.”

“Oh, I don’t think that at all!” Emily hastily assured him, worried that she had offended him. “And I absolutely do trust you, Marv. I’m sorry if I seem reluctant – as you know I’m very embarrassed about exposing myself – but I know you’re just trying to help, and I’d be most grateful if ... you know ... you’d help me out with this.”

“Really?” said Marv, brightening. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Emily, expressing more confidence than she felt. “Uh, where should I...”

Marv scooted his chair across the floor, beyond the door, to the far corner. “Just go over to my desk,” he said, “and pretend it’s a table that you’re clearing, or wiping down.”

Emily did so, and bent over slightly as she reached across to the far side of the desk. Her cheeks burned as she imagined what Marv would be able to see. “Um ... how’s that?” she asked hesitantly.

“You’re perfectly decent,” said Marv. “If that’s as far as you bend over when clearing tables, then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh – good,” said Emily. But she knew she had been bending over more than this when that young man had wolf-whistled. She bent over a little further. “Um, how about this?”

“Still decent,” Marv reported. “Is that the position you were in when the guy whistled at you?”

“Not quite,” said Emily. Biting her lip, she bent over even further, until she was sure she was showing as much as she had shown the wolf-whistler.

“Ah,” said Marv. “Well ... it’s not bad ... but the guy definitely got a little bit of a show.”

Emily straightened up, and turned around, her cheeks very red. “Um, like how much of a show?”

“Best if I show you,” said Marv. “Can you get back in that position? I’ll take a photo and you can see for yourself.”

“A photo?” said Emily, her eyes widening.

“Well sure!” said Marv. “Oh, don’t worry – I wouldn’t dream of keeping it! It’s just so you can see what I was seeing.”

“Um ... okay,” said Emily uncomfortably. She turned around, and bent over the desk again, as Marv took out his phone.

“A little more,” said Marv. “I could see more before.”

Emily grimaced, and bent over a bit more.

“Okay, got it,” said Marv. “Come and see.”

Emily straightened up, and went over to stand beside Marv’s chair. As she looked down over his shoulder at his phone, she whimpered at the sight of the backs of her thighs, fully revealed, and the lower curves of both of her buttocks, with a tiny glimpse of white between them. “Oh gosh!” she said, aghast. “That’s what he saw? Oh dear – I’m so sorry, Marv!”

Marv looked up at her in puzzlement. “What are you sorry for?” he asked. “Is it your impression that you’ve done something wrong, Emily?”

“Well,” said Emily, mortified. “I’m ... indecent!”

Marv chuckled. “But that’s not your fault, is it? You didn’t choose the length of your skirt. And do you see anyone complaining? The only crime here is the guy whistling at you and making you feel bad.”

“But,” said Emily helplessly, “bending over and showing my ... my butt... That’s surely a bad thing to do!”

Marv shrugged. “Why?” he asked. “Heck, you just did it for me – was that bad? No! Would you do it for your fiancé? Sure, why not? Would that be bad? Of course not! Even if you did it deliberately, to entertain one of our customers, that would be fine. If you did it deliberately in front of a child, or someone you had reason to think would be upset by it, then yes, we’d have a problem. But you weren’t doing it deliberately at all, were you? You were just doing your job! If your butt becomes accidentally exposed as a result of you doing your job, you’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

“That’s ... an interesting way of looking at it,” said Emily dubiously. “It’s hard to fight years of being taught how important it is to be modest, though.”

Marv nodded. “And I’m sure you’ll have a few more internal battles about that,” he said. “But I want you to know that you have nothing to fear regarding me thinking any less of you for letting customers see your butt and/or panties. If any of them are mean to you about it, that’s a separate issue and one I’m happy to deal with. But I know you need to clean tables as part of your job, and it’s perhaps inevitable that you might occasionally show part of your butt. That might make you feel anxious, but please don’t think you’re doing something wrong. You’re fine! Just do a good job; that’s all I ask from you.”

“Thanks Marv,” said Emily. “You’re a nice man, and a good boss.” She had not really been looking for him to give her permission to show her bottom to customers, but she appreciated that he was trying to make her feel better.

Marv smiled. “All right, I’ll let you get changed,” he said, and he rolled his chair forward until he was back at his desk.

Emily took off her blouse and skirt, and then hurriedly put her bra on, followed by her yellow top. When she pulled on her pink skirt, however, she found she could not zip it up. After wrestling with the zipper for a few moments, she tutted in frustration.

“Something wrong?” asked Marv.

“It’s my zipper!” said Emily. “It’s stuck. It got stuck in the shop, too, but I thought my friend had fixed it.”

“Can I help?” asked Marv. “Is it okay if I turn around?”

Emily tried again, but it was no good. “Yes please,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not quite sure how to fix this. It won’t go up and it won’t go back down.”

Marv spun around, and slid his chair forward. “Hmm,” he said, taking hold of the slider and tugging at it. “Yeah, that’s pretty stuck. I can probably fix it, but you’ll need to take your skirt off so I can hold it under my desk light.”

Emily’s heart sank. Was everyone she met going to see her underwear? “All right, fine,” she muttered, a little grumpily, as she slid her skirt back down her legs. Then she immediately felt guilty. “Sorry Marv – it’s just that I don’t seem to be able to keep my clothes on for long these days. Something keeps happening to make me expose my underwear!”

Marv chuckled. “A run of bad luck, huh?” he said, glancing at the front of her panties as she handed him her skirt. “Well, I’ll do my best to fix this particular issue for you.” He took the skirt over to his desk light, and peered at the zipper. “Okay, yup, just got some material caught in there... Got it!” He turned back to Emily, smiling, and handed her the skirt.

“Thanks Marv!” said Emily, taking it.

The door opened, and Trish entered. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide, as she saw Emily standing in front of Marv in her top and panties, skirt in hand.

“Would it kill you to knock?” Marv inquired sharply.

Trish glared suspiciously at Emily. “Devon was just here,” she said, turning to Marv. “I told him you were out, but he’ll be back. Marv, you can’t keep putting him off.”

“Yes yes,” said Marv irritably. “Thanks Trish.”

Trish nodded. “Well I’ll just leave you to ... whatever it was you were doing.” She backed out of the room, and closed the door.

“Oh gosh!” gasped Emily, as she hurriedly pulled her skirt back up. “What does she think we were doing?”

“It’s none of her business,” said Marv grimly. “But don’t worry, I’ll explain it to her. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea any more than you do.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. She zipped up her skirt. “It’s perfect!”

“You’re welcome,” said Marv gruffly. “Now get going, and have a good afternoon.”

“Thanks Marv,” said Emily. “You too!”

As she walked past the counter, bag in hand, Emily paused, then turned to Trish. “He was fixing my zipper!” she said, a little indignantly. “It was stuck!”

“None of my business,” said Trish with a shrug.

Emily pursed her lips, then nodded. “Well, have a good day, Trish.”

“You too,” said Trish.

At that moment Kris walked in. “About fucking time!” said Trish. “You said you would only be half an hour late!”

“Sorry!” said Kris. “Hi Emily.”

“Hi Kris, and bye,” said Emily, and she hurried out.

After a short walk home, Emily dropped off her work clothes in her room, then she wondered what she should take with her to the spa. Her gym clothes? A towel? She was not sure, so she put both in her bag. Then she left the house again, and caught the next bus to the gym.

As she entered the building, feeling nervous, she walked up to the front desk, where Kendall was busily filing her nails. “Um, hi,” said Emily. “I’m here for a massage...?”

Kendall smiled. “Ah yes, I remember you. You have your card with you? Just swipe it, right there...”

Emily did so. “This is my first massage, so...”

“Just go through that door,” said Kendall, pointing, “and down the corridor to the end. Take a right, and look for room number 8. Go in there, take off your clothes, put a robe on, and Alex will be right with you.”

“Take off my clothes?” asked Emily, her eyes widening.

“Well you can keep your undies on if you want,” said Kendall matter-of-factly, “but it’s a full-body oil massage. You weren’t expecting to have that done through your clothes, were you?”

In fact, that was exactly what Emily had been expecting. Her cheeks returned to the rosy hue that had lately become such a signature facet of her complexion. “Um,” she said, “okay ... well ... number 8, you said?”

“Yes,” replied Kendall, looking amused. “Have fun!”

Emily nodded, and walked quickly over to the door Kendall had indicated. Passing through it, she followed the young woman’s directions, and soon found room number 8. She entered, and looked around. It was a small room, with a padded massage table in the centre that looked like a narrow bed. Soft lighting gave the room a cosy, peaceful atmosphere. A robe hung on a hook on the wall, and there was a chair for her clothes. A sink unit with cupboards was set against the far wall.

Biting her lip, Emily took off her shoes, then her skirt, and finally her top. Placing her shoes beneath the chair and her clothes upon it, she took the robe off its hook, and put it on. Then she sat down on the massage table, and waited.

Five minutes or so later, there was a knock on the door. “Hello?” she said. “Um, come in!” She clasped her fingers together anxiously.

The door opened, and in walked a very tanned man in a tight t-shirt and sweatpants. He was well-muscled, and quite good-looking, but his greying hair and the creases around his eyes gave away his age as perhaps early forties. “Hi!” he said. “I’m Alex. You must be Emily?”

“Yes,” said Emily.

“First time here?” asked Alex, walking over to the sink unit, and setting down a thermos that he had been carrying. He turned on the taps, and washed his hands.

“Yes,” said Emily again. Then, feeling like she ought to say something else, she added, “I’m not sure what to expect...”

Alex turned around, drying his hands on a towel. “Well,” he said, “that kinda depends on you, but what I do is called a Swedish massage, which is a pretty standard full-body massage using warm oil. Trust me, it’ll make you feel great. It’s not a deep tissue massage, so I’ll be going pretty gently on you; it’s a great massage for the inexperienced. Do you have any particular areas of concern? Any aches or pains I should know about?”

“I do have some back pain,” Emily admitted. “It’s plagued me ever since I ... developed...”

Alex nodded. “Ah yes, I see a lot of women with that issue. Well the good news is that I can totally relieve that back pain for you, and we’ll spend a good part of today’s session working on it. Sound good?”

“Yes!” said Emily, feeling very reassured by his confidence and professionalism.

“Okay!” said Alex. “Well, let’s get started.” He bent down, opened a drawer in the side of the massage table, and pulled out a large folded white towel. “If you could just slip out of that robe and lie down on your front, I’ll lay this over the top of you.”

Emily hesitated, her anxiety returning a little, but Kendall had prepared her for this, so Alex’s request did not come as a complete shock. Gritting her teeth slightly, she untied the sash of her robe, shrugged it off her shoulders, and let it fall until she caught it with her hands. Then she handed it to Alex.

“Thank you,” he said. Then, as she climbed on to the table, he added, “I understand that this is your first time, and I’m sure you’re feeling a little uncomfortable, but since we’re focusing on your back today, I would recommend taking your bra off too. It’ll be in the way, otherwise. You can keep your panties on.”

Emily gave a nervous little whimper. “Can I ... maybe ... just unclasp it?”

“Of course,” said Alex. “That’ll work.” He waited while she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. Then he pulled the straps outward, uncovering her entire back. Smiling down at her panties, he carefully laid the towel over her, covering her from mid thigh up to her shoulder blades. “All right, lets start with your shoulders. Are you feeling comfortable?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Emily.

He fetched his thermos, and poured some oil into his cupped palm. Satisfied with its temperature, he pulled Emily’s braid to one side, so that it would not get in the way, and poured some oil directly on to her back.

“Oh, that is warm!” she gasped.

“Yup!” said Alex, and he began to rub the oil into her skin. His touch was gentle, but assured, and Emily found herself relaxing despite her nervousness.

Five minutes later, she was feeling even more relaxed. In fact, she was feeling wonderful. Alex had folded the towel down until the small of her back was exposed, and he had thoroughly massaged every part of her back, finding every single muscle and diligently kneading it until it felt as if it had melted.

“How are you feeling so far?” he asked her. “Pretty good?”

“Very good!” she replied in a fervent murmur. “I didn’t know this could feel so nice!”

“Excellent, I’m so glad,” said Alex. “My goal is for you to leave here happy, relaxed, free of aches and pains, and looking forward to our next session. Now I’d like to do your arms; do you think you could slip them out of your bra straps?”

“Um,” said Emily, a smidgeon of anxiety returning. She might have pushed back on this request, five minutes ago, but the massage so far had engendered a good deal of trust. “Okay.” Moving carefully, she contrived to extract her arms without exposing her breasts, which remained nestling in the cups of her bra.

She was not expecting much from the arm massage, since she generally did not suffer from aching arms. But as Alex applied his prodigious skills to her biceps, triceps, and whatever other muscles she had in her arms, she found herself sighing with pleasure at how free and loose they began to feel.

Once he had laid her arms back down by her sides, he said, “Okay, and now the feet!”

The foot massage felt amazing, as she had expected it would. Then he moved on to her ankles, and then her calves, and she practically purred happily at how warm and relaxed this made her muscles feel. But when he folded the towel over again until it was just a thick band covering her panties and little else, and began massaging her thighs, she found herself getting nervous again. How high was he going to go?

Her thoughts raced. Her leg muscles no doubt went all the way up her legs, and Alex had so far been very thorough in his coverage. If he massaged her thighs all the way up to her panties, he would surely just be doing his job. But were all the women who came here really okay with a man feeling their legs that high up? Was she unusual in being freaked out by that thought? Granted, she was from a town whose morals seemed prudish by city standards, but was this really ... normal?

Alex certainly seemed to think so; his fingers were creeping higher and higher. ‘Don’t freak out, don’t freak out,’ Emily instructed herself urgently.

Her body language, however, gave her away of course. “You seem to be tensing up,” said Alex gently. “And I can imagine why. I’d like to do as thorough a job as I can, and give you your money’s worth ... but not at the expense of your comfort. If you’d like me to stop here, I will do so. Otherwise, I’ll continue ... and if it makes you feel any better, I can assure you there won’t be anything improper about what I do. I have done this many times, and I know where the line is drawn between a thorough massage and inappropriate touching. I’d encourage you, if you can, to try to let go of your inhibitions and preconceptions, and just give yourself permission to enjoy the experience. But like I said, if you feel you can’t and you’d like me to stop, I’ll stop immediately. Your comfort is the most important thing.”

This sounded so reasonable and professional that Emily felt guilty for having had concerns. The man was just doing his job, and he had been working wonders so far. She made herself relax. “I’m sorry I tensed up,” she said. “Please go on; I’ll try to stay relaxed. I certainly trust you to be professional.”

“Thank you,” said Alex. He poured more oil on to her left thigh, and continued massaging closer and closer to her panties. “I should warn you that as I reach the top of your leg, you may feel some minor sexual arousal. This is normal, and nothing to worry about. It’s an erogenous zone, and massaging it – while a valid and necessary part of the full-body treatment – inevitably stimulates feelings of excitement. I will try not to spend too much time on the area, but I thought I should give you a heads-up, so you’re not alarmed when it happens.”

It was already starting to happen a little, and Emily was relieved to hear that this was normal and expected. “Thank you for warning me,” she said, a little breathlessly.

Alex’s hands were soon barely an inch from her panties, sensuously kneading the flesh of her inner thigh as well as the back, just below her buttock. And still he went higher. “Almost done with this leg,” he said. “As I reach the top, it’s inevitable I’ll slightly brush your panties with my fingers. I’ll try to keep that to a minimum, but it’s also normal; try to stay relaxed.”

Emily tried, but it was hard not to panic as she felt his fingers lightly start to lightly rub her pussy through her panties. She knew that Alex was just doing his job, and she was determined not to make a fuss, but she could feel herself getting very aroused, and that was making her feel guilty. The guilt increased as the rubbing became a little firmer.

Alex grinned as he softly stroked Emily’s labia through her now damp and oily panties with the fingers of his right hand, while maintaining a firm massage of her upper thigh with his left. “How are you doing there?” he asked.

“I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable!” Emily gasped. “I have a fiancé, you see, and it just feels ... wrong...”

“I see,” said Alex, “but you’re not doing anything wrong, Emily. Feeling arousal is a natural part of this massage and you needn’t feel bad about it. In fact, since you can’t do anything about how your body responds, you might as well enjoy it. Many of the women I massage enjoy this part of it the most ... and I don’t judge them for it. But I’m done with this thigh anyway; on to the other.”

Emily felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when he stopped rubbing her pussy and moved on to her other thigh ... and a mixture of anxiety and excitement at the thought that he would soon be reaching the top of her right thigh. As his fingers worked their way higher and higher, she wondered if she could in good conscience let herself simply enjoy the stimulation, as he suggested. After all, if she could not do anything about the way her body responded ... and she really did not want to stop the massage before it was properly done.

Soon Alex was rubbing her labia again, this time with two fingers of his left hand, while continuing to massage the top of her thigh with his right. “So sorry about this,” he said, grinning happily, while daring to add another finger to the mix, and applying a little more pressure. His three fingers began making small circles, and Emily let out a little moan as he gently stroked her clitoris through the material.

“And that’s it for the back!” said Alex, withdrawing his hands. Always leave them wanting more... “How are you feeling so far?”

Emily was filled with relief; for a moment she had begun to suspect that Alex was rubbing her pussy on purpose, but now she felt ashamed for having doubted him. “Oh, I feel wonderful!” she said. “You’re so good at this – I feel so relaxed and happy, and my back just feels amazing. Thank you!”

“Good!” said Alex. “Perhaps next time we can do it without the panties, so I can massage your butt too. The muscles in your buttocks are connected both to those in your back and those in your thighs, you see, so it’s best to give them a good massage in order to achieve the maximum full-body benefits. But I’m sensitive to your concerns, so we’ll leave your butt alone for today. Next week, you can decide if you’re ready to try it without panties, and if you’re not, that’s totally fine.”

Emily’s mind was racing, imagining what it would be like to have Alex’s oily fingers rubbing her pussy while she was not wearing any panties. That would be crazy, surely? Did other women – married women, even – get their naked pussies rubbed during these massages? If so – and it certainly seemed to be so – no wonder full-body massages were popular!

“Now,” said Alex, unfolding the towel and spreading it out on top of her, “if you could please turn over on to your back...?”

“You’re ... you’re going to massage my front?” asked Emily, feeling nervous.

“Yes, of course,” said Alex. “I wouldn’t want to neglect half your body, would I? You have plenty of muscles at the front of your body. I already took care of the whole of each arm, but your chest, belly, abdomen, and legs all contain muscles I haven’t yet touched.”

Emily held her bra against her chest while she carefully turned herself over. Lying back down, she bit her lip as Alex gently took hold of her arms and laid them down by her sides. Then he folded back the towel so that her bra was partially uncovered, and poured some oil over her upper chest. As he began to massage her shoulders and across her clavicles, he smiled down at her. “Tell me about yourself, Emily,” he said. “You don’t sound like a city girl.”

“I’m from Oakwood,” she said, her eyes widening as he began working his way down her chest. “It’s a small town – we call it a village actually – but it’s very religious. I don’t know if you’ve heard of Robertines?”

“I have,” said Alex. “I actually bought my dining table from a Robertine store north of the city.”

“Yes, we do make a lot of furniture,” said Emily. “Ohh!”

Alex paused, his fingers on the soft flesh of the upper part of her breasts. “Would you like me to leave your breasts alone?” he asked. “I generally include the breasts as part of the chest massage, because it has a lot of benefits. A regular breast massage keeps the ligaments supple, firms up the breast tissue, stimulates blood flow, and can be an early warning system for breast cancer. If there are any lumps in there, I’ll find them. And in fact I may have saved a couple of lives already that way.”

“Wow!” said Emily, wide-eyed. “But ... I’m sorry ... I just can’t help feeling like only my fiancé should be touching my breasts.”

“Or your doctor, I assume?” said Alex.

“Well, yes, my doctor too,” agreed Emily.

“Or your masseur?” suggested Alex. “Why not make another exception, if it’s for a valid reason?”

Once again, he was making sense, though Emily shivered at the idea of him touching her breasts. “Um ... okay then,” she said reluctantly. At least, she wanted to be reluctant, and she felt she ought to be reluctant, but deep down she was feeling a sort of tingling anticipation. And that made her feel guilty. “Do ... do other women enjoy this part?”

Alex chuckled. “Most people – men and women – enjoy all parts of the massage. It wouldn’t be much good if it wasn’t enjoyable. But yes, women often like having their breasts massaged. They know I’m a professional, and that there’s nothing prurient about it. Sure, it’s all about the health benefits ... but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun, right?”

“I guess not,” said Emily, with a little shiver.

Alex applied a little more oil, then, leaning over her head, he slid his hands down beneath the cups of her bra. Emily gasped as she felt his fingers slide over her nipples, curl around the lower curves of her breasts, come back around the outsides, up over the top, then down again, grasping, stroking, kneading. Her nipples got caught between his fingers, and gently squeezed for a moment. It was all very ... sensuous.

The towel, and her bra, had been pushed down her torso as a result of all this, and now Alex picked up the bra and tossed it over on to the chair with the rest of her clothes. “I think that’s superfluous at this point,” he said. Then he went back to massaging her breasts, which were now fully out in the open. Emily closed her eyes, and worried at her lower lip with her teeth.

But then it was over, as Alex moved on down to her belly. Rather than lean over her any further, he had come around to one side, folded the towel back to uncover her midriff, and set about massaging her abs. Emily was normally very ticklish, and she was impressed by the way she did not feel even slightly tickled by the smooth, assured movements of Alex’s slippery hands.

“Would you forgive me for being a teensy bit unprofessional for a moment, Emily?” Alex asked.

Emily’s brow furrowed in worry, and she suddenly became very self-conscious about the fact that her bare breasts were out in the open. “Wh...what do you mean?” she asked anxiously.

“As you can imagine,” said Alex, his hands working their way lower and lower down her abdomen, “I massage bodies of all shapes and sizes. And ages. I massage old women, old men, fat women, skinny men ... you name it. And of course I do as good a job as I can for everyone, regardless of what they look like. But I’m only human, and I confess sometimes it can be a bit of a chore. Some bodies are just nicer to massage than others; that’s just a fact. And I must say, Emily ... it’s a real pleasure to massage such a beautiful body as yours.“

“Oh!” said Emily, blushing deeply. Well that was not as bad as she had feared. In fact she was feeling very flattered. “Thank you Alex – it’s most kind of you to say so.”

“Okay, back to business!” said Alex. “I’ve almost reached your panties, and out of respect for your comfort, I’ll go no further than the waistband, even though there are muscle groups that go beyond that point. If you decide to ditch the panties for your next session, I’ll be able to be a little more thorough. But for now, let’s move on to your shins.”

Emily was surprised to find herself feeling a little regretful that he had not talked her into taking off her panties. Although she was grateful that he was respecting her limits, she could not help feeling that she was missing out on part of the experience. The thought of being massaged naked was terrifying ... but Alex’s consummate professionalism was so reassuring; she felt that somehow he would make it seem all right, and would give her the best massage possible.

As Alex massaged her shins, it occurred to Emily to wonder why he had not covered her breasts back up. She was fairly sure he was done with her top half. Was it an oversight? Or did he perhaps feel that, having exposed and massaged her breasts already, covering them up was a little pointless?

The towel was in reach of her own hands; she could cover herself back up if she chose. But was she allowed to do that? Would he object? Surely he would have no reason to object. But would he be disappointed...?

Now he was folding the towel back to uncover her thighs. “Onward and upward!” he said, smiling down at her. “How are you feeling?”

“Just wonderful!” said Emily. “I had no idea this would make me feel so good.”

“That makes me happy,” said Alex, working his way up her right thigh. “It’s always nice to hear that my work is appreciated.” He poured some more oil on to her thigh.

Emily stared up at the ceiling as his fingers moved higher and higher, approaching her panties. Her mind was beginning to race. Would he rub her pussy again? Why was she not more alarmed by that thought? Should she ask him to be careful? Or maybe even to stop short of the tops of her thighs?

“I’m getting close to the top now,” said Alex. “Once again, in order to do a thorough job, I’m afraid I’ll be rubbing against your panties a little. In fact, since I’m doing your front now, it’ll feel a little firmer than before. Are you going to be okay with that, or should I just stop at this point?”

“Wh...whatever you think is best,” said Emily, slightly breathlessly. “I’ll try not to panic about it.”

What was she thinking? Had she just given him permission to rub her pussy? This felt like some strange dream. How was she not screaming in panic about lying on a table, naked but for a pair of panties and a rolled-up towel lying across them, while a total stranger massaged her right thigh, his fingers lightly brushing her pussy through her panties ... and then rubbing more firmly ... pressing against and kneading her labia ... gently nudging between them ... caressing her clitoris... She involuntarily gasped, and arched her back a little.

“Some women like this part a lot,” said Alex conversationally, now blatantly cupping her pussy with the fingers of his right hand, and sensuously massaging it. “You can choose to ignore the sensations if you wish, but don’t feel bad about letting yourself enjoy them. It’s perfectly healthy and natural, and believe me I’m used to it.”

Emily nodded silently, her eyes closed. She could not have ignored the sensations if she tried, and while she would have tried to suppress her enjoyment if she had thought it was genuinely improper, she was relieved by Alex’s reassurances that this was all perfectly normal.

But then he stopped, and she almost groaned in disappointment. He was now moving on to her left thigh, and she could not help hoping that when he got to the top, he would spend a little more time there.

Fortunately, it was not long before he reached her pussy again, and she sighed happily as he resumed massaging it. She wanted to tell him not to stop, to keep going and going ... but she did not want to come across as sexually immoral. She just hoped that he would continue, at least for a bit...

Alex lifted the towel off Emily with his left hand, and dropped it on the floor, while escalating the intensity of the pussy-massage with his right hand. Gone was any pretence of massaging her thigh at the same time. As Emily’s moans rose in pitch, he said, “I’ll just keep massaging you like this for as long as you want. Feel free to let yourself go, and enjoy it to the full. No judgments here.”

It was the permission Emily needed; she raised her knees, parted her thighs, arched her back with her palms pressed down against the pad either side of her, and uttered a long, high-pitched moan of ecstasy. Her whole body shuddered, held rigid for a few seconds, and then slumped, limp, while Alex switched from a frantic rubbing of her clit to a slow, gentle massage of her entire pussy.

Emily lay panting for a full minute before she opened her eyes. She looked down to see herself naked but for her panties, her legs slightly spread, and Alex’s hand cupping her pussy through her panties. The towel was gone; she had not even noticed when he took it off. “Oh my gosh!” she groaned. “I don’t think I should have done this!”

“You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about, Emily,” Alex assured her. “And neither do I. I do, however, have a confession to make.”

Emily folded her arms across her breasts anxiously. “What’s that?”

Alex sighed, and finally took his hand off her panties. “Technically I’m not allowed to give you an orgasm,” he said. “I did so because I believed it was the right thing to do; I just couldn’t leave you hanging in a heightened state of arousal. It would have been cruel. The rules are there for a reason – to stop masseurs from taking advantage of our customers, and to avoid litigation from unhappy customers – but sometimes I choose to bend them if I feel it’s the right thing to do. In this case, I felt you would achieve the most benefit from having an orgasm ... and so I gave it to you. The health benefits of orgasms are well documented; they induce a hyper-relaxed state, they release endorphins, they can boost your immune system, and they increase blood flow to the brain. But if you wish to report me and get me fired, I won’t dispute your account of what I did. I think I did the right thing, and I’d do it again, so I’m happy to be held accountable for my actions.”

“Oh goodness!” said Emily, aghast. “Well ... I don’t know ... this is so confusing! I ... I certainly don’t want you to get fired!”

“I appreciate that,” said Alex. “And do you feel that I gave you a good massage?”

“Oh my goodness, yes!” said Emily earnestly. “So good!”

“Here, let me help you off the table,” said Alex, holding out his hand. “I want you to stand up, flex, stretch, and walk around a bit. See how your muscles feel when you’re using them.”

Emily kept one arm over her breasts while holding her other hand out to Alex. As he took it, she sat up, then swung her legs over the side of the table. Letting go of Alex’s hand, she dismounted, then began to walk around the table. “Oh, I feel really good!” she said, turning to face Alex.

He nodded, smiling. “Try a good stretch,” he suggested. “Really reach up high with your arms.”

This of course would mean exposing her breasts to him again. For a moment she hesitated, but then she realised how pointless it was to be so modest around Alex, when he had already not only seen her breasts, but also thoroughly massaged them. She raised her arms above her head, and stretched. “Ooh, I feel so supple! Honestly, Alex, it was such a wonderful massage – I had no idea beforehand how good I would feel afterward.”

Alex smiled. “So ... you’re not mad at me for giving you an orgasm?”

Emily dropped her arms to her sides; she felt it would be foolish and redundant to cover her breasts again. “How could I be mad?” she said, with a rueful smile. “Obviously it was a great experience. And you did it for the benefit of my health. I can understand why it’s against the rules, but I also understand that you felt you were doing the right thing, and I can’t say I disagree with you, after hearing you describe the health benefits. I appreciate you risking your job in order to give me the best massage you could, Alex. You don’t have to worry about me reporting you.”

“Thank you, Emily,” said Alex, looking relieved. “I appreciate your understanding. And if I may make so bold, could you please keep it just between the two of us? I don’t want word getting out.”

“Of course!” said Emily. “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” said Alex with a smile. “Shall I set up an appointment for next week, same time?”

Emily shivered. “Yes please,” she heard herself saying. Of course he would probably give her another orgasm ... and what if she were not wearing panties...?

“Okay!” said Alex. “Well it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Emily, and massaging you. And may I reiterate what a privilege it has been to massage such a beautiful woman.” He looked her up and down appreciatively.

Emily blushed deeply. “Thank you,” she said.

“Now I’ll leave you to get dressed,” said Alex. “The oil soaks in pretty well, but if you want to have a shower, you’re welcome to use the robe and towel, and go down the corridor to the showers. Just take a left as you leave this room.”

“Thank you,” said Emily again. “See...” She swallowed. “See you next week!”

“I look forward to it,” he said, and he left the room.

Emily felt her skin; it was not as oily as she would have expected, but she still did not fancy putting on her clothes over it. Putting on the robe and taking her clothes and the towel with her, she went in search of the showers, and soon found them.

After a quick wash, she got dressed and then left the shower room, taking the robe and towel with her. But when she tried to return them to the massage room, she found the door shut and a card saying “Massage in progress – please do not disturb” hung from the handle.

She returned to the front desk. “Hi,” she said to Kendall. “I wasn’t sure what to do with these...”

“Oh, I can take them,” said Kendall. “I’m future, though, you can just leave them in the shower room.”

Emily handed her the robe and towel. “Thank you,” she said.

“How was the massage?” Kendall asked. “Alex stopped by and made an appointment for you for the same time next week, so I’m guessing it went well?”

Emily’s cheeks turned pink. “It was amazing,” she said.

“Good!” said Kendall. “And thank you. Alex is one of our newer guys, so it’s nice to get good feedback about him. Well, enjoy the rest of your day!”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “You too.”

As she rode the bus back to the Davises’ house, she could not stop thinking about the massage. On the one hand, she could not help feeling as if she had done something wrong, despite Alex’s assurances to the contrary. She felt guilty, and wondered how she was going to look Nathan in the eye, next time they got together. On the other hand, although it troubled her to admit it, even to herself ... it had been one of the most exciting experiences of her entire life.

And so she found herself vacillating between a strong moral impetus not to go back to Alex for another massage next week, and an equally strong craving to feel his wonderfully firm, confident, gentle hands all over her body. She shivered. Then she whimpered. Whatever was she going to tell Nathan?

She could not tell him about the orgasm; she had made a promise to Alex. But that meant keeping something pretty big from him; something he really ought to know about. She had to find a way to confess to him without giving him all the details...

Still tormented with indecision over this issue, she arrived home and began helping Mary with dinner preparations. Then Paul came thundering down the stairs. “Ah!” he said. “I thought I heard your voice, Emily. Nathan called; he wants you to call him back as soon as you can.”

“Oh!” said Emily. She turned to Mary. “Do you mind if I...”

“You go right ahead,” said Mary.

“How can you not even have your own phone?” Paul inquired, seeming baffled. “You’ve been apart from him for ... how many weeks? Didn’t you miss talking to him? How did the two of you communicate?”

“By phone!” said Emily, amused. “We do have phones in Oakwood! Most of us do just fine with a landline though.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” said Mary firmly.

Emily went to the phone in the hallway, picked up the handset, and dialled Nathan’s number. He picked up almost immediately.

“Hey Babe, where’ve you been?” were his first words.

“I went to the sports centre for a massage,” she said. “I did mention it...”

“Oh yes, I forgot,” he said. “Well listen, can you come over? I have exciting news!”

“What news?” asked Emily. “I’m about to have dinner with the Davises!”

“Oh ... well can you make your apologies? We’re having pizza at the warehouse.”

“The warehouse?” Emily repeated. “We’re having a practise this evening?”

“Yes!” said Nathan excitedly. “We need to get perfect! You know why? We have a gig!”

Emily blinked. “A gig?”

“Yes! At a bar called Lucky’s. Tomorrow night! Isn’t that awesome? Warren arranged it.”

“Nathan!” said Emily anxiously. “We’re not ready! Not nearly ready! Is Warren crazy? We can’t get ourselves performance-ready in one day!”

“Can you memorize your lyrics in a day?” asked Nathan.

“Well yes,” said Emily. “I mean there’s not a lot to them...”

“Great! Well the rest of us have been rehearsing non-stop today and I think we’re almost there. We were hoping you’d come by after you finished work; I’d forgotten about your massage. Anyway, can you come over?”

“I don’t know, Nathan! It would be rude to just run out on the Davises right before dinner...”

“If you explained why, and apologised, I don’t think that would be rude...”

Emily sighed. “All right, I’ll ask.”

“Great! See you soon.”

Emily returned to the kitchen. “I’m so sorry about this...” she began.

“You need to go and see Nathan?” asked Mary. “Of course you can! He’s your fiancé after all.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. “I’ll see you later then.”

She was about to leave when the front door opened and Jacob walked in. “Hi Emily!” he said.

“Hi Jacob,” she replied. “I’m afraid I’m about to head out; Nathan called me and asked me to come over.”

“Oh!” said Jacob. “Well I’m sorry that we won’t have the pleasure of your company at dinner, but I quite understand. Let me give you a ride, though; it’s a bit of a long walk otherwise.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose...” said Emily, although the thought of being driven there was quite appealing.

“Nonsense, dear, it’s no trouble!” said Mary from the kitchen.

“Well then – thank you!” said Emily.

She went outside with Jacob, climbed into his car, and the two of them made pleasant small talk on the short journey to Lansdowne Street. At one point, when Emily looked up at Jacob, she caught him glancing down at her bare knees. She hoped he did not disapprove of the shortness of her skirt.

“Thanks for the ride, Jacob!” she said, as he slowed to a halt, level with the front door of Nathan’s building.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile.

Emily got out, walked up to the front door, and pressed the button for Nathan’s apartment. He let her in, and she climbed the stairs to the second floor. But Nathan was already coming down them. “Hi Baby!” he said, spreading his arms. “You were quick!”

She hugged and kissed him. “Jacob gave me a ride.”

“That was nice of him,” said Nathan. “Okay, let’s go. You look nice by the way – I like to see your legs!”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling.

As they waited at the bus stop, a few moments later, Emily bit her lip fretfully. “Nathan,” she said, “I ... I need to tell you something...”

“Oh?” he said.

“You know I love you, right?” she said. “With all my heart?”

“I do,” he said, turning to face her with a slightly anxious look. “Why? Has ... has something happened?”

Emily looked down at her feet. “Actually ... there’s been a couple of things. My massage today – it was a little more ... intimate ... than I was expecting...”

“Oh?” Nathan inquired. “Like how?”

“He ... he massaged my breasts,” said Emily hesitantly. “He explained it was a standard part of the massage, and it has a bunch of health benefits – improving the skin, and the tissue inside, and stuff.”

“Huh!” said Nathan, looking surprised. Then he shrugged. “Well it sounds like he was just doing his job. I imagine he enjoyed it though! You do have amazing boobs.” He chuckled.

“You’re ... you’re not mad?” Emily asked him in surprise.

Nathan shook his head. “He’s a masseuse!” he said.

“Masseur,” Emily corrected him.

“Sorry, masseur then,” said Nathan. “If this is what he does, then he’s just like a doctor, right? Heck, am I supposed to get mad at your gynaecologist?”

Emily gasped. “I don’t have one, you silly thing!”

“Well you should!” Nathan retorted. “You shouldn’t ignore the health of your ... downstairs bits.”

“I know,” said Emily uncomfortably. “But the thought of a doctor poking and prodding down there...” She shuddered.

“I understand,” said Nathan sympathetically. “But you really do need to bite the bullet and get yourself looked at while you’re still on your parents’ health insurance.”

“That gives me a few years then!” said Emily lightly.

“Sooner rather than later!” said Nathan firmly. “Come on, you know I’m right about this.”

Emily sighed. “All right, I know. I guess I’ll have to find myself a family doctor here in the city, if we’re going to be here a while.”

Nathan nodded. “Me too,” he said. “So what was the other thing that happened?”

Emily gulped. “Um ... well ... it’s about Paul, the Davises’ son. He ... he asked me for a goodnight kiss, the night before last.”

“Oh?” Nathan raised an eyebrow.

“He’s kinda spotty, and not very good-looking,” continued Emily, quickly trying to construct a defence of her actions. “He’s never had a girlfriend, and I’m sure he must be lonely. I didn’t think there was any harm in a goodnight kiss, and I thought it would be a nice thing for him.”

Nathan nodded. “Sure, that sounds okay.”

“The thing is,” Emily went on awkwardly, “he asked me to kiss him on the lips, so that I didn’t have to kiss his ... spots. And ... I did.”

Nathan rubbed at his chin. “Okay...” he said. “Sounds like he was pushing his luck a bit there, but I guess he could have been sincere. So you kissed him on the lips, to be nice to him. But you’re not attracted to him, right?”

“No!” said Emily firmly.

“Then it’s no big deal,” said Nathan.

“Except ... there’s more,” Emily added, but she was cut short by the arrival of the bus.

“Tell me inside,” said Nathan. They boarded, paid, and found seats. “Okay, go on.”

Emily sighed. “Last night,” she said, “he came to my room, hoping for another goodnight kiss. I ... I was wearing just a top and a pair of panties ... and he saw me like that...”

“Whoa!” said Nathan, smirking. “Man, what a lucky kid! You must have made his day! I don’t think even I’ve seen you like that!”

“You’ve seen me in just a bra and panties!” Emily reminded him. “And you’ve seen my breasts.”

Nathan nodded. “But just a top and panties sounds, I don’t know, even sexier than a bra and panties.”

“Really?” asked Emily, puzzled.

Nathan shrugged. “I’m not sure if I can explain why. I guess I’m not a big fan of bras, though. They seem like, I don’t know, like cages – all wire and straps and hard material, like they’re locking your boobs away.”

Emily was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I worked at the coffee shop today without a bra.”

Nathan gasped. “You did?”

Emily nodded. “My blouse is so tight; the extra bulk of the bra was stretching it too much. Anthony at the clothing store seemed to think it would be a good idea to go braless, and Marv agreed ... so I did it.”

“Wow!” Nathan exclaimed. “Wow wow wow! I wish I’d seen that!”

Emily giggled. “Maybe I’ll demonstrate for you later,” she said. “But Nathan ... I have more to tell you about Paul...”

“Oh yes,” said Nathan, nodding. “Go on.”

“He ... he kind of begged me for a French kiss,” said Emily, her cheeks turning crimson at the memory. “He seemed so sad at the thought that it could be years before he gets a girlfriend ... and I don’t know, I guess I just felt so sorry for him. I ... I’m afraid I said he could French kiss me ... just once.”

“My goodness!” said Nathan, wide-eyes. “Never mind his day, you must have made his year! So ... it really happened?”

Emily nodded. “He wasn’t very good at it, understandably. But he was very enthusiastic, and while he was kissing me, he ... he grabbed my butt.”

“And you only had panties on? Oh my goodness!”

Emily nodded. “I pushed him away, and that was it. So ... I’m sorry, Nathan. It was probably a bad idea.”

Nathan shrugged. “Are you planning to leave me for him?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “Of course not!”

”Do you fancy him?”

“Also no!”

“Then,” said Nathan, “I don’t mind at all. Some guys would, I’m sure, but I’m not threatened by a zitty teenager that you were just being nice to. I think it’s cool that you let him French kiss you, actually. And kinda sexy, especially given what you were wearing at the time. I just wish I could have seen it!”

Emily poked his ribs. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

“I’m not!” he said. “Genuinely, I don’t mind you giving Paul some charity kissing, as long as you’re not, you know, into him. I don’t feel threatened by him. You can carry on giving him goodnight kisses if you like, with or without tongues.”

“Seriously?” Emily gasped. “But ... I don’t really want to!”

“And that’s why I don’t have a problem with it,” said Nathan. “But I’d love to do the same with you this evening, after our practice. I mean, with you in just a top and panties...”

Emily blushed. “Maybe,” she said.

His face fell. “You’re perfectly happy to do it with Paul, but I only get a ‘maybe’?”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” said Emily hastily. “I’d have preferred to be fully dressed for my kiss with Paul, but he caught me as I was going to bed. But for you, yes, I’d be happy to dress that way for our kiss, if that’s what you want.”

Nathan nodded. “Thank you,” he said, seeming mollified. “Okay, our stop’s coming up...”

They disembarked, and walked the short distance to the derelict publishing building. Inside, they made their way into the old press room, where Warren and Vinnie and Marco were already rehearsing. “Heyyy!” said Warren. “Look who showed up! Help yourself to pizza, guys.”

Emily sat and ate her pizza with Nathan, while the others, who had already eaten, sat and chatted excitedly with them about the following night’s gig. “This could be the beginning of big things for us, guys!” said Warren, with cheerful optimism.

“I don’t feel ready,” said Emily nervously.

“That’s why we’re rehearsing!” said Marco. “Seriously, Emily, we’re a lot better than we were on Tuesday. The bass parts aren’t too hard, and I’ve got them down pretty perfectly.”

“But ... performing live!” said Emily, with a shiver. “Aren’t you ... nervous? What if they don’t like us?”

“What’s not to like?” asked Nathan. “The music’s great, we’ll all be performing it well by this time tomorrow ... and the audience will have you to look at!”

“I’m not sure I want them looking at me!” said Emily. “What are we even wearing? Shouldn’t we have costumes or something?”

“Oh! Yes!” said Warren. “Well, not costumes exactly ... but I did splash out on t-shirts for all of us. My buddy Neil works at a shop that does custom-printed t-shirts, and he assured me he could get them done by tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’ll be cool!” said Nathan. “What about our bottom half? Just jeans?”

“Yup,” said Warren. “It’ll be cool if we all match.”

“Oh!” said Emily in concern. “Jeans? Really? I ... I’d really rather not...”

Nathan chuckled. “Emily thinks all pants are men’s clothes,” he said. “And she won’t wear them. Can she wear a skirt instead?”

“Hmm, I guess so,” said Warren grudgingly. “Do you have a denim skirt, Emily?”

Emily stiffened. “Um ... I guess I do,” she confessed, “but it’s kinda short! Sasha bought it for me, even though I didn’t really want it.”

“Well now you have a reason to wear it!” said Warren with a smile. “A denim miniskirt; I’m warming to this idea!”

“It can’t be as short as your work skirt, surely?” asked Nathan.

“It’s probably about the same length,” said Emily, not very happy with the way this conversation was going.

“Then you can wear it, can’t you?” said Nathan. “Rock singers usually wear things on stage that they wouldn’t get away with wearing on the street. Female singers often wear outrageously short miniskirts.”

“But that’s just not me!” Emily protested. “I’m used to ankle-length dresses!”

“And yet you’ve adapted pretty well to wearing miniskirts in the coffee shop,” Nathan remarked. “Come on, Baby – you can do it for the band, can’t you?”

“I’ll try it on,” said Emily reluctantly, “and see how I feel in it.”

“Great!” said Warren. “Come on, then, let’s rehearse.”

They rehearsed, and rehearsed. To begin with, Emily found herself to be the weakest link, being so unfamiliar with her parts. But with repetition came more confidence, and more volume.

“That was great!” said Warren enthusiastically at the end of a full play-through of Hometown Girl. “Emily, you’re sounding fantastic. But tomorrow night, are you going to be, I dunno, moving a little...?”

“Moving?” repeated Emily, a little bemused. Her only public singing previously had been in church, and she had not been asked to ‘move’ while singing.

“You know,” said Warren. “Like, can you dance?”

“Dancing’s a little frowned-on where we come from,” Nathan explained. “It’s not, like, banned ... but it’s not something ‘good girls’ do. And Emily’s definitely always been a good girl.”

“Holy shit, well we can’t have you just standing there like a statue!” said Warren. “Can you just try some moves, and we can see how you look?”

Emily suddenly felt very self-conscious. “Why am I the only one who has to dance?” she asked plaintively.

“You’ve seen the rest of us perform,” said Warren. “Vinnie’s throwing shapes, Marco’s bouncing around like a rubber ball, Nathan’s got his whole dramatic frontman shtick ... you need to be doing something besides just standing there. And you’re a hot girl; makes sense for you to dance.”

Sweat was beading on Emily’s brow. “I ... I need some music,” she said.

Warren nodded. “Okay, Hometown Girl, from the top.”

They began to play through the song again, and Emily tried to dance. But it was hopeless: she both felt and looked awkward and uncomfortable as she shifted from one foot to the other, swinging her arms and nodding in time to the beat. Warren stopped drumming in the middle of a line, and said, “Okay, okay, okay!” As Nathan trailed off, and Vinnie and Marco silenced their guitars, Warren ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks Emily, thanks for giving it your best shot. But I think maybe you need dancing lessons or something.”

Emily hung her head, feeling humiliated.

Vinnie and Marco looked at each other. “Aunt Rosita,” they said in unison.

Warren stared at them. “Who or what is Aunt Rosita?”

“Mom’s younger sister,” said Vinnie. “She runs a dance studio, Down and Dirty, a few blocks from here. Mainly Latin ballroom stuff, I think. But if anyone can get Emily moving, it’s Rosita. And as a favour to family members ... well, I’m sure she’d love to help.”

Nathan turned to Emily. “What do you think, Babe?” he asked her. “Are you willing to give it a shot?”

Emily actually felt like she wanted to run away. But she hated to disappoint people, and this might not be a bad plan. “But there’s so little time!” she said. “What time’s the gig?”

“We’re on at eight o’clock,” said Warren. “But we’ll need time to set up, so I’d suggest getting there at seven. I suggest we meet here at, say, six-thirty?”

“Emily works until three,” said Nathan.

“Not a big window to work with!” said Vinnie. “But I’ll talk to Rosita and see what she says.” He pulled out his phone.

The following conversation was, Emily was intrigued to hear, in Italian. She did not understand a word of it, but apparently it was going well, because Vinnie was looking very happy by its end. After he hung up, he turned to the others with a big grin.

“She’d love to help!” he reported. “Says if you can show up at her studio at half past three tomorrow, Emily, she’ll have one of her instructors give you a two-hour crash course. Free of charge, too! I said to her, ‘Aunt Rosita, you realise she’ll be dancing to rock songs on stage without a partner,’ and she said ‘Si, si, we’ll give her some simple moves, something she can pick up quickly. The important thing is to teach her how to hear the music with her body, not just with her ears.’ So yeah, I think we’re all set ... as long as Emily’s okay with this plan.”

Emily nodded. She felt a little bit railroaded, like she was no longer in charge of her own destiny ... but her the thought of getting a free two-hour dance lesson with a proper dance instructor was not without appeal. She had often looked wistfully at dancers on television, and wondered what it would be like to be so graceful, to have that kind of talent. But there had been none to teach her, or even encourage her in that direction.

Rehearsals continued until around nine o’clock. Emily had been worried that the other members of the band would want to carry on well into the night, but in truth, they had been at it for so much of the day that they were ready to call it a night almost before she was.

Nathan accompanied her to the bus stop, and they rode together back to his apartment. There, they shut themselves in his bedroom, and he turned to her with an expectant grin. “Now ... can I see your work outfit please? Without the bra?”

Emily blushed. “I guess so,” she said. “Would you mind turning around?”

Glad she was not asking him to leave the room this time, Nathan readily complied. A couple of minutes later, she said “Okay, ready.”

He turned back around, and his eyes widened. “Wow!” he gasped. “You really looked like this today in the coffee shop?”

Emily nodded, her expression rueful. She had considered fastening the button she had left undone today, but then decided she might as well be honest with her fiancé about what she had worn. She gestured to the button in question. “This button kept popping open,” she explained apologetically. “Both Trish and Marv seemed to think I should leave it undone, so eventually I just gave up trying to keep it done up.”

“Well you look ... fantastic!” said Nathan. “So sexy!”

“But should I be looking sexy in a coffee shop?” asked Emily plaintively. “Whatever would my parents say?”

Nathan shrugged. “They’re not here,” he said. “They needn’t know. And this isn’t Oakwood! Different standards apply here. What’s appropriate for a coffee shop there isn’t the same as what’s appropriate here. If your boss has approved your outfit, then by definition it’s appropriate.”

“I guess so,” Emily acknowledged. “I still feel terribly exposed though.”

“Of course you do,” said Nathan. “You’re not used to it. Now ... can I please see you as you were dressed when you French-kissed Paul?”

Emily grimaced, but nodded. “Turn around please.”

Nathan did so. A minute later, upon her instruction, he turned back. “Wow...”

“This isn’t quite the same outfit,” said Emily, “because I don’t have a tank top with me. Just imagine this, but without the sleeves.”

“I love it!” said Nathan happily. He stepped forward, and took her in his arms. “And I love you.” He kissed her, and she kissed him back, their tongues entwining sensuously. This was a far better kiss than last night’s with Paul, she could not help thinking ... but as Nathan reached down and began massaging her buttocks through her panties, the experience became uncomfortably similar to her clinch with Paul.

She pulled back. “Okay, I’d better get home,” she said.

“Really? It’s not that late,” said Nathan, looking disappointed.

“I know, but if we carry on fooling around like this,” said Emily, “I know what you’re going to want. And we can’t.”

Nathan sighed. “I’m happy to wait until we’re married, Emily, but, you know, there’s other stuff we can do before then, right?”

“I know,” she said, looking down at his chest. “I just don’t want us to get too carried away.”

“Can I ... see them again?” Nathan asked hopefully.

Emily blushed. “Okay, I guess so.” After all, her bare breasts had now been seen by Anthony, Marv, and Alex ... she supposed it was only fair to let Nathan see them for a second time. She stepped back away from Nathan, grasped the hem of her top, and pulled it up over her head.

“Oh, wow...” gasped Nathan, staring at her breasts. “They’re so beautiful, Emily – I just love them!”

She smiled. “Now you’re seeing me in just my panties,” she said. “This is a first, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “As was seeing you in a top and panties,” he said. “Both very exciting experiences!” Then he grinned hopefully. “Can I ... touch them...?”

Emily bit her lip. She did not feel she could refuse him, now that her naked breasts had been oiled up and massaged by another man. “All right,” she said.

His eyes wide with excitement, Nathan stepped forward, and took her breasts in his hands. “Wowwww...” he murmured, as he slowly squeezed them, and pinched her nipples. He pushed them upward experimentally, then squished them together.

It was not a very satisfactory experience for Emily, compared with the massage Alex had given her. “Okay, I’m feeling a bit self-conscious now,” she said. “Can I get dressed, please?”

“Sure.” Nathan let go of her breasts. But as she reached for her bra, he said, “Can’t you maybe ... leave the bra off? I really like the way you look in a top with no bra underneath. It shows your natural shape, not the seams and wires and straps of your bra.”

“Nathan, I’m about to go back to the Davises’,” she said. “What would they think of me if they saw I was wearing a top with no bra beneath?”

Nathan shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Do you? They’ve been living in the city for a while; they know things are different here. Are you sure they’d be bothered?”

Emily fidgeted uncertainly with the bra in her hand. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Only one way to find out!” said Nathan cheerfully. “Personally I’d love to see you ditch bras entirely, but I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, and she put her bra back on. “I’ll try to find a way to bring up the subject with Jacob and Mary, but I don’t want to come home without a bra after leaving with one on. It’ll make them think I got up to mischief while I was out with you.”

Nathan chuckled. “Would that be so bad? I’m your fiancé!”

“I know,” she said, “but even so. I just don’t want them thinking in those terms.” She finished getting dressed. “It’s dark out. Would you mind walking me home?”

“Of course not,” he said.

They left the apartment, and walked together to the Davises’ house.

“Goodnight, Baby,” said Nathan, giving her a kiss.

“Goodnight Nathan,” she replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, for the gig!” said Nathan. “I can’t wait! Don’t forget to bring your denim skirt with you.”

Emily grimaced. “I won’t.”

“Aww, don’t look so worried,” he said. “You look amazing in short skirts!”

“I feel naked in them,” she replied morosely.

“That’s just because you’re so used to wearing ankle-length skirts,” he said. “But here in the city...”

“I know, I know,” said Emily with a sigh, “it’s different here in the city. So everyone keeps saying. Well I guess I’m already adapting – look at what I wear for my job at the coffee shop! But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I understand,” said Nathan sympathetically. “I just want you to know that you look great in miniskirts, and I love to see you wearing them. Perhaps eventually you’ll grow to enjoy wearing them.”

“Perhaps,” she replied dubiously.

“Have a good night then,” said Nathan. “Sleep well!” He waved as he stepped backwards away from her, then he turned and walked away.

“You too,” Emily called after him. Then she opened the front door and walked into the house. As she closed the door behind her, Mary called to her from the living room: “Is that you, Emily?”

“Hi Mary, hi Jacob!” she said, entering the room.

“How was the rehearsal?” asked Mary.

“It was pretty good,” Emily admitted. “I actually think we might be okay tomorrow, but it still worries me that we’re doing an actual gig so soon after I joined the band! I don’t even remember agreeing to be in it! And now I’m supposed to perform in public! And they want me to learn to dance! I have a lesson booked for tomorrow afternoon. It’s kind of crazy!”

“Wow!” said Jacob. “You’re cramming quite a lot into your first week here, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Emily agreed. “It’s all rather exhausting!”

“I’m sure it is,” said Mary sympathetically. “Would you like something to eat or drink? Or would you rather just have an early night? I think Paul’s hoping you’ll play video games with him again, but don’t let him talk you into staying up if you want to go to bed.”

Emily smiled. “I think I’ll just head upstairs,” she said. “I’ll probably have an early night, but if Paul wants to play video games, I’m sure I can spare him a few minutes. It’s actually more fun than I would have expected.”

“Well it’s very nice that you’re getting along well with him,” said Mary.

“Yes!” agreed Jacob. “He doesn’t have a lot of friends, so I’m grateful you’re spending time with him. He’s a good kid, but he’s a little awkward, socially.”

Emily smiled, and nodded. “It’s my pleasure,” she said. “I enjoy his company. Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Emily!” Jacob and Mary replied together. Once Emily had left the room, they looked at each other, and smiled.

Upstairs, Emily decided to forgo her usual shower, since she had taken one after her massage. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and used the toilet, then she went to Paul’s room and knocked on the door. “Come in!” he said.

She entered, and found him working on his laptop. “Emily!” he said happily. “You wanna play Fists of Fire with me? Or ... are you bored of that one? I have lots of other games, if you fancy a change.”

“Sure, I’ll play with you for a bit,” said Emily, “although I’d like to have a fairly early night.”

“Okay!” said Paul. “Well I just need to finish something up here before the website times out on me. It’ll just take a couple of minutes. Why don’t you get ready for bed in the meantime?”

“I’m pretty much ready for bed already,” said Emily.

“You’re still in your regular clothes,” Paul observed. “Why don’t you put on your sleepwear?”

Emily pursed her lips. “Paul, I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to hang out with you in a top and panties. I know that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Awww please!” Paul begged. “Why not? I’m just wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts; it’s no big deal. Plus I already saw you in that outfit, remember?”

“I remember,” said Emily, with a little shudder. “But I don’t think we should make a habit of that!”

“Why not?” said Paul insistently. “The more you hang out with me in your panties, the sooner the novelty will wear off, I’m sure. And Mom and Dad won’t mind; I walk around like this all the time in the evening, even downstairs, and they don’t say anything. Even Mom’s been known to go downstairs in a similar outfit, late at night. It’s just not as big a deal as you’re imagining.”

Emily sighed. She knew that Nathan would probably approve of Paul’s idea. She did not really want to encourage the boy ... but she supposed it was possible he might be right about the novelty wearing off. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll go and change.”

“Awesome,” said Paul, grinning.

Emily returned to her room, took off her top and bra, and put on a clean tank top. Then she took off everything from her bottom half, and put on a clean pair of white panties. She shivered. It did not feel right, going to Paul’s room dressed like this. And yet she had told him she would.

With an uneasy feeling gnawing at her stomach, she left her room and went back to Paul’s. He laughed happily when she entered. “There you go!” he said. “No big deal. But I gotta say Emily, you do look very pretty and super hot in that outfit.”

“Thanks,” said Emily, blushing. “Can we just play a game?”

“Sure!” said Paul. “How about we try a racing game? I love this one, Vintage Racers – it’s crazy. You’re basically driving vintage cars that have been souped up with modern tech like turbocharged engines and rockets and stuff.”

“Okay, I’m happy to give it a try,” said Emily.

After ten minutes of playing this game, once again Emily was forced to admit that she was having a ton of fun. The racing environments were very pretty to look at and drive through, and the cars were incredibly fun to handle, once she got used to the controls. Before long, she had stopped fretting about the fact that she was sitting next to Paul in a highly indecent outfit, and was simply enjoying herself.

Half an hour sped by. Then, at the end of a race which Emily had narrowly won, Paul said, “Okay, well done. But I shouldn’t keep you up any later when you said you wanted an early night. Thank you for spending time with me again, Emily.”

Emily smiled. “I had fun!” she said. “It’s been a pleasure.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “Goodnight kiss?” he said.

“Sure,” said Emily. “But no tongues!”

Paul pouted. “I know you said last night was just a one-time thing,” he said, “but I was really really hoping you might change your mind. It was so wonderful for me ... but you said I wasn’t very good, so I was hoping you might show me how to do it better.”

Emily sighed. She might have known he would try to talk her into another French kiss. He was unlikely to let it go if she just refused. And Nathan, it seemed, would not mind a bit if she indulged Paul again. “All right,” she grumbled, “we can do tongues again – on one condition!”

“What’s that?” asked Paul eagerly.

“Don’t grab my butt!” said Emily firmly. If she was going to let him stick his tongue in her mouth, at least she could establish a ground rule to avoid a repetition of last night’s boundary-pushing.

Paul looked disheartened. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that,” he said. “Grabbing your butt was awesome; your butt felt so ... so warm, and soft, yet firm ... it was like ... magic almost...”

Emily rolled her eyes, exasperated ... yet she was also a little flattered, in an amused sort of way. “I’m glad you think I have a magical butt,” she said, “but what would my fiancé think if I told him about you fondling it?”

“I dunno,” said Paul glumly. “Kill me, I guess. But I wouldn’t care. It would’ve been worth it.”

“Goodness!” said Emily. She knew of course that Nathan would probably not actually mind hearing that Paul had groped her bottom again ... but Paul did not know that. “All right,” she said. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but since it means so much to you, I guess you can have a quick grab while we kiss. Now let’s get on with it before I change my mind.”

“Okay!” said Paul. “Can we stand up? No wait – can we lie down next to each other?”

“We can stand up,” said Emily firmly. If she lay down next to him, he would probably then try to lie on top of her ... and that did not bear thinking about. She stood up, and turned to face Paul, who did the same. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

“Not too quickly, I hope!” said Paul, and he leaned in to kiss her.

“Remember, gently,” said Emily. “Not too much mmmph...” She was cut off by Paul’s tongue entering her mouth.

His hands were on her buttocks almost immediately, squeezing and caressing them through her panties as his tongue slowly entwined with hers. This was better: definitely less aggressive than last night. But his hands were naughtier, pulling the material up between her buttocks, fingers slipping beneath the seams, grasping, kneading her bare flesh, circling, dipping ever further inward...

“Okay, enough!” she gasped, pulling away from him.

“Was that better?” he asked hopefully.

“It was,” she conceded, her cheeks quite flushed, “but it was a little hard to concentrate on the kiss when your hands were being so gropey!”

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist that beautiful butt of yours,” he replied with a grin. “But if it’ll get me a longer kiss, I’ll promise not to touch your butt next time.”

“If you can leave my butt alone,” said Emily, “then yes, you can have a longer kiss. Tomorrow!”

Paul smiled. “Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, Emily.”

“Goodnight Paul,” said Emily.

She left his room, just as Jacob was coming out of the bathroom. He looked her up and down in surprise, then he glanced at Paul’s door. “Everything all right, Emily?”

She was suddenly wracked with fear and guilt. “Is this an inappropriate outfit to be wearing in front of Paul?” she asked anxiously, clasping her hands over her panties. “I thought it might be ... but Paul persuaded me that it would be okay, given that he wears a similar outfit in the evening. But now I feel like maybe I shouldn’t have listened...”

Jacob held up his hands to stem the flow. “Relax, Emily,” he said. “I’m just surprised to see you dressed like this, given how modestly you’ve been accustomed to dressing in the past. I myself don’t have an issue with it, unless you’re toying with Paul’s emotions ... which I doubt you are...”

“Good heavens, no!” said Emily, shocked.

“And what would Nathan say about it?” Jacob inquired.

“He wouldn’t mind,” said Emily guardedly. “He’s not really the jealous type.”

“In that case,” said Jacob, “I don’t mind you dressing like this around the house if you’re comfortable doing so. In this heat, I’m sure we’d all like to strip down to our underwear ... although I’m sure nobody would want to see my old fat body so uncovered! I’ll spare you that view.”

“Um,” said Emily, not sure how to respond to this.

“Well, goodnight Emily,” said Jacob. “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight Jacob,” said Emily, and she hurried across the landing to her room.

Jacob went down the stairs, and back into the living room, where Mary was beginning to nod off in front of the television. She perked up as he sat down next to her, and reached for a glass of water on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“I think there might be something going on between Paul and Emily,” said Jacob.

“Oh, surely not,” said Mary.

“I know, it seems unlikely,” said Jacob. “But I just caught her coming out of his room, dressed if you please in a little sleeveless top and a pair of panties, with cheeks the colour of a spanked behind.”

Mary stared at him. “But she’s engaged!”

“True,” agreed Jacob. “Which means she isn’t yet married. And engagements have been known to fall through. And this Nathan ... he’s a bit useless, isn’t he? Six weeks in the city and no job yet? How hard is he really trying?”

“Do you honestly think Paul has a chance with her?” asked Mary incredulously. “I mean, I love Paul to death – he’s my baby – but objectively, he’s not exactly...”

“I know,” Jacob acknowledged. “And she’s quite a beauty, at least in a girl-next-door kind of way. And with a figure...”

“Yes, her figure!” said Mary enviously. “What I wouldn’t give to be shaped like that!” She sighed. “Do you really think Paul has a chance with her? He’s three years her junior!”

“I don’t know,” said Jacob. “But if there’s even a remote possibility, I think we should encourage it. He’s never even brought a girl around before. I feared for a while that he might be ... you know ... one of those. But then you found that magazine...”

Mary nodded. “Yes, he’s definitely normal. He’s just never had any luck with the girls, bless his poor little spotted face. Oh, it’d be lovely for him if he and Emily could get together ... even for a short-term relationship. What a wonderful boost to his confidence it would be!”

Jacob nodded. “Emily says he persuaded her that it would be okay for her to hang out with him in a top and panties, since he often goes around the house in just a t-shirt and underwear. Which he does, admittedly.”

“Yes, but there wasn’t a young woman in the house before!” said Mary. “It wouldn’t be appropriate now.”

“That’s as may be, but let’s not give him a hard time about it,” said Jacob. “I didn’t want to contradict Paul and make Emily upset with him, so I told her it‘s fine if she wants to go around the house in a top and panties.”

“Oh!” said Mary, surprised. “Well, okay... I see your point. I suppose I’ll do my best to reinforce that message too. Yes, let’s encourage whatever’s developing between them.”

Upstairs, Emily said her prayers, climbed into bed, and turned her light off. She could not help thinking about her lovely massage today, and how Alex had brought her to an amazing orgasm. What would Nathan say if he knew? Given his reaction to other transgressions, like her French kiss with Paul, and Alex’s massaging of her breasts, he might actually not be too upset by it. Or he might. Perhaps it was a step over the line. But she could not tell him about it; she had promised Alex.

She did feel guilty ... but thinking about it was getting her aroused again. Slipping her hand into her panties, she masturbated quietly but energetically, until she shuddered in her second orgasm of the day. It was not nearly as good as the first.

DAY 4 – FRIDAY

Her bowels felt very full when she woke up, and she smiled. Almost time for another panty-pooping adventure. Climbing out of bed, she took off her top, put on a bra, then regarded her selection of outfits. “Your turn, I think,” she said, taking her blue dress off its hanger. She put it on, and looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was a little shorter on her than yesterday’s pink skirt, but not quite as short as her first barista skirt. It was a measure of how far she had come that she decided she rather liked how she looked in it. Sure, she was showing quite a bit of thigh, but that seemed to be no big deal here.

Then she turned around, and looked back over her shoulder. What she saw gave her pause. The back of the dress was quite open, with crisscrossed strings of material linking the left side with the right. The two sides met a little lower than halfway down her back, but this was below the level of her bra, the back of which was highly visible.

Disconcerted, she looked at the front again. There was no extra support for her chest. Was she supposed to wear this dress with a bra, or without? She knew what Nathan would say, of course. Was this perhaps a good time to sound Mary out on the subject of going braless...?

She unclasped her bra, and extracted it via both armholes. Tossing it on her bed, she turned back to the mirror. It was fairly obvious she was not wearing a bra ... but how much would that matter to Jacob and Mary...?

She re-braided her hair, went to the bathroom, then headed downstairs. Fortunately, the pastor’s wife was alone in the kitchen. “Um, Mary?” she said.

“Good morning dear,” said Mary, turning around with a big smile. “Oh, don’t you look lovely! What a pretty dress!”

Emily smiled shyly. “Actually I was hoping to ask your advice on it...”

“Oh?” asked Mary.

Emily turned around. “Um, it’s quite open at the back,” she said. “So I thought maybe it should be worn without a bra. But I don’t know ... what do you think?” She turned back, feeling self-conscious. “Does it look ... bad? I’d hate to look silly, or offend anyone.”

“Not at all, you look gorgeous!” Mary assured her. “What I wouldn’t give for a chest like yours! It holds itself up very well, doesn’t it?”

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said. “I think my parents would be horrified if I left the house without a bra on. Or even if I left my room like that!”

“Oh, well, that’s Oakwood for you,” said Mary dismissively. “But you don’t need to worry about Jacob and me. We’re a little more ... modern, shall we say. If you feel comfortable going braless, you go right ahead! You’re a grown woman and I’m sure you can make your own decisions about that sort of thing.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. “You’ve been very kind, and helpful. I appreciate your advice.”

“You’re most welcome, dear,” said Mary. “Now have a seat. Oh! I got you some cereal; I hope it’s all right. They were out of Bran Flakes so I got you this...” She picked up a cereal box and looked at the front. “Branagram. That’s a pretty awful pun, isn’t it?”

Emily laughed as she sat down. “Yes,” she said. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thank you!” She poured herself a bowlful, and began to eat. It was not particularly tasty, but it was palatable enough; she was not eating fibre for its taste.

Paul came slouching into the room. “Morning,” he said.

“Good morning Paul,” Emily replied.

“Doesn’t Emily look nice today, Paul?” said Mary.

Paul looked Emily up and down, and smiled. “Yeah, but she always does,” he said.

Mary laughed. “Very true!”

Emily blushed. “You’re both too kind.”

After breakfast, Emily was very keen to do a nice big poo in her panties after Paul and Jacob had left the house, but to her disappointment, Mary did not seem to have any plans to go anywhere. She busied herself with some tidying, and then – to Emily’s horror – she got out the vacuum cleaner.

Giving up on her plan to fill her panties while home alone, Emily entered the living room and said, “Why don’t you let me do the vacuuming, Mary? I’d like to help out in any way I can.”

“Thank you dear, but that’s not necessary,” said Mary cheerfully. “I only need to vacuum up this soil I spilled when I knocked over the yucca. Won’t take me a moment. Monday’s my usual day for vacuuming the whole house.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

“I can’t think of anything,” said Mary. “I’m planning to go and have coffee with my friend Angela in a few minutes; I’d invite you to come along too, but I know you’ll be leaving for work well before I get back.”

Emily nodded, her heart soaring. “Okay, well, I’ll just go up to my room, then. Have fun with Angela!”

“Thank you!” said Mary. “Have a good day at work. And oh! I forgot! Your gig’s tonight! I’m sure we won’t see you until late. I’m so sorry we can’t be there to support you, but we couldn’t just cancel the prayer meeting...”

“That’s totally fine,” said Emily fervently. “I’m sure it’s not your kind of music. It’s not even mine! But they needed a backing singer, and I can sing, so...” She shrugged. “I’m just doing it for Nathan.”

Mary nodded. “Well, good luck! I’ll pray that it goes well for you.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully.

Emily went upstairs to her bedroom, and almost immediately heard the sound of the vacuum cleaner. Barely a minute later, it stopped again. Shortly after that, Emily heard the front door close.

Her heart pounding, she crept to the top of the stairs. “Mary...?”

No response. Quickly, Emily trotted into the bathroom, turning on the fan as she went in. For a moment she debated whether or not to hike up her dress or remove it entirely ... then she decided it would be most exciting to remove it. Especially since she was not wearing a bra! Pulling it up over her head, she went into her room and draped it over her chair. Then she went back into the bathroom in just her panties and shoes. She needed to pee again, so she pulled her panties down, sat down, and emptied her bladder. Wiping herself dry, she stood up, pulled her panties up, sat down, and pushed...

The poo that emerged took a satisfyingly long time to come out. She giggled. “Oh, you naughty girl, Emily, that was such a lot of poop!” she exclaimed in a low, shocked voice. “What on Earth are you going to do now?”

What indeed? She got to her feet, and walked across the room. Wandering around the house like this was fun, but she needed to be quick about it. First, though, she wanted to inspect the damage. Walking into her room, she turned around and looked curiously at the back of her panties.

The bulge was gratifyingly large and lumpy. “Ooh, Emily, you’ve outdone yourself!” she said reproachfully. “What a mess you’ve made!” But in truth there was not really much mess, since the poo seemed to be quite dry. Only in a few small spots were her panties stained brown; everywhere else, they still looked white, except that her dark poo showed faintly through the stretched material.

She trotted downstairs, her poo bouncing delightfully against her buttocks. Heading into the kitchen, she said, “The kitchen? Gross! There’s food in here!”

Then her eyes widened as she looked through the window at the back yard. She was wearing shoes; why not? The yard was enclosed, nobody would see her, and the smell would diffuse harmlessly into the atmosphere instead of building up inside the house. It was super naughty, but only a little bit risky; in other words, it was perfect. But she still ought to be quick about it, in case Jacob or Mary returned unexpectedly.

With an excited giggle, she flung open the back door and dashed out into the yard, only stopping when she reached the larger apple tree. Behind her, the door swung shut. She took a deep breath of fresh air, then giggled again. She could hardly believe she was outside, naked but for her shoes and her poo-filled panties! It was such a thrill!

“Is that you, Emily?”

Emily froze. The voice was Harry’s. How stupid of her not to consider that he might be outdoors too! For a moment she wondered if he might be able to smell her poo, but then she decided it was unlikely. There was a slight breeze, and Harry was upwind of her. “Hello, Harry!” she said, as cheerfully as she could, given her nervousness. “I just came out for a breath of fresh air.”

“Ah yes, same here,“ said Harry. “I’m just sitting here with my coffee, watching the clouds go by. You learn to appreciate the little things in life when you’re my age.”

Emily smiled. “Well, I only stepped out for a moment; I’ll have to go to work pretty soon. Have a nice day, Harry.”

“You too!” said Harry.

Emily, feeling very naughty indeed for having had a conversation with the Davises’ next-door neighbour while topless and wearing full and messy panties, walked over to the back door, and tried the handle. Then she shook it, pulling and pushing. Blood rushed to her head as a horrible realisation crashed over her. The door was locked! It had locked itself after swinging shut behind her!

What a state she was in to be caught outdoors. “Oh my God oh my God!” she whispered. She tried the door again, fruitlessly. What on Earth was she going to do?

A window! Perhaps she could find an open one. But after trying every window on the lower floor – at least on this side – she gave up in despair. Looking up, she noticed that one of the upstairs windows was open, but there was no easy way of reaching it. With a little whimper, she cleared her throat. “Um, Harry?” she said.

“Yes, Emily?”

“I think you mentioned that you have a ladder, yes...?” she asked nervously.

“I do!” said Harry. “Why, what’s up?”

“I ...I’m afraid I’ve been a bit silly and locked myself out,” she confessed. “I can see an open window upstairs. It has a screen in it, but I think I can probably get in that way.”

“Oh!” said Harry. “Well, no problem, I’ll bring it round.”

“No!” said Emily urgently. “I mean ... can you like ... pass it over the fence or something? I’m ... I’m not dressed...”

Harry chuckled. “Oh Emily, after yesterday I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so shy! I’ve seen you in your undies, after all. And I’m not sure I can lift it over the fence. It’ll be safer if I bring it round.”

“Okay,” Emily groaned, now bitterly regretting her foolishness in coming outside like this. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

It was at least five minutes before Harry appeared at the gate between the two houses, and by this time, Emily had a plan. Hiding behind the apple tree, she said, “Hi Harry! Could you please bring the ladder into the yard, and then leave it there? I really don’t want you to see me like this...”

Harry shuffled into the back yard, puffing and blowing a little as he hefted a long metal ladder with him. Setting it down, he stood up straight, then looked over at Emily’s face, peeping out from behind the tree. “Are you naked back there?” he asked, sounding amused. “Well well, you keep yourself hidden if you like. I’ll set the ladder up and see if I can get that screen off for you.”

“Oh – thank you!” said Emily. The less time she had to spend at the top of the ladder, above the level of the fence and therefore in full view of other houses, the better.

Harry wrestled with the ladder, and eventually managed to get it into position. But as he began to climb it, it tipped suddenly to the left as one of its feet sank into the soft ground next to the patio. The other side pivoted away from the wall, causing Harry to clutch one of the rungs for dear life.

“Oh no! Harry!” Emily squealed.

But Harry did not fall. Clinging to the ladder and leaning back the other way, he succeeded in stabilising it well enough for him to safely descend to the ground again. “I’m afraid you’ll need to hold it steady at the bottom,” he said, with astonishing composure. “I’m a little worried about it tipping to one side.”

“Yes, me too!” said Emily. “Oh Harry, I’d never forgive myself if you fell off the ladder while helping me!” She clenched her teeth, coming to a mortifying decision. “I ... I’m going to come out. Please don’t tell the Davises about this, but I ... I kind of had a bit of an accident.”

“Oh no!” said Harry. “Poor thing, you’re having a rough day, aren’t you? Are you hurt?

“I’m fine,” she hastily assured him. “It wasn’t that kind of accident. I ... uh ... kind of ... pooped myself.” Plucking up her courage in both hands, she emerged from behind the tree, her arms folded across her breasts.

Harry stared at her in astonishment. “Just in the time it took me to bring my ladder round? If you needed to go that badly, why did you come outside? And in just your panties and shoes?”

“No no, it was before I came out,” said Emily hastily. Then, improvising on the fly, she added, “That’s actually why I came out; I didn’t want to stink up the house.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “Why on Earth would you, having had an accident in your panties, choose to come outside and chat with me instead of running straight to the bathroom to clean up?”

Emily tried to think of an answer, but as her jaw opened and closed silently, a fog of blind panic began to descend on her mind. She felt trapped. She wanted to cry.

Harry chuckled. “Your secret is safe with me, Emily,” he said. “We all have our little quirks. Yours isn’t perhaps as unusual as you might think. Bu we don’t need to dwell on it. Let’s get you safely inside.”

He was being so kind! Emily lost it; she burst into tears. Putting her face in her hands, with her arms still covering her breasts, she wailed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Harry ambled over, and put his arms around her. “There there,” he said gently. “There’s no need to beat yourself up about it. So you like pooping in your panties – so what? I’m not judging! You don’t need to apologise to me or to anyone for that.”

He was so kind, so much like her grandfather, that she instinctively put her arms around him and clung to him, with her face buried in his shoulder. “I just feel so st...stupid!” she sobbed. “Coming out here in this state ... and then locking myself out! You must think I’m so dis...disgusting!”

“Of course I don’t!” he retorted. “Your poop is disgusting, sure, and I suspect that’s the appeal, for you. But that doesn’t make YOU disgusting, Emily. It just makes you ... I dunno ... more interesting. It adds another dimension to your personality, one which I would never in a million years have guessed at. And that’s kinda cool. But come on, let’s get you inside so you can take care of yourself. If you can just hold the ladder steady, I’ll head up there and get that screen off.”

Emily nodded. “Okay,” she said, calming down a little. “Thank you, Harry. Thank you for being so kind.”

“You’re welcome, though it’s no great hardship,” he said with a chuckle. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she said.

Harry went back to the ladder, adjusted its position, and began to climb up. Emily followed after him, then firmly gripped both sides of the ladder, holding it in place. This of course meant that she could not keep her breasts covered, but at least Harry had his back to her.

Halfway up, however, he cocked his left elbow and peered back down the ladder, past his hip. “You got it steady?” he asked. Then his eyes widened. “Oh my.”

“If you could try to avoid looking back at me, I’d appreciate it!” said Emily plaintively. Just how many men were going to see her naked breasts this week?

“Sorry!” said Harry. “I wasn’t thinking.” He continued up the ladder, until he was level with the window. In next to no time, he had removed the screen. “Easy peasy,” he said. “Coming back down now.” Clutching the screen in one hand, he carefully descended the ladder. As he reached its foot, Emily stepped back, covering her breasts with her hands.

“Your turn,” said Harry. “I’ll hold it steady while you go up.”

Emily bit her lip. “Okay,” she said, looking up at the window nervously. She was not quite sure how she was going to get in, once she was at window level. Head-first? One foot first? Which was safer? Maybe not would become apparent when she reached the window...

Preoccupied with these thoughts, she ascended slowly, until she heard a gasp from below her.

“That’s a lot of poop!” Harry remarked.

Mortified, Emily continued climbing the ladder. She did not have the heart to be upset with the old man for looking at her panties; he had been such a sweetheart, so kind and helpful. If he wanted to look at her panties, perhaps he had earned it. But that did not make it any less embarrassing.

When she reached the window, she leaned over and grabbed the sill with both hands. Perhaps head-first would be best.

“Not like that,” said Harry. “Too risky! If your feet slip now, you’ll fall. Climb higher, and get a foot in the window while you’re still holding on with both hands.”

“Okay,” said Emily. Maybe it was a good thing Harry was watching her after all.

She climbed up two more rungs, then extended her left foot, posting it through the open window. As she settled her weight down on that thigh, she let go of the ladder with one hand, and tucked it inside the house, holding on to the wall. As she pulled herself inward, she ducked her head inside, then, as her centre of gravity moved inside the house, she let go with her other hand, and braced it against the wall on the other side of the window. Finally, she pulled her right leg in, and dropped down on to the bathroom floor, all without putting any weight on her bulging panties. She heaved a sigh of relief, then stuck her head back out. “I’m in!” she said. “Thanks so much, Harry!”

“My pleasure!” he said. “You helped me yesterday; I’m glad I could return the favour today.”

Emily chuckled. She felt much better now that she was safely inside. “And both days I was in my underwear!” she said ruefully. “I hope this doesn’t become a pattern!”

“I wouldn’t complain if it did,” replied Harry cheekily. “Your panties have made me very happy, two days in a row!”

Emily blushed. She knew Harry was being naughty, but in view of his kindness, she was inclined to be amused rather than annoyed by his banter. “Even today, when they’re ... messy?” she inquired.

“Oh, absolutely,” he said, grinning. “It’s quite sexy, in a weird way.”

The conversation was devolving rapidly, and Emily felt suddenly rather dirty and uncomfortable. “Well okay then,” she said, her smile fading, “thanks again – I hope you have a nice day.” She pulled her head back inside, shivering slightly despite the warm weather.

It was time to clean up. Pulling down her panties, she tipped her poo (‘Harry was right, it’s a lot!’ she reflected) into the toilet bowl, then she pursed her lips. It was even bigger than Wednesday’s; it would probably block the outflow pipe again. Screwing her face up, she knelt down and reached into the bowl, grabbing the lump of poo and squishing it slowly as her fingers closed around it. It was a weird, gross sensation ... but she had long since got over being overly squeamish about her poo.

She flushed, and after a worrying few seconds when the water level climbed higher and higher, her poo and the churning water behind it surged around the bend and out of sight. She washed her messy hand thoroughly, as well as her messy panties. Then she turned toward the window ... and there was Harry, staring at her in shock with the screen in his hand. She shrieked in alarm, frantically and belatedly covering her naked breasts and pussy.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, hurriedly averting his eyes. “I wasn’t spying on you, Emily, I swear it! I just came up the ladder to replace the screen. I heard the flush a few minutes ago and thought you had probably left the room.”

Emily, mortified beyond measure, had been about to yell at him, but his heartfelt apology disarmed her, and she simply sighed. “Never mind, Harry,” she said. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to peep at me. I seem doomed to be embarrassingly exposed this week. And today it was totally my fault. I’m just grateful you were willing and able to help me. Go ahead and fix the screen; I’m done in here anyway.” She hurried out of the room, naked and clutching her wet panties in one hand.

It was almost time for her to leave. She spread out her panties to dry, put on a clean pair, then put her blue dress back on. She was about to leave, when she suddenly remembered her denim skirt. “Oh!” she gasped. It would not do to forget that, even though she was not looking forward to wearing it! Running back upstairs, she fetched the skirt and put it in her bag with her work uniform.

As she left the house, Harry was just returning to his own house with his ladder. “Bye Emily!” he said. “Have a good day.”

“Thanks Harry – you too!” she replied, blushing and feeling awkward.

She walked to the coffee shop, said hello to Trish, and made for Marv’s office. He was not there, so she closed the door, set her bag down, and took off her dress. Worried Marv might enter at any moment, she quickly put on her blouse, doing up only the three buttons that had remained fastened at the end of yesterday’s shift. She was a little disconcerted to see that the blouse had become rather wrinkly, and she admonished herself for forgetting to iron it this morning. Ideally she should be keeping it on a hanger, of course, but she did not relish the thought of carrying around a blouse on a hanger as well as her bag.

The door opened, and Marv entered. “Ah, good morning Emily,” he said, his eyes dropping to her exposed cleavage.

“Good morning Marv,” she replied. “Sorry my blouse is a bit wrinkly; I forgot to iron it this morning.”

Marv shrugged. “Well as it happens we do have an iron and an ironing board,” he said. “And it looks like you have a couple minutes before your shift starts. Want me to fetch them for you?”

“Oh!” said Emily, taken aback. “Um, only if you think it’s necessary...”

“Might as well have you looking your best for the customers!” said Marv cheerfully. He left the room, and returned a minute later with an ironing board tucked under one arm and an iron in the other hand. He handed Emily the iron, then unfolded the ironing board and set it down not far from his desk. “There!” he said. He walked over to his desk, and sat down.

“Where should I plug this in?” asked Emily, looking around for a socket.

“Oh,” said Marvin. “There’s a power strip under my desk; it should have a spare socket.”

“Okay,” said Emily. She set the iron down on the ironing board, then took the plug and squatted down next to the end of Marv’s desk. But as she peered behind the desk, she realised it was too far for her to reach. “Um, I can’t reach it; I think I’ll have to go under your desk from the front.”

“Oh okay,” said Marvin, scooting his chair backwards.

It occurred to Emily, as she crawled beneath Marv’s desk on her hands and knees, that he could probably see her bottom and panties from where he was sitting, and she hoped he was enough of a gentleman not to look. A couple of days ago she would probably have panicked so much at the thought of him seeing up her skirt that she would not even have gone under the desk without making sure he was not looking ... but a certain weariness seemed to have come over her – a sense of the inevitability of her exposure – and this, coupled with the knowledge that Marv had had a similar view yesterday (and even taken a photo), was making her feel somewhat numb to the embarrassment of it.

The power strip was full. “There are no open sockets, Marv!” she reported.

“Oh! Sorry,” said Marv. “You can unplug my desk light if you like, or my speakers. Try not to unplug the router.”

“Which one goes to the router?” asked Emily, looking at the jumble of wires.

“Hmm,” said Marv, now holding his phone about two feet behind her bottom and taking a sixth photo. “I don’t recall. Maybe the second or third plug?” He was not proud of himself for this, but it was too good an opportunity to miss.

“So the right hand plug should be safe?” asked Emily.

“Should be,” Marv agreed.

Emily unplugged it, and Marv noticed the light on one of his speakers go out. “Yup, that was the speakers,” he said. “That’s fine.”

Emily plugged the iron in, then backed out from under the desk. By this time Marv had put his phone away and was facing the door. Relieved, Emily stood up, and went over to the ironing board. Then she hesitated. “Marv...”

“Oh right,” said Marv, turning around and rolling his chair back to his desk. “I’ll just keep facing this way, and you can iron your blouse behind me. Don’t worry, I won’t turn around!”

“Well I should probably put on my dress while I iron,” said Emily uncomfortably.

“No need for that – it won’t take you long, surely?” said Marv.

This was true enough; Emily had had plenty of ironing experience and would be able to iron a single blouse in no time. With a sigh, she unbuttoned it, took it off, and laid it out on the ironing board. Picking up the iron, she set to work, feeling very strange that she was doing this topless in her boss’s office. Once again, she was semi-naked in the company of a man who was not Nathan; how did this keep happening to her?

“Slightly surreal, isn’t it?” said Marv, as if reading her thoughts.

“It is!” Emily agreed, glad he thought so too. “I don’t know why this keeps happening to me! Earlier this morning ... oh, I won’t go into details, but I found myself topless in front of our next-door neighbour!”

“Good grief!” said Marv. “You must have made his day!”

“Maybe,” said Emily, embarrassed. “I don’t know why men like the view so much, though.”

“The view of your breasts?” asked Marv. “Are you kidding? They’re amazing! I mean, I only saw them briefly, but that image is kinda burned on to my retinas. You ... you have very beautiful breasts, Emily.”

Emily was mortified, but also flattered. “But what’s so great about them? I just don’t see it. They’re ... just so ... big and blobby! I keep getting compliments on them, but I don’t feel like I’ve earned them. They just ... grew on me! I don’t understand.”

“Would you like to understand?” asked Marv. “Because I’d be happy to explain it.”

Emily lifted the iron off her blouse, and stood it up at the end of the ironing board. This was a rather uncomfortable topic of conversation, but she could not help being curious about Marv’s offer. “You ... can explain men’s fascination with ... breasts?” she asked him.

“Sure!” said Marv. “Would you like me to?”

“Yes please,” said Emily. “Maybe it’ll help me feel less self-conscious about them. Since they got so big, I’ve been kind of ... ashamed of them, to be honest.”

“Well that’s not good!” said Marv. “I’ll tell you ... in fact it would be easier to show you ... why men love breasts in general, and yours in particular. May I turn around please?”

Emily’s eyes widened. Only a moment ago he had assured her he would not turn around ... and now he was asking to? But if he could help her understand... With a nervous gulp, she covered her breasts with her hands. “O...okay,” she said hesitantly.

Marv swung his chair around, and stood up. Coming over to stand facing her, with the ironing board between them, he said, “First things first: drop those arms to your sides. I’d like you to be proud of your breasts, not just not ashamed of them ... and the first step in that direction is to act like you’re proud of them. So stand up straight, put your shoulders back, take a deep breath, and let them stand out proudly. And then I’ll tell you why your breasts are beautiful.”

Emily still hesitated, but as Marv took hold of her wrists, she reluctantly allowed him to pull them down to her sides. Blood roared in her ears. Was she really allowing her boss to stare at her naked breasts? Why? How had things come to this?

“There you go,” said Marv, smiling with satisfaction at her nipples. “So here’s the explanation for why men love breasts in general. And it has nothing to do with some throwback to breastfeeding, or women would love looking at them just as much as men. Quite simply, we’ve been raised to appreciate them. It’s entirely cultural! In places where women are topless all the time, like parts of Africa and South America – less common these days of course – breasts aren’t considered sexual objects at all. But in the West, they’ve become fetishised, sexualised, taboo, and therefore fascinating. That fascination is employed in advertising, of course, and this just reinforces the appeal. And because they know men like breasts, in order to attract them, women wear clothing that show off their shape, and they bare their cleavages, and so on, and men lap it all up. It’s cultural conditioning, and it’s self-perpetuating.”

“I ... I see,” said Emily, feeling somewhat educated but still unsure why she needed to be so exposed for this speech.

“Now,” said Marv, “regarding yours in particular. This too is partly cultural. In some parts of the world, small breasts are considered attractive. In other parts, pointy breasts are appreciated. In others, men like saggy, droopy breasts, though personally I find that a little hard to understand. In our culture, men tend to appreciate large, round, full, heavy breasts. Not generally so large that they become saggy, but large enough that they stand out as a very prominent feature of the anatomy. And yours, Emily, hit that sweet spot in the most perfect way.” He reached across the ironing board, and cupped his hands beneath them, making her gasp and step away.

“Sorry,” said Marv, “I should have asked. But may I demonstrate something – please?”

Emily bit her lip, and reluctantly stepped forward again. “Now,” said Marv, cupping her breasts again, “size-wise, as I said, they strike that perfect balance. But many breasts this size don’t hold up as well as yours ... and while you probably can’t take much credit for that (it’s likely genetics), you might as well own it. You’re blessed with strong ligaments or something – whatever it is that causes breasts to stay up and not sag – and you should be proud of that. But there’s more.”

“There is?” asked Emily, wide-eyed.

“Symmetry!” said Marv. “And this is the part that has nothing to do with culture. You ask someone to sketch a pair of breasts, and they’ll likely draw them perfectly round, with perfectly round nipples in the exact centre. But breasts generally don’t look like that. They’re usually not perfectly symmetrical; one might be very slightly larger than the other, one might sit a little higher, or they might point in slightly different directions. And because of the way they sit on the chest, the nipple usually isn’t exactly central and doesn’t point exactly forward. That’s why your breasts, Emily, are so remarkable.” He traced around the outsides of her breasts with his index fingers, bringing them together and up the insides. “They’re incredibly round, and they’re pretty much perfect mirror images of each other. They don’t have blemishes or even freckles – surprising enough given you have some on your face. And your nipples!” He took them between the index finger and thumb of each hand. “They’re also perfectly round, and pretty, and they point exactly forward.” He now splayed his fingers and grasped both breasts fully, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Men have in their heads this idealized version of a pair of breasts. When they assess a woman’s breasts for quality, it’s the imperfections they notice. The asymmetries, the blemishes, the odd little idiosyncrasies. If a man grades a woman’s chest as a seven out of ten, it isn’t because he’s added up seven good things about them. It’s because he’s noticed things he doesn’t like, and deducted three points from the default of ten. But your breasts, Emily...” Marv sighed as he began to gently knead them, lightly rubbing her nipples with his thumbs, “are without flaw. They’re beautiful, and perfect.” He dropped his hands, and stepped back. “Your fiancé is a very lucky guy.”

Emily’s cheeks were burning. She was feeling quite overwhelmed by Marv’s lavish but insightful praise, and the sensation of his hands fondling her breasts had reminded her pleasantly of yesterday’s massage. She was not convinced that he had needed to touch her breasts in quite such a familiar way in order to make his point, but she felt that overall he meant well, and perhaps he genuinely believed it was a valid part of the demonstration. At any rate, she did not feel inclined to berate him. “Thank you for the explanation,” she said quietly, as she quickly put her blouse back on.

“Did it help?” asked Marv. “Do you feel any better about your breasts?”

“Yes,” said Emily, nodding. “I really think I do. I mean, it’s hard for me to be objective about them – I see them every day so I know what they look like – but perhaps now I’ll see them in a slightly different light, I guess...?”

Marv smiled. “And hopefully you’ll feel less ashamed of them. At the very least, you can’t help the way your breasts are constructed, so why feel any shame over them? That would apply even if they weren’t pleasant to look at. But your breasts are beautiful! So you should feel nothing but pride in them.”

Emily smiled. “I’ll try.” Then she glanced at his clock. “Oh! I’m late!”

“The boss needed to talk to you,” said Marv. “Don’t let Trish give you any grief over it. She can manage for a few minutes without you.”

“Okay, thanks Marv,” said Emily. She walked over to the door, and opened it.

“Uh, Emily?” said Marv.

Emily stopped and looked back at him. “Yes Marv?”

Marv was looking sheepish. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “I shouldn’t have touched your breasts in that way while I was extolling their virtues. It was self-indulgent, and inappropriate, and ... I’m sorry.”

Emily bit her lip. “I thought it was all part of the demonstration,” she said.

“Well it was,” Marv conceded, “but not a very necessary one. I got a little carried away and went too far. I hope you can forgive me.”

Her heart warmed to him. “That’s okay, Marv,” she said. “Everyone needs forgiveness sometimes. Of course I forgive you. Thank you for your apology.”

As she left his office and hurried to join Trish, her thoughts were whirling. So he HAD taken advantage of her. And she had let him! She had even ... on some level ... enjoyed it. Maybe because it reminded her of her lovely massage. Yes, that was probably it. Anyway, he had sincerely apologised, and she had forgiven him, so there was no point in holding it against him.

“About time,” Trish muttered.

“Sorry, Marv needed to talk to me,” said Emily. “Has it been busy?”

“Not so much,” said Trish with a shrug. “Oh look, here’s someone now. Your turn.”

Emily looked over at the opening door, and her jaw dropped. “Oh no, it’s Mary!” she gasped.

“Who?” said Trish.

“Pastor Jacob’s wife! I’m living at their house!”

“A pastor’s wife?” inquired Trish. “Oh, this should be good...” She chuckled.

Emily hurriedly fastened the lowest unfastened button on her blouse, then put on a big smile for Mary as she and her older friend – presumably Angela – approached the counter. “Mary, what a lovely surprise!” she said.

“Well I was just telling Angela about you, and she said we ought to pay you a visit and have our coffee here instead!” said Mary. “My, that’s a tight blouse, isn’t it?”

“The larger size was too baggy around my middle,” said Emily apologetically. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of an awkward shape for blouses of this style!” A few feet away, Trish snorted quietly. Emily ignored her. “What can I get for you?”

“Oh, just a regular coffee please; I’m a simple woman with simple needs!”

“And for you?” asked Emily, turning to Angela.

“A latte please,” said Angela.

“Anything to eat?”

“No thank you, dear.”

“Nor for me, thanks.”

Emily prepared the coffees, and then took them over to the table where Mary and Angela were sitting. As she leaned over, her button popped open. “Oh dear!” she said, quickly fixing it. “I’m so sorry! That keeps happening.”

“You must be popular,” remarked Angela wryly.

“Oh hush Angela,” said Mary. “But Emily, you have to admit that’s quite a skimpy outfit! The skirt, too. I know you mentioned you weren’t happy with it, but I guess I didn’t imagine how bad it was!”

“And braless, too,” Angela observed.

“It’s very embarrassing!” said Emily, feeling worse and worse by the second. “I didn’t ask for this outfit to be so skimpy!”

“The owner’s forcing you to wear that miniskirt?” Angela asked sceptically.

“No, but the alternative was pants ... and I just couldn’t wear pants! They’re men’s clothes!”

Angela stared at her, then burst out laughing.

Emily’s shoulder’s slumped, and she groaned. “I’ve been trying to make the best of it, but who am I fooling? I should just quit. I can’t bear the looks on your faces. I feel so ashamed!”

“Hey now, don’t you worry about what old fogeys like us think,” said Mary. “Given your background, I’m a little surprised to see you dressed like this, yes ... but goodness, I’ve seen worse! And if you’ve been making the best of it, then good for you! You’re being tested, and showing strength of character. Hold your head up high. And my word, if I had a figure like yours, I’m quite sure I wouldn’t feel too bad about showing it off a bit!”

“Absolutely,” said Angela, quickly changing her tune. “Don’t take any notice of me, Emily. I’m always grumbling about young people, for one reason or another, but you seem like a nice girl...”

“She is, she’s the absolute sweetest,” Mary confirmed.

“So just ignore me,” Angela continued. “I’m just envious of how good you look. I don’t know how you have the bravery to go braless in a blouse like that, but it’s really not my place to judge.”

Emily managed a small smile. “So you don’t think I’m being ... immodest?”

“By Oakwood’s standards, yes, of course you are,” said Mary. “But you’re not in Oakwood now, and you shouldn’t beat yourself up for not conforming to their standards. And don’t for heaven’s sake quit on our account! If you like this job, then by all means stay. Don’t quit just because someone criticizes your outfit.”

Emily nodded. “I guess I‘ve been afraid of what you would think about this outfit, Mary, so ... thank you for being supportive.” She bit her lip. “This button ... which keeps coming undone ... lately I haven’t been bothering to fasten it. I did so when you came in, because I was afraid ... but I don’t want to be deceptive. I normally look like this...” She unfastened the button, and her blouse popped open a bit, revealing more of her cleavage. “My boss said this is fine, but what do you think? Please be honest.”

“It’s certainly revealing!” said Angela. “I’m not sure I’d have ever shown so much cleavage, even in my youth ... but why should that matter to you?”

“Exactly,” said Mary. “By all means listen to our opinions, Emily, but ultimately you’re a grown woman and you can make your own decisions. Personally I think you’re showing a little much there, but I’ll certainly support your choice to do so, if you’re okay with it and your boss is okay with it.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. “Your support certainly helps, a lot. Well, I’d better get back to work. Enjoy your coffees!”

Once she had gone back to the counter, Mary said in a low voice, “Oh, I feel so bad for being negative at first! She’s such a sensitive soul.”

“That outfit, though!” said Angela. “Men will be all over her!”

“She’s engaged,” said Mary. “And she’s a good girl.”

“Hmm,” said Angela. “Seems like she might be a pushover for a man who doesn’t like to take no for an answer.”

Mary gasped. “What a thing to say! Oh I do hope nobody takes advantage of her.”

“You and me both,” said Angela.

Forty minutes later, Mary and Angela had left, but the coffee shop was starting to get busy. Then Chet arrived, and he grinned at Emily. “Got some good news for you Emily,” he said.

“Oh!” said Emily. “Can’t wait to hear it! Your usual?”

“Yes please,” he said.

When she brought it to him, he smiled at her chest. “Dressed to kill again I see,” he said.

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said

“So, I have good news,” he said. “I talked to my boss about you, and it seems he’s looking for an assistant to help him manage his calendar and correspondence, run errands for him, answer his phone, and so on. A secretary in all but name, I guess.”

“A secretary?” said Emily, her eyes lighting up.

“Well, I wouldn’t count your chickens just yet; he’s actually been interviewing for the position all week, and he has three or four candidates lined up. But I told him you were young and pretty and very likeable, and he said he’d be willing to give you a shot, based on my recommendation.”

Emily blushed. “Thank you!” she said. “When would he want me to interview?”

“Can you manage today, after you finish here?” Chet asked.

Emily’s face fell. “I can’t!” she said. “I have a commitment!”

Chet looked disappointed. “Oh,” he said. “Okay. Well, I’ll let him know.”

Emily felt like her dream job was slipping through her fingers. “Can’t I interview on Monday? Or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday!” said Chet. “But then again, he does work plenty of weekends. Okay, I’ll see what he says. I suppose this is kinda short notice for you. But I should warn you: he’s not generally a patient or forgiving man.”

“What’s his name?” Emily asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“Blake Butcher,” said Chet. “Tell you what, I’ll call him now, and see what he says.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully. “I’ll be working eleven to three tomorrow, but I’m free all Sunday and Monday.”

“Okay,” said Chet, pulling out his phone.

Emily returned to the counter, and continued serving customers. Five minutes later, Chet waved her over. “I’d better go and see what he wants,” she said to Trish.

“Another look down your blouse, I’m guessing,” said Trish with a smirk. “Or is this about that job you were after?”

“Maybe,” said Emily sheepishly.

Trish pursed her lips, but said nothing. Emily hurried over to Chet’s table.

He looked up and smiled. “It seems he’s feeling accommodating!” he said. “He’ll be in the office tomorrow morning, and he wants you there at nine o’clock. He handed her a napkin, on which he had written an address, and sketched a simple map. “It’s not far from here, as you might have guessed. Just five minutes’ walk. So even if your interview lasts for an hour and a half – which I think is very unlikely – you’ll still have a ton of time to get here before your shift starts.”

“Okay!” said Emily excitedly.

“That number is his cell,” said Chet. “Call it when you get there; he’ll need to let you in.”

“Um, how?” Emily asked nervously. “I don’t have a cellphone...”

Chet stared at her. “Well you’d better fix that!” he said. “If you get the job, Blake will want to be able to get hold of you outside of work hours.”

Emily nodded, thinking quickly. “I should be able to borrow one,” she said. “Until I get one of my own.” Hopefully she could borrow Nathan‘s, or perhaps Paul’s. How unprepared for this she was! No cellphone, no office experience ... and she was up against three or four other candidates, all of whom were probably better qualified for the job than she was. “Can you give me any advice?” she asked Chet anxiously. “I’m worried I’ll be the worst candidate!”

Chet chuckled. “Well you’ll need decent administrative and people skills,” he said, “but assuming all the candidates have that, he’ll go with whoever he likes best. And ... I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you have quite considerable physical charms, which will help your case a lot. Blake’s a typical guy; he likes eye candy. You know what I mean?”

Emily blushed, and nodded. He wanted her to show off her body. Well, she was getting quite used to doing that. But how much should she show? “Would ... would what I’m wearing now be too much...?”

“It’s what you’re wearing now that got him interested in meeting you,” said Chet, “when I described it to him. So I’d say it’s pretty ideal. If you cover up much more than you’re covering now, I imagine he’ll be a little disappointed.”

Emily nodded. It was disappointing to learn that she was getting this opportunity because of how she looked, but given her lack of qualifications, she probably ought not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She could always prove her worth in the position later, once a skimpy outfit had got her the job. If, indeed, such an outfit was enough to get her the job.

“Well, thank you for giving me this chance,” she said. “I guess the rest is up to me.”

Chet nodded. “Good luck!”

Emily found it hard to concentrate during the remainder of her shift. There was so much on her mind: her upcoming dance lesson this afternoon, the gig after this evening, Marv’s soliloquy about her breasts (while he was fondling them), Harry seeing her topless and in poo-filled panties, and of course, tomorrow’s job interview. She was therefore not really paying attention, towards the end of her shift, to how far she was bending over while wiping tables. Only when she heard chuckles and lowered voices behind her did she realise she was probably putting on a show. She quickly straightened up and turned around, just in time to see two men at a nearby table hastily reorient their phones so they were looking at their screens. Had they been taking photos of her bottom? She could not know for sure, and in any case, she was not brave enough to confront them about it.

Her shift ended, and she hurried to Marv’s office. Her dance lesson at Rosita’s studio was in half an hour, and she was not sure how long it would take her to get there. “Hi Marv,” she said. “I just need to get changed.”

He looked up from his laptop, and smiled. “Right,” he said. “I’ll just be facing this way then.” He pointed at his screen.

“Thank you,” said Emily, blushing. She had been half expecting that after this morning, he might assume that it was now okay for him to watch her get changed, and she was relieved to find that this was not the case. He was a good man, even if he had succumbed to temptation this morning. And his explanation of the appeal of her breasts had been quite enlightening. He clearly really loved how her breasts looked, and it was actually rather nice to have him rhapsodize over them. She had been thinking about this while she worked. And now she realised, to her surprise, that she had not minded him looking at them at all. In fact, she had quite enjoyed it, even when he took them in his hands...

She shuddered. What was she thinking? Only Nathan should be touching her breasts! And Alex, for massage purposes. And her doctor, no doubt, for medical reasons. The point was, nobody other than Nathan should be touching her breasts without a valid reason.

That was why she had let Marv touch her breasts earlier, of course: explaining their appeal to men had seemed like a valid reason. He had been touching them as part of his demonstration. Tracing his fingers around them to show their perfect roundness, she felt, had been fine. Sure, he had touched them a little too much after that, but she had not truly minded; it had felt kind of nice. It seemed like a minor transgression, one for which he had adequately apologised.

She removed her blouse, followed by her skirt. Dressed in her panties and shoes, she wondered how she would react if Marv swung his chair around now. Would she even cover her breasts? The man clearly loved them, and it was nice to be appreciated. As she reached into her bag, and pulled out her blue dress, the revelation struck her that she actually wanted him to turn around.

This thought scared her, and she quickly put her dress on. Then she picked up her bag. “Bye Marv,” she said. “Have a good evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too Emily!” he said.

She said goodbye to Cassidy, who had taken over from Trish at two o’clock, then she grabbed a muffin and left the coffee shop. Vinnie had given her directions to Rosita’s dance studio, so she knew which bus to catch. As she waited for it, she ate her muffin. Then the bus arrived, and she rode it until the driver announced that they had arrived at Dolomite Road.

As she disembarked, she saw the studio not far away. “Down and Dirty” said the sign, with smaller writing beneath saying “Latin Ballroom Dance Studio”. Emily bit her lip nervously. If this studio was exclusively focused on Latin ballroom, would it be much good for teaching her how to dance solo to rock and roll songs?

With a sigh, she walked up to the front door, and entered. Inside was a reception area, with a number of chairs and tables set around. A few of these were occupied by dance students (mostly female, mostly in their teens) chatting away and laughing. Changing rooms adjoined this area, and a corridor led away to rooms from which she could hear the sounds of Latin music. At a reception desk sat a woman in her early forties; she looked up as Emily approached.

“Hi,” said Emily, a little shyly. “My name’s Emily Flynn; I’m looking for Rosita...”

“Ah, the girl who can’t dance!” said the woman loudly, at which all eyes in the room turned toward Emily. The woman broke into a broad smile. “We’ll soon change that though! I’m Rosita. Come! Come with me.” She got to her feet and bustled away down the corridor. Emily followed at a trot.

Rosita threw open a door, and gestured inward. “A two-hour private lesson, free of charge? Unheard of!” she said. She was several inches shorter than Emily, with dark eyes, and dark hair that was tied back in a bun, and her speech was more heavily accented than that of her nephews. “But family is family. In you go, come on, come on. I’ll send Diego down to join you in a moment.” She looked down at Emily’s shoes. “No heels? Mamma Mia! But no matter. Wait here for Diego!”

“I will,” said Emily, stepping into the room. It was mirrored all along one wall and had a hardwood floor, and on a table in one corner sat a portable CD player. Otherwise it was practically empty.

She had not been waiting long when a young man walked into the room. He looked very Hispanic, with dark skin, slicked-back black hair and dark brown eyes. He was dressed in black trousers and a black shirt, which was unbuttoned to the waist, revealing a well-toned torso. “Ola!” he said cheerfully. “You must be Emily.”

“Yes!” said Emily, feeling a little flustered. Diego was very handsome, and exuded confidence and sex appeal. “You must be Diego.”

“Rosita tells me you cannot dance!” said Diego. “I cannot believe this. A beautiful woman like yourself, unable to dance? Surely there is some mistake?”

Emily blushed. “I grew up in a very religious community,” she said. “Dancing was strongly discouraged, if not actually forbidden.”

“But when you hear music are you not driven to move?” asked Diego. He began to dance, even though no music was playing. His movements were sinuous, precise, expressive, and apparently effortless. His hips seemed to be moving independently of his upper body, and his feet were a blur of intricate motion.

“Wow!” said Emily, impressed. “But I can’t do that!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he assured her. “My body does this, yours does something else maybe. But everybody has the music in them. You just have to feel it!” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s try something here. Something slow, because you are a beginner.” He pulled up his music app, started a song playing, then slipped the phone back into his pocket as the CD player’s speakers came to life.

The music that began was Latin-sounding, with Spanish lyrics, and an irregular tempo that Emily found a little confusing. She had no idea how to respond to it, and she clasped her wrist awkwardly as Diego approached her. “I ... you know this isn’t the kind of music I’ll be dancing to at tonight’s gig,” she said.

“Rhythm is universal,” he said. “You just have to find the beat. One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four. Do what I do. Take my hands.”

She held out her hands, and he took hold of them, facing her. Then, in time to the beat, he put his right foot forward, drew it back, followed by his left foot doing the same. Emily watched him for a couple of beats, then she started copying him, putting her right foot forward in time with his, and then her left. This was easy enough!

“Good!” he said. “Now put some hip into it, like this...”

First it was the hips, then it was the shoulders, then the hands ... and soon Emily felt that she was moving like a Latin dancer. It was slow and deliberate, but this seemed like progress, and she smiled.

“There, now you’re getting it!” said Diego. “We’re gonna spend this first hour teaching you basic steps, basic technique, how to move, how to listen and respond to the music ... then in the next hour we’ll translate what you have learned into some solo sequences that you can use at your concert tonight.”

“Okay!” said Emily, now feeling more hopeful that this might actually work for her.

Using a succession of different songs from his playlist, which Emily soon discovered was a compilation of music by various different artists, Diego taught her basic footwork first, as well as how to move her hips. Then he taught her how to move her arms and shoulders. It was all simple stuff, but Emily was surprised how quickly she was able to pick it up. “Maybe I can dance after all!” she giggled.

“Of course you can!” said Diego. “Anyone can dance. Now, let’s try some partnering. I know it’s not what you’ll be doing tonight, but trust me, it’ll help. We’ll do a Bachata in closed position, so I can guide you through the steps. Just stay with me, and use the footwork I’ve taught you.”

“Okay,” said Emily, a little apprehensively.

As the next song started, Diego reached around her waist, spread his hand behind the small of her back, and pulled her body against his. Her eyes widened. “Where do I put my hands?” she asked.

“Left arm around me,” he replied, smiling at her from a very close distance. She could see the ceiling lights reflected in his eyes as tiny stars. “Right hand in my left.” He held up his left hand, and she placed her right in it. Then she put her left arm around his back, resting it on his shoulder blade.

This was exciting. Emily felt clumsy at first with her steps, but after Diego gave her some helpful pointers, she found a rhythm that she could repeat, and with repetition came more confidence. Soon she was lost in the dance, as Diego led her and twirled her and smouldered at her with those gorgeous eyes. He was so close; she could feel his warmth, his energy, his masculinity, his strength, his command. By the end of the song, her breathlessness was not just from exertion.

He stopped, and smiled at her, still holding her close. “There, you see, you’re a natural,” he said.

“You really think so?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Definitely!” he said. “I am sad that this is just one session; I would like to keep teaching you.”

“I’d like that too!” Emily gasped. “But ... I can’t afford a course of lessons...”

“Then I will teach you for free, on my own time!” said Diego. “This place closes at five o’clock on Mondays. Would you be willing to meet me here at that time?”

Emily bit her lip, then nodded. He had awakened something inside her, and she was keen to explore it. And she wanted to dance with him again, to feel his power, to twirl around the dance floor in his arms... She had always wanted to dance, and he was going to help her be a better dancer. That’s all there was to it.

But those eyes...

They did a little more partner work in the next song, and this time she felt more like his partner and less like his student. He kept his instructions to a minimum, and really got into the character of the song: it was sexy and sultry, and his hands roamed all over her body. It was not like being groped; it felt like legitimate dance movements, as he brought his palm and fingers from her neck down the middle of her chest, between her breasts, while looking directly into her eyes. A little later he had one hand on her belly and another in the small of her back; later still he was bending her over backward while running a hand up the outside of her thigh, dragging her dress up to her hip. None of these touches seemed dirty; just in keeping with the steamy romantic nature of the song. Emily was rather thrilled by all of it.

Then the first hour was up, and Diego began to work with her on some dance moves to use in her gig with Compass. She had a bit of a hard time describing the music, since she had very little experience of that kind of music in general, but once she sang some of it to him, he got the idea it was something along the lines of the rock band Kiss. In this, he was a little wide of the mark, but he correctly surmised that it would not matter too much.

“What will you be wearing?” he asked her.

“Oh!” she said. “Well I have it right here. At least I have the skirt. The top will be a t-shirt.” She pulled the denim skirt out, and showed him.

He looked at it a little disdainfully. “Why wear this and a t-shirt,” he asked, “when you have this beautiful dress that you could wear instead?” He gestured to the blue dress she was wearing.

Emily shrugged apologetically. “It’s a sort of uniform for the band,” she said. “At least, kind of – the boys will be in jeans. I didn’t want to wear jeans so they said I could wear a denim skirt instead.”

Diego nodded. “All right, well, we can work with it. Do you have a top you can wear with it for now?”

“Um,” said Emily. “I have my work blouse...”

“That’ll do,” said Diego. “Why don’t you change into those, and we’ll figure out a little routine for you.”

“Change ... here?” asked Emily, her eyes widening. She wondered if Diego would be as big a fan of her breasts as Marv was.

“We have changing rooms next to the lobby,” said Diego, looking amused. “But if you want to change in front of me, I certainly would not object!”

Emily blushed. The changing rooms! Of course. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

Leaving the room, she took her bag back to the lobby, went into one of the women’s changing rooms, and took off her dress. She put on her blouse first, buttoning it up to the same extent as she had been doing at the coffee shop. Indeed, there did not seem any point in fastening the next button up; if it popped open by itself when she was leaning over a table, it would certainly not stay closed while she was dancing.

Then she put on the skirt, and she was a little surprised to find herself fairly satisfied with its length. It was about an inch longer than her work skirt, and although that still put it outside her comfort zone for everyday clothing, she guessed that it would not seem out of place on a stage with a rock band.

She returned to Diego, who looked her up and down appraisingly. “The blouse is great,” he said. “Pity you will not be wearing it at your gig instead of a t-shirt! But the skirt ... ay ay ay! It’s so plain! It’s a skirt for a trip to the mall. It is not sexy. You want to look sexy, right?”

“Um,” said Emily nervously. “Not really...”

Diego raised an eyebrow. “Emily, you are beautiful. You have a model’s figure. You are about to represent your band. Do you not want to make a great impression?”

Emily grinned sheepishly. “Can’t I let the music make the impression, and just hide out in the background?”

Diego chuckled. “You were not meant to be a wallflower, Emily. If you’re going to be in a band, embrace the attention! The music may or may not be good enough to earn you fans, but you yourself ... you will have fans wherever you go. If you want to help your band be a success, then you should not be afraid to use what God has given you.”

Emily bit her lip, and nodded. “But I don’t have another denim skirt,” she said.

“Then let’s shorten this one,” said Diego. “I’ll fetch a pair of scissors ... with your permission?”

Emily gasped. “Scissors? But ... but then the hem will be all ragged!”

Diego shrugged. “That’s very rock and roll though,” he said. “It’ll be perfect.”

“Do we have time, though?” asked Emily anxiously. “You still need to teach me some moves...”

“It’ll just take a minute!” he replied cheerfully. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, leaving Emily feeling a little stunned.

When he returned, he was brandishing a large pair of scissors. “Okay!” he said. “Now let’s trim it to a more rock and roll length. I can try to do that while it’s on you, but I’ll probably achieve a more even cut if you take it off first.”

Emily shivered. So she was going to have to undress in front of him after all. The thought did not scare her as much as it would have done a few days go, but her hands were still trembling a little as she unzipped her skirt and tugged it down her legs. She was not quite sure why she was allowing him to trim her skirt; the thought of going in front of an audience in a skirt even shorter than this one was terrifying! But she felt a strong desire to please Diego, to make him proud of her, to see a look of approval in his eyes.

Diego smiled at her white panties, then looked her legs up and down as he crouched to pick up her skirt. “You have gorgeous legs!” he said. “Dancing will help to tone them up, of course, and for future lessons you should really wear heels. Do you own any?”

“High-heeled shoes?” asked Emily. “No, I don’t. I’ve never worn high heels before.”

“Never?” he asked her in surprise. “My my, Emily, we are really opening up a whole new world for you here! Do you think you can get a pair before Monday’s lesson?”

“I will,” said Emily, nodding. They would cost money, of course, but on the other hand, he was offering to teach her for free!

Diego looked at her panties again. “Hmm,” he said. “I should have made a note of how far down your thighs this skirt came.” He held it up in front of her. “Was it at about that height?”

“A little higher,” said Emily. “Yes, right about there.”

He gave her panties another look as he pulled the skirt away. “Okay, so about three inches...”

“Three inches?” gasped Emily. “But it’ll barely cover my ... my butt!”

“That’s the idea,” said Diego matter-of-factly.

“But no! No, Diego, please!” Emily begged him. “You don’t understand!” Tears were coming to her eyes. “I’ve never worn anything that short in my life! Until this week, I’d never worn anything shorter than knee-length! Not since I was a little kid, anyway. I grew up in a very religious community, and I’ve spent at least the last ten years wearing nothing but long dresses! But this week I feel like my hemlines have been getting shorter and shorter. This denim skirt already seems super short to me; I can’t even imagine it three inches shorter!”

Diego stood up, and took her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Emily, I had no idea,” he said, patting her gently on her upper back. “Your blouse is kinda provocative, so I misjudged how comfortable you would be in a tiny little microskirt. But I will not take a millimetre off that skirt that you are not okay with. Forgive me?”

Emily laughed though her tears. “Of course, Diego, of course. And thank you for understanding. The reason my blouse is like this is because it was the only one available that fit me. The next size up was too baggy around the waist. So I’ve been having to expose way more of my chest than I’m comfortable with!”

“Well for what it’s worth, I think it’s a great look on you,” said Diego. “Very Latin ballroom!”

Emily was enjoying being held in his strong arms, and the urge to please him was returning. “Could we maybe ... compromise?” she said hesitantly. “On the skirt length?”

“You’re thinking an inch and a half?” he asked. He ran his right hand down her back, slowly over her left buttock, then drew a line with his fingertips across the back of her thigh, a short distance below her bottom. “I’d guess that would put the hem about there.”

Emily had held her breath as she felt his hand briefly cupping her buttock through her panties. Now she released it. “I guess I can live with that,” she said.

He stepped back away from her, and smiled. “You know, I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for,” he said. “Here you are, a young woman who has grown up in a strict religious environment, and yet you’re standing in front of a stranger in a revealing blouse and your panties, apparently without any fear.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m without any fear,” said Emily, now self-consciously clasping her hands in front of her panties. “But it helps that you’ve been so nice. And all the embarrassing exposures I’ve been through this week have kind of worn me down a bit, I suppose.”

“What embarrassing exposures?” Diego asked curiously. But then he shook his head. “Sorry – none of my business. But do you know the secret to coping with accidental exposures?”

“No!” said Emily ruefully. “And I wish I did!”

“Don’t apologise for them,” said Diego firmly. He took her wrists and pulled them apart, placing her arms by her sides. “If you find yourself dressed in a way that makes you feel embarrassed, don’t show it! Own the way you look. If people see you exposed, and you’re all ‘oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening to me!’ they will laugh, and they will pity you, and they will always remember your shame. But if you act like everything is fine, they’ll just think ‘whoa, what a hot chica!’ And they’ll remember how sexy you were.”

“But I don’t want to be remembered for how sexy I am!” said Emily forlornly.

“Why not?” asked Diego. “What’s wrong with being sexy?”

It was a question that floored Emily. He asked it so innocently, as if he could not imagine anyone thinking there was something wrong with being sexy ... while she on the other hand had grown up equating sexiness with indecency and depravity and low moral character. “I ... it just doesn’t feel ... right,” she said lamely.

“Oh, but it is so right!” said Diego, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and tapping the screen a few times before putting it back. As a new song started, he stepped forward and put his arm around her waist, pulling her against him. “God did not give you this body just so you could hide it away in long dresses, Emily. Just like he did not give you the ability to dance only to have you sit around and do nothing when the music plays.” He swooped her around, and twirled her, his feet and knees and hips a symphony of motion.

Emily performed the steps she had learned, keeping up with him, but she was feeling a little anxious. “Diego, I’m still not wearing my skirt!”

“And yet you dance,” he said, pulling her against him again. “It is the real you. You are sexy, Emily, whether you want to be or not. Embrace it!” He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Your beautiful face.” He followed the line of her neck. “This graceful neck.” He slid his palm down over her right breast, cupping it briefly. “Your incredible breasts!” He continued on downward, moving to her side. “Your slim waist. Your sumptuous hips. Your stunning behind.” Here Emily gasped, for he had grasped her right buttock firmly through her panties. But he almost immediately slid it downward again, crouching a little as he followed the back of her thigh. “Your elegant legs!” Then he stood up again, and brought his finger up to her lips. “Those pretty lips. You cannot tell me that you are not sexy, Emily. Or that it is wrong that you are sexy.”

They continued to dance, and this time Diego was rather freer with his hands than he had been before. Several times he grasped one buttock or the other, as he was dipping her or holding her close or catching her after a twirl. And twice, as he ran his hand over her right breast, he gave it a gentle squeeze through her blouse. But Emily was too caught up in the whirlwind to care; she felt intoxicated by the music, the dancing, Diego’s strong hands and command of their movements ... she was loving this. He was making her feel like she had never felt before.

As the song ended, she almost hoped that he would kiss her. But only almost; she was still very much loyal to Nathan, and she knew how wrong it would be to fall for this Hispanic ballroom genius, no matter how handsome he was. But that did not mean she could not enjoy dancing with him. She sighed. “Wow, Diego,” she said, “I never knew dancing could be like this! I’m really enjoying myself.”

He smiled. “And do you feel sexy?”

“I do,” she confessed. “Thank you for showing me that ... it’s okay to be sexy.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, we should shorten your skirt and then get on with some moves for your rock concert.”

“Okay,” said Emily. Then, as Diego set the scissors an inch and a half above the hem of her skirt, she blurted out, “You can go shorter if you like.”

Diego looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “Do it quickly before I change my mind. The whole three inches.”

Diego grinned, and deftly scissored his way through the skirt, taking three inches off its length. Standing up, he handed it to her. “I am very proud of you, Emily,” he said.

Emily gulped as she put the skirt on. As she zipped it up, she felt a little light-headed. What had she done? This skirt was so short now! Indecently short! She tucked her fingers up beneath the back of it, and felt her buttocks. They were covered, thank goodness, but only with about an inch to spare.

Diego saw her imminent panic attack brewing. He took her hands in his, and squeezed them. “You look amazing,” he said. “Very sexy. Now let’s teach you some moves.”

And he did. For the next forty-five minutes, as he played various rock songs he found on YouTube, he showed her some Latin-inspired solo dance moves that fit in well with a standard rock beat. Emily could picture herself doing these moves to songs like ‘Cherry Pie’ and ‘Hometown Girl’, and although some of them were a little sexier than she would have preferred, she was determined to embrace her role as the band’s sexy dancing backing singer, and do Diego proud. Besides, she figured that if she got cold feet while performing, she could always leave out the sexiest moves.

Halfway through this exercise, Diego asked her to unbraid her hair, and wear it loose. This she did, a little reluctantly since she felt it would look messy ... and the effect was transformative. Diego had her incorporate some head-twirls into her moves, which caused her long auburn tresses to bounce and fly around in a very eye-catching way.

“You are looking more like a quintessential rock chick!” said Diego approvingly. “Now let’s try this...” He reached over, and unfastened the next button on her blouse. “How do you feel about that?”

Emily shivered. Her breasts were not really in any danger of falling out, but they certainly looked very exposed. “I think that’s a little much, Diego,” she said. “Besides, I’m going to be wearing a t-shirt, remember?”

“Yes,” said Diego without enthusiasm. “A pity! This is a much better look. Will you leave it this way while we continue? So you can get used to it?”

“I guess so,” said Emily. In truth, her objection had been mostly out of habit; she did not really mind showing off her breasts to Diego. She was starting to miss partnering with him, and she briefly entertained a little fantasy in which he slipped his hand inside her blouse and began stroking her breast while she leaned back over his other arm... She shivered.

All too soon, it was five-thirty and their session was over. Emily was tired, but happy, and she was feeling more confident now about her ability to dance her way through three songs this evening.

“Thank you Diego,” she said. “This has really helped a lot.”

“I’m glad!” he said. “I hope your performance tonight goes well. But after that ... I really do think you have potential, and I’m looking forward to Monday’s lesson.”

“Me too!” said Emily happily.

“I’ll see you out front,” he said. “I’m just going to go and have a word with Rosita. You can change here or in a changing room – it’s up to you.”

“Thanks,” said Emily.

Once he had left, she briefly considered going back out to the changing room, but since she was alone in this room, she decided she might as well change here. Taking off her blouse and skirt, she carefully folded them up and placed them in her bag, then she put her blue dress back on. Picking up her bag, she left the room, and made her way down the corridor to the reception area. There she found Diego talking to Rosita.

“Ah, so you want more free lessons now?” said Rosita sternly.

Emily paled. “No – I mean well yes – Diego offered! I didn’t mean to take advantage of your generosity. I’ll happily pay ... well, what I can. I’m only temping as a waitress right now, but...”

Rosita burst out laughing. “Don’t panic, girl! I’m not about to eat you. If Diego wants to teach you on his own time, that’s his business. But if and when you can afford it, I’d encourage you to join one of our regular classes. Diego’s generosity is unlikely to last forever.”

“I will,” Emily promised.

“So what do you think...?” asked Diego.

Rosita looked Emily up and down. “She has the looks,” she said. “Sure, why not? If she’s willing. Perhaps it’ll pay for her lessons.”

“Willing to do what?” asked Emily, wide-eyed.

“My son Pablo creates a monthly e-zine promoting the studio,” said Rosita. “He wants some nice publicity photos for it, and we figured Diego could be our featured dance model. But he needs a partner, and I have not yet decided who that should be. It would make sense to use one of our regular students, but Diego has suggested you might like to do it. And I can’t deny you would be a good advertisement for the studio! So, what do you think? Would you be interested in posing for a few dance photos with Diego? There might be some solo shots too, I’m not sure.”

“Sure, that sounds like fun!” said Emily, trying not to sound too eager. The thought of spending more time with Diego was highly appealing.

“Well okay then!” said Rosita. “When’s the shoot, Diego?”

“Tomorrow evening,” said Diego. “Seven o’clock. I know it’s a weird time, but photography isn’t Pablo’s regular job. Can I get your number, Emily? I’ll text you the address.”

Emily blushed. “I don’t have a phone,” she said. “I’m planning to get one, hopefully tomorrow, but I don’t know what the number will be.”

They both stared at her. Then Diego said, “No problem, I’ll just write it down for you.” He did so, on a slip of paper that he handed to her. “My phone number is also on there, in case you get a phone tomorrow and need to call me.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

“I look forward to it,” said Diego, smiling.

“Bye Rosita. Thank you both!” Emily left the studio, smiling happily. This was all so exciting! But now she had to go and meet up with Nathan and her fellow band members. She knew the way, and it was only a few blocks, so she decided to walk rather than take a bus.

The walk, which took her through a busy retail district, was done in about twelve minutes. Recognizing the old publishing building, she walked up to it, and entered. The sounds of the others practising were immediately apparent.

“Hi guys!” she said.

“Emily!” said Marco happily.

“Hey Emily,” said Vinnie, with a little wave.

“Hi Baby,” said Nathan. “Nice dress!”

“Yeah!” said Marco – a little too enthusiastically perhaps, because Vinnie frowned at him.

“Help yourself to pizza,” said Nathan, indicating a box on a table by the wall.

“Thanks,” said Emily, and she helped herself to a slice. “Where’s Warren?”

“Hasn’t got here yet,” said Nathan. “He’s on his way though – said he’d be here by six. How was your dancing lesson?”

“It was fun!” said Emily. “I’ve learned some moves I can use in our gig.”

“Wanna join us for a practice?” asked Marco. “You can show us your new moves!”

“Sure!” said Emily. “Let me just finish my pizza first.”

A few minutes later they started playing through Cherry Pie, sans drums of course, when Warren arrived with a large shopping bag in his hand.

“T-shirts!” he announced. “Come and get ‘em!” As the others gathered around, he handed them out. “One for you, one for you ... this one’s for you, Vinnie, extra large...”

Emily took her own t-shirt and opened it out; it was pink, and bore the word CUMPASS in a dark green font that looked like street graffiti.

“The fuck is this, Warren?” asked Vinnie.

Emily winced. “Language please, Vinnie!”

Nathan stared at his own shirt. “I’m inclined to agree, though. Why did you get us all pink t-shirts? And why’s our band name spelled wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong with guys wearing pink these days,” said Warren defensively. “Black is such a rock cliché. And loads of bands misspell words; it’s cool!”

“I don’t want ‘cum’ on my shirt, Warren!” snapped Vinnie. “Seriously, what happened?”

“Look, is it my fault Neil can’t spell ‘compass’?” Warren said irritably. “I know the t-shirts aren’t ideal, but heck, I got them cheap and at short notice!”

“Well I’m not fucking wearing this,” said Vinnie.

“Nor me,” said Marco.

“Me neither,” said Nathan. “Sorry Warren, but it looks like your matching t-shirts idea is a bust.”

“Ugh!” said Warren, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. We’ll all just look boring and ordinary in our regular clothes.”

“Does this mean I can wear this dress?” Emily asked Nathan hopefully.

“I guess so!” said Nathan, seeming quite happy about the idea.

“Whew!” said Emily, relieved. “I’m afraid my denim skirt got shortened quite a bit; my dance teacher seemed to think it was a good idea.”

“Oh?” said Nathan. “Can I see it?”

Emily went over to her bag, pulled out the denim skirt, and held it up for Nathan to see.

All of the men stared at it. “Whoa, that’s super short!” said Nathan, wide-eyed.

“There’s no reason Emily couldn’t wear a pink t-shirt, right guys?” Marco ventured.

“Not with our band name misspelled!” said Vinnie in exasperation.

“Do you ... maybe ... have another top you could wear with it?” asked Nathan.

Emily could see where this was heading, and she swallowed nervously. “I ... I have my work blouse, but it’s kind of revealing...”

This was not, of course, a compelling argument against it, as far as the men were concerned. “If you can wear it to work, you can wear it for a rock gig, surely?” said Warren.

“Yeah!” agreed Nathan. “Why don’t you show us the whole ensemble, so we can judge for ourselves which outfit is better?”

Emily had little doubt which outfit they would prefer. The thought of being so skimpily dressed in front of Nathan and his friends was not so bad in itself – she was fairly sure they would be appreciative – but she was getting more and more terrified about singing and dancing in front of a crowd of strangers while wearing so little. She had no idea how they would react.

Vinnie came to her rescue. “Guys, maybe she’s just not comfortable showing so much. We want her to be happy with her outfit while she’s performing, right?”

“Thank you Vinnie,” said Emily gratefully. “You’re right – I’m a bit worried about wearing so little in front of a crowd. I mean, who knows what they’ll think?”

Warren shrugged. “Are you kidding? It’s a bar! Miniskirts and skimpy tops are routine there. You won’t look out of place, Emily, seriously. And you’re in a band! The usual clothing rules don’t generally apply to bands. Look at pop singers like Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga – they often perform in skimpy outfits. Trust me, nobody’s going to think you’re too underdressed.”

“That’s true enough,” agreed Vinnie. “But it should still be Emily’s choice.”

“Come on Emily,” Nathan begged her. “At least let us see the outfit.”

“Yes – please, Emily?” said Marco.

Emily shivered. The pressure she was feeling to change into her blouse and miniskirt had just become greater than the pressure she was feeling not to do so. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll change.”

“Yay!” said Nathan. “You can change in that room over there.” He pointed to a door in the far wall. “It’s just an old office.”

“Um, okay,” said Emily, her cheeks turning red. So this was it: she was going to change into her skimpy outfit after all. And she had little doubt that Nathan and his friends would persuade her to wear it for the gig. She walked over to the door, opened it, and entered a small room that still contained several pieces of office furniture, including a desk and a filing cabinet. She closed the door, put down her bag, and then took off her dress. Folding it up, she draped it over an old and dusty office chair.

Now she was dressed only in her panties and shoes. She shivered. This was the time when something was bound to happen that would keep her this way, something that would cause her to be exposed in front of Nathan’s friends. That was how things had been going lately; it had been one embarrassing exposure after another. It seemed like she was destined to show either her breasts or her panties, or both, to just about every man she met.

Not this time! She determinedly pulled her blouse out of her bag, slipped her arms into the sleeves, and fastened the lowest three buttons. For a moment she debated whether to undo the topmost of these, which was under strain from her breasts, and which Diego would no doubt encourage her to leave open. But she quickly decided that she was not yet ready to expose herself so much.

As she was getting her skirt out of her bag, she suddenly squealed in alarm. A cockroach had just run across the floor, emerging from beneath the desk and dashing right in front of her, passing close to her right foot. It scurried over to a pile of cardboard boxes in the corner of the room, and disappeared behind them.

She heard voices approaching, and hastily stepped into her skirt. Pulling it up, she fastened it just as she heard a knock on the door. Oh but it was so short!!

“You okay in there?” Nathan asked.

“Yes!” she replied, putting her dress back in her bag. She opened the door, and stepped out. “There was a cockroach!”

“Oh wow, Emily!” Nathan gasped, looking her up and down in astonishment. “You look ... wow! Come and show the guys!”

Emily followed him back across the room, to where the other band members were staring at her with open mouths.

“Very nice, Emily!” said Marco. “You look great!”

“That’s a sexy look, Emily,” said Vinnie. “You okay wearing that? Gotta be well outside your comfort zone, right?”

“It is,” Emily agreed fervently. She looked down uncomfortably at her bare thighs, which were almost entirely uncovered.

“I gotta agree with the guys, Emily,” said Warren. “With you looking like that, nobody will notice if I miss a beat or Nathan messes up a line.”

“Shall we practise?” asked Nathan brightly. “Emily can try out some of her dance moves.”

There was a murmur of assent, and they all took their positions. Warren drummed them in, and Vinnie launched into the opening riff of Whatcha Doin’ Girl.

This run-through was a disaster, because as soon as Emily began to dance, the boys all began watching her instead of focusing on what they were supposed to be doing. Warren, who alone was unaffected, being unable to see much of Emily beyond his drum kit, terminated the song with a loud clatter of his cymbals. “Guys, what the fuck!” he said. “Never mind Emily; focus on your own parts!”

Reluctantly, Nathan and the Vespucci brothers did their best to ignore Emily, who nevertheless persisted in putting her brief dance training to good use. At first her steps felt clumsy and silly, but when she remembered to make use of her hips and arms, it all seemed to come together. By the end of the song, she was feeling quite pleased with how well she was doing.

Her fellow band members were impressed. “That must have been a good lesson!” said Nathan. “You’re so much better than you were before.”

“I can see the Latin ballroom influence in there,” said Vinnie. “That’s kinda cool I think. Different.”

“Yeah!” said Marco. “It looked great! As far as I could tell. I was trying not to get distracted.”

“Nice job, Emily,” said Warren. “Okay guys, we’ve got time for one more song, then we should really pack up the van.”

“Hometown Girl?” Marco suggested.

“Yup,” Vinnie agreed.

They played the song through, and it went well. Emily danced a little more confidently, and this time did so even while she was singing, though for simplicity’s sake she restricted herself to a move Diego had called “basic in place”, which consisted of putting one knee in front of the other alternately, while wiggling her hips. When not singing, she performed moves that allowed her to move around a little.

After the song, Warren dismantled his drum kit, and everyone helped to take it out to the van along with the amps, guitars, and other pieces of equipment. In twenty minutes the van was fully loaded, and Warren climbed into the driver’s seat. Marco got into the other side, while Nathan and Emily got into Vinnie’s car.

Vinnie happened to turn around just as Emily was getting herself situated in the back, and he quite inadvertently got an eyeful of her white panties before she had time to put her knees together. “Uh, I was just going to mention, the seatbelt back there has a tendency to lock very easily,” he said, his cheeks turning very red. “You’ll want to pull it out really slowly.”

Emily realised what he must have seen, and she blushed too. “Thanks Vinnie,” she said, and she began to slowly pull out her seat belt. So now Vinnie had seen her panties too. Wonderful. With a skirt this short, she was clearly going to have trouble keeping them concealed!

Warren parked his van in the parking lot behind Lucky’s , and Vinnie pulled up next to him. Then Warren went inside to make sure it was okay for them to start setting up. Emily got out of Vinnie’s car; she could hear loud music playing inside.

“Is there another band in there?” she asked.

Vinnie chuckled. “No, that’s Guns N’ Roses,” he said. “November Rain. Maybe it’s 90s night in there. Anyway it’s playing on the house speakers. We’ll be louder than that.”

Warren returned. “We’re good to go!” he said.

Emily felt butterflies in her stomach as she helped to carry equipment into the bar via the double doors at its rear. Inside, she was surprised how busy it was; there seemed to be over a hundred people sitting at the bar or gathered close to it, or sitting at the tables lined up in neat rows across the floor space. There was a stage to the right of the bar itself; it seemed to be constructed of wooden planks, and sat about eighteen inches above the floor. There were a couple of broad steps at one side, which she ascended with the microphone stand she was carrying.

‘I can’t believe I’m really about to do this,’ she thought to herself, trying to ignore the dozens of bar patrons watching her with interest as she helped to set things up. ‘Performing rock songs on stage in front of people! In a miniskirt, and with half my chest showing! Oh my goodness – I don’t know if I can do this!’

The next few minutes seemed to pass by in a surreal haze. Warren was behind the drums, Nathan was doing a sound check, Marco and Vinnie were tuning their guitars. Emily stood awkwardly by one of the Marshall speakers, clutching a mike in her hand, hoping she did not seem as out of place as she felt.

Then a heavily-built, bald-headed man came on stage, and leaned into Nathan’s mike. “Folks, it’s live music time again here at Lucky’s! Thank you all for coming, and please give these guys a lot of support – I believe this is their first gig! They’re called Compass – lets give them a big hand!”

A smattering of applause accompanied his exit from the stage. Nathan, looking very nervous, stepped up to the mike. “Hi guys,” he said, before clearing his throat. “We’re Compass, and yeah this is our first gig. We’ve got three songs for you this evening. The first one is called Hometown Girl. Hope you like it. Hit it, Warren!”

Warren glared at him, and Emily gulped. Nathan had messed up already, and they had not even started playing. Hometown Girl started with a riff from Vinnie, not a drum intro. Fortunately Vinnie was keeping his wits about him; he struck up the first chord, and then Marco and Warren joined in together at the beginning of the second phrase.

The audience cheered; they seemed happy with the sound. Belatedly, Emily remembered that she should be dancing, but her arms and legs seemed frozen and stiff. She saw people looking at her, and a sense of panic began to creep over her.

Nathan had begun to sing:

“I’ve been everywhere, I’ve seen everything,
Like the Eiffel Tower and the Golden Gate Bridge,
I got postcards from Ireland, from Spain and Beijing,
And a ton of other places stuck to my fridge.

“I’ve met hotties in L.A., I’ve met babes in Japan,
You should see the pretty faces I came across in Rome,
There are beauties in Australia and Amsterdam,
But none of them compare with the girl I got at home.”

Emily knew she would have to start singing in a moment, and she swallowed nervously, and licked her lips. Thinking about this took her mind off dancing; she was absolutely determined to come in on cue. Thus, as Nathan launched into the chorus, she burst into her backing vocal at the same time:

“She’s my Hometown Girl,
She’s my Hometown Girl,
Nobody compares to my Hometown Girl.
She’s my Hometown Girl,
She’s my Hometown Girl,
The prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

Except that Emily herself, while Nathan was delivering these lyrics, was singing her own slightly modified version:

“I’m a Hometown Girl,
I’m a Hometown Girl,
Nobody compares to a Hometown Girl.
I’m a Hometown Girl,
I’m a Hometown Girl.”

While she sang, she extended her left arm sideways, her fingers spread, and somehow this eased her into her ‘basic in place’ leg movements. Once she had started these, it was easier to keep them going than to stop, so she continued to dance after the fifth line of the chorus.

Nathan finished the chorus on his own, and as he sang “The prettiest girl in the whole wide world“, he turned and pointed right at Emily. The audience cheered, and Emily blushed.

Somehow she managed to keep dancing, and as Nathan began the second verse, she started to move around more, making the most of her little corner of the stage. She heard someone wolf-whistle, and then someone else did the same, and when she looked up, she saw that most of the men in the audience were looking at her, grinning and cheering appreciatively. She saw one man put his fingers in his mouth and wolf-whistle while staring directly at her.

Her confidence increasing, Emily started smiling more, and she threw herself into her limited repertoire of dance moves. This drew even more whoops and wolf-whistles, and one man shouted something she could not hear. But his grin and big thumbs-up suggested he was enjoying the show. Some people were holding phones up in front of them, and she saw a couple of flashes as they took photos.

Then it was time for the second chorus, for which she once again joined in. After that, not wishing to steal Vinnie’s thunder, she kept her moves low-key during his short solo. After joining in with the final chorus, she turned around and shook her hips at the audience as the song drew to a close. The audience clapped and cheered.

Gratified, Nathan spoke into the microphone. “You guys are awesome!” he said. “Thank you very much! We’re feeling very welcome here. Our next song is called Cherry Pie.”

Emily launched straight into her dance moves as the song began. She was feeling much more comfortable now. After an experimental move that she made up on the spot (she instantly named it The Swoop, because it involved bending over forwards and then arching her back as she raised her head up again), she smiled happily as the men in the audience cheered loudly.

It was only later in the song that she realised that her uppermost fastened button had popped open. For a moment she was inclined to panic, but then she remembered Diego’s advice about owning her accidental exposures. So she simply smiled, and kept dancing, and took comfort in how enthusiastically the audience seemed to be enjoying her moves.

She was indeed a mesmerizing sight. It was very obvious that she was braless, for her breasts kept bouncing around inside her blouse as if they were constantly thinking about making an escape. It never happened, but the apparent possibility kept all male eyes in the room fixed upon her, lest they miss anything.

Moreover, some of her leg movements involved her lifting her knee up until the top of her thigh was almost horizontal. She always did this with her knee pointing across her body, so nobody could see her panties, but again, the tantalizing near-misses were keeping the audience on tenterhooks.

At the end of the song, Nathan was feeling buoyant. “Thank you, thank you!” he said. “Let me just introduce the band. In the back there, we have Warren on drums!” Warren responded with a brief but dramatic drum solo, and the audience cheered. “Next we have Marco on bass!” Marco raised his hand and waved, and received some applause in response. “The big dude on lead guitar is Marco’s elder brother, Vinnie!” Vinnie strummed a power chord, then raised his hand and grinned as the audience clapped and cheered. Then Nathan turned to look at Emily. “And over there in the miniskirt, doing a great job after just one dancing lesson, is my Hometown Girl, Emily!”

There was an almost deafening eruption of applause, cheers, whoops, and wolf-whistles. Emily blushed and waved, smiling happily. She was glad now that she had worn the denim microskirt, and she even did not mind that her button had popped open. Clearly, they loved her!

“And finally, I’m Nathan!” said Nathan. “Our third and final song is called Whatcha Doin’ Girl. I kinda messed up earlier – sorry Vinnie! – but now I can say with confidence ... hit it, Warren!”

Warren played his intro, the song began, and Emily resumed dancing. Thrilled by the audience’s reaction to her introduction, she was starting to feel that maybe Diego was right: that she really was sexy, and should embrace it rather than shy away from it. After the first chorus, she turned away from the audience, spread her feet about eighteen inches apart, put her hands on her hips, then did her ‘swoop’ move. The audience whooped and whistled, and she giggled. She was not sure if they had seen her panties, but right now she did not mind. She had been deliberately sexy, and had earned enthusiastic praise for it.

When the song came to an end, Nathan said into his mike, “That’s it, that’s our set, thank you very much, and good night!” The audience cheered and clapped.

The bald man came back on stage and took over the mike. “Great show guys, well done. Let’s hear it for them once again, folks – Compass!” He paused for more applause, then continued, “More live music to come. At ten o’clock we’ve got Sugar Tree – remember them? Looking forward to seeing them again. In the meantime, have a drink, have fun, and enjoy some more rock classics!”

The house speakers began playing Last Kiss by Pearl Jam, and Nathan hurried over to Emily. “You were great, Baby!” he said excitedly.

“You were too!” said Emily happily. “Everyone was! I think that went really well!”

Vinnie and Marco came over, grinning from ear to ear. “That was awesome!” said Vinnie. “Great job guys.”

“You too!” said Nathan. “Both of you!”

“I messed up a couple times,” Marco confessed, “but fortunately I think everyone was too busy watching Emily to notice!”

“Yeah, Emily was great,” Vinnie agreed. “No secret who the audience loved best!”

Emily blushed. “I didn’t do much,” she said. “You guys did all the hard work!”

“Credit where it’s due, Emily,” said Warren, who had emerged from behind the drums to join them. “We wouldn’t have gone down nearly so well without the eye candy you provided. I couldn’t really see your moves, but...”

“They were good!” said Marco. “Very hot!”

“Yeah, well maybe next time pay attention to your bass instead of Emily,” Warren chided him. “You were all over the place.”

Marco had the grace to look guilty. “Yeah, I was,” he admitted. “I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

“Hey, enough with the cold water,” said Vinnie. “We were a hit!”

“Yeah!” Nathan agreed.

“You’re right,” said Warren. “Let’s pack away our gear and then get some drinks to celebrate.”

“Who’s drinking?” Vinnie chuckled. “You and I are driving, and Emily and Marco are under 21!”

“That just leaves me,” said Nathan. “Guess I’ll have to drink enough for all five of us!”

“Nathan!” said Emily, shocked.

“I’ll join you Nathan,” said Warren. “Marco wants to drive the van anyway. He can drop me at home and keep it overnight; I don’t care.”

“Well you guys can drink if you like,” said Vinnie. “But I’m driving, so I’m not drinking, and Marco can’t drink either.”

“I can play pool though,” said Marco. “Want a game?”

“Sure,” said Vinnie. “After all the gear’s in the van. But what about you, Emily? I know you’re relying on me for a ride...”

“I can stay for a bit,” said Emily. “As long as I’m not home too late.”

“Okay!” said Marco. “Do you play pool, Emily?”

The thought of bending over a pool table in this skirt made Emily shiver. “No, I’ll just watch you guys play.”

They carried all of their equipment back outside into the car park, and loaded it into the van. It was starting to get dark, and Emily began to think that maybe she should just get straight back to the Davises’. But she did not want to spoil anyone else’s fun, so she went back inside with the others, and accompanied them to the bar.

Space was quickly made for Emily. “You were great up there – Emily, right?” said one man in his late twenties. “Can I buy you a drink?” He was wearing a baseball cap, and both of his arms were heavily tattooed.

Emily was feeling quite thirsty, and had no money with her. “Yes please!” she said. “That would be very kind of you. Just an orange juice please.”

“Awww, you need something stronger than that, after that performance!” said the man. “How about a cocktail of some kind?”

“But I don’t drink alcohol!” said Emily. “I’m too young. I’m only nineteen.”

“Hey now!” said Nathan, elbowing his way to the bar between Emily and the tattooed man. “The lady’s drinks are on me.”

“Ah, the singer!” said the man, smirking. “Well you’re a lucky guy. Your girlfriend’s a peach.”

“Thank you, I’m aware of that,” said Nathan, a little stiffly.

They got drinks, and headed to the pool table, but found it occupied. There were also no chairs available.

“Looking for somewhere to sit, Honey?” asked a big bearded biker, grinning at Emily. He patted his lap. “Got plenty of room for you here!”

“Uh, no thanks!” said Emily hurriedly.

“Maybe we should just go,” said Nathan uneasily. Looking around, he was realising that most of the men here were large and rough-looking, and were eyeing Emily up as if she were a tasty slice of steak.

“Aww come on Nathan,” said Warren impatiently. “We just got drinks! The pool table will open up soon, I’m sure.”

Emily gasped as she felt a hand grasp her left buttock through her skirt. Looking around, she saw the large figure of a biker heading away from her. She clutched at Nathan’s arm.

“Uh, sure, Warren,” said Nathan. He turned to Vinnie. “Hey Vinnie,” he said in a low voice. “Would you mind getting Emily out of here?”

Vinnie nodded. “Consider it done,” he said. Walking around to Nathan’s other side, he said, “Emily, I think Warren and Nathan will be a while. Can I give you a ride home?”

“Yes please,” said Emily gratefully. “Nathan, are you coming...?”

“I’m gonna help Warren celebrate,” said Nathan. “This is really his success, and I don’t want him drinking alone. Vinnie will take you home. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Oh ... okay,” said Emily. She was a little disappointed, but she understood that Nathan needed to be there for his friend. “See you tomorrow then.”

She followed Vinnie towards the front entrance, but was accosted all the way by people – mostly men – who wanted to congratulate or compliment her. “You were great!” said one. “I loved your dancing!” “Super sexy!” said another. “I hope you’ll come back!” Other comments followed in a similar vein. Emily was positively glowing by the time they got outside.

“Maybe we should have stayed a bit longer,” she said, a little regretfully.

“Best to leave on a high note,” said Vinnie. “It’s kind of a rough place. Some of the folks in there are perfectly nice, I’m sure, but others ... I wouldn’t put it past some of them to try to take advantage of you.”

Emily smiled. “Thank you Vinnie. You’re such a gentleman!” It occurred to her that she knew very little about him. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Vinnie sighed. “I did. We split up. Turned out she was seeing someone else behind my back.”

“Oh, that’s awful Vinnie, I’m so sorry,” said Emily sympathetically.

“It’s okay,” said Vinnie. “Maybe I’ll get as lucky as Nathan next time.”

Emily blushed. “I’m sure you will.”

Vinnie opened the passenger door of his car for her, and she climbed in with her bag. As he sat down, it occurred to her that where he was standing, still holding on to the door, he was perfectly positioned to see up her skirt again. Once she was settled, she glanced up at him, but he was not looking at her. “Thanks Vinnie,” she said.

As he drove her home, she quailed at the thought of entering the house dressed like this. “Vinnie, I’ll need to change into my dress before I go inside,” she said.

“Oh, okay,” said Vinnie. “You can get into the back and change there. I won’t look.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully.

Following her directions, Vinnie pulled up outside the Davises’ house a few minutes later. But then, as she climbed into the back between the two front seats, Vinnie could not help glancing up at the rear-view mirror, which beautifully reflected Emily’s panty-clad bottom.

In the back seat, while Emily took off her skirt and blouse, Vinnie answered his phone, which had begun buzzing in his pocket. “Hello? Oh, hi Nathan. You want to talk to Emily? Sure, she’s right here. I was about to drop her off.” Without looking behind him, he handed the phone to Emily through the gap.

Emily took the phone and held it to her ear. “Hi Nathan! Your timing could be better...”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Nathan asked.

“Nothing,” said Emily, “it’s just that I was in the middle of changing! I’m in the back seat of Vinnie’s car right now, wearing just my shoes and panties!”

“What??? Is he ... looking at you?”

“No of course not, silly!” said Emily. “He’s being a perfect gentleman. I just didn’t want to go in the house looking the way I looked at the bar. Somehow I don’t think Jacob and Mary would approve!”

“Fair enough,” said Nathan. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave with you; I just didn’t want Warren drinking on his own. I was hoping to spend a bit of time with you this evening...”

“Me too,” said Emily. “Tomorrow though?”

“Yes!” said Nathan. “I can’t wait to just hang out with you, go to the movies, go shopping and stuff, while you’re wearing one of your skimpy new outfits. I just love what you’ve done with your wardrobe. You look so good, Emily, I just can’t tell you!”

Emily blushed, even though he could not see her. “Well I’m glad you approve,” she said. “I was kind of looking forward to wearing some longer hemlines though! I feel like I’ve been a little bit forced into skimpier outfits than I’m really comfortable with.”

“I guess I can understand that,” said Nathan. “But you have such a gorgeous body, Emily – everyone says so. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed to show it off...”

“But Nathan, think how we were brought up!” said Emily. “This is all so contrary to how I’ve always been taught to dress!”

“I know,” admitted Nathan, “but this is the city...”

“Yeah, I know,” said Emily with a sigh. “But what am I going to do with all my old dresses?”

“You could donate them to charity,” Nathan suggested. “Maybe Sasha’s store would like them. We could do that tomorrow ... and maybe buy you some new outfits...?”

Emily chuckled. “We’ll see,” she said. “But I should go. Vinnie’s being very patient, but I don’t want to keep him waiting too long.”

“Okay,” said Nathan. “Well, have a good night.”

“You too,” she replied.

She passed the phone back to Vinnie. “Thanks!” she said. Then she put on her blue dress, and tucked her blouse and denim microskirt back into her bag. “Okay, I’m dressed. Thanks again Vinnie. Have a good night!”

“You too,” said Vinnie.

Emily got out, then she came around to the driver’s side. Vinnie lowered his window, and looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Thank you for not turning around,” she said, looking down at her toes. “You really are a gentleman, Vinnie, and I appreciate you taking care of me. So I think you deserve this.” She bent down, and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Vinnie.” Then she hurried towards the house, leaving Vinnie startled and red-cheeked behind her.

Entering the house, Emily looked into the living room and saw Jacob and Mary chatting with a middle-aged couple she did not recognise. “Oh!” said Mary, spotting her. “Emily! Come on in and say hi to our friends, Brad and Linda. And tell us how your concert went!”

Emily entered the room, smiling politely. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said.

“We’ve been hearing all about you!” said Brad, beaming down at her. He was a tall man, lean and sharp-featured, but with an infectious smile.

“Good things, I hope!” said Emily with a little laugh.

“Oh yes, all good things!” Linda assured her. She was built like a female version of her husband, and looked a little severe despite her thin-lipped smile.

“I think Paul’s hoping you’ll stop in and see him,” said Jacob. “He was upset we wouldn’t let him go to your gig. But with it being in a bar...”

Emily shuddered at the thought of Paul being in the audience. “Yes, I think that was the right choice,” she said. “There was certainly a lot of alcohol being drunk. That’s kind of why I left right after the gig actually – it was a little too rowdy for my tastes.”

“Oh dear!” said Mary. “Yes I was a little worried about that...”

“Oh but they were super supportive, though!” said Emily. “Honestly, it couldn’t have gone better. We got cheers, applause, compliments afterwards ... we were quite the hit!”

“That’s wonderful!” said Jacob. “Start of a new career, do you think?”

“I don’t know about that,” said Emily, chuckling. “We didn’t make any money off it, and I don’t know how likely we are to get any paid gigs in the future. But it was fun; we did ourselves proud, and we had a good time.”

“That’s the main thing, then!” said Mary. “I must say, Emily, it’s nice to see you with your hair loose. You have such lovely hair.”

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said. “Um, well, I guess I should go up and see Paul. I’m sure he’ll be wanting to play a video game with me.”

“Probably!” laughed Mary. “Well, have fun!”

“Nice to meet you Linda, Brad,” said Emily.

“Nice to meet you too!” they replied.

Emily left the living room, climbed the stairs, and went into her bedroom to drop off her bag. Then she crossed the landing, and knocked on the door of Paul’s room. “Hello?” she heard him say, and she entered. “Hi Paul,” she said, smiling.

His face lit up. “Hey Emily!” He put down his Xbox controller. “Wow, I like your hair like that! How was your gig?”

“It was so much fun!” said Emily enthusiastically. “They loved us!”

“Yay!” said Paul. “That’s awesome! So you think you’ll do more gigs in future?”

“Yes, totally!” said Emily. “As long as Warren can arrange them. This afternoon I had a dance lesson with this Latin ballroom dancer, Diego, and he taught me some solo moves I could use during our songs ... and it really worked out well! People seemed to really like my dancing! And honestly I’ve never really danced before today!”

“Wow!” said Paul. “You must be a natural!”

“That’s what Diego said!” said Emily excitedly. “He’s going to give me more lessons – free of charge!”

“Nice!” said Paul. “Did you wear that dress for your gig? I really like it.”

“No,” said Emily, blushing. “I wore a skirt and a blouse. But thank you – I like this dress too.”

“So do you want to play a game with me?” asked Paul.

“Sure!” said Emily.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed first?” Paul suggested impishly.

Emily pursed her lips. “Brad and Linda are still here,” she said. “I think I should probably wait a bit.”

“They’ll be leaving soon,” said Paul cheerfully. “The prayer meeting finished like half an hour ago. You needn’t worry – they won’t be coming upstairs. Are you going to have a shower?”

“I was planning on it,” said Emily.

“Heck, they’ll be long gone by the time you finish that,” said Paul.

Emily hesitated, then nodded. “All right,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes then.”

She returned to her bedroom, took a towel and a clean tank top and panties to the bathroom, and had her shower. As the water drummed against her back, she gently stroked her pussy, remembering all the sexy things that had happened today. Being locked out of the house with her panties full of poo had been scary and humiliating, but Harry was such a sweet old man – he had been totally non-judgmental and very helpful. She almost did not mind that he had accidentally seen her fully naked.

Then there was Marv, and his gentle fondling of her breasts while he explained how beautiful they were. Marv was not a particularly attractive man, but he was nice, and kindness was more important than looks anyway. Then again, there was Diego... Oh, Diego! So handsome ... and he had danced with her while she was not even wearing a skirt! Had he done that deliberately, just so he could keep her in her panties for longer?

She rubbed her pussy a little harder, and closed her eyes. He probably had ... and he had undone her button, too, so that he could see more of her breasts. During her next lesson, what else would he do? And what would she wear...?

With a pang of guilt, she stopped masturbating. She should not be thinking this way about anyone but her fiancé. With a sigh, she tried again, this time imagining Nathan sweeping her around the dance floor ... but it was just not the same. She gave up, and finished washing.

Once she had dried herself, and put on her clean top and panties, she went back to Paul’s room. As she entered, she shivered as his grinning gaze went directly to her panties. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s play Vintage Racers again ... it you’re up for it?”

“Sure!” she said, and she sat down next to him.

They began playing, but after only a couple of minutes, the screen went black. “Uh-oh,” said Paul. He got up, went over to the television, and reached behind it. “Sometimes the cable comes loose. Let’s see...”

But as much as he fiddled with the cable, he could not get the picture to reappear. Puzzled, he switched over to the cable feed, and immediately a picture appeared on the screen. He switched back to the Xbox feed, but still there was nothing. “Bummer!” he said. “Well that sucks. I guess we could try taking the Xbox downstairs and using the big TV in the living room ... but Mom and Dad might be watching it.”

“I feel weird about going downstairs like this,” said Emily nervously. “Your dad did say it was okay for me to dress like this around the house...”

“He did?” asked Paul in surprise. “I mean, you talked to him about it?”

Emily nodded. “And he said it was fine. Okay, I guess we can try the downstairs TV if you like.”

Paul switched off his Xbox, then unplugged it. “Can you take this down to the living room?” he asked her. “I’ll bring the cables and controllers and a game or two.”

She took it from him. “Okay,” she said. She left the room, and descended the stairs a little nervously. She could hear no sounds coming from the living room, so she plucked up her courage, and walked in.

“Amen,” said Mary. Then she and Jacob looked up, as did Brad and Linda. They had apparently all been engaged in a quiet prayer. Their eyes all widened as they saw Emily.

“Oh my!” squeaked Emily. “I’m so sorry! I ... I didn’t realise you were still here!”

“It’s quite all right, Emily,” said Jacob quickly. “It’s my fault,” he added, turning to Brad and Linda. “I told her it was okay to dress like that in the house, given that it’s been so warm. I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologise on our account,” Linda assured him. “The heat can get quite oppressive; I don’t blame Emily a bit.”

“This is what I sleep in,” said Emily awkwardly, feeling further explanation was needed. “I wouldn’t dress this way normally; I just got ready for bed early.”

“Completely understandable,” said Brad kindly. “What’s that you’re carrying?”

“Oh, this is Paul’s Xbox,” said Emily, her cheeks by now very red. “Something’s wrong with his TV; he was hoping to maybe use this one down here...”

“Certainly!” said Jacob. “We’re not using it, and I think our meeting is pretty much done...”

“Yes, indeed,” said Brad. “Sorry for prolonging it, Jacob and Mary, but I do appreciate you listening to me ramble on, and for your advice.”

“You’re most welcome,” said Jacob.

Paul had now entered the room behind Emily. “Oh!” he said.

“It’s okay, Paul, you can come and set up,” said Jacob. “We’re done with our meeting.”

Paul grinned happily. “Okay Emily, just pop the console down next to the TV please,” he said.

As Emily walked over to the television, all eyes in the room followed her. “My goodness, what I wouldn’t give for a figure like yours!” remarked Linda.

“You and me both!” agreed Mary.

Emily blushed to the roots of her hair. “Um, thank you!” she said, as she put the Xbox down.

“Remember not having cellulite?” Linda asked.

“No!” said Mary. “But then I was never thin like you.”

Emily turned around and clasped her hands in front of her panties. “Maybe I should go and put something on,” she ventured.

“No no, don’t worry, we’re leaving,” said Linda, getting to her feet. “Sorry if we embarrassed you, Emily.”

“Oh no, you didn’t at all,” said Emily hastily. “I just ... I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. And I definitely don’t mean to drive you away!”

“Awww, you’re very sweet,” said Linda. “You’re not driving us away; we’ve imposed on Jacob and Mary’s hospitality long enough. But it was lovely meeting you.”

“Yes!” Brad agreed, getting up as well. “If you’re ever in need of driving lessons, Emily, look me up. I’ll give you the Friends and Family discount.”

“Oh, you’re a driving instructor?” asked Emily.

“Best in the city!” he said proudly. “I’m guessing you’ve passed your exam already, though...”

“Actually I haven’t,” Emily admitted, “to my shame. So I might just have need of your services!”

Brad pulled a wallet out of his pocket, then fished out of it a business card. “If you do, give me a call,” he said.

Emily took the card. “Thank you!” she said.

Paul had by now plugged the Xbox in and switched it on. As the television screen turned green, he said, “We’re in business!”

“Off we go then,” said Linda. “Bye Paul! Bye Emily!”

“Bye!” said Emily.

As Brad and Linda left the room, Emily sat down on the sofa, and Paul joined her. He started up the game, and Emily selected a car. Moments later, they were beginning their first race of the evening.

As she steered her car around the track, Emily felt a stirring in her bowels. They already felt very full – which was strange, because she had emptied them just that morning. Normally she could expect to go two days or more between pooping events, but based on how she felt at the moment, she doubted if she would be able to hold on much longer than a single day. Was something wrong with her? She had, of course, just switched to a new fibre-rich cereal; could that be the explanation?

They played for an hour or so. Then Emily said, “Okay, well, I think I’d better go to bed.”

“Okay,” said Paul. “Thanks for playing with me.”

Emily stood up, turned toward the door, then paused. Paul had not yet asked her for a goodnight kiss. It seemed unlikely that he had forgotten to do so; more likely, he was planning to wait until she was in bed, so that he would have an excuse to come into her room, and perhaps even climb in with her. This thought made her uneasy; it would be better if she could preempt him.

“Um, Paul?” she said. “How about a goodnight kiss?”

Paul grinned. “I’d love one!” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to it all day. But I didn’t think you’d want to do it down here, in case Mom or Dad suddenly walked in.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Well, that’s a good point.”

“Also, I’m not yet ready for bed,” said Paul. “I’m sure you’d prefer it if I brush my teeth first.”

“True, I would,” Emily conceded.

“How about I meet you in your room in a few minutes?” Paul suggested. “Have you brushed your own teeth yet?”

“Not yet,” said Emily. This conversation was not going quite how she had planned.

“All right,” said Paul. “You go on up, then. I’ll wait a few minutes, to give you time to get through the bathroom. I’ll see you in your room shortly.”

“Okay,” said Emily reluctantly. At least she could stay out of bed until after their kiss. “See you soon then.”

She climbed the stairs, entered the bathroom, used the toilet (just to empty her bladder, of course), and brushed her teeth. Then she shut herself in her bedroom, and waited.

It was ten minutes before the door opened, and Paul stepped in. Emily pouted a little. “You didn’t knock,” she said.

Paul shrugged. “It’s not like I was going to catch you naked. You’d already changed for bed.”

“I guess so,” Emily conceded. “Still, it’s polite to knock.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” said Paul. “Now, shall we kiss? You promised me a nice long one, remember?”

“I remember,” said Emily ruefully. “But it was conditional on you keeping your hands off my butt.”

“I will,” Paul assured her.

“All right then,” said Emily, and she spread her arms.

Paul put his arms around her, placed his lips against hers, and began gently sliding his tongue into her mouth. Emily responded, and they slowly tongue-wrestled while Paul ran his hands up and down her back. But then he brought his right hand around in front of her, and grasped hold of her left breast through her thin top.

She pulled her face away from his, gasping. “Paul!” she said reproachfully.

“What?” he replied with a grin. “I’m not grabbing your butt, am I? You didn’t say anything about your boobs.” He gave her breast a gentle squeeze.

“I didn’t think I had to!” said Emily, exasperated. “Stop that – or I’ll tell Nathan!”

Paul pouted. “Awww, don’t do that. Did you ... did you tell him I fondled your butt...?”

“Yes,” admitted Emily.

“You did?” said Paul, looking alarmed. “What did he say? Is he mad at me?”

“No, don’t worry,” replied Emily, with more than a little chagrin. “He actually didn’t seem to mind.”

“Really?” asked Paul in surprise. “So he wouldn’t mind me doing it again?”

“Probably not,” Emily admitted. “But you promised you wouldn’t.”

“True,” said Paul. “But if he doesn’t mind me feeling your butt, I’m sure he won’t mind me doing this.” He resumed squeezing and caressing her breast through her top.

“He might!” Emily threatened him. “You never know!”

“Well, what do you think?” Paul asked, still massaging her breast. “Be honest: do you think he would mind me doing this?”

Emily bit her lip. “I guess ... probably not,” she conceded.

Paul smiled. “Then let’s get back to kissing,” he said. And he leaned forward, and resumed kissing her.

Emily closed her eyes, resigning herself to enduring the remainder of the kiss. In truth, it was not that unpleasant; he was being quite gentle and sensuous with her breast. And she was sure – almost sure – that Nathan would approve.

Encouraged by her lack of resistance, Paul brought his other hand around, and started massaging both breasts together. Emily continued kissing him and did not pull away, so he became even more adventurous, gently pinching and tweaking her hardened nipples through the material of her tank top.

Eventually, however, she brought her hands up, and took hold of his wrists. “Okay, that’s enough,” she said. “You’ve had your goodnight kiss, and more besides. Off you go to bed now.”

Paul grinned. “Okay,” he said. “Goodnight Emily.”

“Goodnight Paul,” Emily replied. Then, as he was heading for the door, she remembered something. “Oh wait!”

“Yes?” he asked, pausing and turning back.

“Can I borrow your phone tomorrow morning?” Emily asked. “I have a job interview, and I’m supposed to be calling the guy when I get to his office building, so he can let me in. But I don’t have a phone!”

“Oh!” said Paul. “When’s the interview? And when will I get it back?”

“It’s at nine o’clock,” she said. “But I’ll probably have to go straight to work at the coffee shop afterwards. So you can come and get my phone from me there, or you can wait until I get home shortly after three...”

Paul thought about this. “I’ll come with you to the interview,” he said. “Once you’re done with my phone, I’ll take it back. If that works for you?”

“Sure!” she said. “Thanks Paul.”

He left her room, and she knelt down to say her prayers. Afterwards, she climbed into bed and turned out the light. Her mind returned to her kiss with Paul, and she shivered. His incredible boldness was actually kind of impressive. Each time they kissed, he was taking more and more liberties. Whatever would he do tomorrow? And the next day? Fighting him off was an effort; it was easier – and not wholly unpleasant – just to give a little ground and let him have his fun. But that way, she knew, led to dangerous places. She reached between her legs, slipping her hand inside her panties. Then there was Diego: what might he do with her, when they were alone together in the dance studio, with no chance of being interrupted? And how about her next massage with Alex? She had little doubt he would convince her to take her panties off. What was he going to do then? She would be at his mercy.

She knew she should not be thinking like this, but Nathan had kind of sanctioned all of this, hadn’t he? He wouldn’t mind if Alex fingered her naked pussy to orgasm, right? If Diego slipped his hands down into the back of her panties while dancing with her? If Paul reached between her legs next time they kissed...

She shuddered, and moaned into her pillow as she climaxed. Then, feeling guilty, she curled up into a foetal position, and stayed that way until she fell asleep.

DAY 5 – SATURDAY

The next morning, her bowels felt very full. ‘Ugh, not yet!’ she thought to herself. Clearly her next poo was going to be a big one, but she did not have time to enjoy it right now. She just hoped she could hold on to it until she got some alone time in the house. If she had to do it in a toilet, that would be a criminal waste of a good poo.

She got up, and braided her hair. Then she put on her coffee shop blouse and skirt. There was no need to change at the coffee shop anymore, now that Mary had seen her outfit, and besides, from what Chet had said, it seemed like this would be a good way to dress for her interview.

She went to the bathroom and emptied her bladder, though it was quite difficult to do so without emptying her bowels too; her poo really wanted to come out. She flushed, washed her hands, then went downstairs. It was only eight o’clock, but Mary was already up and about. “Good morning, dear!” she said. “You’re dressed for work already?”

“Um, actually,” said Emily, “I have to go to a job interview before I start my shift at Cathcart. It’s for an office job. Kind of a secretarial position.”

“Oh!” said Mary in surprise. “Well, that is a bit of news! Well done! Are you sure that uniform is going to be ... suitable ... for your interview...?”

Emily blushed. “According to someone who knows the man who’s interviewing me, this outfit will likely help me get the job.”

“Ah, I see,” said Mary, frowning a little. “One of those types. Well, don’t let him get the idea he can manhandle you, otherwise he’ll be a nightmare to work for.”

Emily nodded. She had arguably already made this mistake with Marv, but the circumstances there were complicated, and Marv was a genuinely nice man. She would be more careful with Blake.

After breakfast, she went upstairs, brushed her teeth, and then knocked on the door of Paul’s room. There was no answer, so she knocked a little harder. “Come in,” Paul mumbled.

Emily opened the door, and entered. Paul was lying on his bed in just his boxer shorts, on his front, half covered by a sheet. He opened a bleary eye. “Oh, good morning Emily.” Then he raised his head, and his eyes widened. “That’s what you wear at the coffee shop?”

“Yes,” Emily admitted, her cheeks reddening. “But Paul, I’ve got my interview first, and I’ll be leaving for that in about twenty minutes.”

“Oh, right,” said Paul, turning himself over.

Emily gasped at the sight of the front of his underwear. “I’ll just let you get dressed!” she said hastily, and she turned and left the room. Had Paul been aware that the penis was erect, and the tip of it was poking out of the hole in his boxer shorts? She hoped not; it would not have been nice of him to display himself to her in so vulgar a fashion.

She knew what penises looked like, of course. Aside from the ones she and her giggling friends had seen on the internet when they were thirteen, she had seen Nathan’s, albeit when it was all small and lying like a little pink mouse inside his underwear. She had wanted to see it when it was erect, but he had always refused to show her. This was not because he was shy, but because he had insisted that she show him her pussy in exchange ... and so far she had not been willing to do that, as it had always seemed to her like a wedding night kind of thing. When Nathan suggested that this meant that seeing his erect cock must be a wedding night thing too, she had to concede that he was probably right.

Paul joined her downstairs about five minutes later, fully dressed. “Let me just grab a bite to eat,” he said, “and then I’ll be ready.”

“At least brush your hair before you go out!” said his mother.

Paul rolled his eyes. “Sure, Mom,” he said.

Soon they were on their way. “I feel so underdressed!” said Emily nervously, as they walked down the street past several pedestrians who blatantly stared at Emily’s chest and legs. “I feel like everyone’s judging me.”

“You look amazing,” said Paul. “Fuck the ... sorry ... screw the haters.”

Emily winced at the language, but she nodded. “Thanks Paul,” she said.

“Honestly, though,” said Paul, “people are just staring because you look so good. I doubt anyone’s having negative thoughts about you. I guess a few insecure women might feel a bit jealous, but nobody could seriously say that you look bad. Because you don’t.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, managing a smile. “I hope Blake thinks so!”

“He’s the guy you’re meeting?”

“Yes,” said Emily.

“Well if he doesn’t give you the job, he’s a dope!” said Paul.

Emily laughed. “Or maybe he just wants someone better qualified than I am,” she said. “I’m pretty sure the only hope I have of getting the job is if he’s swayed by the sight of half-covered breasts and barely-covered legs!”

“I think that probably describes most men,” said Paul. “Though most won’t admit to it. It all depends on whether he’s the kind of guy who will try to suppress his natural instincts in order to make a professional decision, or the kind of guy who’s prepared to sacrifice professionalism for the chance of getting to feast his eyes on a beautiful barely-dressed female body every day.”

Emily bit her lip. “Do I really want to work for the second kind, though?”

“Maybe not,” said Paul. “But if the job appeals to you, take it. He won’t always be your boss, and you’ll get valuable experience in that kind of work – experience that will always be on your résumé.”

Emily looked at him in surprise. “That’s very wise, Paul!” she said. “You’re right – I definitely want this job, and if I happen to get it by showing some skin, then so be it. I’ll just work hard when I’m in the position, and earn it properly after I get it. I just wish I knew whether I’m showing too much, just the right amount, or not enough...”

“Body language,” said Paul. “See where his eyes are. If they stay on your face, he’s doing his best to be professional, so you should stay as modest as you can. If they are constantly on your chest, he’s a boob man, and you should take advantage of that. Maybe lean over his desk, so he gets a better look. If he seems like a leg guy, cross and uncross your legs. Give him a bit of a flash of your panties.”

Emily gasped. “I couldn’t do that!”

“Why not?” asked Paul. “Chances are, with you being in a skirt that short, he’ll catch a glimpse of your panties at some point, if you’re sitting down in front of him. You needn’t make it look deliberate. But it could make him happy enough to offer you the job right then and there.”

Emily shuddered. “It’s not how I want to earn this job,” she said, “but ... oh gosh, I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this!”

“So don’t think about it,” said Paul pragmatically. “Just go with your instincts, be yourself, and I’m sure you’ll do well. You’re a likeable person, you’re pretty as heck, and you’ve got a body like a goddess. Who wouldn’t want to hire you?”

Emily blushed. “Thank you Paul,” she said.

Within eight minutes of leaving the house, they had arrived at the address Chet had given her. It was a large grey cube-shaped building, all concrete and glass, and from the signage she realised it contained several businesses. Innesco, the company Chet and Blake worked for, was apparently located on the fourth floor.

It was ten to nine. “Do you think it’s too early to call him?” Emily wondered aloud.

“Might be best to wait until five to,” said Paul.

They waited five minutes, as passers-by continued to gawk at Emily’s outfit. Some of the other women on the street were dressed pretty much as skimpily as she was, so she was not quite sure why she was getting so much attention.

Paul handed her his phone. “Five to nine,” he said. “Showtime.”

She gulped, and called Blake’s number.

He answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr Butcher?” Emily asked.

“It is,” he replied. “Is this Emily?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m here for an interview...”

“Obviously,” he replied. “I’ll be right down.” Then he hung up.

“All right,” said Emily, handing Paul his phone. “I guess I’m on my own now. Wish me luck!”

“Good luck,” said Paul. “You can do it, Emily. Don’t be nervous. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” said Emily. “Thanks again!”

He smiled, then turned and walked away. A few moments later, the main door of the building opened, and a middle-aged man appeared. He was quite fat, and practically bald, save for a horseshoe of short grey hair running around the back of his head from one temple to the other. He had little piggy eyes, which immediately fixated on Emily’s cleavage. “Well hello!” he said, his lips curling in an undisguised leer. ‘A breast man, then,’ thought Emily. But then his gaze dropped to her thighs. “What a nice outfit!”

“Thanks,” said Emily nervously. He seemed to be sizing her up like a piece of meat, and a strong desire to run away took hold of her.

But then, finally, he looked up at her face. “Chet’s description didn’t do you justice,” he said. “You’re quite the beauty! But what matters is whether you can do the job. Let’s find out, shall we?” He gestured towards the door.

His sudden shift to a more professional demeanour took Emily by surprise. Now he seemed a lot less predatory. “Um, yes,” said Emily, and she walked with him into the building.

They rode the elevator together up to the fourth floor. Emily, in flat shoes, was an inch taller than Blake, but she suspected she was less than half his weight. As they stood facing each other, Blake looked with interest at what he could see of her breasts. “No bra,” he observed. “That’s brave of you.”

Emily’s cheeks burned. “Um, thanks,” she said.

When the elevator doors opened, he led her through a door, past an unoccupied reception desk, and into a maze of office cubes, each of which looked almost identical to the others. Then he walked into a large office through its open door, and took a seat behind a very cluttered desk. “Take a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk.

As Emily sat down, it occurred to her that from where he was sitting, he could not see her lap as his desk was in the way. Whether she crossed her legs or not, therefore, would not matter. She hoped that her chest would be enough to earn her the job ... but what if it was not?

“Do you have a résumé?” Blake asked.

“No,” said Emily, feeling embarrassed. “I’m afraid this opportunity came up rather quickly, and I haven’t had a chance to prepare one.”

He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “All right then, describe your education and experience for me.”

“I was mostly home-schooled,” said Emily, “although I did attend a public school for a couple of years while my mom was sick. That was when I was like eleven through thirteen. I had good teachers though; our community had several teachers that used to work in public education.”

“Community?” asked Blake, frowning.

“Uh yes, it’s a religious community in the village of Oakwood,” Emily explained. “Like Amish, but not quite as strict...”

“Robertines?” Blake inquired.

“Yes!” said Emily. “You’ve heard of us!”

“You don’t look like a Robertine,” said Blake. “Don’t the women all wear long dresses?”

“Yes,” said Emily, staring down at her bare knees. “Before this week I wore long dresses exclusively. But this week has been kind of crazy – my job at the coffee shop has a uniform, and somehow it was either this, or pants and a blouse that was too baggy for me. And I couldn’t wear pants – they’re men’s clothes – so I ended up in this. It’s so outside my comfort zone! But I’ve kind of gotten used to it...”

“Interesting!” said Blake. “So, what office experience have you had?”

“None, I’m afraid,” said Emily, blushing. “The only jobs I’ve had are as a waitress and as a barista. But I have used computers a bit; I had a teacher who was very into computers.”

Blake sighed. “Can you type?”

“I’m a fast typist!” said Emily eagerly. “I can do sixty-six words per minute.”

“That’s very good!” Blake conceded. “How are you with Microsoft Office?”

“I’ve used Outlook and Word,” said Emily. “A little Excel, but not much.”

“Hmm,” said Blake. “This job will require some proficiency in Excel. But I guess you could be taught. Could you manage my calendar? Set up appointments for me? Make sure I don’t have conflicts? That kind of thing?”

“Oh yes, definitely,” Emily said confidently. “I’m very organized.”

Blake grunted. Then he picked up his phone. “Hello, I need to talk to your boss,” he said.

Emily was puzzled for a moment, since he did not appear to have dialled any number. Then she realised what he wanted her to do. “Oh!” she said. She picked up an imaginary phone and held it to her ear. “Certainly sir, but he’s unavailable at the moment. He’ll be free at three o’clock this afternoon; can you please call back then?”

“Three o’clock? I can wait that long!” Blake scowled into his phone. “I need to talk to him right now!”

“I’m sorry sir,” said Emily, “but my boss is a very busy man. I’m sure you can understand that he has a lot of demands on his time. I’m looking at his schedule right now and it’s booked solid through three o’clock...”

“Doesn’t he take a lunch?” Blake demanded. “I’ll talk to him on his lunch break.”

Emily was warming to her theme, and starting to have fun. “He actually has a lunch meeting with the president of the company,” she said earnestly. “I’m sure your call is urgent, and I can sympathize, but I’m afraid three o’clock is the absolute earliest time that Mr Butcher can fit you in.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him at three, then! But have him call me!”

“I can ask him to call you,” said Emily, “but he has a lot of other things on his plate. If you want to make sure you get hold of him, I strongly recommend you call back at three o’clock.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll call back at three!” Blake slammed his phone down. Then he grinned at Emily. “I like your style,” he said. “But you’re seriously under-qualified. Your Office skills remain unproven. Let’s see you type up a memo to all my staff, informing them that road maintenance will be going on for the next two weeks on the street outside, and they’ll have to find alternative places to park.”

“Oh!” said Emily, now a little flustered. “Um...”

Blake got to his feet, and stepped out from behind his desk. “Sit in my chair,” he said.

As Emily got up, she noticed him glance down at her lap, and wondered briefly if he had caught a glimpse of her panties. But she did not let herself dwell on the possibility. She came around the desk, sat in Blake’s chair, and pulled herself forward. She spotted a yellow icon on the taskbar, and when she hovered over it, a little window appeared titled “Inbox – Mailbox – Butcher, Blake”. She clicked it, and his Outlook inbox window appeared. She clicked the “New E-mail” button, and a new message window opened up.

She typed:

“Dear All,

Please note that for the next two weeks there will be road crews working on the street outside this office. This will affect access and parking for those of you accustomed to parking on the street; you are therefore encouraged to make alternate arrangements until the work is complete.

Yours,
Emily

On behalf of Blake Butcher.”

Blake was looking over her shoulder. “Not bad,” he said. “You can type, and your grammar and punctuation are on point. But so can the other candidates I’ve interviewed. Well, three of them anyway. What can you bring to the table that they can’t?”

This was an awful question, and Emily’s stomach clenched. “I ... I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ll work super hard for you, Mr Butcher. I’m ready to learn, and do the best job I can – you wouldn’t ever regret hiring me.”

“That’s all well and good,” said Blake, rubbing his chin, “but the other candidates have expressed similar sentiments. And they come from office backgrounds. Why should I pick you over one of them?”

Emily swallowed nervously. Then, with great reluctance, she played the only card she had. “I ... I was hoping, perhaps ... my revealing clothing might ... appeal to you.”

Blake smiled. “It does,” he said. “But is it a false promise? Is it just to get the job, and then you’re back to covering yourself up? Given your background, obviously that seems like a possibility.”

Emily hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s not a false promise,” she said. “If I get the job ... I’ll continue to wear revealing outfits.”

Blake nodded. “It occurs to me that perhaps, of all the applicants for this position, you might be the only one willing to wear a uniform that I have in mind. Something not entirely dissimilar to what you’re wearing now, in fact, which is what made me think of it. Wearing it would remove the need for me to police your clothing, to make sure you’re living up to your word. Of course, I can’t make that a requirement of the position, so if you’re not prepared to wear such a uniform, just say so, and I’ll go with the candidate I feel is most qualified.”

Emily bit her lip. Naturally she would not be that candidate. “I’m certainly willing to wear a uniform,” she said. “I’m wearing one for my barista job, so it’s nothing new for me.”

“Good!” said Blake. “I used to manage the shop floor, so I know of a good uniform supplier not far from here. It’s called Walker’s...”

“I know it,” said Emily, without enthusiasm. “That’s where I got this uniform.”

“Excellent,” said Blake. “So they already have your measurements? Good! I’ll give them a call right now. I don’t know if they’ll be able to have it ready by Monday, so to be on the safe side, make sure you show up here in a nice and skimpy – but work-appropriate – outfit at nine o’clock on Monday morning.”

“Does this mean I’ve got the job?” asked Emily, her eyes widening.

“It does,” said Blake. “Conditional on one or two things. First, you’ll be making eighteen-fifty an hour – does that work for you?”

“Yes!” said Emily excitedly.

“Your hours will be nine to three,” continued Blake. “That doesn’t include a lunch break; you’ll eat at your desk, as and when you have time.”

“Oh!” said Emily, a little taken aback. “This isn’t a full-time position?”

“Technically, no,” said Blake. “It’s a thirty-hour week. There’s just not enough work to justify a full-time position right now. But at eighteen-fifty an hour, that still works out pretty well over the course of a year. If you can prove your worth, we’ll add more responsibilities, and more hours.”

Emily nodded. “Okay ... and what about, um, benefits?”

“No benefits for part-time employees, sorry,” said Blake. “If and when we add more hours, you’ll start getting health insurance coverage, paid vacation time, and so on. Now, before I can formalize the job offer, I’m going to need you to sign a form. It’s kind of a waiver.”

“Oh?” said Emily. “What kind of waiver?”

“I can’t legally require you to wear revealing clothing,” said Blake. “You’ve agreed to do so, but once you start working here, nothing would prevent you from wearing whatever you like ... and if I were to fire you for doing that, you could sue the company for wrongful termination. The form I want you to sign states that you waive your rights to sue the company or its employees for any perceived mistreatment that you experience here.”

This sounded ominous. “That sounds like people will be able to treat me badly, with impunity!”

“Not quite with impunity,” said Blake. “You can always quit, but if you did, that would be a waste of my time hiring and training you. I want you to be happy and successful here. If you get harassed because of your outfit, or for any other reason, come to me and I’ll deal with it. But without the waiver, and the guarantee it gives me that you’ll stick with the uniform I want you to wear, I’ll have to make a different hiring decision.”

Emily reluctantly nodded. “I’ll sign it,” she said.

“Great!” said Blake. “I’ve got the form right here...” He opened his desk drawer, pulled a form out, and looked at it. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Actually I don’t. This is the wrong form! Crap. I’ll have to get the right one from the records room. Wanna come along? It’ll give me a chance to show you around.”

“Sure!” said Emily. She got up, and followed Blake out of his office. He led her past more cubes, then down a corridor, pointing things out along the way. “That’s the office of the finance director.” “That’s where our HR manager sits.” “Printers – we have several, but these are the ones you’ll be using mostly. One colour, one black and white.” “Map of the office – you can see who sits where. Useful if I need to send you to find someone.” “And here’s the records room.”

He entered a room with a high ceiling, and metal shelving from floor to ceiling on all four sides. The shelves were crammed full of labelled boxes; more boxes were stacked in the centre of the room. A small and rather fragile-looking stepladder stood next to the central stack.

Blake walked over to a box that was sitting at about chest-height on the middle shelf of five, up against the far wall. He rifled through several folders, found the one he was looking for, and carefully inserted into it the form he had pulled from his desk. After some more searching, he tutted in annoyance. “The one I need isn’t here,” he said. He took a step backward, and looked first down, then up. “Aha – that looks more promising!” He pointed to a box on the top shelf, which was labelled ‘Business Ethics and Employee Rights’. Then he looked around, walked over to the stepladder, and picked it up. Carrying it over to the shelving beneath the box he wanted, he set it down, placed one foot on the lowest step ... then changed his mind. “I’m worried this thing might collapse under my weight,” he said. “Would you mind heading up there and looking for Form 836c?”

“Uh, sure,” said Emily, although she immediately realised that if she climbed high enough to see into a box on the top shelf, her skirt would be above the level of Blake’s head. Would he look up at her panties? There was little she could do to stop him if he wanted to ... and he would become the umpteenth man to see them this week.

Biting her lip, she ascended the stepladder. It wobbled, and she gasped anxiously as she clutched its sides.

“Whoa,” said Blake. “This thing’s a bit of a death trap. I’d better hold on to you, for support.” And he placed his hands on her hips, with his thumbs extending back around her buttocks.

“Uh ... thank you,” said Emily, feeling flustered. She reached the top step, and peered down into the box. “Shall I bring this down?”

“No,” said Blake, staring up at her panty-clad buttocks. “It’ll be heavy; we don’t want to have an accident. Just look through the folders; the forms should be in numerical order.”

“Okay,” said Emily uncomfortably. The light from the fluorescent tube in the middle of the room was not pouring much light down inside the box, and she was having to peer closely at each form in order to read its number. This could take her a while, and in the meantime she felt as if she could feel Blake’s eyes roaming leisurely over her bottom. It might just be her imagination, of course.

“It’s kinda hard to maintain this position, with you being so high up,” said Blake. “I’m just going to adjust how I’m supporting you, if you don’t mind. It’ll be easier on my arms.”

“Oh – go ahead,” said Emily. Then she squealed as she felt his palms cupping her buttocks beneath her skirt, his thumbs pressing into the junction of buttock and thigh. “Mr Butcher!”

“Sorry, I know this is a little intimate,” said Blake, not sounding sorry at all. “But I can’t have you falling and injuring yourself before you’ve even started working here! Just find that form quickly, and then you can come down and I can give my arms a rest.”

Feeling intensely embarrassed, Emily flipped through folder after folder as quickly as she could. Then she began to feel a growing pressure in her bowels, as a mammoth turd started trying to force its way out. Clenching her teeth and her buttocks, she desperately attempted to prevent the monster’s egress. Little by little, the pressure abated, until she sighed with relief as it retreated deeper into her rectum.

“You okay up there?” asked Blake.

“Found it!” said Emily jubilantly. “Form 836c, right?”

“That’s the one!” said Blake. “I’d picked up 863c by mistake, and because it was where I was expecting to find your form, I didn’t look too closely at it.”

He finally let go of her buttocks as she climbed back down. “Okay, let’s get back to my office.”

She followed him back through the cube farm to his office, and signed the form after a cursory read-through. It seemed like innocuous, boilerplate stuff, but she could not shake the nagging feeling that she was signing away some pretty important rights. But what choice did she have? It was this, or not get the job. And she really wanted the job!

“Good!” said Blake. “We’ll have a whole lot more paperwork for you to sign on Monday, but this at least will allow me to get started on that stuff. Congratulations, Emily – you just joined the Innesco family.” He extended his hand, and Emily shook it happily.

“Thank you Mr Butcher!” she said. “You won’t regret this decision; I’ll work super hard and do the best job I can.”

“I’m counting on it,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll see you at nine o’clock on Monday morning, then.”

“Yes you will!” said Emily. “Have a good weekend, Mr Butcher!”

“You too, Emily,” he said.

She took the elevator down to the ground floor, left the building, and let out an excited squeal. She was going to work in an office! Her dream! Too bad she would have to wear a revealing outfit, but still ... she would be working at a desk! With a computer! Making important phone calls and sending important emails! It was all so exciting!

And she had almost blown it by pooping in her panties while he was literally holding her bottom in his hands – goodness! What a close call; thank heavens for her strong anal control!

She now found herself torn between two powerful urges: on the one hand, she was very excited to share her news with Nathan – he would be so proud of her! On the other, she was desperate to do a nice big fat poo in her panties ... and she needed somewhere safe in which to do that. The Davises’ house would do, but only if they were out. Failing that, she might be able to make use of a public toilet, although that would be less than satisfactory as she would have to empty out her panties immediately to avoid stinking up the place too badly.

She looked at her watch; it was nine twenty-seven. She had plenty of time before her shift at the coffee shop started; she probably had time to go and see Nathan for a short while, then go home and poop. Making her mind up, she set off for Lansdowne Street.

She arrived about six minutes later, and Nathan let her in. “Guess what!” he said to her excitedly as she entered.

“Um, what?” she said, the wind taken out of her sails.

“We’ve got a manager!” Nathan exclaimed. “Warren and I met with him last night at Lucky’s! He thinks we’ve got a real shot at landing a record deal! He wants to set up some more local gigs, and he wants us to record a video to put on YouTube! He knows a guy who shoots music videos on the cheap. Oh, and he just loved you, Emily! He said you’re our biggest asset. Hey, we’re going places, Baby!”

“That’s awesome!” said Emily, feeling both excited and nervous at the prospect. “Um ... I have news too...”

“Oh?” said Nathan.

“I got the job!” said Emily, though she felt this revelation was a little anticlimactic.

“Oh, congratulations!” said Nathan. “This is the office job, right?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “I’ll be the personal assistant for a man called Blake Butcher, at a company that makes specialty fabrics.”

“Cool!” said Nathan. “It’s not going to interfere with our band plans, is it...?”

“Nathan!” she said in exasperation. “The band is a fun hobby, but we’ve got to make a living and save up to get married! We need jobs! And so far I’ve got two, while you’ve been in the city for how long now? Without getting even one?”

Nathan’s face reddened. “The band isn’t just a hobby!” he said. “This could be my career! Our career! We could be big rock stars!”

He was clearly upset, and Emily realised she had insulted him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pour cold water on your dreams. But being in a band was never part of my plan. It’s fun, yes, but I don’t see a future in it. I don’t want to go on stage night after night, touring all around the country, or the world. I want to settle down in a nice house with you, with a steady income, and raise a family!”

Nathan sighed. “I want that too,” he said, “but rock stars can earn big money, Emily! Sure, it’ll involve some touring ... but we’ll be able to afford a big house, buy everything we and our children need, and we’ll be famous!”

“I don’t want to be famous, Nathan,” said Emily.

“Well ... I do!” said Nathan.

This was potentially a problem. But Emily did not for one moment believe that Nathan, or the band, had what it took to be successful in the music business. They just were not good enough. “Okay, fine,” she said placatingly. “We’ll see where this band thing takes us. But in the meantime, we need an income, and I’m providing that. Until we make enough money from the band to live on, we need to prioritize my job.”

“All right,” said Nathan, nodding. “I’m happy for you, really I am, Baby. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”

“Thanks,” said Emily. Then she smiled. “I’ll have to wear a uniform. And I suspect it’s going to include a pretty short skirt.”

“Yeah?” said Nathan, his interest aroused. “I look forward to seeing it!”

“I’m sure,” said Emily, chuckling. “Anyway, I need to get home. There’s something I need to do before my shift.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Nathan asked curiously.

Emily blushed. “Um ... just ... girl stuff.”

“Oh!” said Nathan, also turning red. “Okay – see you later then. Are we still going shopping together this afternoon?”

“Yes!” said Emily.

They hugged, and kissed, and then she left his apartment and started trotting down the stairwell. But as she descended, pressure began building again in her rectum ... and this time it was worse. The poo seemed determined to come out, and after fighting it for a few seconds, Emily realised to her horror that she could not stop it. Staggering over to the wall at the foot of the stairs, she leaned against it while bracing her legs awkwardly, trying vainly to prevent her anal sphincter from opening up any further. But it was no good, and she gasped in shock as a soft but thick turd started slithering out of her anus and curling up in the seat of her panties.

If she had been safe in an empty house, this would have been a wonderful experience. To be utterly unable to prevent her poo from coming out into her panties was a thrilling concept ... in theory. In practice it was terribly alarming, and she was terrified that someone would come down the stairs behind her or appear through the door to the lobby ahead of her. If someone saw her, her pose would be a dead giveaway, she realised, so she straightened herself up and tried to adopt a nonchalant stance, while her poo continued to slide out and the bulge in her panties got bigger and bigger.

This was a nightmare! The smell was filling the air around her, and no stance was nonchalant enough to cover for that. She had to get out of here! For a moment she considered going back upstairs to Nathan’s apartment, but he was the last person that she wanted to see her like this. He had no clue that she liked to poop in her panties, and she very much wanted to keep it that way.

Her poo was no longer forcing its way out, but it was still holding her anus open, and there was more to come. With her panties already smelly and messy, she figured a little more would not hurt, so she gave a long, hard push, and finished her poo. Then she reached back with her hand, and felt the warm soft bulge in the material of her panties. She gasped; it was huge! It was even, she was fairly sure, sagging down beneath the hem of her skirt. This was bad. Amazing, and kind of awesome in safer circumstances, but right now it felt frighteningly perilous.

There were people in the lobby. Maybe she could find a shared toilet somewhere on a higher floor. Maybe she could climb all the way up to the top of the building and get out on to the roof; she would likely find herself alone up there. The more she thought about this, the better the idea seemed. Turning around, she began climbing the stairs again ... carefully, so as not to lose any poo out of her panties.

It was hard work! The building had eleven floors, and that was a lot of steps to climb, particularly with full panties. But when she reached the top, and saw a door with a sign next to it saying “Roof Access”, she almost laughed with relief. But then her stomach knotted; what if it was locked?

She tried it. The handle turned; the door opened. Quickly she went through it, and found herself facing a flight of steps. There was a light switch, which she flicked, turning on a dim bulb that hung from the low ceiling. She ascended the steps, letting the door close behind her, and soon came to another door. This one was already ajar, propped open by two-thirds of a broken red brick.

Emily cautiously emerged from the doorway, and found herself on a broad flat roof. It was largely featureless except for a ventilation duct, the brick-built rectangular structure in which she had climbed up here, and an iron railing around the edge. She looked around, but could see nobody. Relieved, she let the door close behind her, stopping when it hit the brick.

A tubby, dark brown face appeared around the corner of the brick structure. It belonged to a boy of about fourteen or fifteen; he looked worried, but relaxed a little when he saw her. “Who are you?” he asked, his eyes widening as they dropped to her cleavage, and then to her legs.

Emily was inclined to flee, but then she noticed his tear-stained cheeks and bruised eye. “I just thought I could hide out here for a bit,” she sheepishly admitted. “You too, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah,” said the boy glumly. He was truly rotund; way fatter than Blake. “Life’s not much fun when you’re fat and black in a mostly white neighbourhood. But who the hell are you hiding from?”

Emily blushed. “Everyone, I guess,” she said.

He sniffed the air. “Ugh – is that you?” He seemed startled, but not in a judgmental way.

Emily bit her lip. “Yeah,” she said. “I kind of had an accident.”

“Oh!” said the boy. “Well ... how come you’re here though? You live in the building?”

“My fiancé does. But I don’t want him to know about ... this.”

The boy nodded. “You going to just ... what, leave it up here?”

“I don’t know,” Emily confessed. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Maybe.”

The boy chuckled. “Well, I don’t care. I don’t usually have company up here, but you’re welcome to hang out and do what you need to do. I’m just up here until my dad leaves, or my mom gets home.”

“Did your dad give you that bruise?” Emily asked him.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Of course it matters!” said Emily. “If your dad’s hitting you ... that’s terrible!”

“Why?” said the boy, with another shrug. “Nobody cares.”

“I care!” Emily protested. “And I only just met you! Surely your mom cares too?”

“I guess she does,” he replied. “Dad doesn’t hit me when she’s around anyway.” He eyed Emily’s cleavage appreciatively. “My name’s Lenny.”

“Pleased to meet you Lenny,” said Emily. “I’m Emily. So ... what do you like to do with your time, besides come up here to escape from your dad?”

Lenny chuckled. “Come on round here,” he said, walking around the side of the brick structure. He sat down with his back to the wall, and patted the tar roof surface next to him. “I’ll tell you something cool about me, if you’ll tell me something cool about you.”

Emily hesitated. The thought of sitting down on her voluminous poo was actually quite appealing, but she did not want to pleasure herself in front of an underage boy. Still, maybe just sitting wouldn’t hurt...

“I ... I really shouldn’t,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “It’ll make quite a mess.”

“Oh yeah,” said Lenny, grinning. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that. Do you want me to leave, so you can, I dunno, do what you need to do?”

“Oh no,” Emily assured him. “I wouldn’t dream of making you leave your roof. It’s your safe space. That’s kind of sacred, right?”

Lenny smiled. “You’re nice,” he said. “And I’m sure you’re in a hurry to clean yourself up. You don’t need to hang out with me. I’ll just stay here; you can do what you need to do over on the other side. I won’t look, I promise.”

Emily smiled. “I’m in no hurry,” she assured him. “I’d like to hang out with you and talk. I mean, if the smell’s bothering you I can go away...”

“It’s not bothering me,” said Lenny. “But if I were you, I’d be freaking out about having poop in my underwear. I don’t know how you’re being so calm about it.”

“I just have a strong constitution, I guess,” said Emily, looking down at her shoes.

“Well, okay then!” said Lenny. “So, I’ll go first if you like. Here it is – a cool thing about me. I can’t wear gloves.”

Emily stared at him. “Why not? Is it ... an allergy thing?”

“Nope!” said Lenny. “Check this out.” He held up his left hand, and spread his fingers wide apart.

“Whoa!” Emily whispered. Lenny’s middle and ring finger were practically webbed; the skin connecting them came up almost as far as the first knuckle. “That’s cool! Is your other hand the same?”

“Close, but not quite,” said Lenny, holding his right hand up. The skin between the same two fingers was slightly webbed, but not nearly to the same extent. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me something cool about you.”

“Um ... I’m in a rock band?” said Emily.

“Sweet!” Lenny nodded. “Do you play guitar?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I’m just a backing singer. And a dancer!”

“You dance?” inquired Lenny. “Cool! Can you show me some moves?”

Emily smiled. “I guess so.” She sang in her head the opening riff to Hometown Girl, and performed a few steps in time to the silent music, hoping to impress Lenny with her newly acquired skills.

But he was staring at her skirt, whose hem was approximately at his eye level. “Damn, Emily, how much poop you got in there anyway?”

Emily stopped dancing, and tugged ineffectually at the hem of her skirt. “Please don’t be mean,” she said, embarrassed.

“I’m not!” he assured her. “I’m just ... kind of ... amazed!”

Emily bit her lip. “Well yeah, it was a pretty big accident,” she said.

“Can I ... see?” he asked curiously. “I mean, I just caught a glimpse, but now I wanna see just how much poop is in there. Please?”

Emily shivered. Another man – almost – who had now seen her panties. And when they were full of poo! And he wanted to see more... “I don’t think I should be showing you my panties, Lenny,” she said uncomfortably. “I mean ... how old are you?”

“Seventeen,” said Lenny.

“Really?” she inquired sceptically.

He pouted. “I know, I know, I’m a late bloomer, on top of everything else. It sucks.”

Emily hesitated. She loved the sight of her own panties full of poo, and the idea of showing them off to a strange young man had a certain naughty appeal ... but what if he was just grossed out? What if he told her how disgusting it was, how she should be ashamed of herself, how her behaviour was simply disgraceful, how she ought to be put over someone’s knee...

She shivered, then she turned around, and hiked up her skirt a few inches, revealing most of the huge discoloured bulge in her panties. Depending on Lenny’s reaction, she was prepared to pull her skirt back down immediately, and possibly even make a run for it.

“Whoa, that’s humongous!” gasped Lenny. “How did you even manage to poop all that?”

“I don’t know,” Emily admitted. “I think it might be something to do with my new cereal.”

“What cereal could do that?” inquired Lenny incredulously.

“Uh, it’s called Branagram,” said Emily.

Lenny pulled out his phone. “Well let’s look it up,” he said. “Branagram... Side-effects... Aha, here we are. Yeah, oh man, it says here you should only eat it in small quantities as it pretty much triples the size of your poop. Soluble fibre... Highly concentrated... Apparently there’s a warning label on the cereal box...”

“Is there?” said Emily. “Oh, I must have missed that!”

“I’m not surprised you had an accident,” said Lenny. “Damn, that must have hurt coming out though!”

“No, not at all,” said Emily, pulling her skirt back down and turning around. “It was actually ... well, never mind.”

“Thanks for showing me your panties,” said Lenny, grinning. “That was totally hot.”

“You’re welcome,” said Emily, blushing anew. “Sorry they’re full of poop!”

“Don’t be sorry!” said Lenny. “It was amazing!” He chuckled. “I never met anyone like you before, Emily. I’m glad you came up here.”

“Me too,” she said with a smile.

“Lucky for us both that you pooped in your panties!” Lenny remarked mischievously.

Emily giggled. “I guess so!”

Lenny grinned. “Come on, have a seat,” he said, patting the roof surface next to him again. “Your panties are ruined anyway; it won’t make much difference. And you’ll be more comfortable; heck, it’ll be like sitting on a cushion!”

In truth, Emily badly wanted to sit down in all this poo, and Lenny’s justification was all the excuse she needed. “Okay,” she said, and she carefully sat down next to him, hiking her skirt up to her hips so that it would not get messy. Lenny had already seen her panties; it did not matter much if he saw them again.

She shivered as her buttocks and pussy sank into the squishy poo, and her breath caught in her throat. This was nice...

Lenny stared at her, grinning. “Was this really an accident?” he inquired. “I’m starting to think you’re enjoying it.”

“It truly was an accident!” Emily insisted. “But ... I guess it is kind of enjoyable...”

Lenny laughed. “You’re weird,” he said. “But in a good way!” he added hastily, seeing her anxious expression. “You’re probably the hottest girl I’ve ever met, Emily, and yet you’re talking to a loser like me. You could be into necrophilia and I’d still think you’re awesome.”

“What’s necrophilia?” Emily asked.

He stared at her again. “Never mind!” he said. “Just, please understand that I think you rock, and I swear I won’t tell anyone about your accident, or anything. I just really hope I’ll get to see you again sometime.”

“I’d like that too,” she replied. “You’re a nice boy, Lenny.”

“I’m in apartment 56, if you ever want to visit,” he said hopefully.

Emily smiled. “Maybe I will!” She subtly undulated her hips, so that her poo slid and oozed around her pussy. Then she stopped; she did not want to get too carried away in front of Lenny.

They continued to talk for a few more minutes, until Emily glanced at her watch and noticed the time. “Oh!” she said. “I have to clean up! I’ve got to be at work at eleven! Oh gosh ... how am I going to get clean?”

Lenny pulled a wad of tissues out of his pocket. “You can use these,” he said. “I get nosebleeds a lot, so I always carry a bunch of tissues.”

“Oh Lenny, you’re a lifesaver!” said Emily gratefully, taking the tissues. “Uh ... I guess I’ll go round the other side of this thing...”

“I won’t look,” said Lenny. “I promise.”

It took Emily a few minutes to remove her panties and wipe herself clean. Then she very carefully made an extremely smelly parcel out of her panties, with the poo and the messy tissues inside. There was, unfortunately, no question of saving the panties ... but what should she do with them?

“What do you think I should do with this?” she called out to Lenny.

“Are you decent?” he asked her. “I may have an idea...”

“Decent is a relative term,” said Emily ruefully. “But my skirt’s back in place, at least.”

Lenny came around the corner. “There’s a dumpster in the alley down on this side,” he said. “If you aim right, you can probably drop it right in.”

Emily looked over the railing, and her stomach lurched at the height. “Oh goodness!” she said. “Okay, I see it.” She moved a few feet farther down the railing. “I think I’m over it now.”

“Go ahead and drop it then,” said Lenny.

Emily paused for a moment, then she let go. Her panties plummeted downward, then caught the air and billowed open, releasing tissues that drifted downward at a slower rate. The panties themselves hit the ground with an inaudible thud, about two feet to the right of the dumpster.

“Oh no!” squealed Emily.

Lenny snorted with laughter. “Never mind,” he said. “I’ve seen worse things in that alley.”

“Oh but I can’t leave them like that!” said Emily, aghast. “It’s my mess; I need to clean it up!”

Lenny shuddered. “I really wouldn’t bother,” he said. “Right now, nobody knows who caused the mess. If you go down there and start picking it up, someone might see you and figure out what you’re doing. Besides, it’s ten to eleven. Don’t you need to get to your job?”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Yes! Oh dear – I guess I’ll have to leave the mess as it is. I’m so sorry! Ugh – I’ve got to run. Bye Lenny – I’m glad to have met you!”

“Me too!” said Lenny. “Bye Emily.”

Emily re-entered the brick structure, hurried down the stairs, through the door at the bottom, and was about to start down the next flight of stairs when it occurred to her that she might as well take the elevator this time. She pushed the button, and waited.

It seemed to take forever to arrive. When she finally reached the ground floor, it was already three minutes to eleven. She hurried down the street, crossed at the lights, and jogged the last hundred yards or so, panting as she entered Cathcart Coffee on the dot of eleven o’clock.

“Changed already?” said Trish, as Emily stepped behind the counter. “That’s a first. Got tired of giving Marv a free show, did you?”

“I ... what ... I didn’t give Marv a free anything!” spluttered Emily indignantly.

“Whatever,” said Trish, smirking. “Come on – next order’s yours.”

Emily was acutely conscious of the fact that she was naked beneath her skirt, and she kept checking and pulling at her hem in between serving customers ... so much so that Trish eventually commented on it.

“What’s the matter with you today?” she asked. “It’s not your first time wearing that skirt.”

‘No, but it’ll be the last!’ Emily wanted to respond. But she just muttered something about the skirt feeling uncomfortable today, and hoped Trish would say no more about it. After that, she tried not to be so paranoid about it. But she was extremely careful, when wiping down tables, not to bend over too far, nor to bend over at all with anybody directly behind her. The cool air wafting against her pussy and buttocks whenever she walked around was a continual reminder of her lack of underwear.

All seemed to be going well, until two o’clock arrived, and disaster struck. Marv, it turned out, did not generally come in on Saturdays, so Emily was unable to break the news to him about her new job and having to quit the coffee shop. Anticipating a strong negative reaction from Trish, she waited until just before two o’clock, when Cassidy was due to arrive and Trish was due to leave for the day.

“Um, Trish?” she said. “I ... I kind of have some news...”

“Oh yes?” said Trish.

“I got that job,” said Emily. “I start Monday. So, um, this is my last day...”

“What the fuck!” exclaimed Trish. “You just started here! We put time and effort into training you! And now you’re just going to quit with no notice?”

“I’m so sorry,” said Emily. “And I’m so grateful for the training you’ve given me. But it’s an office job, the money’s good, and I ... it was too good an opportunity to pass up...”

“Fine!” snapped Trish. “Whatever. Let us down. Let Marv down. Fuck off to your office job.”

“Trish!” said Emily, stunned and hurt. “Please – I didn’t do this to upset you. I’m sorry you feel I’ve let you down...”

“Just go!” said Trish. “Now!”

“But ... I’m on until three...”

“Go!” Trish scowled. “I’ll finish off your shift. Just get out of here!”

Emily hesitated, then nodded sadly. “All right, if that’s what you want.” She picked up her bag, then she came out from behind the counter, and headed toward the door.

“Just a minute!” said Trish. “Where do you think you’re going with that uniform? It’s the property of the coffee shop, you know!”

“What?” said Emily, alarmed. “I’ll bring it back, of course!”

“I’m not taking that chance!” said Trish fiercely. “You’re not leaving here with it. Take it off!”

Emily’s jaw dropped, as the attention of the two remaining customers (both male) became laser-focused on her. “You ... you can’t be serious!” she gasped.

“I’m totally serious!” said Trish, her eyes flashing. “Come on – blouse and skirt please.” She held out her hand expectantly.

“B...but I’m not wearing anything under them!” Emily stammered desperately.

“Nothing at all?” asked Trish in surprise. “Well then, this will be interesting!”

“Can I at least use the phone to call my fiancé to bring me an outfit to change into?” asked Emily.

“Nope!” said Trish, now smirking. “I don’t want you hanging around here while you wait for a pickup. You’re barred. I want you to leave, now. But without the uniform.”

Tears sprang to Emily’s eyes. “But how am I supposed to get home?” she asked in a tragic whisper. “I can’t walk down the streets naked!”

“Oh, I think you can!” said Trish airily. “I’m actually looking forward to watching that from the window.”

“I’ll drive you home,” said one of the male customers suddenly. “I’m parked just down the street, but I’ll bring my car right to the door.” He was middle-aged, with a beard and glasses, and a flannel shirt and brown trousers. He seemed nice enough, and Emily latched on to the offer.

“Thank you!” she said.

The man downed the last of his coffee, then he got up, and walked over to Emily. Looking over at Trish, he said, “You’re one heartless bitch, Trish.” Then he smiled at Emily. “My name’s Gordon. I drive a green Prius. When you see it pull up outside, come out and hop right in.”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully.

“Aww, you’re no fun, Gordon,” said Trish, disgruntled.

He glared at her, then he left the shop. Emily watched him walk away, feeling anxious. Then, behind her, Trish cleared her throat. “Come on then – strip!”

Emily glanced over at the other man, who was staring at her with a broad grin on his face. He was in his thirties, had very short hair – almost shaved – and wore a dirt-stained t-shirt and jeans. Turning away from him, Emily put her bag down, then whimpered as she undid the last three buttons of her blouse. She took it off, then she unzipped her skirt and pulled it down. Wordlessly, she handed both garments to Trish, then she covered her pussy with one hand, and held her other arm over her breasts.

The man behind her wolf-whistled. “Aww, turn around, Honey!” he said.

Emily ignored him. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Turn around for the nice gentleman, Emily,” sneered Trish nastily.

“I don’t work for you anymore,” Emily muttered.

“Excuse me?” said Trish.

“I don’t work for you anymore!” said Emily, more loudly. “You can’t tell me what to do!”

Trish, her face reddening, marched out from behind the counter. Grabbing Emily’s arm, she pulled her forcibly towards the door. “Out!” she yelled. “Right now!”

Emily squealed, and struggled to keep her breasts and pussy covered as she was practically dragged to the front door. Trish opened it with one hand, then she pushed Emily through it, and slammed it shut behind her. A second later, she opened the door again and threw Emily’s bag outside. Emily crouched, and uncovered her pussy briefly so she could pick up her bag. Then she stood up, covering her pussy again, and looked around desperately.

A car screeched to a halt behind another car that had slowed down abruptly so its driver could gawk at Emily. Pedestrians on both sides of the street stopped to stare at her. There was another squeal of hastily applied brakes. Emily cowered back against the window of the coffee shop, looking fearfully from one startled face to another.

Then a green car pulled up next to her, and its passenger door opened as the driver leaned over to push it. It was Gordon. “Come on, jump in!” he said.

Emily quickly climbed into the passenger seat, and closed the door after her. Gordon drove off, and Emily hastily pulled her seat belt across her body and plugged it in, trying to leave her breasts uncovered for as short a time as possible while she did so.

Gordon glanced over at her breasts before she managed to cover them again, and grinned. “So, where am I taking you?”

“Back that way!” said Emily, jerking her head backward. “I can direct you. It’s very close.”

“I’ll have to turn around somewhere,” said Gordon, driving straight through one set of traffic lights, then slowing down as the next set turned red. “I’ll turn right here. Oh no, wait, that’s a one-way street. I’ll have to go straight.”

Emily groaned. They were getting farther and farther away from home. Then she tried to shrink back into her seat as a stream of pedestrians crossed the road directly in front of Gordon’s car. Some of them glanced at her, did a double-take, then stared wide-eyed at her. Gordon chuckled. “Don’t worry about them,” he said. “You’re safe in here. I’ll get you home shortly.”

Then Emily spotted the street sign for the road on the left. “Lansdowne Street!” she said. “Can you turn down there? My fiancé lives in an apartment building just down there!”

“I can’t; I’d have to cross a lane of traffic,” said Gordon. “But I can take the next three rights, and bring us back down Lansdowne.”

Emily groaned. “Okay,” she said.

The lights turned green, and Gordon set off again. At the next junction, he turned right, and then he turned right again, and again. True to his word, this brought them back to the same set of traffic lights, but this time pointing down Lansdowne Street. The lights changed to green just as they were approaching, so Gordon, having waited for the car in front to get moving, did not even have to stop.

“There it is,” said Emily, pointing. Then, when Gordon pulled up against the kerb, she asked, “Could you please hit the button for apartment 23? Say you’re here to see Nathan.”

“Okay,” said Gordon. He got out of the car, walked over to the door, and hit the button. Emily could see him talking, but could not hear him. Then he pushed the door open, turned, and gave her a thumbs-up.

Emily unfastened her seatbelt, opened the door, and climbed out of the car, her hand and arm clamped firmly over her breasts and pussy. She bolted for the door of the apartment building, right past an astonished-looking woman out walking with her two children. “Thanks!” she gasped at Gordon, before slipping inside.

The lobby was empty, by a stroke of good fortune, so she hurried straight for the door to the staircase, and began to ascend. She reached the door of apartment 23 without encountering anybody, and hammered on it with her right fist, before slapping her hand back over her pussy. After a few seconds, the door had not yet been opened, so she raised her hand to try again.

The door abruptly opened, and there was Mack. He stared at her, then his eyes dropped to her pussy just before she covered it with her hand. “Help!” she squealed. “Let me in!”

He stood aside, and she rushed past him. “Where’s Nathan?” she demanded.

Mack closed the door, then turned to admire Emily’s naked bottom. “He’s out,” he said. “I told your friend that. What happened to you? Are you okay?”

Emily turned to face him, her cheeks burning red. “It’s a long story,” she said. “I’m just going to go and wait in Nathan’s room, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, go ahead!” said Mack. “But Jeez, what happened? Do I need to call the police?”

“No!” said Emily. “I’m fine, really – just a bit traumatized from being naked in public!”

“I’m sure!” said Mack, chuckling. “That sucks – I’m sorry. Can I get you anything? A drink maybe?”

“No, I’m fine, really!” said Emily. “But thank you for the offer. I’m just going to...”

“How did it happen, though?” inquired Mack, his eyes roving up and down her body. “How does a person lose all their clothes? Except for your shoes, obviously.”

“It was Trish at the coffee shop!” said Emily, indignation welling up inside her. “I told her I’d got a new job, and she got so mad! I don’t know why. But she said my uniform belonged to the coffee shop and I couldn’t leave without it! She made me undress, right there in front of her and two customers!”

“No way!” said Mack, seeming both shocked and impressed. “Isn’t that illegal? How could she do that?”

“I don’t know!” said Emily. Mack’s incredulous reaction, though somewhat lacking in sympathy, was nevertheless comforting; it validated her sense of outrage at Trish.

“Did she make you take off your underwear too?” Mack inquired. “They surely weren’t part of your uniform!”

“No,” admitted Emily. “Well, I hadn’t been wearing a bra with my work uniform because the blouse was too tight for one. And my panties ... well, they got lost for another reason that I don’t want to go into.”

“Fair enough,” said Mack. “But heck! You work at Cathcart, right? Worked, I should say. Well let me tell you, they won’t be getting any more of my business! I had no idea that woman was so mean.”

“Thanks Mack,” said Emily appreciatively. “Anyway, I should...”

“Any decent person would be happy for a colleague who got a new job!” Mack continued. “Don’t you think? Speaking of which, congratulations on the new job! What is it?”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “I’ll be happy to tell you about it, but maybe you could let me put some clothes on first...?”

“Oh, of course!” said Mack. “Here I am, rabbiting on and on, while you’re still naked and desperate for clothes! Well sure – does Nathan have anything for you to wear? All his clothes will be guy stuff. I think Sasha might be a better bet for a dress or something...”

“Oh!” said Emily. Mack had made a very good point. “Is Sasha here?”

“No,” said Mack, “but I bet she’s left some of her clothes in Clive’s room. Want me to go look?”

“Um,” said Emily uncertainly, “without checking with her? I don’t know...”

“It’s an emergency, right?” said Mack. “I’m sure Sasha would be only too happy to lend you something. You can apologise to her later, but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. Just wait here – have a seat on the couch. I’ll go check her things.”

As he disappeared into Clive’s bedroom, Emily sat down on the couch, shivering a little. Not from cold, but because somehow she had just had an entire conversation with Mack while naked. She picked up a cushion, and hugged it to her chest. It was large enough to sit on her thighs while covering her breasts, so it covered her pussy as well. This was better, though a rather inadequate substitute for clothing. She hoped Mack would find something.

When he emerged, however, he was empty-handed. “Nothing!” he said apologetically. “I guess Sasha doesn’t keep any clothes here after all. Sorry about that.”

Emily huddled against her cushion. “Never mind, thanks for trying,” she said.

“How did you even get here?” Mack asked. “It occurred to me to wonder why I was in there looking for clothes. I mean, after you took off your clothes in the coffee shop ... did you just run here naked?”

“No!” said Emily with a shudder. “A customer gave me a ride here. I did climb the stairs naked though; that was bad enough!”

“Man!” said Mack, shaking his head. “I can’t even imagine doing that. You’re a brave woman, Emily!”

Emily blushed. “I did what I had to do, I guess,” she said.

“Well listen,” said Mack. “Nathan will be back soon, and he can either lend you something to wear, or run over to your place to fetch some of your own clothes. In the meantime, if you don’t mind some company ... would you care to play a video game with me while we wait for Nathan? It might cheer you up a bit.”

Emily would much rather have waited for Nathan in his room, but Mack was being kind to her, and she did not want to seem unappreciative. “Thanks Mack,” she said. “That sounds fun, but I should really put something on first...”

“Oh, that cushion’s doing a good job of keeping the important bits covered,” said Mack cheerfully. “And I’ll be watching the screen anyway. What video games do you like to play?”

“I hadn’t really played any before this week,” said Emily. “But this week I’ve been enjoying two games: Fists of Fire Ultra and Vintage Racers.”

“Ah yes, not bad, not bad,” said Mack. “I don’t have either of those because I don’t have an Xbox. Nathan has an Xbox in his room but I don’t think he has those games either. I have a PlayStation hooked up to this TV; wanna try something new? I think you might enjoy Kaiju Clash; it’s a fighting game like Fists of Fire, but instead of people fighting, it’s giant monsters.”

“Sure, I’ll give it a try,” said Emily, resigning herself to remaining naked until Nathan returned. “I’ll probably be terrible at it though!”

“Great!” said Mack, walking over to the console. He popped the game in, and switched on the television. “Are you sure I can’t get you a drink? It’s super hot in here. We have lemonade...”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Actually yes please, I’d love some lemonade.”

“Awesome,” said Mack. “How about something to eat, too? Are you hungry?”

“I am,” Emily confessed. “I haven’t had any lunch yet.”

“Well let me take care of that!” said Mack. “How does a cheese and pickle sandwich sound? Or PB and J?”

“Cheese and pickle sounds great!” said Emily. “Thank you Mack!”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile. He fetched her a tall glass of lemonade, then went back into the kitchen to make her sandwich.

When he returned with it, she ate while he explained to her the game mechanics of Kaiju Clash. Then they began to play the game, and while Emily found it quite fun, she did not like it as much as Fists of Fire Ultra, which felt more based in reality.

Then the door opened, and Nathan walked in, carrying grocery bags. He stopped and stared at his fiancée, sitting naked on the couch with a cushion standing upright on her lap, covering her breasts and pussy, playing a video game with one of his roommates.

Emily dropped her controller and hugged her cushion. “Hi Nathan,” she said sheepishly.

“What’s going on?” asked Nathan, startled and confused.

“I need some clothes!” said Emily, sounding aggrieved. “Trish made me take off my uniform in the coffee shop!”

“What??” said Nathan.

Emily told him the whole story, except for the reason why she had lost her panties, which she was deliberately vague about. Nathan, however, was not as supportive as she had hoped.

“Oh man!” he said, grinning. “What an adventure! I mean, I’m sorry you had such a rough time, and that Trish was so horrible ... but looking back on it a few years from now, I’m sure you’ll see the funny side. I kind of wish I’d seen it!”

“Nathan!” she said reproachfully. “It was awful!”

“I know, I know,” he said soothingly. “But you’re safe now, that’s the main thing. Thanks for looking after her, Mack.”

“My pleasure,” said Mack.

“Let me just get these things in the fridge,” said Nathan, “and I’ll go and find something for you to wear, Emily.”

“Thank you!” said Emily.

Once he had put the groceries away, Nathan headed for his bedroom. “Not sure what I have that you’ll be comfortable in,” he remarked. “I suppose you still won’t wear pants...”

“I’ll wear whatever I have to, Nathan!” said Emily, slightly exasperated. But then her aversion to men’s clothes kicked in, and she added, “Still, if you can figure out an outfit that doesn’t involve pants, or an obviously male shirt, that would be ideal...”

“Hmm,” said Nathan. “That might be tricky. I’d give you a long t-shirt to wear as a dress, but I’m pretty sure all my t-shirts would be too short for that.”

“Just do your best!” said Emily.

Nathan disappeared into his bedroom. Emily would have followed him, so that she could have some input into his choice of clothing for her, but doing so would mean getting up from the couch and exposing at least her naked bottom again. When Mack suggested resuming their game, she shrugged and said, “Sure.”

When Nathan emerged, he was carrying a large grey sweatshirt. “Found this!” he said. “It’s longer than any of my t-shirts; you could wear it as a dress!”

“It doesn’t look like a dress,” said Emily anxiously. “And it’s still very short!”

“It’ll do for the short walk back to the Davises’, won’t it?” said Nathan. “Then you can put on whatever you want.”

“I don’t know ... I guess so...” said Emily dubiously. “As long as it covers my butt...”

Nathan handed it to her. “Try it and see,” he said.

Emily pulled it over her head, slid her arms into the sleeves, then tugged the front down between her cushion and her breasts. Then, setting the cushion aside, she cautiously got up, clutching the sides of the sweatshirt. Mack and Nathan both stared eagerly at the hem of the sweatshirt, but it did indeed cover her bottom ... just.

“There you go!” said Nathan. “Told you so. Now let’s get you home.”

Emily pursed her lips, then nodded. “Thanks for the game, Mack. And for my lunch!”

“You’re welcome,” said Mack. “I hope the rest of your day goes better!”

“Me too!” Emily agreed.

She and Nathan left the apartment, and headed down the stairs to the lobby. As they exited the building, Emily said, “Are we still going shopping together afterwards? I really need to get a phone. And some high heels!”

Nathan grinned. “I’d like to see you in heels,” he said. “Can we maybe get you some miniskirts too...? I love seeing your legs ... I think it would be awesome if you wore miniskirts more often.”

“I do seem to be getting used to them,” Emily admitted. “Mainly because circumstances somehow keep requiring me to wear them!”

“What if,” said Nathan cautiously, “you wore miniskirts ... exclusively?”

Emily pouted. “Nathan, I know you like seeing my legs, but I’ve got some really nice long skirts! It would be a shame if I stopped wearing them.”

“Maybe save them for a special occasion?” said Nathan hopefully. “Please Emily; I’d really love it if you habitually wore miniskirts ... like, you know, it’s your default. You have such nice legs – everyone says so – and all the guys are super jealous of me and wish they had a girl like you...”

Emily laughed. “So your friends all want to marry me too, huh?” she teased him. “Does any of them have a steady job...? Perhaps I should reconsider my options...”

Nathan looked shocked. “I ... uh ... don’t say that...”

Emily laughed again. “Oh Nathan, your face! Don’t worry, I’m not reconsidering anything. I’m just kidding.” She sighed. “If it really means so much to you, I guess I can wear more miniskirts. Like I said, I’ve kind of gotten accustomed to wearing them. Weird; I’ve only been wearing them for less than a week!”

Nathan stopped in his tracks. “Okay!” he said happily. “Well then, perhaps instead of taking you home we could take you straight to a clothing store? Then you can get a skirt, and some new panties to replace the pair you just lost ... and you’ll be all set! No need to go home beforehand.”

Emily looked around nervously, then down at her exposed thighs. “Nathan, I said I’d be willing to walk home like this – not go shopping! This is terribly revealing, and people are looking at me.”

“With admiration!” said Nathan. “Come on – Sasha’s thrift store is close by, and there are other clothes stores around here too. You’ll be fully dressed in no time.”

“Ugh ... okay,” said Emily reluctantly. “Let’s go then – quickly!”

“Underwear first?” asked Nathan. “Or skirts?”

“Underwear,” said Emily. “It’s kind of freaking me out to be walking around on the streets with no panties on!”

“Okay then,” said Nathan. “Now where...”

“Figure,” said Emily. “If I remember correctly, it’s that way – a few minutes’ walk.”

“Yup, I know the place,” said Nathan, nodding, and they began walking in the direction Emily had indicated.

On the way, her minimalist outfit attracted plenty of curious stares – as much for the anxious way she was holding on to the sweatshirt’s hem at both sides as for its brevity.

When they arrived at Figure and entered, Emily made a beeline for the lingerie section, where she picked out three more pairs of white bikini briefs, reflecting as she did so that if she had to keep replacing panties as a result of unplanned accidents, her panty-pooping habit could become rather expensive.

“Hey Emily,” said Nathan, grinning as he held up a white thong. “How about getting some thongs?”

Emily shuddered as she stared at it. “Sasha wears those,” she said. “Would you really want me to wear one? I can’t imagine it would be comfortable...”

“Why would Sasha wear uncomfortable underwear?” asked Nathan. “I’m sure thongs take a little getting used to, but stores like this wouldn’t sell them if women didn’t like wearing them, right?”

“I guess not,” Emily conceded.

“So will you try one? For me?” asked Nathan with an impish grin.

Emily sighed, then nodded. “All right,” she said. “But that one’s not my size.” She picked up another. “All right, let’s pay for these quickly, so I can put one of them on!” She headed to the checkout, with Nathan following close behind.

As she paid for her underwear, she noticed that people passing by were staring at her, and the cashier was behaving rather stiffly towards both her and Nathan. She reached back to make sure her bottom was covered, and it still was, but only just. She wondered what sort of treatment she would have received from the staff here if Nathan had not been with her.

In the privacy of a changing room afterwards, she sighed with relief as she stepped into a pair of panties, and pulled them up. At least now, if she fell over or bent over or even just raised her arms, she would only be flashing her panties and not her shameful nakedness.

“What else do we need to get you today?” asked Nathan as they left the shop.

“Skirts!” said Emily. “Short ones if you like, but I need to get something on my bottom half! After that, I need some high-heeled shoes for dancing, and a smartphone, for work.”

Nathan nodded. “We’ll get the skirts from the thrift store,” he said, “but in the meantime, there’s a shoe store right across the road. We might as well go there first, since we’re here, right?”

“I guess so,” said Emily reluctantly. “If they let me in! The folks in Figure seemed a bit, I don’t know, hostile...”

“If there’s a problem, we’ll just leave and go straight to the thrift store,” Nathan promised her.

They crossed the road and entered the shop, and almost immediately, a young man came over to meet them. He looked Emily up and down, smiling broadly. “Welcome to Heart and Sole,” he said. “How can I help you?”

His manner was the opposite of hostile, and Emily relaxed a little. “I need some high-heeled shoes,” she said, “for dancing. Latin ballroom. I’ve never actually worn high heels before...”

“Ah, well, it takes a little getting used to,” said the young man. “My name’s Tucker, and I’ll be happy to guide you through the process. First, let me measure your feet...”

“Emily,” said Emily. “And this is Nathan, my fiancé.”

“Splendid!” said Tucker. “Congratulations on your engagement. If you could please come and take a seat over here, Emily...” He led her over to a cushioned bench, where she sat down, feeling a little self-conscious. Nathan’s sweatshirt was covering hardly any of her thighs, and as Tucker knelt down in front of her with a Brannock device, she became very anxious that he would be able to see her panties if he looked in that direction.

Nathan clearly had the same idea, because he wandered to a position from which he could look at her panties over Tucker’s shoulder. Emily caught him peering at her thighs, trying to get a good look, and she rolled her eyes at him, then smirked. She did not really mind Nathan looking – he was her fiancé after all – but it was a little exasperating that he would apparently be fine with the shoe salesman getting an even better view from a closer vantage point.

So many men had seen her panties now, that it was beginning to feel like an inevitability. Now Tucker was almost certainly about to become the latest ... and Nathan was probably completely fine with that. More than fine; he would probably get a kick out of it. He seemed to enjoy the idea of other men seeing her panties ... like it was some kind of fetish of his. And who was she to judge, really? She had her own fetish – arguably a far worse one. Nathan’s seemed fairly harmless by comparison ... and perhaps it would not be so awful to indulge it a little. It might even be somewhat fun. It had certainly been exciting to dance with Diego with nothing covering her panties.

Well, she was not about to do anything gross like spread her legs in front of Tucker. But if he happened to glance at her panties ... maybe it might be fun, if only to see Nathan’s reaction. She shivered a little. Then she looked at Tucker, just in time to see him flick his eyes back to her feet. Oh goodness – he HAD been checking out her panties! She looked up quickly at Nathan, but he merely smiled at her. He had missed it, clearly.

Tucker picked up her right foot, and set it in the device. Adjusting the length and width sliders, he pulled a tape around the bridge of her foot, and took another measurement. “Hmm,” he said. “Size eight, narrow – quite the dainty foot for your height, Emily!” He glanced up again at her panties, then up at her face. He smiled. “But not an atypical size. We have plenty of shoes that will suit you, I’m sure.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. She had just heard Nathan’s phone ringing, and as she looked at him again, he was putting it to his ear.

“Warren!” he said, getting to his feet and taking his eyes off Emily. “What’s up? Any news?”

“I’ll fetch a pair for you to try on,” said Tucker. “Latin ballroom dancing, huh? Yes, I’m sure we can find you the perfect pair.”

“Thank you,” said Emily again, noting that as he got up, he took another look at her panties. This time, he smirked a little as he did so, and she shivered involuntarily.

Nathan was still on the phone, talking animatedly to Warren, when Tucker returned with a shoe box. He opened it and pulled out a black open-toed leather shoe with crisscrossing ankle straps, and a three-inch heel that was narrow in the middle but flared slightly at the bottom. “This is a seven-and-a-half,” he said. “I went with a slightly smaller size because of your narrow foot. For dancing, you need a snug fit, and I think this will be ideal.”

“Okay,” said Emily, glad that Tucker seemed to know what he was talking about.

He helped her put it on. “How does that feel?” he asked her, after yet another glance at her panties.

“Fine,” said Emily. “Quite comfortable, although I’m not used to wearing shoes with quite so little to them!”

“Well let’s get the other one on,” said Tucker. Once he had fastened the buckle on the second shoe, he set her foot down. “Now stand up,” he said.

Emily did so, but almost immediately her left foot wobbled and then fell sideways, turning her ankle over and causing her to collapse back down on the bench, her knees momentarily spread wide apart. Tucker’s eyes widened, but Emily quickly sat up straight and put her knees together.

“Oh dear!” said Emily. “Maybe high heels aren’t for me!”

“Not at all, it’s just practice,” Tucker assured her. “The problem there was that you were putting your weight on your heels, but these shoes are designed for walking with your weight on your toes.”

“Oh, I see,” said Emily, abashed. “Sorry.”

“No no, there’s no need to apologise,” said Tucker. “We’ll just try to be a little more careful next time you stand up; another accident like that and you could break the strap or, worse, sprain your ankle. How does it feel?” He lifted her left foot and gently squeezed her ankle between his hands. In doing so, he had raised her left knee up a few inches, and moved it a little to the left, widening the gap between her thighs.

“Um, it feels okay,” said Emily, blushing as she squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to minimise his view of her panties. She looked over at Nathan, but he had now moved a few yards farther away and was not watching her.

“Good,” said Tucker, smiling at her panties. “You can’t be too careful. A sprain would put you out of dancing action for weeks, potentially.”

“Yes, I imagine it would!” said Emily, her stomach tightening as she watched him look at her panties again. The man was shameless! And Nathan was missing it! Apparently he would rather chat with Warren on his phone than enjoy the spectacle of a strange man ogling her panties. She felt a pang of indignation at this, along with an inclination to reprimand him later for his lack of attention. It would serve him right if Tucker got a good show and he missed it entirely.

Tucker put her foot down. “Now,” he said, “this time let’s take it a little more slowly, and give you a chance to figure out how to get up, and stand, in high heels without falling over. Once you’ve mastered that, we can try walking in them. Ready?”

Emily nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay,” said Tucker. “First, let’s make a nice stable base.” He took hold of both feet, and moved them about fifteen inches apart. Instinctively, she brought her knees together, but he caught hold of them. “No, don’t put your knees together; that’s a recipe for turning your ankles over.” He pulled them the same distance apart as her feet.

Emily gasped, and clenched her fists by her sides. She wanted to cover her panties, but she had already committed herself to letting Tucker see them, and part of her was feeling motivated to punish Nathan. ‘See what you’re missing?’ she wanted to say to him. ‘Don’t you realise what this man can see?’ But Nathan, now standing with his back to her, was utterly oblivious.

Tucker was now staring openly. “I like your panties,” he said candidly. “Where did you get them, JC Penney?”

His matter-of-fact brazenness caught Emily off guard. “Um, Figure, actually.”

“Oh, across the road?” said Tucker. “Huh – wouldn’t have guessed. My girlfriend won’t shop there; says she bought a sweater there once and it was coming apart at the seams within a month.”

“Yeah, it’s mostly pretty low quality,” said Emily. “But it’s good for underwear – at least my friend Sasha says so.”

“So I see!” said Tucker, pulling her knees a little further apart and leaning in for a better look. “I’ll have to let my girlfriend know; she’s always complaining about how much panties and bras cost.” He licked his lips, continued to stare for a moment longer, then he released her knees. “Okay! Take my hands, and stand up slowly; remember to put your weight on your weight on your toes.”

Feeling a little shell-shocked from having just discussed her panties with Tucker while he was staring at them, Emily nodded dumbly, and held out her hands, placing them in his. Then, as she and Tucker both stood up, and her panties finally became concealed from his gaze, she found her voice at last. “I feel so precarious!” she said. “I don’t know how on Earth I’m going to dance in these shoes!”

“It’s just practice,” said Tucker. “Look, you’re doing fine! You’ll find the heels kind of naturally make you walk on your toes, so it’s just a matter of getting used to how that feels. Come on, try a few steps; walk towards me. Weight on your toes.”

Emily took a tentative step forward, then another. Then, with growing confidence, she continued, as Tucker walked backwards ahead of her. “This isn’t so bad!” she said, starting to feel like maybe she could in fact master this in a relatively short time. Then she accidentally put too much weight on her right heel, and she almost fell. If it had not been for Tucker holding her hands, and supporting her as she toppled, she probably would have collapsed on the floor.

“I think perhaps you lost your concentration there for a moment,” said Tucker, “and tried to walk on your heels again.”

“It’s a hard habit to break!” said Emily ruefully.

“Try walking solo down that aisle,” Tucker suggested. “Use the shelves either side of you for support if necessary.”

Emily turned and began to walk down the aisle, being careful to keep her weight on her toes. She made it down to the far end without incident, and turned around. “I did it!” she said, smiling proudly.

“Well done!” said Tucker, who had followed her a little way into the aisle. “Now walk back towards me.”

Emily had a slight wobble as she began, but she managed to remain upright, and continued at a slow pace, until she was about ten feet away from Tucker. Then he held up his hand. “Wait there a second,” he said. “Listen – I wonder if you could do me a favour. I’d like to show my girlfriend that she can get nice undies at Figure; she’s always so disparaging of the place, and after the sweater incident, you can understand why. But if I send her a photo of your panties, I think she’d come around. I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you mind?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Emily’s cheeks turned pink. “You ... you want to take a photo of my panties?”

Tucker nodded. “Yes please,” he said. “I know, I know, it’s a little weird, asking a stranger if you can photograph their underwear. But it’s for a legitimate purpose, and once I’ve sent the photo to my girlfriend, I’ll delete it right off my phone. You needn’t worry about anyone else seeing it.” He raised his phone, looking at her expectantly.

Emily hesitated. Nathan would no doubt get a big kick out of this. But he was out of sight! Should she do it anyway? He would probably enjoy hearing about it afterwards. And after all, Tucker had already seen her panties anyway...

She bit her lip, then slowly lifted up the front of Nathan’s sweatshirt, uncovering about half of her panties. “Very nice!” said Tucker, taking a photo. “Higher please, though – I want to get the whole thing.”

Emily shyly raised the sweatshirt even higher, until her panties were fully exposed, along with a couple of inches of skin above the waistband. Tucker took another photo. “Can you smile, please?” he asked. “I don’t want her to think I’m coercing you or anything.”

Emily smiled, a little sheepishly, and Tucker took another photo. Then he crouched down, put one knee on the floor, and took yet another. “Great!” he said. “Can I get a back view as well?”

Emily shivered slightly, and turned around. “Nice!” said Tucker, taking a couple more photos. “Yup, look back at me ... big smile please ... good! Okay, almost done – if you could spread your feet a bit further apart ... and lift up the back of your sweatshirt a little more, it’s kinda hanging down ... excellent. Wow Emily, has anyone told you you have a really exceptional ass? Just beautiful!”

Emily blushed. “I guess I’ve had a couple of compliments about it,” she admitted.

“I’m not surprised!” said Tucker. “Maybe could you bend forward, and stick it out a bit? And hike up that sweatshirt even more ... and smile...”

Emily could not help feeling that she was presenting her panty-clad bottom to Tucker in a rather indecent manner, sticking it out towards him while pulling her only outerwear up as high as her ribcage. But at the same time it felt rather fun, in a naughty way. She did feel some guilt about displaying herself in this manner to a stranger, but that guilt was considerably assuaged by the thought that Nathan would not mind what she was doing ... and indeed would probably even encourage it.

Tucker stood up. “Thank you!” he said, putting his phone away. “You’re most kind. So, what do you think of the shoes?”

Emily stood up straight and pulled the sweatshirt back down. “I can walk in them,” she conceded. “I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to dance ... but I guess I’ll find out.”

“Okay then!” said Tucker. “Bring them up to the front, then, and Jill will look after you.”

“Thank you,” said Emily.

“Can I just ask, though,” said Tucker, “why you’re wearing just a sweatshirt, and no pants or anything down below...?”

Emily’s cheeks turned an even brighter red. “It’s a long story,” she said. “I don’t normally dress like this! I’m on my way to buy an outfit to replace the one I was wearing this morning but ... lost.”

“Ah,” said Tucker. “Well, good luck with that. Although I must say I’m a big fan of your current outfit. Not many women could pull off a look like that, but you’re certainly one of them. You look terrific.”

“Awww, thank you!” said Emily, with genuine gratitude. “It’s nice of you to say so.”

Tucker smiled and nodded, then he walked away, leaving Emily to walk carefully back to the bench where her bag and her own shoes were. She was not sure she would ever get used to wearing high heels – they still felt very unnatural – but at least she was not falling over now.

Nathan came over as she sat down and took off the high heels. “Hey, guess what?” he said excitedly.

“What?” Emily inquired.

“We have another gig lined up! At Hal’s Rock Club – I don’t know it, but Warren says a lot of local bands play there. And Brian – our manager – wants us all to get together for a band meeting tomorrow afternoon, at five o’clock, at the old publishing place.”

Emily nodded. “Okay.”

“So, you like these heels?” asked Nathan.

“Yes,” said Emily. “At least, they seem to fit just fine, and I like how they look. I just don’t know how I’m going to dance in them.”

“Maybe your friend Diego can help you with that,” Nathan suggested.

Emily shivered. “Yes,” she agreed. “Maybe.” Then she pursed her lips uneasily. “Um, Nathan?”

“Yes Babe?”

”Um ... I’m afraid Tucker kind of saw my panties,” she said.

Nathan grinned. “That’s okay,” he said. “Did he seem to like what he saw?”

Emily nodded. “He ... he actually commented on them,” she continued nervously. “He asked where I bought them. He seemed to think his girlfriend would like them.”

“Cool!” said Nathan.

“He ... he wanted to take a photo of them, so he could send it to his girlfriend, to show her,” Emily said, not looking Nathan in the eye. “I ... I thought you would be okay with that, so ... I posed for him. I showed him my panties. And he took a photo. Well, several actually.”

Nathan laughed. “Oh my goodness!” he said. “What’s happened to my sweet little innocent Emily? Now you’re flaunting your panties at every man who asks to see them!”

Emily put her face in her hands, mortified. “I’m not!” she protested, though rather mournfully, as her guilt was eating at her. “Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have let him!”

Nathan laughed again. “Oh Baby, I’m just teasing!” he said. “You’re nothing like that, I know – you’re just kind-hearted and willing to do nice things for people. And if a guy wants to take photos of your panties to show them to his girlfriend ... why not? There’s no harm in it. And it’s a pretty sexy thing to do, if you ask me. I don’t mind at all.”

Emily thought of all the times in the past few days that men other than Nathan had seen her panties ... and sometimes more. “You really don’t mind other men seeing my panties?” she ventured. “I’ve been worrying, because it seems to be happening a lot for some reason...”

Nathan hugged her. “No, I don’t mind,” he said. “Stop worrying, seriously. I ... I genuinely enjoy it, honestly. So feel free to show your panties to other men, if you get the chance – the more you do it, the happier it’ll make me. I love the idea that I have a fiancée who is such a sexy woman.”

Emily shivered. “What about my ... breasts?” she asked tentatively. “Yesterday morning I accidentally locked myself out of the Davises’ house while wearing nothing but my panties ... and their neighbour helped me get back inside...”

Nathan burst out laughing. “Awesome!” he said. “How the heck did you manage to do that though? What were you doing outside in your panties?”

Emily blushed, thinking quickly. “Well, I was alone in the house,” she said, “and I wasn’t expecting to be seen by anyone. I went out into the back yard because it was a nice day ... it was only supposed to be for a few moments, but the door closed behind me, and then I realised it was locked...”

“Oh man!” said Nathan, laughing happily. “I wish I’d seen that! No, I don’t mind the neighbour seeing your boobs. I think that’s awesome, actually!”

“Okay,” said Emily, relieved. She felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. All the guilt she had been feeling about her inadvertent exposures was unnecessary; Nathan did, in fact, approve of such things. She could stop worrying about it.

She paid for the shoes, and they left the store together. “Now, the thrift store!” said Emily.

“Didn’t you say you needed a phone...?” asked Nathan.

Emily pouted. “You just want to keep me dressed like this as long as possible,” she said.

Nathan grinned. “You got me,” he confessed. “It’s just that you look so sexy like that!”

She sighed. “Fine, we’ll shop for a phone first,” she said. “But promise me we’ll go straight to the thrift store afterwards? I know I’m not wearing much, but I’m roasting in this sweatshirt. It’s way too heavy for this heat!”

“I promise,” said Nathan. “After all, I am looking forward to getting you some more miniskirts, and seeing you in them.”

Emily nodded glumly. “Yes, I’m sure you are,” she said.

The shop where Nathan had bought his own Galaxy smartphone was quite close by, and when they entered, given how long he had had to wait for service himself, Nathan was surprised how quickly Emily was attended to. It was almost as if a couple of the salesmen were arguing with each other about which of them would get to serve her. The one that came over was tall, fair-haired, and in his late twenties. “Hi, I’m Josh,” he said. “How can I help you folks?”

Emily had half expected her phone purchase to involve some kind of embarrassing exposure, but in fact it was really quite an uneventful experience. Josh was clearly enjoying checking out her legs from time to time, but he was also very enthusiastic about his product. Emily was horrified at the cost, but Nathan insisted on paying for it himself.

“You can cover the monthly bills,” he said as they left the store. “With your new job, that shouldn’t be hard.” Then he gave her a tutorial on the most important functions of her phone. With his help, she set up five contacts: the Davises’ landline, Nathan’s cell, Diego’s number, Blake’s, and Sasha’s.

Then, true to his word, Nathan accompanied Emily to the thrift shop. There they found Sasha, emerging from the back room with an armful of dresses. “Emily!” she said, looking delighted, then astonished. “What the hell are you wearing??”

“Nathan’s sweatshirt,” said Emily apologetically. “I know, I’m very underdressed! I had a bit of a clothing mishap. I was hoping to get some more skirts and tops here.”

“Oh, well sure!” said Sasha. “Do you just want to look around, or would you like some help...?”

“Where do you keep your shortest skirts?” asked Nathan, grinning.

Sasha raised an eyebrow, and looked at Emily, who blushed. “I guess I agreed to wear more miniskirts,” she said awkwardly. “Nathan really likes them, and, well, I’ve been wearing a few lately, and I seem to be getting used to them.”

“Well that’s great!” said Sasha. “Have you worn the denim one yet?”

Emily bit her lip in embarrassment. “Yes,” she admitted, “at our gig last night. I even ... shortened it.”

Sasha laughed. “Good for you!” she said. “My, you have come a long way in a short time! But that’s great – come, follow me. We have plenty of miniskirts.”

There was, indeed, quite a variety, in terms of both lengths and styles. Nathan immediately gravitated to the shortest ones he could find, while Emily preferred skirts with ruffles, floral designs, pleats, or layers – and these were generally slightly longer. In the end, after trying a few on and modelling them for Nathan, she and he compromised, selecting two that he especially liked, and two that she liked. The longest of these was a light and floaty cream-coloured skirt which hung in loose folds about her upper thighs. It felt very summery, and although it was rather longer than anything Nathan wanted her to wear, it still seemed quite short to her. It was perhaps as long as her denim skirt had been, before Diego had shortened it.

The next longest, also her choice, was a black, white and grey plaid skirt, checkered with very small squares. It was about an inch shorter than the cream skirt, and rather tighter, but she liked it because it looked quite professional, despite its shortness, and she thought it would be a good one to wear to work on Monday.

The longer of Nathan’s two picks was a stretchy black skirt which clung rather snugly to her bottom, leaving very little to the imagination. It was not much shorter than the plaid skirt, but she was a little worried about it riding up and getting shorter as she walked around.

The final skirt was alarmingly tiny; a flared blue miniskirt with two thin horizontal white stripes circling the skirt just above the hem, and two sets of decorative buttons just in front of her hips. When it was zipped up at the back, it fit very tightly around her waist, and although she tugged it down as far as she could, it felt as though it only barely covered her bottom. A couple of days ago, she would have outright rebelled at the idea of wearing such a short skirt; now, the thought just made her shiver. What was happening to her?

Next, they moved on to tops. “What do you have that’s sexy?” Nathan asked Sasha.

She chuckled. “Well, depending on how sexy you mean, we’ve got some options. What did you have in mind? Low-cut? Crop tops? Something clingy? See-through...?”

“See-through!” said Nathan immediately.

“Not if you want me to keep going braless, Nathan,” Emily muttered nervously.

“You’re going braless now too?” said Sasha in surprise. “Wow, Emily!”

“Nobody seemed to mind!” said Emily defensively. “And, well, I have to admit I do quite like the comfort and freedom of going without – it’s kind of liberating...”

Sasha laughed. “Yeah, it’s nice to do sometimes ... but you’re pretty brave if you’re doing it all the time!”

Emily blushed. “Well it’s just been a couple of days. We’ll see how long it lasts.”

“Oh, I was hoping it was a permanent change...” Nathan grinned encouragingly.

“Huh,” said Sasha. “Emily, I think we need some girl time. Run along, Nathan, and give us some space.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow at Emily, who nodded. “Okay, well I’ll let the two of you talk in peace then,” he said. He turned and wandered off towards the men’s clothing section.

“Okay, Emily, what the heck?” asked Sasha. “Is Nathan coercing you somehow?”

“No!” said Emily. “Not at all. I mean, he’s encouraging me to dress more racily, yes ... but he didn’t start this. There’s just been this escalating series of events ... it’s hard to explain. Mainly I guess it’s been my barista outfit, which started skimpy and just got skimpier. But the weird thing was, even though I felt so mortified and embarrassed a lot of the time ... people were generally really nice and complimentary. So I’ve become, I don’t know, more open – I guess...? – to showing off parts of my body that I’ve hidden away for years. I mean, there’s something quite liberating about that, as long as it doesn’t go too far and get too stressful. I mean, you should see how I’ve been wearing my blouse at the coffee shop! Unbuttoned down to here!” She pointed. “And you wouldn’t believe the number of men who’ve seen my panties now. Mostly by accident, because I’ve been wearing such short skirts...”

Sasha was shaking her head in bemusement. “Seems like you’re having an interesting time!” she said. “But are you genuinely okay with it? Nathan wants you to wear revealing tops, but what about you? What kind of tops would you prefer to wear?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Emily confessed. “I like to make Nathan happy, of course, and it can be quite fun and exciting, in a scary sort of way, when I’m showing a lot of chest. Men seem very fond of my breasts, and I can’t deny it’s nice to get those compliments. I’d certainly feel more relaxed and comfortable in long sleeves and a high neckline. But Nathan would be disappointed, and I’m not sure that on some level I wouldn’t be disappointed in myself. So I think I’m open – tentatively – to trying whatever sexy tops you have in mind. I can always say no if it’s too much for me.”

Sasha nodded. “All right, well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay with all this. I’d hate to think you were being pressured.”

“I’m not,” Emily assured her.

“Good! Then let’s look at some sexy tops. If you’re going to be braless, let’s go with clingy or low-cut rather than sheer.”

“Okay,” said Emily. “Although it’s not like I don’t still have my bras; it wouldn’t hurt to try a sheer top or two. If I like it, I can always wear a bra under it.”

“Fair enough!” said Sasha. Over the next few minutes, she and Emily rounded up an armful of tops of different styles, and then Emily tried them all on. Nathan had been unbanished by this point, so he was on hand to provide feedback.

“Love it, love it, love it!” he said excitedly, staring at Emily’s highly visible breasts through the gauzy, lacy, long-sleeved black top in which she had emerged from the changing room – along with the plaid skirt.

“Don’t get too excited!” said Emily, looking around nervously. “I’ll be wearing a bra under this – if I ever dare wear it in public at all!”

“Jesus Christ, Emily,” Sasha grumbled. “You...”

“Language, please!” said Emily, pained. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Sasha.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Holy cannoli, then. I was just going to say it’s totally unfair for you to have boobs of that size that stay up so well. Heck, mine sag more than yours and they’re half the size! No wonder you don’t mind showing them off!”

“Oh hush,” said Emily, blushing and trying not to smile. “I guess this one’s a winner, then. Next one...”

In all, she tried on seven tops, and Nathan ended up buying all but one. All three of them agreed that a backless blouse with a wide collar did not work particularly well. But the six that Nathan bought were all interesting in their own way. The sheer black lacy top was popular with both Nathan and Sasha, though Emily was privately unsure whether she would be comfortable wearing it even with a bra. A beige crop top, with straps that could be worn on or off the shoulder, was somewhat less sheer, and Nathan tried to persuade Emily that she could wear it without a bra. But Sasha remarked that her nipples were still fairly visible through the material, so going braless was probably not an option.

Sasha was a big fan of a long-sleeved, very stretchy red top which moulded itself around Emily’s breasts almost like a second skin. Emily was not convinced; she could see every bounce of her breasts as she walked around, and although the material was opaque, her nipples formed little bumps in it. But Sasha and Nathan managed to persuade her that the top looked good on her, so she agreed to include it.

Next was a short-sleeved crop top which had a complex and very sexy design: two strips of its pale pink material crossed over in the front, wrapped around behind her, and tied together at the back. The strips were quite narrow, and left a large expanse of the lower and inner portions of her breasts uncovered. The back of the garment was mostly open, but below the point where the front strips tied together, there was a band of material which went all the way around her middle, just above her navel. Emily was by now used to showing off so much of her breasts, thanks to her coffee shop blouse, but she was a little worried about them actually falling out of this top. A little experimental bouncing failed to dislodge them, however, so she decided it was probably safe enough to wear.

The same could not be said of a stretchy yellow tube top which she politely told Nathan she would be happy to wear for him in private, but not if they went out anywhere. Even just walking a few paces in it was enough to demonstrate its unsuitability; as her breasts bounced, they shifted slightly against the inside of the material, making it slip downward, and since it was strapless, there was nothing to prevent it from continuing to descend as she walked. She judged that after walking for maybe a minute or so, the upper edge of the garment would be likely to reach the level of her nipples, which would then pop out unless she hoisted the top back up again. Having to pull it up every minute, or even more frequently, seemed like an exhausting prospect. Nathan, of course, loved it.

The final top was a very low-cut, loose-fitting pastel blue tank top with spaghetti straps. She looked decent enough in it while walking around, albeit showing quite a lot of cleavage, but any time she leaned over forward, the top fell away from her chest, potentially revealing her breasts to anyone in front of her. Despite this, it was her favourite of all of the tops.

“Now,” said Sasha, “let’s get you some shorts.”

Nathan grimaced. “Shorts?” he grumbled. “Why? I don’t like shorts.”

Sasha glared at him. “Then you don’t have to wear them,” she said. “Now shoo – Emily and I can handle this by ourselves.”

“Fine.” Nathan sighed, then he went off to look at the used books section.

“I’m kind of in agreement with Nathan, though,” said Emily. “I’m not a fan of shorts. They’re not pretty, they’re not feminine, they’re not sexy...”

“You just haven’t found the right shorts,” said Sasha firmly. “Have you never heard of booty shorts?”

Emily shook her head.

Sasha smirked. “Come on,” she said. She led Emily into another section, and pulled a pair of very tiny denim shorts off a shelf. “What about these?”

“They’re very short!” said Emily in surprise. “Do they even cover the whole ... butt?”

Sasha grinned. “Yes, they’ll cover the butthole.”

Emily’s cheeks turned crimson. “That’s not what I said!”

Sasha laughed. “Why not try them on?” she suggested. “Let’s see if your butt cheeks peek out. Not gonna lie; they might! Only one way to find out.”

Emily shuddered. “But where would I wear such a thing? I don’t see women walking around on the street with their buttocks showing!”

“You will,” said Sasha with a chuckle. “Okay so it’s not commonly seen on the street, but if you go to the beach, or the park maybe, or the gym, you’re likely to see some booty shorts sooner or later.”

“Oh, now that you mention it, I did see some at the gym,” said Emily, remembering. “They weren’t denim though.”

“Well no, they were probably yoga shorts,” conceded Sasha. “Better for working out in. I don’t know if we have any of those... Let’s see... Oh yes! Something like this?” She held up a pair of skimpy-looking yoga-style booty shorts, dark blue in color. “Now come on – are you telling me Nathan wouldn’t love to see you in these?”

“He might,” Emily admitted.

Sasha grinned. “We should go back to the gym. I’m willing to bet Joey would just looove to see you in these shorts.”

“Oh hush, Sasha!” said Emily, swatting Sasha’s arm. “Don’t be naughty.” But the thought of wearing this while Joey helped her stretch ... she shivered.

“Only three bucks!” said Sasha. “Size says ‘medium’, which could mean anything. But they look like they’d fit you. Want to try them on? Of course, you should really wear them with a thong, but I’m guessing you probably don’t have any of those...”

“Actually,” said Emily, “I just bought one. It’s my first!”

“Well hallelujah!” said Sasha. “Wonders will never cease.” Then her expression turned thoughtful ... and a little mischievous. “I did enjoy our last visit to the gym together, you know. You wanna go with me again this evening...?”

“I’d love to,” said Emily, truthfully, “but I can’t. I’m doing a photo shoot for a dance studio.”

Sasha blinked. “You just arrived in the city, found yourself a barista job, lost yourself a barista job, got a secretarial position in an office ... and you’re also modelling on the side?? How are you finding the time?!”

Emily chuckled ruefully. “It has all been a bit of a whirlwind. The photo shoot wasn’t something I’d ever have imagined doing; it just happened because of my dance lesson, which was also completely unexpected. And the dance lesson happened because of joining Nathan’s rock band, which was also totally unexpected! But I don’t know – it’s been a bit chaotic, but also rather fun! I’ve never had a week like this. It’s crazy!”

Sasha smiled. “Small town girl, big city – the possibilities are endless. Well, that’s awesome. I’d go to the gym with you tomorrow but I have other plans. How about Monday? In the evening? Say, eight o’clock?”

“Sure!” said Emily. “That sounds good.”

“All right, so why don’t you go and try on these booty shorts?” Sasha suggested. “And the denim ones – might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

“Okay,” said Emily, a little nervously. “I’d better go and find Nathan first though; he’ll want to see.”

“I’ll find Nathan,” said Sasha. “You try on the booty shorts. But wait – hmm, let’s see if we can find a third option...” She searched for a moment, then picked up an even skimpier pair of denim shorts. “Goodness, these have really been butchered, haven’t they?”

Emily was dismayed by how much of the back of the shorts was missing. “Those would show half my butt!” she protested.

Sasha grinned. “So just wear them in private, for Nathan,” she said. “Or at the beach – sure, you’d turn a few heads, but nobody would really think anything of it. If people can wear thong bikinis at the beach – and they do – you can certainly get away with this.”

Emily took the shorts, and peered at the label. “My size,” she muttered. “Fine, I’ll try them on.”

“I’ll fetch Nathan!” said Sasha.

Emily went back into the changing room, and put on the first pair of denim shorts. They were a size six, which Emily could sometimes get away with, if the fit was not too tight. These were a little tight; not uncomfortably so, but she did not like the way her flesh of her hips bulged slightly above the waistband. Putting her hands behind her, she felt along the hem of the shorts, and the lower curves of her buttocks, which were, indeed, peeping out. She shivered. The exposure was minimal – perhaps half an inch at most – but the idea of going out with even part of her bottom showing was a little unnerving.

She emerged from the changing room, to find Nathan and Sasha waiting for her. Nathan was grinning, and holding a gauzy-looking pink garment. Then his expression turned to puzzlement. “Are you wearing something?” he asked.

“Oh.” Emily realised that Nathan’s sweatshirt was fully covering the denim shorts. “Here.” She gathered up the sweatshirt around her middle.

“Wow, those are short shorts!” Nathan remarked. “Can I see the back?” When Emily turned around, he gasped in delight. “Oh, I like that!”

Emily chuckled ruefully. “I thought you might,” she said. “They’re a bit tight, but I guess they’re wearable.”

“A few sessions at the gym will take care of the tightness,” Sasha remarked with a little smirk.

Emily pouted at her. Then she said, “What’s that you’ve got there, Nathan?”

Nathan grinned, and opened it out. “It’s a nightie!” he said. “I found it in the next aisle. Isn’t it awesome?” It looked very skimpy, and very see-through.

Emily stared at him. “Nathan, when are you expecting me to wear that? We don’t live together!”

“True,” Nathan admitted, “but we will soon ... and in the meantime at least you can model it for me sometimes. I just love it! I saw it and I thought, ‘oh my goodness I’d just love to see Emily wearing this!’” He sighed. “It just sucks that I get to see so little of you.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “You two really need to get a place together.”

“I’d love to,” said Nathan.

Emily frowned. “Nathan!” she said.

“I know, I know,” he said grumpily. Then he explained to Sasha, “I promised ... we both promised ... Emily’s mom and dad that we wouldn’t live in sin together. No cohabitation before marriage.”

Sasha shrugged. “So get married. All you need is a registry office and a witness, right? Maybe your birth certificates – I dunno.”

Emily looked at Nathan, and both of them laughed. “Can you see my dad’s face if we did that?”

Nathan nodded. “We’d pretty much be disowned if we didn’t have a full Robertine wedding,” he said. “For better or worse, we’re just going to have to live apart for the time being. But please, Emily – just to think of you wearing this...”

“Fine, I’ll try it on!” said Emily. “But don’t expect me to come out here wearing it. I’ll just let you know how it fits.”

“Couldn’t he step in there with you?” Sasha inquired. “Or are you worried he’d be so aroused that he’d rip it off you and ravish you?”

Emily laughed. “Nathan wouldn’t do that,” she said confidently.

“Don’t be so sure!” said Nathan playfully. Then, when Emily arched an eyebrow at him, he added hastily, “No, of course I wouldn’t.”

“All right,” said Emily, taking the negligée from him. “I guess you can come in and take a look, when I’m ready. I’ll try on the other shorts first though.”

“Okay,” said Nathan.

Emily went back into the changing room, and emerged about a minute later. Looking a little sheepish, she hiked up the sweatshirt again. This time she was wearing the yoga shorts.

“Nice,” said Sasha, nodding. “They suit you.”

Nathan stared at the shorts. “Turn around?” he suggested.

Emily hesitated, looking around nervously. Then she quickly turned her back on Nathan and Sasha, held that position for a couple of seconds, then turned back.

“Wow!” said Nathan. “Where ... are you even wearing panties under those?”

“I’m wearing the thong,” Emily explained. It felt a little strange, having a thin strip of material between her buttocks, but it was not as uncomfortable as she had imagined.

“Damn, Emily,” said Sasha enviously. “What I wouldn’t give to have a butt like yours.”

Emily blushed. “You both approve, then? You don’t think it’s too revealing for the gym?” The thought of being coached by Joey, and having him admire her bottom in these shorts, was filling her with a secret naughty thrill. While she had no intention of being disloyal to Nathan, she could not help yearning to be in the presence of Joey’s masculinity again ... and she told herself that Nathan would almost certainly enjoy the idea of Joey ogling her.

“Not at all!” said Nathan, and Sasha shook her head, grinning.

“Okay!” said Emily, relieved. “Next one then.”

When she next appeared, she was wearing the skimpier pair of denim shorts. Nathan’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she turned around. “Oh ... my ... sweet Lord above!” he gasped. Emily’s bottom was barely half-covered, the globes of her buttocks thrusting proudly out of what could only inaccurately be termed as the garment’s ‘leg-holes’.

“Yes, this is way too much, isn’t it?” said Emily fretfully, turning back around and putting her hands over her bottom.

“No, no!” said Nathan hastily. “That was a GOOD oh-my-sweet-Lord-above. It looks amazing!”

“It really does,” Sasha confirmed with a chuckle. “Even if you only wear it in private, you should totally get that pair.”

“They do fit better than the other pair,” Emily conceded. “Okay, let’s get them – but for private wear only!” She stared hard at Nathan, to make sure he understood this.

“Absolutely,” Nathan agreed. “Just in private.”

“All right,” she said. “Now, I guess ... the nightie.” She went back into the changing room, stripped to her thong and shoes, and put on the negligée. Then, to achieve the full effect, she kicked off her shoes, and stood facing the mirror.

It was certainly the sexiest thing she had ever worn. It was not just the thread-like spaghetti straps that went up over her shoulders, nor that every detail of her breasts was visible through the diaphanous material, nor even that it was so short that it came down barely any further than the top of her thong ... it was also the fact that it was split up the middle, the two sides tied together with a pair of flimsy strings a couple of inches above the level of her nipples. It was clothing designed not to hide her body, but to show it off. She could not wait to see the expression on Nathan’s face.

“Nathan?” she said coyly. “Can you come in?”

The curtain was pulled back, and Nathan stepped inside. Emily stepped backward, giving him room to appreciate her. As she had hoped, his jaw dropped open, and he raised his hands to his cheeks. “Ohhh!” he whispered. “It looks even better on you than I’d imagined! Come here, Baby!” He pulled her into his arms, and kissed her.

She responded warmly for a few seconds, but when his hand sneaked up under the material to squeeze and caress her right breast, she pulled away nervously. “Nathan, not here, okay?” she muttered. “Not that I don’t appreciate your reaction. I’ll wear it for you in your room sometime, okay? We can make out properly then ... as long as we don’t get too carried away.”

“Okay,” Nathan agreed reluctantly.

“Now let me get dressed, and we’ll go and buy all these new things,” said Emily. “But after this, no more clothes shopping for a while! We’ve spent so much today, and I know the prices here are cheap, but we’re getting a lot of clothes, and they add up.”

Nathan nodded. “Okay, see you in a moment.” He pulled back the curtain, and stepped out again. Emily could hear him enthusing to Sasha about how incredible and sexy she looked, and she smiled.

She put on Nathan’s sweatshirt again, along with her ordinary panties, and her shoes. Then she left the changing room, and accompanied Nathan to the checkouts with an armful of clothes. Nathan used his card to pay for them. Then she went back to the changing room, took off the sweatshirt again, and put on the cream skirt and the pastel blue tank top. Looking at herself in the mirror, she almost demurred; this was still a very sexy outfit in which to be going out in public. The merest breath of wind might cause the skirt to fly up around her waist, and the top was lower-cut than any top she had ever worn, its neckline coming perilously close to the tops of her areolae.

Taking a deep breath, she went back out to rejoin Nathan. Sasha, back at work rearranging items on a shelf, waved to them as they left the store, and Emily waved back with a smile.

“It’s almost six o’clock,” said Nathan. “Would you like to eat out? Maybe go back to Romano’s? We have that voucher...”

“Oh dear!” said Emily anxiously. “I didn’t realise it was so late! I have to be at the photo shoot at seven! I don’t think we have time to eat at Romano’s, Nathan. I’m not sure if I have time to eat at all!”

“Oh!” said Nathan. “Well, there’s a McDonald’s just down the road. That’ll be quick.”

“As long as I can get to the photographer’s place by seven,” said Emily. “I know which bus to take from outside the Davises’ house, but it’ll take me several minutes to get there from here, and I don’t know how long the bus will take to get to Cooper Street.”

“Hmm,” said Nathan. He pulled out his phone. After a few moments, he said, “There’s one that leaves from Hubert Road at six forty-three and stops on Whitworth Street, just near the junction with Cooper Street, at six fifty-six.”

“You’ll have to show me how to do that!” said Emily enviously. There was so much she had to learn about smartphones.

“I will,” Nathan promised. “In the meantime, it’s probably best if I just walk you home and you grab something quick to eat there.”

“Okay,” said Emily.

They arrived at the Davises’ at about ten past six. Nathan kissed her goodbye at the front door, and Emily entered the house.

“Emily!” said Mary, as Emily walked into the kitchen. “How did your interview go?”

“I got the job!” said Emily happily. “I start Monday morning!”

“Oh, how wonderful!” said Mary, clapping her hands. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” said Emily.

Mary looked her up and down. “That’s quite a fetching outfit...”

“Thank you,” said Emily, blushing. “I hope it’s not too ... revealing? I seem to have become used to showing more skin, and Nathan really likes it, so I think I’m going to stick with this kind of thing ... unless you disapprove...”

“Oh, not at all, dear,” Mary assured her. “And you know you can wear even less than that around the house if you like. Even if it’s not bedtime. If you fancy taking off your skirt before dinner time, feel free!”

“Oh!” said Emily, surprised and a little taken aback. She had expected more pushback from Robertines, even relatively liberal ones like Jacob and Mary. “Well, thank you! But actually I need to leave fairly soon; I’m doing a photo shoot with my dance instructor, Diego. I’m meeting him at seven, so I’ll need to leave here by six-forty.”

“A photo shoot? How exciting!” said Mary. “That doesn’t leave you much time though. “How about you heat up some of last night’s leftovers in the microwave? There’s enough for one, and you can be eating in five minutes instead of twenty.”

“Thanks!” said Emily. “That sounds great. Let me just put this stuff upstairs. I bought a few new outfits...”

“I look forward to seeing them!” said Mary with a smile. “And, I’m sure, so does Paul. He has a bit of a crush on you, I think.”

“Yes, I kind of got that impression,” Emily admitted. “Perhaps I should be a little more careful how I dress around him; I don’t want to encourage him...”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry,” Mary reassured her. “There’s no harm in a little crush. You dress how you like. Goodness knows, Paul doesn’t have a lot of female friends. Or, indeed, a lot of friends. Jacob and I are both very grateful to you for the time you spend with him.”

Emily bit her lip. “He’s been giving me ... goodnight kisses,” she said cautiously. “I kind of thought it was a nice thing to do for Paul, and Nathan doesn’t seem to mind at all...”

Mary beamed. “That’s a lovely idea!” she said. “And yes, it’s very nice of you to do that for him. Thank you.”

“Okay,” said Emily, relieved that Mary approved of the kissing, even though she was unaware of how extensive it had become. “Right – better run upstairs. Back in a moment!”

By six-forty, she had eaten and was ready to head out again. Bidding goodbye to Jacob and Mary and a rather disappointed Paul (who had hoped to spend the evening with her), she left the house and headed for the bus stop.

The bus, fortunately, was running pretty much on schedule, and she disembarked with three minutes to spare. It did not take her long to find Pablo’s address. It was a modest-sized house in a row of similar houses, crowded together with little space between them and with no front yard to speak of. She walked up to the front door, and rang the bell.

The door was answered by Diego, already dressed in his dance clothes. “Emily!” he said, smiling warmly at her. He looked her up and down. “A very nice outfit! Not bad for dancing, actually, although I did bring a couple of dresses for you.”

“I also brought some high heels,” said Emily, stepping past him as he stood aside for her. “I thought they would be good for photos; I’m not sure if I can dance in them though!”

“We’ll work on that on Monday,” said Diego. “Come on upstairs; I’ll introduce you to Pablo.”

The stairs were steep, and as she climbed them ahead of Diego, she could not help wondering if he was looking up her skirt. She had half a mind to sneak a look back over her shoulder to check, but she decided against it. As she reached the top of the stairs, she looked along the landing. “Which room?” she asked, though she had a feeling he was about to direct her to a ladder that led up into a square hole in the ceiling.

“The attic,” said Diego. “Head up that ladder.”

Emily pursed her lips as she climbed, her bag slung over her arm so she could use both hands. Diego was almost certainly looking up her skirt now. Or was he? Perhaps he was more of a gentleman than that, despite the intimate ways he had touched her in her dance lesson. With a slightly nervous laugh, she said, “Don’t look up, Diego!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, smiling up at her panties.

Feeling relieved, but for some reason slightly disappointed, Emily continued up into the attic. She emerged from the hole into a large open room hung with drapes and boasting an array of lighting and camera equipment. There was also a bed up here, plus a couple of chairs, and a large pale grey rug covering much of the floor space.

A young man came over to shake her hand. “Hi Emily, I’m Pablo,” he said. “Wow, you’re a beauty, aren’t you? Welcome to my studio!” He was not much older than Nathan, and almost as good-looking as Diego. He wore long denim shorts, and a shirt that he had not bothered to button up. Emily could hardly blame him for that, though; it was very warm up here.

“Nice to meet you, Pablo,” she said. “This place looks very professional!”

“Thank you, I try,” he said. “This is just a hobby, though. By day I put on a costume and fight crime.”

Emily stared at him. “You’re a ... a superhero?” She knew very little about superheroes, but she knew about the costumes and crime-fighting, at least.

He laughed. “No, just a cop,” he said. “But I’d really like to quit and do the photography thing full-time. It’s definitely my passion.”

Emily blushed, feeling foolish. “So, um, should I change...?”

“Yes,” said Diego. “Sorry, I probably should have brought the first dress downstairs with me.” He picked up a red dress that was draped over the back of a chair, and handed it to her. “You can take that downstairs if you want, and change in the bathroom...“

“No need for that!” said Pablo cheerfully. He pointed at a folding screen in the corner of the room. “You can change behind there.”

“Okay,” said Emily. She took the dress behind the screen, along with her bag. After making sure she could not be seen, she took off her skirt and her top, and put on the dress. It was extremely short, which did not surprise her, but it was also asymmetrically cut, so that her panties were almost exposed at the left hip, while the right-hand side came down almost to mid-thigh. It had a plunging neckline which came down almost to her navel, and which was pulled wide open by her large breasts. On a less buxom woman, it would have formed a very narrow V; on Emily, it was quite revealing. Slender straps went up over her shoulders and far down behind, exposing most of her back.

She put her high heels on, and walked carefully back out to rejoin Diego and Pablo. “Sensational!” said Pablo enthusiastically, as Diego nodded in approval. “Uh, but ... are you going to put on some makeup...?”

Emily stared at him. “Um, do I need some? I don’t generally wear makeup...”

“Oh boy,” said Pablo, and he took a deep breath. “Emily, you’re a natural beauty, and that’s wonderful ... but the lights will inevitably wash out your features to a certain extent. A little makeup is necessary, even for you. Fortunately, I have some. Would you please take a seat?”

Feeling a little embarrassed at her faux pas, Emily sat down in one of the chairs. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It just didn’t occur to me.”

“Never mind,” said Pablo, as he fetched a box from a small chest of drawers beside the bed. “I’ll soon fix you up. Not a lot of sins to hide, in your case.”

He deftly applied several different kinds of makeup, while Emily held herself as still as she could. This was a new experience for her; Robertine women eschewed makeup on principle, though it was not unheard of for women with a less than ideal complexion to wear a foundation. Lipstick was strictly off-limits, as were eye shadow and (shudder) mascara ... but this was the city, and a photo shoot was perhaps a special case.

The process took just ten minutes, and at its end, Emily’s face was adorned with not just lipstick, but eye shadow and mascara as well. “May I ... see in a mirror?” she asked hesitantly.

“Sure!” said Pablo, pointing to a mirror on the wall behind her.

Emily got up, and walked over to the mirror. Her eyes widened. It was definitely still her, but she looked so ... different!

“Do you like it?” Pablo asked her.

“I do!” said Emily, turning her head this way and that. “I look quite ... sophisticated, don’t I?”

“Personally I like the natural you,” said Diego. “It’s honest. It’s you. But you certainly look good in makeup.”

Emily smiled, curling up the corners of her cherry red lips. “I feel like I’ve turned into a different person!”

“Perhaps this other person needs a name,” Diego suggested.

Emily nodded. “I am ... Emilia!” she said. “Hold on...” She reached
behind her head, and set about unbraiding her hair. A moment later, it was tumbling around her shoulders. She looked into the mirror and adopted what she hoped was a sultry expression. “I am Emilia ... Francisco!”

“Well, Emilia Francisco,” said Pablo, “world-famous and beautiful Latin ballroom star, are you ready to take some photos with your equally famous dance partner and secret lover, the smoulderingly handsome Diego Cuaron?”

“Why yes!” said Emily, throwing herself into the part. “Let’s take some photos together, Diego, my love.”

Diego grinned. “Where do you want us, Pablo?”

“In front of the blue curtain,” said Pablo, switching on some very bright lights that lit up the room as if it was bathed in intense sunshine. “You’re the expert, so I’ll leave most of the poses up to you. Let’s see a typical dance position, like you’re in the middle of a routine.”

Diego raised his arms, and Emily stepped towards him, raising hers. He took her right hand in his left, and put his left hand behind her back. She in turn put her left arm around him.

“Okay, left foot forward, right foot back,” he instructed her. “I can’t see your hand behind me, but make sure your fingers are splayed.”

Emily nodded, and followed these and subsequent instructions, until Diego was satisfied with their pose.

“Great!” said Pablo, holding up a chunky black camera. “Now look at each other. Let me see the fire, the heat, the chemistry between you...”

Emily gazed into Diego’s eyes, and he into hers. She could certainly feel some chemistry; she felt as if she was melting inside. He looked as if he were about to kiss her. Her eyes widened.

“Excellent!” said Pablo, having snapped them from a couple of different angles. “Now look at the door. Give me ... focus and determination. Emily, try not to squint; I know it’s hard with the brightness. Good! Now a smile for the camera. Not too cheesy ... Emily, a little less eager. That’s it. Now, let’s try a different pose.”

Diego re-posed them, and Pablo took more photos. Then he asked for a new pose ... and so it continued. Emily quickly got used to the kinds of expressions Pablo liked to see, and proved adept at instantly adopting them when directed.

“Okay, so far so vanilla,” said Pablo. “Let’s sex it up a bit. Latin ballroom is supposed to be sexy, right? Diego, how about you hold Emily real close, and the two of you put your faces together, your lips almost touching. Emily, close your eyes; Diego, keep yours open.”

“Hmm,” said Diego. “Emily, stick your left leg out, right past me, fully extended, and support yourself with your right. Lean back over my arm; I’ll do a lot of the supporting myself.”

Blood rushing to her cheeks, Emily leaned backward against Diego’s broad hand in the middle of her back. He bent over her, pressing his forehead to hers, while placing his free hand on her chest, just above the bulk of her left breast. Emily’s breathing quickened.

“Perfect, nice job!” said Pablo. “Now let’s have you both standing up, facing me, with Diego behind Emily. Good, yes. Diego, put your arms around her, and kind of loom over her right shoulder ... and Emily, you reach up with your right hand and cradle his cheek, while looking over towards the mirror with a ... a soulful expression, I guess. Like you know you should resist your feelings for him, but you also know that it’s hopeless to do so.”

Emily was enjoying the acting side of this process, and the warm breath of Diego on her neck was making her feel a little tingly. But she felt as if she should do more than just stand upright with one arm raised to Diego’s face, so she stuck her right leg out a little, and bent her left knee, adopting what she hoped was a suitably Latin ballroom pose.

“Oh, that’s good,” said Diego approvingly.

Pablo took a couple more photos. “Diego,” he said, “let’s have your right hand tucked just inside Emily’s dress, beneath her left breast, while your left hand is grasping the edge of her dress and pulling it open, like you’re about to expose her left breast...”

“What?” Emily gasped.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Pablo quickly assured her. “Diego won’t be touching anything he shouldn’t, and we won’t be exposing anything either. It’s the suggestion of naughtiness, without any actual naughtiness. Is that okay with you? I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you into something that makes you uncomfortable.”

“No ... it’s okay,” said Emily hesitantly. She did not want compromising photos of herself to appear on the internet ... but on the other hand, she was enjoying this experience and did not want it to stop. Pablo seemed concerned about her comfort level with what he was doing, which was reassuring. “Sorry, I’m just not used to this kind of thing,” she apologised.

“That’s totally fine,” said Pablo. “You two are the stars of this photo shoot, so if you’re not happy, I’m not happy.”

“I’m happy, really,” said Emily, as Diego slipped his hand inside her dress and grasped her torso a couple of inches below her breast. Then he took hold of her dress with his other hand, and pulled it to the left, exposing a little more of her left breast.

“Great!” said Pablo, taking another photo. “Now Emily, would you mind if Diego bends down and kisses your neck?”

Emily blushed. She did not mind at all, as long as it was justifiable in the context of the photo shoot ... but she was a little nervous about where this was going. “Um, I don’t know,” she said nervously. “I suppose ... if it’s necessary for the photo...”

“Kissing – or the pretence of kissing – is actually quite common in Latin ballroom routines,” said Diego. “They’re naturally quite passionate and intimate, so there’s often some touching and kissing involved. And yet the dancers are usually completely platonic in real life! It’s just an act, part of the performance. I don’t know if that makes you more comfortable with the idea...”

“It does,” Emily admitted. “Thank you.”

“While Diego’s kissing your neck,” Pablo continued, “I’d like you to close your eyes, and smile slightly. And can you clutch the hem of your dress with both hands, and lift it up a bit?”

Emily bit her lip. “Um ... I guess...” She lowered her hand from Diego’s face, took hold of the asymmetric hem of the dress with both hands, and hoisted it up an inch or so. Then she closed her eyes, and smiled a little as Diego pressed his lips to the side of her neck.

“Nice,” said Pablo, snapping another photo or two. “Pull that dress up a little higher though please, Emily.”

Emily opened her eyes. “I don’t ... won’t that show my panties...?” she asked nervously.

Pablo chuckled. “Emily, I’ve seen enough Latin ballroom routines to know that the female dancers are pretty unabashed about flashing their panties. They’re always flinging their skirts around, hiking them up, doing splits or high kicks ... you just watch any routine on So You Think You Can Dance. Any Latin ballroom routine I mean. They show their panties all the time.”

“It’s true,” Diego agreed, lifting his lips from Emily’s neck. “Remember: you are not the quiet, shy, suppressed religious girl, Emily; you are Emilia Francisco, the fiery, passionate Latin dancer! Immerse yourself in the character.”

“Right!” said Emily, nodding her head firmly. And as Diego kissed her neck again, she closed her eyes and parted her lips, hiking up her dress and exposing part of the front of her panties.

“Good, good!” said Pablo excitedly. “That’s excellent, both of you. Raise your hand a bit, Diego; make it look as if you are cupping her breast.”

Emily gasped as she felt Diego’s fingers contact the underside of her breast, but she was determined not to break character. She clutched her dress more tightly, flexing her arms a little and pulling the hem up even higher.

“Great stuff!” said Pablo, taking more photos. “Now turn your head up toward Diego, Emily ... and let’s see a nice kiss on the lips. No tongues, obviously!”

Emily almost faltered, but she knew that Emilia Francisco would not shy away from a kiss with the handsome Diego. She turned her face upward, and an electric thrill ran through her whole body as she felt Diego’s strong lips on hers. Caught up in the moment, and feeling as sexy as she had ever felt, she pulled her dress up even higher, deliberately showing off the whole of her panties to Pablo’s camera. So many people had seen her panties already; what difference would a few more make?

At the same time, she felt Diego’s hand shift inside her dress, and then he was actually cupping her breast, gently squeezing it as he sucked her lower lip between his own lips. She uttered a soft moan.

“Fantastic!” said Pablo in delight, as he clicked and clicked, capturing the moment when Diego’s left hand pulled Emily’s dress so far aside that her breast would have been fully exposed if not for Diego’s right hand being in the way. But then, perhaps concerned about pushing his luck, he cleared his throat. “Okay, one more pose, and then I think we’re done.”

Diego pulled Emily’s dress back across her breast, and withdrew his other hand. “That was a little naughty, Diego!” said Emily with a nervous little laugh. But her disapproval was mostly for show; she had been thrilled to feel his hand on her breast while he was kissing her, and while she felt somewhat relieved when Pablo ended the moment, she could not help wishing he had waited just a bit longer.

“I’m sorry,” said Diego with a smile. “I was maybe a little too immersed in the moment. You and I seem to have good chemistry, don’t we? This feels very natural. It’s very good for a dancing partnership.”

“It does feel natural,” Emily agreed. “I’m glad it’s not just me that thinks so!”

“Okay,” said Pablo, “so I didn’t realise that you weren’t wearing panties to match the dress, Emily, until you revealed them. I’m afraid I won’t be able to use the whole of those shots for the webzine. I can still use close-up shots of your upper body, though. Let’s try one last pose, but we might have to get a little creative about coverage.”

“What do you have in mind?” Diego inquired.

“Let’s have Emily leaning back over your left arm,” said Pablo, “with her right leg sticking forward and her left leg pointing backward. How flexible are you, Emily?”

“I used to be able to do the splits,” said Emily. “I’m a little out of practice these days though!”

“Well I don’t need you to do the splits,” said Pablo, “at least not quite. But if you can keep both legs straight, while one is pointing forward and the other backward, that would be great. Nice clean lines.”

Emily adopted the pose he had described, but with the asymmetrical cut of the dress, this position meant that her dress could not cover her panties, and from where Pablo was crouching with his camera, he had a rather indecent view of them. “Um,” she said awkwardly, “I think my panties are going to be right in the middle of your shot...”

“Yes,” agreed Pablo, “hence the need to get creative. Diego, can you cover Emily’s panties with your hand...?”

Emily looked down nervously as Diego’s hand approached her panties. But it did no more than hover over them. “Like this?” he asked.

“Good,” said Pablo. “Now let’s have another kiss; a really good one. Show me that heat, Emilia; be the beautiful and sensual Latin ballroom goddess. Let’s have you pull your dress aside this time, grabbing and squeezing your own breast as Diego kisses you passionately. Put your other arm around his neck, for extra support.”

Emily was about to raise some concerns over the breast-squeezing instruction, but then Diego kissed her, and she felt herself melting again.

“Good!” said Pablo. “But Diego, your hand keeps wandering about and uncovering Emily’s panties; just lay your hand on them, so that it doesn’t move. Is that okay with you, Emily?”

Diego broke off from the kiss. “Sorry,” he apologised in a gentle murmur, “I know it’s quite a liberty, but ... may I? It won’t be for long.”

“Um ... okay...” said Emily breathlessly. She knew she should not be excited at the thought of Diego putting his hand there, but it was after all in the service of the photo shoot... She gasped as he gently cupped her through her panties, his warm hand cradling her pussy, his fingers pressing against her labia...

Then he kissed her again, and this time he slipped his tongue into her mouth, making her utter a muffled squeal.

“Very good!” said Pablo. “Keep it up, guys!”

Blood roared in Emily’s ears as she lost herself in the kiss. Nathan didn’t mind her kissing this way with Paul; hopefully he would be okay with Diego French-kissing her too. She did have a valid reason ... a sexy photo shoot ... which she was certain he would approve of. So she hungrily twirled her tongue around Diego’s, closing her eyes and giving in to the delicious sensuous pleasure of the experience. Diego was gently rubbing her pussy now, through her panties, but she didn’t mind; in fact she wanted it ... wanted more ... wanted him to rub harder. She wanted him to rub her like Alex had, during her wonderful, exciting, erotic massage. Remembering Pablo’s instructions, she pulled her dress aside, exposing her left breast, which she began squeezing and kneading as Pablo ecstatically took photo after photo.

Diego was indeed now rubbing her more firmly, his fingers exploring the contours of her pussy through her increasingly damp panties, pressing between her labia, stroking her clitoris. His tongue snaked around hers, his arm ... well, frankly, his arm was getting tired. He could only support her like this for so long. He was about to lay Emily down on the floor, when he heard the photographer clear his throat.

“Uh, guys?” said Pablo. “This is great stuff – I love how you’re both deep in character and throwing yourselves into the scene ... but I’ve got all my shots now.”

Emily, pulled back to reality, hastily rearranged her dress as Diego lifted her upright. “Thank you,” she muttered, her cheeks flushed crimson.

“Great job, both of you!” said Pablo. “I’ve definitely got enough partner shots for the webzine now. And I’ve got a few of Diego solo; I just need a few of Emily on her own.”

Diego turned to Emily, his expression slightly anguished. “Emily, I owe you an apology,” he said. “I got a little lost in the moment there, and I took it too far. I humbly apologise ... and I hope you can forgive me. If you want to cancel Monday’s dance lesson ... and all future lessons ... I’ll completely understand.”

“Oh ... well ... Diego,” said Emily, rather flustered. “It was quite a passionate pose we were doing, and I think we both got a little lost in it. Thank you for your apology; of course I forgive you. And I would very much like to stick with our appointment on Monday.”

Diego looked enormously relieved. “Thank you, Emily!” he said. “You are most kind. I’ll leave you in peace to finish off your photo shoot. Have fun – and I will see you on Monday.”

“Okay!” said Emily. She watched him descend out of sight down the ladder, and then she turned to Pablo. “All right, how do you want me?”

Pablo smiled. “I understand you’re a bit of a novice when it comes to Latin ballroom, but I’m sure Diego’s shown you a few moves and poses. How about you just strike a few poses that you’re comfortable with, and I’ll photograph them, and suggest tweaks as necessary?”

“That sounds okay,” said Emily, nodding. “Let’s see ... how about this?” She put a hand on her hip, with the other arm up in the air, twisted slightly, with her fingers splayed.

“Good!” said Pablo. “Can you do something with your feet too...?”

“Oh – yes,” said Emily. She stuck one leg forward, her knee bent, and the other back behind her.

“Great!” said Pablo. “Big smile...” He took a photo. “Very nice.”

For the next ten minutes or so, Emily went through various poses. When she ran out of ideas, Pablo showed her a magazine full of photos of Latin ballroom dancers, and she mimicked a few of their poses. She felt like a bit of a fraud, but Pablo seemed to like what she was doing.

“You’re great at this!” he said at last. “I mean, I can’t really comment on how good of a dancer you are, or could become, but I’ll tell you this: you’re a natural model, Emily. The camera just loves you.”

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said.

“I’m serious,” he said earnestly. “Listen, Emily, I think you could really have a future as a model, if you wanted it. And if you don’t ... perhaps you might be willing to do a bit of modelling for me, on a short-term basis...?”

“Oh!” said Emily, rather taken aback. She had not been expecting this, and was not sure quite what to think.

“Look, I really want to do this professionally,” said Pablo. “Make a go of it as a career. And I’ve tried! But my submissions to noteworthy catalogues and magazines have ... well, let’s say they haven’t had an enthusiastic response. I’ve tried clothing companies, sports magazines, lifestyle magazines, various retailers ... but with no luck. And maybe that’s partly me; maybe I’m just not that good. But it’s also at least in part because I haven’t had the best models to work with. Certainly no women of your calibre. I really think, if I could create a portfolio for you, and start putting it out there ... it would really put me on the map! And you too. Magazine and catalogue editors will be looking at your photos and thinking ‘Wow! Who’s that girl? And who took these awesome photos?’ You see? What ... what do you think...?”

“Well ... goodness!” said Emily, her mind reeling. “I ... I don’t know what to say!”

“Say you’ll think about it?” suggested Pablo hopefully. “Maybe that you’ll give it a try? I mean, at worst we don’t get any bites from major publications. But if we do ... do you know how much money you can make from a single photo shoot? If the editors like you ... and I’m certain they will ... they’ll be throwing money at you! Me too, with a bit of luck. What do you say?”

Emily bit her lip. Her, a model? It seemed unlikely ... and yet Pablo’s enthusiasm was infectious. And she and Nathan did need all the money they could get...

“I ... I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try,” she ventured.

“Excellent!” said Pablo. “Thank you! That’s wonderful! Well ... do you want to do a few photos now? The evening’s still young. We’ve already done a set in that dress, but what about the clothes you were wearing when you arrived?”

Emily’s cheeks reddened. Everything was happening so fast! “Okay,” she said. “Just let me get changed.”

“Sure!” said Pablo.

Emily went back behind the screen, and changed into her top and skirt. When she emerged, she bit her lip shyly. “Where should I...?”

“Have a seat on that chair,” said Pablo, gesturing. “Sitting sideways, facing toward the bed. That’s it, good. Right hand behind the back of your head. Arch your back. Smile! That’s great! Lovely. Left hand on the back of the chair. Lean back a bit – nice! Stick your right leg out and up in the air a bit. Great!” As he talked, he moved around, taking photos, zooming in, pulling back ... he seemed in his element. Emily smiled and laughed as he kept the compliments coming; she was having fun.

“Now,” said Pablo, “no portfolio is complete without some underwear photos. Are you willing to do a couple of those...?”

Emily shivered. “Um, I don’t think so,” she said. “For one thing, I’m not wearing a bra...”

“No worries,” said Pablo smoothly. “I totally understand. I just thought, since you had already shown your panties... Would you be willing to show them again, while keeping your top on?”

This seemed like a reasonable compromise. She was getting quite used to showing her panties, after all. “I guess so,” she said, nodding.

“Okay!” said Pablo. “Let’s ease into the panty shots gently. We’ll start with you standing by the chair, with your left hand on the back of it, with one foot raised behind you. Point your toes out sideways – yes, like that. Now hike up the side of your skirt to show your panties, and give me a little giggly sort of smile. Great! Oh yes, that was perfect.”

Emily giggled, genuinely. This might actually turn out to be quite fun.

“Now move over to stand in front of the black curtain, and face me directly,” Pablo instructed her. “Do a little curtsey, and hike up the sides of your skirt with your thumbs and forefingers, until your panties are just showing.”

“Okay,” said Emily, and she out on a shy smile as she curtseyed.

“Beautiful!” Pablo enthused, snapping more photos. “I’m loving those panties! Show me a little more ... good girl! Yes. Now, can you please take off those shoes, and climb on to the bed for me? Let’s have you on all fours. You’re a cat! Slinking your way across the bed.” He waited until she was in position, then he crouched down, raising his camera. “Hmm ... I can’t quite see your panties. Do you mind if I just...” He stood up and leaned over the bed, his hand outstretched.

“Um, no, go ahead,” said Emily, blushing.

Pablo tugged her skirt up, so that its hem climbed up and over the curve of her bottom. Satisfied, he went back to his crouching position, and raised his camera again, smiling at Emily’s exposed panties. “Right knee forward, left knee back,” he said. “Like you’re in the middle of crawling. Give me, like, a mischievous expression. Catlike, if you can manage? I don’t know if that’s even possib... Oh! Oh yes! That’s awesome! You’re so good at this, Emily.”

Emily glowed at the praise. “You’re giving good directions,” she said modestly.

“We make a good team!” said Pablo happily. “Now, can you arch your back a bit more? Stick your butt out ... actually you know what? I think it’s time to lose the skirt. Are you okay with that?”

Emily nodded. She had been expecting this anyway. Kneeling up, she unzipped her skirt and pulled it down to her knees. Raising one knee and then the other, she tugged it down to her ankles, and then off entirely. Pablo took it, and placed it on the chair. Then he resumed his position, as Emily resumed hers.

“Okay,” he said, “now arch that supple back of yours. Stick that bottom out ... and, if you could move your knees further apart...” He took a couple more photos, then he stood up and moved behind her. “Now could you look back at me over your shoulder...? Naughty little smile...?”

Emily was no longer quite so happy. This pose, particularly in light of the positioning of Pablo’s camera, was uncomfortably explicit. Moreover, she had a feeling that her panties, right between her legs, were visibly wet. Nevertheless, she put on a brave smile, and waited for a click that never came.

“Actually,” said Pablo, “this isn’t a good angle. Your panties are a little damp.”

Emily rapidly twisted her bottom away from his view, and then sat up in the middle of the bed, hugging her knees. “I’m sorry,” she said mournfully.

“Hey, don’t be sorry!” said Pablo, sitting down next to her. “Heck, it’s not your fault, is it? It’s entirely Diego’s! He just couldn’t resist having a good rub of your pussy, and it’s only natural for you to get aroused by that. It’s not a big deal; we can work around it. But now I feel like an asshole for pointing it out and making you feel uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention, Emily; I’m absolutely thrilled with your wonderful posing so far, and I’m quite frankly honoured and humbled that you’re allowing me to take these photos. And I promise, I won’t let you down. These will be amazing, beautiful photos. Photos you’ll be proud to include in your portfolio. And you know what the best part is?”

“What?” asked Emily, already feeling a little better.

“Most photographers consider the photos they take to be their own property, to be disposed of as they see fit. They don’t consult their models about which photos they send off to magazines, or wherever. But I’m not like that, Emily. I won’t include in your portfolio any photo that you don’t want me to include. I won’t send off to any magazines any photos you don’t permit me to send. If you think a particular photo is too graphic, or too unflattering, or just not a very good photo ... just say the word, and it’s out. Does that help?”

“Yes, enormously,” said Emily, relieved. She had not actually considered the possibility that Pablo might send out any of her photos without permission, but it was very encouraging to hear him lay out his philosophy like this. It made her feel safe. “I’m sorry I kind of freaked out there...”

“You got uncomfortable with the situation,” said Pablo. “It happens! Way more often than you would think. A sudden bout of nerves can strike the best of us ... and at any time. I should have warned you I was coming around behind you though; that was a big mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” said Emily warmly.

“Are you okay to continue?” Pablo asked her. “With a different pose, obviously.”

Emily nodded. “Yes – I’m okay,” she said. It helped to know that Pablo would be receptive to her concerns, if she had any in the future.

“Good,” said Pablo. “Let’s try something different. Why don’t you lie on the bed on your back? Toss your hair around as you lay your head down, so that it kind of surrounds your head, like the wind’s blowing it around.”

“Okay,” said Emily, and she tossed her hair around as she lay down on her back, with her legs out straight (and pressed together).

“Very nice,” said Pablo, getting up and standing astride her ankles. “Cross one knee over the other ... just a bit, not too much. And smile – not a big smile, just ... kind of wistfully. Yeah ... that’s it.” He took a photo that captured her from her hair down to just above her knees. “Love it!” He stepped down from the bed, and turned to face Emily as she sat up. “Could you slip those straps off your shoulders?”

Emily shivered. “It’s a pretty loose top,” she said. “The straps are the only things preventing it from slipping down off my breasts.”

“Okay,” said Pablo, “so ... let’s see ... yes. Go over to the black curtain, and face me with your hands on your hips, and the straps off your shoulders. Your arms will prevent your top from slipping down too far.”

Emily tried this, but the top was so low-cut that even a small amount of slippage caused her nipples to appear. “Oops,” she said, tugging her straps back up to her shoulders in embarrassment.

“Hmm,” said Pablo. “I see the problem. Okay ... well, what would you say to losing the top entirely? You can cover your breasts with your arm. I actually think that would be a superb shot: very sexy, but not actually showing your breasts. I’ll happily turn around while you get into position – if you’re willing to do the pose.”

Emily shivered a little. She was losing more and more clothes. If she took off her top, she would be dressed only in her panties. And yet ... he seemed fine with her not revealing her breasts. Perhaps it might even be quite artistic. And he had said she could veto any photos she did not like. “I’ll do it,” she said.

“Wonderful! Thank you,” said Pablo, turning away from her.

Emily took off her top. This was actually quite exciting! She would no doubt be in a state of panic right now, and desperate to go home, if she did not feel safe with Pablo. But he had done a good job of reassuring her, of building her trust, and so even though she still felt quite anxious, it was a tingly, thrilling kind of anxiety. “Okay!” she said breathlessly, her right arm covering as much of her ample right breast as its slender width could manage, and her hand covering a slightly larger portion of her left breast. “I’m ready.”

“Gorgeous!” he said. “Let’s have the other hand on your hip. Turn slightly to your right ... tilt your head back ... look at me with challenge in your eyes! As if daring me to take issue with your state of undress.”

Emily adopted a proud stance, and tried to glare at him. But then she giggled; it was too absurdly out of character for her.

“All right,” said Pablo, chuckling. “Let’s try...”

“No wait, wait,” said Emily quickly. “Let me try again.”

This time she nailed it. “Perfect!” said Pablo. “Now, could you get back on the bed please? Kneeling in the middle of the bed, and sitting on your heels? Facing away from me.”

Emily walked over to the bed, crawled to the middle on one hand and two knees, and got into position as requested.

“Now,” said Pablo, “drop both arms to your sides.”

Emily hesitated, then did so, knowing that Pablo could not see her breasts from where he was standing.

“Okay, now put your arms behind you and lean back, supporting yourself on your hands. And turn and smile at me over your shoulder.”

Emily did so, noting with concern that he had moved around a little to her right, so that he could probably see the side of her breast. For a moment she considered objecting, but then she decided that, if she was honest with herself, by this point she did not really mind. She was fairly sure that – as with every other man who had seen them – if he saw them properly, in all their naked glory, he would be a fan. And she was also sure that Nathan would not mind that at all; she could already picture him hanging on her every word as she related to him the story of this photo shoot.

“Okay,” said Pablo carefully, “in that shot I did in fact capture the side of your right breast. There’s no nipple visible, I hasten to add. But I think it’s a beautiful photo.”

Emily blushed. “I guess that’s all right,” she said.

Pablo took a deep breath, and decided to go for broke. “Actually, Emily, what I’d really like to do is take a proper topless photo of you. It’s really a very common thing to do in modelling, and, well, I’m pretty sure you have much to be proud of where your chest is concerned. This will, I assure you, be the final photo of the session; I’ll ask no more of you this evening. Will you please do me the great honour of allowing me to photograph your breasts?”

Emily bit her lip. He could hardly have asked more nicely. And she was fairly certain that Nathan, if he were here, would encourage her to go for it. But the thought of topless photos of her even existing was almost enough to give her a panic attack. “I ... I’m afraid it’ll get out somehow,” she said. “I really don’t want any nudity in my portfolio. And I absolutely don’t want a topless photo of me going out to any magazines!”

“It doesn’t have to,” Pablo assured her.

“Will you ... promise me that?” Emily asked anxiously.

“Yes, absolutely!” said Pablo. “At least ... I’ll make that promise, with one proviso.”

“What’s that?” asked Emily.

“It’s sort of like a condition...”

“No, I mean what’s your proviso!” said Emily, amused despite herself. “I know what a proviso is.”

“Oh, right, sorry. Here it is: I promise I won’t send your topless photo ... or indeed any photo ... anywhere without your permission.”

“I guess that’s good enough,” said Emily, and ... after a long hesitation, she slowly swivelled herself around to face Pablo.

“Whoa,” said Pablo in an awed voice, staring at her breasts. “Those could be the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen...”

Emily blushed deeply, and smiled. “Thank you,” she said. She found herself unable to look Pablo in the eye, but she could tell he was staring at her breasts. “Okay, please could you take your photo.”

Pablo nodded. “But it can’t be just any topless photo,” he said. “Breasts like yours deserve some thoughtful composition, not just a haphazard point-and-click. Hmm... Okay, I’ve got it. Give me a meditation pose; like in yoga. The lotus position! That’s the one.”

“Okay,” said Emily. She untucked her feet from beneath her, and sat down with her knees spread apart, then she lifted her left foot up on to her right thigh, and her right foot on to her left thigh.

“Wow, above and beyond!” said Pablo. “It’s cool that you can do that. All right, now, put your hands together in front of you, palms together, fingers together, fingers pointing straight up ... yup, but a little lower – don’t want to hide those breasts! Excellent. Close your eyes, try to look peaceful and calm... Hold that pose ... got it. Beautiful!”

Emily opened her eyes, and managed a little smile. “Thank you Pablo,” she said.

“No, thank you!” he said fervently. “Emily, seriously, you have a gift for this. And I like to think I have some talent for photography. Wait until you see these photos! I’d show you now, but it just wouldn’t be the same on this little preview screen – and I’ll want to touch them up, add filters, and so on. But just you wait! Together I think we can really make a name for ourselves!”

Emily was not at all sure about this – either that it was very likely, or that it was something she wanted to do anyway – but the mere possibility of earning more money for her and Nathan was appealing, and she had had a lot of fun doing it. She smiled. “I look forward to seeing the photos,” she said.

“Do you mind if we exchange phone numbers?” Pablo asked her. “Then I can text you when I’m done putting your portfolio together.”

Emily was about to reply automatically that she did not have a phone, when she remembered that this was no longer true. “Oh, yes!” she said. “I’ll have to see if I can remember how to add you to my contacts. I’m a bit new to this smartphone thing.”

Still dressed only in her panties, and thinking how sexy and naughty it was to be doing this before putting her top back on, Emily fetched her phone from her bag, and set Pablo up as a contact, with a little help from him. Then, finally, she put her top, skirt and shoes back on.

“Did you come by car?” Pablo asked.

“No, by bus,” said Emily.

“Oh, well would you like a ride home?” asked Pablo. “I don’t like to think of you travelling alone by bus this late.”

“Thank you, that would be very kind of you!” said Emily.

Pablo put his shoes on, and then he went down the ladder. Emily followed after him, wondering if he was looking up her skirt as she descended. He had seen so much of her already, she reflected, that it hardly seemed to matter if he did.

She gave him the Davises’ address, and watched with interest as he consulted his phone for directions. Then drove her home, and she bade him goodbye. “I’ll be in touch!” he said. “Have a good night, Emily.”

“You too!” she said.

She headed inside, and found Jacob and Mary in the living room. “Hi!” she said.

“Welcome back!” said Jacob.

“How was your photo shoot?” asked Mary.

“It was fun!” said Emily, her cheeks turning red. She very much hoped that they would not ask to see the web magazine once her photos were on it. “Pablo, the photographer, is a nice man. He actually ... he wants me to do some modelling for him...”

“Oh?” Jacob inquired. “Nothing improper, I hope?”

“Oh no!” said Emily hastily. “He’s hoping to get his photos in lifestyle magazines, catalogues for clothing companies ... that kind of thing.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got the looks for modelling!” Mary remarked. “I guess the question is whether it’s something you want to do. After all, you just got yourself an office job!”

“I know,” Emily agreed. “I’ve never even considered modelling before. I never thought I was pretty enough! But it was fun ... I guess I might consider doing a bit of that ... as a secondary job...? My job at Innesco is only part-time, unfortunately.”

“Oh?” inquired Jacob. “How many hours per week?”

“Thirty,” Emily replied.

Mary and Jacob looked at each other, and rolled their eyes. “Cheapskates!” Jacob grumbled. “They know that once you’re working thirty-two hours per week, you’ll count as a full-time employee, and they’ll have to give you benefits.”

Emily nodded. “Blake did mention that,” she said. “But he said that once I’ve proved myself, I’ll start getting more responsibilities, and more hours. And then benefits.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see how long it takes them to decide you’ve ‘proved yourself’,” said Jacob, sounding sceptical. “But congratulations, Emily, on both your Innesco job and your modelling opportunity – I just wish your fiancé was having similar success on the job front!”

“Me too,” Emily admitted. “Well, I’m going to head upstairs if you don’t mind; it’s been a long day and I’m feeling the need for a nice relaxing shower.”

“Of course!” said Mary. “Will you be playing video games with Paul later?”

Emily chuckled. “Probably,” she said.

Mary nodded. “Well, if the two of you need the TV down here, feel free to use it; Jacob and I will just go upstairs.”

“I don’t know if Paul’s fixed his yet,” said Emily, “but thank you – I’ll let him know.”

She went upstairs to her bedroom, where she grabbed a towel, a tank top, and a clean pair of panties, and headed to the bathroom. Under the shower, she began rubbing her pussy as she relived all the crazy and exciting events of the day. She could hardly believe everything that had happened! Having her bottom groped by her future boss during her job interview, pooping her panties in Nathan’s building and sitting in it while chatting to a friendly black kid, having to strip naked at the coffee shop and make her way back to Nathan’s building, playing a video game with Mack while naked, walking the streets in nothing but a sweatshirt that barely covered her bottom ... it was like some kind of bizarre dream! Then there was the photo shoot with Diego, when he had rubbed her pussy while kissing her in the most delightful way ... and the solo photo shoot afterwards, which had ended up with her letting Pablo photograph her in nothing but her panties!

As she neared what was shaping up to be a powerful orgasm, she inadvertently let slip a moan that sounded alarmingly loud in the echoey bathroom. She promptly froze in panic, wondering if anybody had heard it, and her imminent orgasm slipped away. Hastily finishing her shower, she got out and towelled herself dry. Putting on her tank top and clean panties, she went to her room, dropped off her towel and clothes, and was about to go and visit Paul when she heard a strange buzzing sound. It took her a moment to realise that it was her phone. “Oh!” she gasped, and hurried to pick it up from where she had left it on her dresser.

Nathan, it seemed, had just texted her: ‘Hi Baby! Just wondering if you were back, and how your photo shoot went.’

She texted him back: ‘It went very well! Kind of sexy – you would have approved! I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.’

‘I look forward to it!’ he replied. ‘I’m missing my sexy girl. Can you maybe please send me a selfie...?’

‘Selfie...?’

‘A photo of yourself, taken by you, with your phone. I really want to see you in your new nightie!’

‘I’m not wearing it right now. Would you settle for a tank top and panties?’

‘Awwww. Well, yes, I guess that sounds sexy too.’

Emily sighed. Nathan’s disappointment was tangible even through the phone. ‘All right, I’ll change into it. Just briefly, though – I don’t want Paul to see me in it!’

‘Haha! He’d probably explode out of his pants!’

‘Don’t be crude, Nathan. But yes, he’d love it, I’m sure.’

‘Awww. I hate to deprive the poor spotty teen. But ok. Let’s see it!’

Emily sighed, then she pulled her tank top off. Fetching her new negligée from her shopping bag, she put it on, and tied the strings at the front into a bow. She then picked up her phone, launched the camera app, and grimaced as she tried to figure out how to take a selfie.

Her first attempt resulted in a blurry picture of the wall. She managed to make it into the second, but again it was blurry. The problem was that the phone was hard to operate at arm’s length when she could not see the screen. But then she had the idea of taking a photo not or herself directly, but of her reflection in her mirror. This worked rather better, except that with the flash on, the picture was dominated by the bright glare from the flashlight, and with the flash off, the image was a little dark and grainy. Nonetheless, this was the one she sent to Nathan.

‘Beautiful!’ was his response. ‘Shame about the picture quality though! Can you take one in a brighter area, maybe?’

Emily pursed her lips. ‘Not without leaving my room!’ she typed. ‘Lighting isn’t great in here.’

‘How’s the lighting in Paul’s room?’

Emily rolled her eyes. ‘I really don’t think it’s a good idea to let Paul see me like this. It’ll give him ideas.’

Then the phone started buzzing repeatedly, and Nathan’s grinning face appeared. Emily tapped the icon to accept the call, and put the phone to her ear. “Hi!” she said. “This is better than typing.”

“Yeah, I figured it would be faster,” said Nathan. “So are you worried that Paul would ... you know ... force himself on you?”

“Oh no!” said Emily, shocked. “He wouldn’t do anything like that. But he does get pretty handsy during our goodnight kisses.”

Nathan chuckled. “Yes, so you’ve said. But as long as you don’t think he’s actually ... dangerous ... then I’m not sure what harm there is in letting him see your new nightie. If he tried anything, and you told him to stop ... he’d stop, right?”

“Yes,” Emily admitted. “Yes, I’m sure he would.”

“Then why not let him have an extra thrill tonight? Let him take a photo of you ... it’ll be better than a selfie ... and if he gets too enthusiastic during your goodnight kiss, just tell him to back off.”

Emily sighed. “Okay, if it’ll make you happy,” she said.

“It will!” said Nathan; she could almost hear him grinning. “It’s fun to think of some spotty, unattractive loser kid drooling over my super-hot fiancée, and copping a feel while she very generously allows him to put his tongue in her mouth. Wow – it’s an exciting mental image!”

“You’re a strange man, Nathan Carter,” she said disapprovingly. “I do think you ought to be more possessive about me and my body. But if you really want me to let Paul kiss me and grope me and see my almost-naked body, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Awesome!” said Nathan. “Thanks Emily – you’re the best fiancée! Talk to you later, okay? Got another call coming in.”

“Goodnight then,” said Emily, but Nathan had already hung up. She pouted, feeling rather disgruntled. Then she walked over to the door, opened it, and crossed the landing to knock on Paul’s door.

“Come on!” he said.

Emily entered, somewhat hesitantly. “Um, hi Paul,” she said timidly.

He looked up from his homework, and his jaw practically fell open. “Emily!” he gasped, transfixed by her nipples, very visible through the sheer pink nylon. “Have ... have I died? Have I died and gone to heaven?”

Emily blushed, and suppressed a little giggle. “Don’t be silly, Paul,” she chided him, as she closed the door behind her. “Nathan got me this new nightie, and he wants a photo of me in it ... but I’m not very good at taking selfies, it seems. Would you mind taking a photo please...?”

“You got a phone?” asked Paul in surprise, finally noticing it in her hand. “Cool! And yes, of course I’ll take a photo! I’ll take as many as you want! Oh my goodness, Emily, you look ... you’re incredibly beautiful! And that nightie just looks ... amazing ... on you. I can hardly believe my eyes!”

Emily smiled happily. Maybe this was not such a bad idea after all. Paul really was quite a nice boy, and his genuine, heartfelt appreciation was very sweet. “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “I wouldn’t have let you see me in it, if I hadn’t needed your help in taking a photo. But I guess I don’t mind you looking, since you’re being so nice about it. Anyway ... here ... just take a good photo of me, if you can, please.”

He took her phone, and looked around his room. “Uh ... maybe just stand in front of the door?”

She did so, and posed, as he raised the phone. She smiled, and he stared for a moment at the screen. Then he stepped forward, handing the phone back. “There, see what you think.”

She looked at the photo he had just taken. It was perfect – exactly what she had wanted. “Thanks Paul!” she said. “Let me just send this to Nathan...”

Paul waited patiently, taking the opportunity to bore holes in her negligée with his eyes. Then he said, “Wanna come downstairs and play a game with me?”

“Sure,” said Emily, having just hit Send. “I’ll just go and change.”

“Oh, please don’t!” Paul begged her. “I just love this look; can’t you keep it on...?”

“Paul, I can’t go downstairs like this!” she said with a shudder. “Whatever would your parents say?”

“They’ll be cool about it!” Paul assured her optimistically. “They’ve been cool so far, right?”

“Yes, but I’m sure they have their limits!” said Emily. “And I suspect that me wandering around the house with my breasts visible would be crossing a line!”

“Let me go and talk to them,” said Paul urgently. “Please? I’ll tell them Nathan got you a new nightie, and you’re afraid to come downstairs in it because it’s very revealing ... and I’ll let you know what they say. If they seem uneasy at the thought of you coming down in a sexy nightie, then fine, I’ll admit I was wrong, and you can go change. But if they say you shouldn’t worry about looking too sexy, and should come down anyway ... will you please consider it?”

“I don’t know,” said Emily uncomfortably. “I just don’t like the idea of your parents seeing me like this.”

“Even if they’re kind and accepting and non-judgmental about it?” asked Paul. “Where’s the harm? Don’t you think it might be ... fun? I’ll tell you what.” Paul took a deep breath, and went for broke. “If I’m wrong ... I’ll forgo my goodnight kiss with you tonight.”

He looked so anguished at the mere prospect of this that Emily chuckled. “You sure you want to risk that possibility, Paul?” she asked.

“I’m sure Mom and Dad will be cool,” he said. “But I gotta admit, it’s really going to suck if I’m wrong.”

“Fine,” said Emily, with a sigh. “Go and ask them. But make sure you tell me honestly what they say!”

“I will!” Paul promised. Then he grinned. “If I’m right, though, how about we do our goodnight kiss a little differently this time?”

Emily regarded him warily. “Like how?”

“I wanna do it lying down,” he said eagerly. “On your bed.”

“Oh no,” said Emily firmly. “That would definitely not be appropriate.”

“Why not?” Paul inquired. “I’m not asking to have sex with you, Emily. We’ll be doing the same things we’ve done before ... just horizontally instead of vertically. The only practical difference is that it’ll be more comfortable. Don’t you like being comfortable?”

“Of course I do,” said Emily, her cheeks reddening. “But I’m not sure that lying down for our goodnight kiss will make me feel comfortable. I feel like it would be asking for trouble.”

“What trouble?” Paul asked innocently. “Are you worried I’ll try to ... force myself on you? Don’t you know I’d never do that?”

“I do know that,” Emily admitted. “You’re a nice boy, Paul. I just don’t want you to be ... tempted unnecessarily.”

“Trust me, I’m already tempted!” said Paul with a grin. “Kissing you has been the highlight of my life, and I love that you let me grope you while I’m doing it. But aside from groping, what are you afraid of? If I do something you don’t like, and you ask me to stop, I’ll stop! It’s that simple. Isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” said Emily uneasily. “I guess I’m concerned you’ll try to push it too far ... but I do believe that you’ll stop if I ask you to. Okay, I guess we can kiss lying down ... if you’re right about your parents approving of my nightie.”

“Awesome!” said Paul happily. “I’ll be right back!” He dashed from the room, leaving Emily a little bemused and wondering how he had managed to talk her into even considering this. Nathan, she was sure, would be thrilled to hear about it. She sat down on Paul’s bed, and waited.

Three minutes later he returned, and she could tell from the way his eyes were shining that it was good news ... for him. “Mom and Dad say they’re sure it’ll be fine if you come down as you are,” he reported. “So come on – let’s go and play a game!”

“Oh goodness,” Emily muttered as she followed him out of the room. She tiptoed down the stairs in his exuberant wake, and cautiously entered the living room.

Jacob and Mary looked up, and their surprise was as palpable as Paul’s had been, though they masked it better. “Oh!” said Mary, her eyes wide. “My, that IS revealing, isn’t it? Paul, you didn’t say it was completely see-through!”

“I’m sorry!” said Emily, starting to back away, with her hands over her chest.

“Oh, please don’t be alarmed, Emily,” said Mary hastily. “It’s just that Paul inadequately prepared us. I wasn’t expecting ... I mean, excuse me for saying so, but that’s quite the sexy nightie!”

“It really is!” Jacob agreed. “Very sexy. But ... I have to say ... I don’t, personally, have a problem with it. Do you, Mary?”

“No – definitely not,” said Mary firmly. “It’s very skimpy, certainly, not to mention transparent ... but I think it suits you very well.”

“It does,” Jacob confirmed. “Emily, you’re a very pretty girl, and it’s a very pretty nightie. It’s a perfect match, really!”

“Absolutely,” said Mary, smiling warmly. “I do think Paul should have described it a little more accurately, but ultimately he was right: you can certainly wear that around the house. I think you look just lovely in it.”

Emily blushed. “It ... it doesn’t offend you that my ... my breasts are visible?” she asked, hesitantly lowering her hands.

“It’s the design of the garment,” said Mary, with a shrug. “Sure, you could wear a bra underneath it, but we’ve already said you’re welcome to go braless in our house, and I stand by that. Plus, your breasts are extremely attractive, so it’s very hard to be offended by them!” She laughed, and so did Jacob.

“Thank you,” said Emily, grateful for the compliment but nonetheless a little mortified.

“Well, I’m guessing the two of you want to play a game together,” said Jacob, “so we’ll get out of your way. Have fun!”

“Thanks,” said Paul. Once his parents had left the room and gone upstairs, he said cheerfully, “See, what did I tell you?”

Emily turned toward him, and swatted his arm with her hand. “You didn’t even tell them my nightie was see-through??”

“Ow!” said Paul, rubbing his arm. “I said it was very revealing! I didn’t go into specifics. It’s not my fault if they didn’t picture it a certain way.”

“You could have told them it was see-through!”

“Okay, yes, I guess I should have mentioned that,” Paul admitted, looking chastened. “I’m sorry, Emily. But I don’t think it would have made a difference, ultimately. Do you? Even though they were surprised by your nightie, they still liked it and accepted it. Right?”

“Right,” Emily conceded reluctantly.

Paul smiled. “Okay, so let’s play. What do you fancy?”

“Fists of Fire?” Emily suggested.

“Sure!” said Paul, and they battled each other for most of the next hour. Emily won about a third of their battles, and when she asked Paul playfully if he was letting her win, he candidly admitted, “Not always!” Which made her feel quite good about how much she had improved in a short time.

When Paul finally turned to her and said, with an impish grin, “Time for bed?”

Emily shivered slightly, knowing what was coming. “Let me just go to the bathroom,” she said. “I’ll see you in my room.”

Paul nodded. “See you shortly,” he said. “I’ll brush my teeth first.”

“Thank you, that would be appreciated,” said Emily. She got up, headed up the stairs, entered the bathroom, and sat down to pee. Her bowels felt full again, which made her brow furrow. Her new cereal was definitely having a strange effect on her, increasing the volume and frequency of her bowel movements by a significant degree. Should she stop eating it?

On the one hand, it would be awful indeed if she were to have another accident in public. She had got away with it this morning, but she might not next time. On the other hand, it was not as if the accident had come entirely out of the blue. She had had a few warning signs, and could have preempted the accident with a timely visit to a toilet. This would have robbed her of the fun she had ended up having, on the roof with Lenny, but it would certainly have been a safer option.

Then again ... the accident itself had felt rather wonderful. Having her poo come out of its own accord, despite her efforts to stop it, slithering out and filling her panties with a smelly and squishy mountain of filth, was in hindsight really very erotic and exciting. It had felt so good as it came out: thick and smooth and soft... The prospect of future accidents was not without appeal.

She shivered. She was feeling very aroused. Thinking about her poo was exciting her ... but in truth she had been oscillating between borderline and extremely horny for most of the day. And now she was about to have a goodnight kiss with Paul while lying down. She trusted him not to use force on her, but she was also fairly sure he would find some way to escalate their make-out session beyond last night’s level ... and that prospect was making her pulse quicken.

She went to her room, sat down on her bed, and picked up her phone. Nathan had texted her, in response to the photo she had sent him: ‘Awesome! Paul must have loved taking that! Lucky boy! Haha! Enjoy your goodnight kiss with him!’

She thought about how she would reply to this, but she had not yet decided on a suitable response when there was a knock on her door. “Come in,” she said.

Paul entered. Emily’s cheeks flushed at the sight of his boxer shorts, which were bulging in front. He came and sat down next to her. “Ready?” he asked in a soft voice.

Emily nodded, and lay back on her elbows, swinging her legs up to the bed and pulling herself backward until she could lay her head down on her pillow. Paul lay down next to her, grinning as he lay on his side, facing her. He looked down from her face to her chest, then he deliberately reached over and grasped her left breast through her negligée.

“Paul...” said Emily in a warning tone.

“What?” he asked innocently, and he bent his zit-ridden face down to kiss her on the lips. She opened her mouth slightly, and his tongue slipped inside. Her heart pounding with anticipation, she responded with more enthusiasm than she had on any previous occasion.

As the intensity of their kiss escalated, Paul let go of her breast, and instead put his arm around her, pulling her on to her side so that she faced him directly. She put her arms around his neck, and then lay back down as the two of them rolled over together, with Paul on top.

Emily broke off the kiss with a gasp as she felt the hard vertical ridge in his boxer shorts, pressing against the front of her panties. “Paul, you shouldn’t be on top of me...” But her clitoris was craving attention, and when his only response was to kiss her again, she did not resist. She did utter a muffled grunt of reproof when his right knee sank between hers, but then he began slowly dry-humping her, the ridge of his cock pressing her panties between her labia, and she moaned and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He reached down, grabbed her left leg under her knee, and pulled it up by his side. Then he did the same with her right knee, spreading her thighs, while continuing to thrust his cock against her pussy.

She broke off again. “Paul, I think we should stop there...” But it was duty, not desire, driving her to say this.

“Not yet,” he pleaded, his cock rubbing up and down the cleft between her labia through two layers of material. “Just one more minute?”

“Ahh ... okay...” Another minute would not hurt...

As they resumed kissing, Emily felt Paul’s hand return to her right breast ... and this time he was clutching her bare skin. Somehow he must have sneaked his hand beneath her nightie. Naughty boy ... but it felt nice ... as did his cock rubbing her clitoris... She realised she had wrapped her legs around his back, and was actively grinding her pussy against his cock. Now he was squeezing her left breast, also beneath her nightie. He must have pulled the two halves apart.

“Okay, that’s enough!” she gasped, pushing against Paul’s shoulders.

He propped himself up on his arms, and smiled down at her. “Thanks Emily,” he said. “That was a wonderful kiss.” He was still gently thrusting his cock between her labia; her wet panties were sliding against her clitoris.

“It was,” she agreed, anxious and yet reluctant for him to stop what he was doing. “Goodnight Paul.”

He climbed off her, and she realised her negligée was wide open, her breasts fully exposed. She gasped, and pulled it closed. “How did you undo my nightie?”

He grinned. “I just pulled on one of the strings. Your boobs are so beautiful, Emily. It was a privilege to touch them.”

She had neither the heart nor the energy to be upset with him. “Thanks Paul,” she said. “Sleep well.” Then she thought of something. “Oh – what time’s church in the morning?”

“Ten o’clock,” he replied. “And we’ll be having breakfast at nine.”

He left the room, and she reached for her phone. ‘Just finished goodnight kiss. Most intense one yet! Paul managed to undo my nightie somehow and was fondling my bare breasts!’ She hesitated before hitting Send, worried that Nathan might be upset. In the light of his previous reactions, though, she thought it unlikely, so she plucked up her courage and sent the text. She felt she ought to tell him about the dry-humping, too ... but decided it would be prudent not to lay too much on him at once.

‘Whoa! He’s getting bolder!’ was Nathan’s reply.

‘Are you upset?’ she asked.

‘No, not at all,’ he responded. ‘I think it’s cool that you’re letting him do these things.’

Emily stared at her phone in bemusement. Then, after some careful consideration, she typed, ‘Is there anything he could do that you wouldn’t approve of??’

The response came quickly. ‘Of course! Obviously don’t let him have sex with you. Your first time needs to be with me, on our wedding night. And mine with you, naturally. We have to lose our virginity to each other.’

Emily sighed with relief. She had always known this to be his position, but it was good to have him confirm it in the light of recent events. ‘Good – I agree!’ she typed. ‘You’re coming to church tomorrow, yes? Jacob’s church – service is at 10:00.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it!’ he replied. ‘See you there.’

‘Goodnight Nathan.’

‘Goodnight Baby.’

She switched off her light and pulled the sheets over her. Remembering she had not yet said her prayers, she closed her eyes and hurried through them. Then, reaching into her panties, she masturbated for all she was worth, and climaxed in mere seconds. Exhausted, she soon fell into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of rain outside...

DAY 6 – SUNDAY

When Emily awoke, her bowels felt very full. The possibility of having an accident in church seemed very real, and too horrifying to contemplate. But it did not seem likely that she would get an opportunity to enjoy a nice panty-filling adventure before then. Unless...

She sat up, and looked at the clock. It was just after half past six in the morning, and all seemed quiet in the house. She knew that breakfast would be at nine o’clock... but what time was Mary likely to get up? Probably not as early as this, on a Sunday morning; maybe the entire family would be in bed until seven-thirty or so.

She cautiously left her room, went to the bathroom, and peed. Having washed her hands, she crept out on to the landing, and listened. No sounds were coming from either Paul’s or his parents’ bedrooms. Perhaps she could poop in her panties, enjoy herself for a little while, then clean up, all before anyone else got up.

She sighed. It was a foolish idea. Anybody might get up and try to go to the bathroom while her panties were full, and by that point the smell might be awful. The best option was probably to just poop in her panties, then empty it out right away. Not very satisfactory, but better than nothing.

Then again ... what if she panty-pooped in the back yard? She could enjoy herself for a while, then rush inside and get to the bathroom ... and no doubt find it occupied. Then she would be in trouble.

Nonetheless, the notion did have its appeal. She quietly descended the stairs, then went into the kitchen. The table, she was pleased to see, was already laid for breakfast. This was a good sign; it suggested that Mary intended to sleep in.

She unlocked the back door, opened it, and flipped the catch so that she would not lock herself out again. Walking out on to the cool, dewy grass, she relaxed her anus and gently pushed, toying with the idea of filling her panties out here. But then she clenched, not quite brave enough to go through with it.

The sound of panting, and then a dog’s low bark, caught her attention. A man’s voice said, “Hush, Frosty.”

“Is that you, Harry?” asked Emily, glad of a momentary distraction from her dilemma.

“Good morning Emily!” Harry replied. “You’re up early!”

“You too!” said Emily. “Are you taking Frosty for his walk?”

“Actually we just got back,” said Harry. “He got me up before five o’clock this morning, would you believe it? Dawn comes so early at this time of year; there’s no convincing him it’s still nighttime.”

“I can imagine!” said Emily.

“How about you?” Harry inquired. “What brings you out here so early on a Sunday morn ... oh!” He fell silent.

“What?” Emily asked, wondering if something was wrong.

“Oh, well, I just suddenly realised what might have brought you out here,” said Harry, and he chuckled.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Harry!” she said. “No, I haven’t ... done what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” said Harry. “That’ll teach me to jump to conclusions. I do apologise.”

Emily sighed. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Honestly ... I did consider it. But with Jacob and Mary and Paul inside ... and knowing they could get up at any moment ... I just don’t dare. What if I went back inside to clean up, and one of them was already in the bathroom?”

“The Davises only have one bathroom?” Harry asked in surprise.

“There is another one in the basement,” said Emily, “but the whole basement is basically a construction site right now, and has been for a while. Apparently Jacob’s got big plans for it, and I’m sure it’ll be great ... but right now the plumbing doesn’t work down there.”

“Pity,” said Harry. “Well look ... if it helps at all, you can always come over here to my house, whenever you want, if you’re feeling the need to poop in your panties, and you need a safe and private space in which to do that.”

Emily gasped. “Harry!” she exclaimed. The effrontery of the offer ... was rapidly eclipsed by its appeal. “But the smell! Would you really want that in your house?”

“I’d be more than happy to put up with it,” Harry replied. “Seeing you on Friday morning with your panties all full and bulging with your poop ... it was kinda fascinating! And, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, kinda sexy. It would be an honour for me to host your next panty-pooping adventure.”

“Oh!” said Emily, shocked but intrigued. This would certainly solve the problem of having to plan such adventures around the Davises’ absences from their own house. “Well ... thank you, Harry! That’s a kind offer, and I think I’d like to take you up on it!”

“Excellent!” said Harry. “Come on over, then!”

“What ... now?” said Emily, feeling a little flustered.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you meant...” Harry trailed off.

“Well I do actually need to ... you know,” said Emily, “but I’m not dressed right now.”

“You came outside in just your panties again??” Harry asked in surprise.

“No!” said Emily. “I’m wearing a nightie this time. And panties. But the nightie’s kind of skimpy – I can’t go out front like this.”

“Huh!” said Harry. “Well ... you know ... I could show you something you might find useful...”

Emily pursed her lips warily. “What’s that?”

“Come to the corner of the yard,” said Harry. “There’s a couple of loose planks. It’s a secret way from your back yard to mine ... for those who are younger and more flexible than I am.”

“Harry...” said Emily hesitantly. She was reluctant to let him see her in her negligée ... but the advantages of such a route were obvious. “Okay, fine, I’ll take a look.” She walked over to the corner of the yard, and saw that Harry had pulled two vertical planks aside, in opposite directions, making a triangular gap which was just large enough for her to squeeze through.

“I should really fix this,” said Harry. “The plank at the bottom is kind of rotten and the screws came loose. But this might prove handy for you, yes?”

“I suppose so,” Emily conceded. So another man was going to see her in her negligée. Perhaps it was not such a big deal this time; Harry had already seen her naked. “I just hope my nightie doesn’t snag on anything on the way through...”

“It shouldn’t,” said Harry, “but if you’re worried about that, you could always take it off first...”

Emily chuckled. “You wish! All right, I’m coming through.” She crouched down, and eased herself through the gap. As she stood up on the far side, she smiled at Harry, who was holding the collar of a panting dog. The dog was quite large, and mostly golden in colour, with white areas on his flanks, legs and chest.

Harry stared at her breasts. “That’s ... a very nice negligée!” he remarked, in a slightly strangled voice.

“Thanks,” said Emily, blushing. She folded her arms across her chest. “Hello Frosty!”

Harry allowed Frosty, his tail wagging, to approach Emily, who dropped her arms in order to reach down and ruffle the fur behind his ears. “He’s a lovely dog!” she said.

“Yes he is,” Harry agreed. “I’m going to leave him out here, I think, if you’re going to be pooping inside. Or did you want to poop out here...?”

“I suppose I should do it out here,” said Emily, “to spare the atmosphere in your house as much as possible.”

“Then I’ll put him inside,” said Harry. “Come on Frosty.” He took the retriever back inside his house, then he returned to Emily. “Okay, you’re good to go.”

Emily blushed. “Um, thanks,” she said. “Um...”

“Oh!” said Harry. “Did you want me to go inside too?”

Emily hesitated. The idea of having an audience was at once both alarming and intriguing. “I’ve ... never done it in front of someone before...”

“Well, I have to admit, I’d like to see it,” said Harry cheerfully. “But if it would make you too uncomfortable, I’ll just leave you in peace.”

Emily bit her lip. “I think I’m a bit too nervous to do it in front of you,” she said at last. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No problem!” he said. “Come inside when you’re ready. Take your time ... and have fun!”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully.

Once Harry had disappeared inside, she relaxed, and pushed. Her anus opened up, and a thick turd almost immediately began sliding out of her rectum. She bent her knees, spread her feet apart, and strained, forcing more and more poo into her panties. By the time she had finished, the gently lumpy bulge in the sagging material was larger than a grapefruit. She sighed with pleasure. “Ooh, you naughty girl,” she whispered, rubbing her clitoris through her panties.

After a few minutes of gentle rubbing while talking dirty to herself, she felt her orgasm approaching, but stopped herself on the brink. She did not want to climax out here, only to have to go inside, no doubt have to talk to Harry, and perhaps even negotiate his dog, while enduring the aftermath of her orgasm, when her diminishing excitement was being replaced by discomfort, a modicum of disgust, and a non-negligible portion of self-loathing. It would be far better to finish herself off in Harry’s bathroom, where she would be able to clean up right away.

She walked to his back door, opened it cautiously, and peered inside. “Hello? Harry?”

“Come in!” he called.

Emily stepped into Harry’s kitchen, and then walked quickly through to his living room, where he was sitting in an armchair. “Hi!” he said. “I shut Frosty in my bedroom upstairs. Are you done?”

“Yes,” said Emily, pink-cheeked. “Just need to clean up.”

“May I see?” Harry asked hopefully.

Still horny, and amped up on feelings of dirty naughtiness, Emily walked over to his chair, stopped in front of him, and turned around.

“Oh my!” said Harry. “It’s another big one, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Emily agreed. Then, feeling brave, she added, “I’m such a naughty girl, aren’t I?”

He looked up in surprise, but the back of her head did not clarify her intent. Deciding simply to play along, he said, “Yes, very naughty. Good girls wouldn’t do something so filthy and disgusting, would they?”

“No,” said Emily quietly.

But the role of disapproving disciplinarian ill-suited Harry, and he broke character almost immediately. “May I ... touch it?” he asked.

“Touch it?” Emily gasped. “Why?”

“Just to see how it feels,” said Harry. “Actually I thought I might cup it with my hand, to get an idea of how much it weighs. Sorry, is that weird? I’m a little unused to this kind of situation.”

“I guess ... you can do that if you want,” said Emily, after a moment’s thought. She could see no particular harm in it, except that it would make Harry’s hand smelly.

“Thank you,” said Harry. He shuffled himself forward in his chair, then he leaned close to her, reached out, and placed his hand, palm up and with spread fingers, underneath her bulging panties. Gently pressing his hand upward, he bounced the bulge a few times, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from Emily.

“It’s heavy!” he said. “Though, I guess, no more than I should have expected.” He now exerted a steady pressure on the bulge, slowly squishing it against her buttocks.

“Harry!” Emily gasped. “What are you doing?”

She was not pulling away, so Harry did not stop. “I just thought you might enjoy this,” he said.

Emily hesitated. “I ... I do,” she admitted. “But you’re going to get messy!”

“I don’t care,” said Harry with a shrug. He began slowly sliding the bulge around, smearing it against Emily’s buttocks and coating them with poo.

“I think I’d better go and clean up,” said Emily breathlessly.

Harry withdrew his hand, and Emily’s poo fell away from her bottom. “Okay, you go and clean up,” he said. “Thank you for letting me have a feel.”

“You’re welcome,” said Emily, her cheeks burning. “Upstairs I assume?”

“Actually there’s one down here,” said Harry. “Plenty spacious enough for your needs, unless you need a bathtub. It’s just got a shower.”

“That’ll be fine – thank you,” said Emily.

“That door right there,” said Harry, pointing.

“Okay – I’ll just be a few minutes,” said Emily.

She shut herself in the bathroom, and looked at the toilet. Its lid was smooth and shiny; it would wipe clean perfectly, and was therefore ideal. She closed it, sat down, and shivered as her poo squished between her buttocks and against her pussy. Reaching into her panties, she rubbed herself all the way to a thoroughly satisfying climax.

The clean-up, inevitably, was arduous, unpleasant, and time-consuming. She did not have to unclog the bend with her arm this time, mercifully, since the poo was no longer a single large lump, and moreover was rather softer than the last time ... but her panties took ages to clean. With vigorous rubbing and plenty of soap, she finally managed to get them looking like new again, though of course they were now soaking wet. She wrung them out, used wadded-up toilet paper to absorb more moisture from them, and finally put them back on. Along with the paper she had already used on herself and the toilet lid, these wads almost used up the rest of the toilet roll, which had started out as a cylinder of considerable girth.

Once she had cleansed her hands of all traces of poo smell, she returned to the living room and reported the excessive paper usage to Harry. “Sorry,” she apologised. “There was quite a lot of mess.”

“Don’t worry about it!” he said jovially. “This visit of yours was worth a thousand toilet rolls.”

For some reason, this struck Emily as hilarious, and she burst out laughing. Harry joined in, chuckling and shaking his head, while keeping an eye on Emily’s breasts, which were bouncing fascinatingly as her shoulders shook.

Once she had calmed down, Emily said, “Okay, I’d better get back. Hopefully I can sneak upstairs without being seen, but if not, I’ll just say I fancied spending a little time in the back yard.”

“Good luck!” said Harry. Then he snapped his fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot! Your dress!”

“What?” said Emily. Then she remembered. “Oh!”

Harry left the room, and returned a minute later with a clothes hanger bearing her white dress. “Rachel did a good job!” he said, handing it to her.

Emily inspected it. “Goodness, she really did!” she said. “Thank you so much! And please thank your daughter for me!”

“I will,” he said. “Be careful with it as you go back through the fence!”

“I will!” she promised him.

She left his house through the back door, trotted over to the corner of his yard, pulled the two loose planks apart, and squeezed through the gap, taking great care to snag neither her negligée nor the dress. Once in the Davises’ back yard, she tiptoed nervously to the back door, opened it, and crept inside. The kitchen, thank goodness, was empty. She stole quietly along the hallway to the stairs, and began to climb them.

Upstairs, she saw that somebody was in the bathroom. She reached her bedroom door without incident, slipped inside, closed the door, and heaved a sigh of relief. She had made it back, completing her panty-pooping adventure without a hitch. And it was all thanks to Harry!

She took off her damp panties and spread them out, on the floor out of sight, to dry. Putting on some clean white panties, she brushed and braided her hair while trying to decide on an outfit for church. By the time she had finished her hair, she had come to a decision: now that she had got it back, she might as well wear her white dress.

There was a knock on her door. For a moment she hesitated, conscious of the transparency of her negligée ... but the whole family had seen her like this, of course. “Um ... come in?” she said.

Paul entered, grinning. “Good morning,” he said. “I was hoping you might be up.” He was already dressed, in jeans and a plaid shirt.

“Good morning,” Emily replied. “Are your parents up too?”

“Nope,” he said. “They don’t usually surface until close to nine o’clock. So we’ve got almost an hour and a half to kill. I was wondering if you might like to go for a walk with me? There’s a trail near here that follows the river, and leads through a park and some woodland for about two miles...”

“Oh, sure!” said Emily. “That sounds nice.”

“Cool!” said Paul. “I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay,” said Emily, “I’ll be right down as soon as I figure out what to wear. I’d been thinking of my white dress, but it’s not really suitable for hiking...”

“It’ll be fine,” said Paul. “It’s not much of a hike; you’re not going to get dirty or sweaty or anything. I suggest you wear sneakers, but other than that, you’ll be fine in your Sunday best.”

“All right then,” said Emily, nodding.

Once Paul had left her room, she took off her negligée, then put on a bra; she had become quite accustomed to going without one, but church was church, and bralessness seemed far too indecorous for such a formal and solemn setting. It did feel a little odd to be wearing a bra again, but it certainly felt more decent. She put on her white dress next, followed by a pair of socks, and her sneakers. Then she left her room, went downstairs, and found Paul by the front door. “Okay!” he said. “Let’s go.”

The walk was as pleasant as Paul had described. Emily sighed happily as they walked along the river. “This was a good idea,” she said. “I love this trail.”

“Good, I’m glad,” said Paul, pleased to have made her happy.

A young man ran past, wearing headphones. Moments later, a young woman in a sports bra and yoga pants ran past in the opposite direction. “Runners,” Paul remarked disdainfully.

Emily felt a little defensive on their behalf. “What’s wrong with running? I used to be a runner.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Paul, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to be insulting. I just ... I dunno ... it just seems such an ostentatious form of exercise.”

“I doubt their motivation is showing off,” said Emily, “if they’re running at this time on a Sunday. Not a very big audience.”

“I guess so,” said Paul with a shrug. Then he looked at Emily with a quizzical expression. “You said ‘used to be’. Why did you stop?”

Emily sighed. “My breasts,” she said. “Too big for running.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t you, I dunno, wear a couple of sports bras or something?”

“I’d still bounce around,” said Emily. “Although ... maybe I’ve been worrying too much about that. I was always ashamed of my breasts, back in Oakwood. Here in the city, it seems everyone’s a fan – and that’s sort of changing my perspective. Maybe it’s not such a big deal if I’m bouncing around a bit.”

Paul chuckled. “Much as I’d like to see that,” he said, “I’ve always hated running. Our gym coach is kind of an asshole ... sorry ... a jerk. He was always picking on me for being too fat, too lazy, too slow...”

“Seriously?” asked Emily. “You can’t be the fattest kid in your class, surely?”

“Not now, I’m not,” said Paul. “I’ve slimmed down a bit as I’ve grown taller. I still hate running though; it feels like torture.”

“I’m sure it does, if you’re forced to run farther than you’re comfortable with,” said Emily. “The key is to pick a distance you can manage, get into a routine of running regularly, and then gradually increase the distance. You’ll naturally find you get better and better at it, and your times get faster.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Paul conceded. He was silent for a few moments, then he came to a decision. “All right, I’ll do it ... if you’re willing to run with me.”

The thought of running again was attractive, though it made her apprehensive. “Um ... okay,” she said. “I guess I am. When do you want to start?”

“Hmm,” said Paul thoughtfully. Then he frowned as he looked ahead. “Uh oh.”

It had rained heavily last night, and although they had so far been able to walk around the puddles in the trail, they were now coming to a larger puddle that stretched across the entire width of the path. To the left, the puddle extended well into the trees, while to the right it stopped at a wall of rock that ran for a hundred yards or so.

“Looks like we’ll have to turn back,” said Emily.

“Awww, we can jump it, surely?” Paul suggested. “I’m sure those runners did.”

“They weren’t wearing a dress!” Emily remarked.

“You can still jump it,” Paul argued. “That dress isn’t tight enough to restrict your freedom of movement.” He took a run at the puddle, and jumped across. “See? Easy. Can’t be more than, what, five feet?”

More like six, Emily thought to herself, but Paul was right – it did look jumpable. Taking a short run-up, she leaped across the puddle and landed on her right foot, with her weight on her heel. But the patch of ground she landed on – a few inches closer to the puddle than where Paul had landed – was muddier than it had looked, and Emily found her foot sliding forward unexpectedly. She flailed her arms and set her left foot down to compensate, but found herself off-balance. In desperation she tried to stagger backwards, in order to get only her shoes wet, but she was already falling, and a moment later she found herself sitting down hard, right in the middle of the puddle. She squealed in horror. “Ahh, my dress!”

“Oh no!” said Paul, his eyes wide. “I’m so sorry Emily, if I’d known that would happen, I’d never have suggested it!”

Emily grimaced as she felt the muddy water soaking into her panties. “It’s not your fault, Paul. Just me and my stupid, bad jump. I should have jumped further. I could have.” She sighed. “Oh well. I need to get back to the house so I can find something else to wear for church. Would you mind helping me up?”

“Sure,” said Paul, but then he hesitated. “May I ... may I please take a photo of you first?”

Emily’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Well,” said Paul with a sheepish grin, “you look kinda sexy like that, sitting in the puddle with your ... I mean ... I can see your panties from here...”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Paul, you get to see my panties every evening!” she said. “What’s so special about right now?”

“It’s just ... different,” he replied. “The fact that you’re sitting in muddy water ... I just find it kinda erotic. Sorry ... that probably sounds weird.”

Emily, thinking of her own fondness for sitting in her poo, shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’s weird,” she said. “But it’s not appropriate for me to be indulging your ... interests.”

“What about Nathan?” asked Paul quickly. “Mightn’t he find it sexy? I could take a nice photo of you sitting there in the puddle, with your panties showing, and you could send it to him saying ‘I fell in a puddle!’ Don’t you think he’d like that?”

“He might,” admitted Emily, “though I should really get back home and change...”

“It won’t take a minute,” Paul assured her, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Go on, what do you say? Sexy little gift for Nathan?”

Emily bit her lip. She had a feeling that Nathan would really love to receive a sexy photo from her ... and the fact that he would not be expecting it would make the gift all the sweeter. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “Although I’m not too happy about you having sexy photos of me on your phone. I wish I’d brought mine...”

“If you had, it might now be submerged in that puddle,” Paul pointed out.

“True,” Emily conceded. “Go on then, but just one photo; we don’t want to spoil Nathan!”

“You can send him just one,” said Paul, raising his phone, “but let’s take a few, so you have some choices if you don’t like the first one.”

Emily sighed. This did make sense, though she hoped Paul would not take too many. “How do you want me?”

“As you are,” said Paul, “with your knees up and your feet apart ... maybe with your feet and knees a little further apart. And leaning back a bit, with your hands behind you.”

“In the puddle?” Emily asked unhappily.

“Sure, why not?” said Paul with a shrug. “They’ve already been in the puddle.”

Emily leaned back, shivering as her palms and fingers sank into a quarter-inch of mud beneath the half-inch of water. As she moved her feet apart, along with her knees, her dress slipped a few inches up her thighs. Paul positioned himself almost directly in front of her, so that he could clearly see her panties. “Smile!” he said.

Emily smiled, a little ruefully, and Paul took a photo. “Great!” he said, and he took some more photos, from various angles. Then he paused, looking thoughtful. “Now could you maybe look shocked instead? Like ‘Oh no, my dress!’”

“Not a particularly difficult acting challenge,” Emily muttered, and she affected an expression very similar to the one she had worn upon landing in the puddle.

“Perfect!” said Paul. “Now can you lie back, supporting yourself on your elbows...”

“Paul!” said Emily in exasperation, “I’m messy enough as it is!”

“You’re going to have to change your dress and panties anyway,” said Paul pragmatically. “This won’t make any difference.”

Emily pursed her lips, but complied with Paul’s request. Her bare elbows squished into the mud beneath the puddle.

“Good!” said Paul. “Now let’s have your legs asymmetrical, like you’ve only just fallen and haven’t had time to get your limbs organised. Left knee a little higher ... right leg out a little wider. Ooh, yes...” He crouched down, grinning as he took another photo.

“Paul...” said Emily, uncomfortable with how widely she had just spread her thighs, and how closely Paul was staring at her wet panties.

“Relax, this is great stuff!” said Paul eagerly. “Nathan’s going to love it. There’s just one minor issue I need to fix...”

“What’s that?” Emily asked warily.

“Your panties are wet only halfway up,” said Paul. “There’s this line going across; looks kinda weird. If I just slosh some water over your panties to get them evenly wet all over...” He began to do just that, making Emily gasp.

“Paul!” she said.

“It’s done!” he assured her, prior to backing off and taking a couple more photos of her muddy water-soaked panties, moulding themselves to the contours of her pussy. “Now let’s get your knee a little further out...” He reached out and pushed her left knee outward, and in doing so also lifted her foot out of the puddle, putting it down again a few inches to the left of its prior position. “And now...” He gently repositioned her right leg as well, moving it further to the right, so that her thighs were now spread exceedingly wide apart.

“Paul...” said Emily. “I think this is a bit sexier than I want to send to Nathan...”

“Don’t judge it until you see it!” Paul urged her, pushing her dress further up, so that it was gathered around her waist. Then he began sloshing more muddy water over her panties.

“Surely they’re wet enough already?” said Emily plaintively.

“Yes,” agreed Paul, “but I want them a bit browner, to show how muddy the water is. Oh – hold on...” He dug his fingers into the muck under the water, and retrieved a small handful of mud. “Sorry about this – it won’t take a moment...” Then he plastered the mud over the front of her panties, down between her thighs to where they entered the water.

“Paul!” Emily gasped, shocked by his presumption, but also a little impressed. He was being super naughty, as he frequently was, but having mud slathered over her panties appealed to the same part of her nature as playing with her poo – her secret fondness for being messy and disgusting. So despite the fact that she knew she ought to stop Paul, she was feeling a strong desire to let him keep doing what he was doing.

Paul scooped up some more mud, and began massaging it into her pussy, through her panties. “You shouldn’t be doing that, Paul!” she exclaimed breathlessly.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, “but just bear with me for a moment – I think it’ll make an awesome photo if your panties are covered in actual mud.” As he spoke, he continued sensuously kneading her pussy through her mud-soaked panties. Then he went back for more mud, and repeated the process.

Emily bit her lip as she endured this, trying not to get too excited as she savoured the delicious feeling of having gloopy mud rubbed into her panty-clad pussy. After a half-minute or so, however, she knew she had to put a stop to it. “Paul,” she said sternly, “I think that’s enough mud for your photo. Hurry up and take it, and then let’s get home so I can clean up and change.”

“Okay,” said Paul. Washing his hand off in the water, and then wiping it on his jeans, he moved back a little, then took some more photos as Emily affected expressions of shock and mortification.

Finally, he crouched down and shuffled closer, then he began sloshing water over her panties again. “Just got to wash off that mud,” he explained, as he rubbed her pussy through her wet panties. Emily shivered, but said nothing.

When he had got her panties relatively un-muddy, if not exactly clean, Paul helped her to her feet. “I suppose you’ll have to change into a shorter dress,” he said mischievously.

“Or a longer skirt,” said Emily firmly. “We are going to church, after all. And it’s a Robertine church. Maybe I should put on one of my Oakwood dresses...”

Paul laughed. “Oh, don’t do that!” he said. “Our church isn’t like your church in Oakwood. We’re pretty modern. I’ve seen some pretty short hemlines there.”

Emily shook her head in puzzlement as she walked alongside him. “How can your congregation still be Robertines, then? If they’ve strayed so far from Robert McGowan’s teachings?”

Paul smirked. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

Emily looked at him in surprise. “Um, sure, I guess?”

“Dad’s in talks with Bishop Duffy,” said Paul, “to spin our church off as a separate denomination. They’ve been clashing for years over reforming the church, and I guess they’ve decided this is a reasonable compromise. You can’t tell anyone though – it’s not supposed to be common knowledge just yet.”

“Huh!” said Emily. “I must say I’m ... quite shocked!”

“Well, Dad’s mission to bring the Robertine church to Jonesburgh didn’t quite pan out how he originally intended,” said Paul. “City folks just weren’t into the old-timey clothing and strict rules and whatnot, so he had to adapt. And in the process, some of his ideas evolved. He says he still feels like a Robertine, but that his philosophy is more progressive and better suited to the society in which he lives. He sees it as New Robertism, or Robertism 2.0.”

“Interesting!” said Emily. “Well now I’m really looking forward to today’s service!”

Paul chuckled. “At any rate, you won’t be out of place with a shorter hemline.”

“Maybe I’ll wear my blue dress then,” Emily mused. “I do like that one. But ... ugh ... I can’t wear a bra with it!”

“So?” said Paul. “You’ve been managing just fine without a bra the past few days. Alternatively, you could always wear a t-shirt and a nice short miniskirt...” He grinned.

Emily pursed her lips. “I don’t think a miniskirt would be appropriate for church – even a progressive church. My flowery skirt, on the other hand...”

“The long one?” said Paul. “Ugh, please don’t. Your legs are way too beautiful to cover up like that.”

Emily said nothing, but she could not help smiling. Paul’s compliment might have had a selfish motivation, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, and it both reinforced and validated a realisation that had been growing inside her over the past few days: she liked wearing short hemlines. She liked the wide-eyed reactions she got from men, she liked the compliments she got from both men and women, and she enjoyed feeling like she was breaking free from the restrictive dress code of her hometown upbringing. In short, wearing miniskirts and short dresses made her feel sexy, and feeling sexy was fun.

They arrived back at the house, where Mary was already up. She emerged from the kitchen just as Emily was climbing the stairs.

“Good heavens!” said Mary. “What happened?”

Emily stopped and turned back with a sheepish expression. “I fell in a puddle,” she explained.

“Oh dear!” said Mary. “And in your lovely dress, too!”

Emily nodded ruefully. “I’m going to change – will my blue dress be okay for church, do you think? I can’t wear a bra with it, and it’s a bit shorter than this one...”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” Mary assured her. “You needn’t worry about that sort of thing at our church. We’re not very formal.”

“Yes, Paul was telling me the same thing,” Emily admitted. “But I ... I wanted to get a second opinion, I guess. It just feels weird to show my legs in church. Paul thinks I could even wear a miniskirt, but I can’t imagine doing that!”

Mary smiled. “Some of our younger female congregants wear shorter hemlines,” she said, “but it’s not very common, and the older women usually wear something knee-length or longer. But you should wear whatever you feel best expresses yourself. One of the tenets of Robertine Christianity, as you know, is that you should present the same face to other people as you do to the Lord. If you wear miniskirts all week and then put on a long dress for church ... God is not fooled.”

Emily blushed. “I’m certainly not trying to fool anyone, least of all God. I ... I just don’t want to offend anyone.”

“If you meet anyone who is offended by a miniskirt or short dress,” said Mary, “wouldn’t you like to know that about them to begin with? Better that, surely, than win them over at first with false modesty, then shock them later with a more risqué outfit. But I don’t think you need to worry; our congregation is pretty non-judgmental. Jacob is very big on leaving judgments to God.”

Emily nodded. “Well perhaps I’ll try a miniskirt next week,” she said. “Now if you’ll excuse me...”

“Of course,” said Mary.

Emily went upstairs to her bedroom, where she fetched another clean pair of panties, and her blue dress. Taking them into the bathroom, she stripped down to her panties, cleaned her slightly muddy legs and nether regions, and then got dressed, leaving her bra off this time. Carrying her sneakers and her dirty clothes back to her bedroom, she put on her nicest flat shoes, and then went back downstairs to join the others for breakfast.

Now she faced a dilemma. Her new cereal, she now knew, would cause her to defecate massively, and perhaps accidentally. She had thought about this a lot since her accident yesterday. On the one hand, tomorrow would be her first day working at Innesco, and the thought of having an accident there was horrifying. On the other hand, she could avoid that simply by pooping before she left for work. If she could be alone in the house for that, great ... but if not, then at least she would have forestalled an accident at work.

In the end, the thought of potentially filling her panties with a nice big load of warm, soft poo was too exciting to resist, and she helped herself to a generous serving of Branagram. As she ate it, knowing the effect it would have on her, she felt a familiar warm tingling in her loins. Tomorrow morning was going to be interesting...

Since Jacob had to leave early for church, Mary took Paul and Emily in her own car. The journey took a little less than five minutes, and soon Emily found herself walking into a red brick building with a steeply-sloping roof and a pyramidal steeple topped with a cross. Inside, Mary said hello to the two elderly greeters, and introduced them to her as Scott and Patty.

“Hello,” said Emily with a warm smile.

“Hello Emily, nice to meet you!” said Scott, his eyes flicking down to her chest and then up again.

Patty also could not resist a quick look at her chest, and Emily wondered how obvious it was that she was not wearing a bra. As she walked away from them, she heard Scott remark to Patty, in a voice of poorly-judged volume, “Well she’s a lovely thing, isn’t she?” Patty’s reply, if she gave one, was inaudible.

“Nathan isn’t here,” Emily noted aloud.

“Well, he’s still got ten minutes,” said Mary.

They picked a pew near the front of the church, and sat down. Emily pulled out her phone, checked the time, and put it away again. A few minutes later she checked again. It was now 9:58, and Nathan still had not appeared. She texted him: ‘Where are you?’

He had not yet replied when the organist began to belt out the tune for the first hymn, “Father in Whose Steps I Tread”. Emily rose to her feet along with the rest of the congregation, and began to sing.

It was a fairly conventional Robertine service, with prayers and lots of readings, which came exclusively from the Gospels. About halfway through, Jacob ascended the steps into the pulpit, and began his sermon.

“Modesty!” he boomed. “A subject very close to the heart of Robert McGowan, may his soul rest in eternal peace. But in the scraps of writings he left behind, he doesn’t really go into specifics, does he? No word on how high a neckline should be, or how long a skirt or dress should be. He deferred, as in most things, to the instructions of Jesus himself ... so what did Jesus say?”

He paused, and stared sternly around at his congregants. “Precious little, as it turns out! Not about clothing, anyway. Oh, he had plenty to say about modesty, though. And that’s where too many of us, even in the Robertine church, make a dreadful mistake. We hear the word ‘modesty’ and immediately think of modest clothing. But that’s not what Jesus meant by the word. As far as we know, he cared not a jot or tittle what people wear! When the Lord spoke of modesty, he was using its true meaning, which is the opposite of conceit. The opposite of pride. The opposite of ostentatiousness. The opposite of boastfulness. Robert recognised this, of course, with his prohibition on jewellery – excepting engagement and wedding rings. He also disapproved of makeup, though he stopped short of banning it. But he said not a word about clothing. It was his successor, Robert Bannon, who insisted on long dresses with high necklines for women. He also mandated hats and beards for men, but that instruction never really stuck. I wonder why?”

He paused again. “Consider, then, that Robert Bannon was to Robert McGowan, as Paul was to Jesus – an inferior teacher who sought to impose his own philosophy upon that of a greater man! Like Bannon, Paul had very strong opinions on how women should dress and behave, and Bannon drew heavily upon Paul’s epistles for his own teachings, which McGowan almost never did. But he did so inconsistently. Paul, for example, prohibited braids! Did you know that? Presumably Robert Bannon did: his memory was legendary, he could recite all four Gospels word for word, and he regularly quoted long passages of Paul’s letters. So why did braids become the default hairstyle for women in our sect? I’ll tell you why: because Robert Bannon liked them. He considered them ‘modest’. In this he clearly disagreed with Paul ... so whose opinion do we trust?”

Another pause. “The only opinion that matters,” he continued. “That of Jesus himself. And Jesus had nothing at all to say about women’s hairstyles. Or, indeed, women’s clothing. Which brings us back to what he DID say about modesty in general. Well, he instructed us not to be performative in our prayers, or in our charitable works. We must not pray, or give to the poor, for praise or recognition from our peers. We pray so we might be closer to God. We give to the poor for the same reason, and so that those less fortunate than ourselves may have a better life. We do not crow about how virtuous we are ... and this is the only kind of modesty that Jesus was interested in. He did exhort us not to look upon one another with lust, and equated that with adultery ... but if a man looks upon a woman with lust, is that her fault or his? Never make the mistake of thinking it is the former! A man should be able to control his impulses, and cannot hope to absolve himself by casting blame upon the object of his lust.”

He smiled. “A little under a week ago, Mary and I welcomed into our home the daughter of an old friend of ours. Her name is Emily and, let me tell you, she has been a delightful addition to our household. Over the past few days we have seen her break out of her Oakwood shell – many of you will have been to Oakwood and know how restrictive it is – and she has abandoned the modest, concealing clothing of her home town.”

Emily’s cheeks were burning. She had had no idea that Jacob would be talking about her in his sermon! She hoped that he would not say too much about her new wardrobe...

“I hope she will forgive me if I tell you that she has come to embrace some quite revealing outfits,” Jacob continued, much to Emily’s alarm. “But does this reflect poorly on her modesty? Indeed it does not! For modesty is not about what we wear; it is about who we are. Emily, for all her exposed skin, remains a sweet, polite, warm, generous, kind, and charming young woman ... and in fact ... yes ... I’d like to introduce you all to her right now. Emily, I apologise for blindsiding you with this, but would you mind stepping up to the front, please?”

Wondering what on Earth Jacob had in mind, Emily nervously shuffled past Paul and Mary, and walked up the aisle to the front of the church, until she was level with the pulpit, and between the choir and the congregation. She turned to face the half-filled rows of pews, smiling shyly at all the curious faces. She gave them a little wave, then looked up at Jacob.

“Thank you Emily,” said Jacob, smiling back at her. Then he addressed the rest of the congregation. “Observe her dress. Some might call it provocative. But to that I say no! Provocative is an accusation too often levelled at women’s clothing by those who would excuse reprehensible behaviour. Sexual harassment, inappropriate comments, unwanted touching, and so on. Let us instead put the blame where it belongs, and let us not become the arbiters, the judges, of women’s clothing choices.”

To her relief, Emily saw no judgment or hostility in the faces before her; merely nods of approval at Jacob’s words. This seemed like a message they had heard before, or at least been groomed to accept by similar messages in previous sermons. She spotted Brad and Linda in the fourth row; both of them gave her a warm smile.

“By a show of hands,” said Jacob, “who thinks that Emily’s dress is inappropriate for church?”

The congregants looked around at each other, and there were some quiet mutterings, but no hands were raised.

“I am glad to see that everyone is taking my words on board,” said Jacob. “Emily, I realise this is a big ask, but would you mind hiking up your dress a bit, to make it shorter?”

Emily gasped. “I’m sorry?” she said, looking up at Jacob with wide eyes. Perhaps she had misheard, or misunderstood.

“You don’t have to,” Jacob assured her. “I’d like to make a point about hemlines, with your help ... but if you’re not comfortable doing so, I’ll totally understand.”

Emily could scarcely believe what he was asking her to do. Of course she was not comfortable with the idea of hiking her dress up in front of the entire congregation of a church in which she barely knew anybody! Yet the part of her that wanted to refuse Jacob’s request was fighting a losing battle. Jacob was an authority figure, both here and in the house where she was living, and to refuse his request would be an act of open rebellion for which her upbringing had not prepared her. Shocked as she was by what he was asking her to do, obeying him was her instinctive, natural response.

But that was not her only motivator. The positive attention she had received over the last few days as a result of her short hemlines and revealing tops had been ... well ... fun! Embarrassing, too, yes ... but in hindsight, quite exciting. It made her feel like she was getting away with being naughty. Lifting up the hem of her dress in front of the whole congregation seemed very naughty indeed ... and yet she not only had Pastor Jacob’s permission ... he had actually asked her to do it! The blood roared in her ears as she reached down and grasped the hem of her dress.

Then she suddenly misgave. What did Mary think about this? Emily glanced over at the pastor’s wife, her expression anxious. Mary was looking at her husband with a mixture of uncertainty and disapproval, but when she glanced back at Emily, and their eyes met, she pursed her lips momentarily, then quietly nodded. Next to her, Paul was grinning like a maniac. Well of course HE would approve.

Emily took a deep breath, then she raised her hands up two or three inches. All eyes in the church, except for the rather frustrated choir members behind her, were glued to her thighs.

“Thank you Emily,” said Jacob. “Now you can all see Emily as Mary and I saw her last night when she had dinner at our house. Again, by a show of hands ... would a skirt or dress of this length be inappropriate for this house of worship? Be honest now: who among you thinks it would be?”

Again, nobody immediately raised a hand, but everyone looked at everyone else, and a few people – mostly the older men and women – looked a little torn. One woman seemed as if she was about to raise her hand, but, seeing that nobody else was doing so first, she thought better of it.

“All right then!” said Jacob, seeming satisfied. “And well you should not. Do the two inches of thigh that Emily just uncovered possess some property not shared by the two inches immediately below? Of course not. Emily, if you would be so kind, please could you lift your hem a little higher still.”

Emily, her eyes wide, looked again at Mary, who was now looking even more concerned. But after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, and Emily raised her hands higher still, as gasps and whispers susurrated among the sea of faces before her. Her breasts heaved in barely suppressed excitement.

“At this point, I’m sure,” Jacob went on calmly, “Emily’s panties are barely covered. Show of hands, again, please. Who thinks this would be an inappropriate length?”

About a third of the congregants now raised a hand. Emily looked around at them, her cheeks as red as a ripe tomato. Now, at last, she saw signs of disapproval, of discomfort, even of judgment. Her heart pounded, but she kept her hands in place, wishing she knew how she looked right now. Then she noticed Paul raising his phone to take a photo. Well at least she could ask him to show her afterwards. But how far was Jacob going to take this?

“Strange!” said Jacob grimly. “After all I’ve said so far, strange that the newly uncovered inches of leg, which likewise possess no special properties, should be regarded as indecent by some of you. Imagine, if you will, a street walker, who has sold her body night after night in the wretched alleys of this city’s East Side, coming into our church next Sunday – for sanctuary, perhaps, or to soothe her troubled soul, or to find what she is missing in her life. Perhaps she wishes to reacquaint herself with the dimly recalled church services of her childhood, or pray to God for guidance, or the forgiveness of her sins. Maybe God himself has brought her here, in order that she might hear our message. Are you going to turn her away because her skirt barely covers her underwear? Or will you welcome her with open arms?”

He surveyed the pews, nodding slowly. “I don’t believe I need a show of hands for that one. I know you all well enough to know that you would give that woman the warmest welcome she has ever received anywhere. I would expect nothing less. But I know what you’re thinking! ‘Well sure, Pastor Jacob, we would welcome her, but that doesn’t mean we consider her clothing appropriate for church!’ Am I right? Yes, I think so, for some of you at least. Well let me ask you this: if that woman became a regular worshipper here, and continued to wear the same clothing, would she outstay her welcome? Not as far as I am concerned ... and I hope that the same would apply to all of you.

“Emily, of course, is no street walker. But if she chose to wear a similarly revealing outfit ... what is that to any of you? Let us not police each other’s clothing. Judge not, lest ye be judged! It is not for you to decide what is appropriate. Let your opinions on clothing determine your own choices, not other people’s. And let not your assessment of a woman’s modesty be determined by her hemline! Modesty is about behaviour, not skirt length. Thank you Emily, for your assistance; you may return to your seat.”

Her cheeks still aflame, Emily dropped her dress, and hurried back to her pew to sit down next to Paul. “That was embarrassing!” she whispered.

“You were awesome!” Paul whispered back. Then, because Jacob had just announced the next hymn, he and Emily rose to their feet again.

After the hymn it was time for the intercessions, for which everyone knelt down on knitted kneelers. Emily’s, which she found tucked beneath the pew, bore a depiction of Jesus walking on the Sea of Galilee. She closed her eyes, and uttered the familiar response of “Lord, hear our prayer” after each of Jacob’s intercessory prayers. But during the third prayer, she stiffened suddenly as she felt a hand grasp her right buttock through her dress. She opened her eyes and turned to glare at Paul, but he had his eyes closed and his head bowed. She swatted his arm away, and glanced anxiously back over her shoulder, but saw only the tops of the bowed heads of the elderly couple in the row behind them. Nobody had witnessed Paul’s naughtiness, thank goodness.

But she had barely closed her eyes again when Paul’s hand returned, grasping and kneading her buttock. She shivered; the boy was incorrigible! But she was rather horny from showing off her legs to the congregation, and the buttock massage felt nice, and apparently nobody was watching ... so this time she let him continue, unchallenged. He slid his hand over to her left buttock, perhaps so that it would not feel left out, but after a short caress, he let go. Emily could not help feeling a little disappointed.

But then Paul’s hand returned, this time sliding up the back of her bare thigh. He had apparently wormed it underneath the hem of her dress, and up behind the veil of blue fabric. She gasped as he began massaging her right buttock again, this time through just her panties. Then, afraid the sound might have attracted attention, she looked backward again. Fortunately, the near-bald pate and purple-tinted perm remained unmoved.

For the remainder of the intercessions, Paul gave her bottom a very thorough massage, and although Emily kept thinking she ought to stop him, she never quite managed to bring herself to do so ... until the final prayer. Then, with a burst of boldness borne of her silent acquiescence and the rapidly diminishing time available, Paul slid his hand beneath her bottom, tucked it between her thighs, and pressed two fingers up against the softness of her pussy.

Emily promptly dug her elbow into Paul’s side, and with a barely audible grunt of pain, he withdrew his hand. The prayer ended, and they sat back up on the bench. Emily glared at Paul, but when he turned toward her, he merely gave her a sheepish grin.

After the service, Mary stuck around to chat with some of her friends, and naturally she had to introduce Emily to them, as they all gathered for coffee and cookies at the back of the church. “This is Randy Windruff,” she said as she directed Emily to yet another old man. “We’ve known Randy since we moved here from Oakwood. Randy, this is Emily, as if she needed an introduction after that sermon!”

“Nice to meet you Emily,” said Randy, smiling at her. “Yes, that was quite a sermon! Most ... unexpected.”

Mary chuckled ruefully. “Well I kinda wish Jacob had chosen another method of making his point,” she said. “Poor Emily – I do hope you weren’t traumatised by what Jacob asked you to do!”

Emily shook her head. “It was a bit embarrassing,” she admitted, “but I was happy to be able to help him with his sermon. I just wish he’d warned me beforehand!”

“Yes, quite!” agreed Mary. “I think though that it was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“I did get that impression,” said Randy, nodding. “But you did very well, Emily. With your help I think Jacob made his point very effectively. Will we be seeing any more of you in future...?” Then, suddenly realising how that sounded, he hastily corrected himself: “I mean, are you staying in the city for a while?”

“I think so,” said Emily. “My fiancé really likes it in the city – he always wanted to get out of Oakwood and pursue his dreams in the big wide world...”

“Speaking of whom,” said Mary, “weren’t you expecting him to come to church this morning...?”

“Yes!” said Emily, suddenly remembering her phone. “Let’s see if he texted me back...” She pulled her phone out or her bag, and switched it on. “Oh, he did! ‘Hi Baby, so sorry, not going to make it to church. Went to the gym with Clive and lost track of the time. But I have the perfect way to make it up to you.’” She pursed her lips as she put her phone back in her bag. “Well at least it’s nothing serious...”

“Is he coming for lunch, at least?” Mary asked.

“Do you still want him to?” asked Emily. “After he blew off church?”

“Of course, Honey,” said Mary, patting her arm. “He’s still your fiancé, and I don’t mind cutting him a little slack.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him.” Emily pulled her phone back out, and typed, ‘Will you be coming to lunch, at least?’

He replied, ‘Of course!’

Emily sighed. “Yes, he’s coming to lunch.”

“Good!” said Mary. “Jacob can have a little talk with him about the importance of regular weekly worship.” She winked at Emily, who grinned and nodded.

“Well I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him,” said Randy, “but I’m sure glad to have met you, Emily.”

“I’m glad to have met you too!” said Emily.

After introducing Emily to some more of her friends, Mary announced that she needed to get back home to prepare lunch. Emily and Paul accompanied her out of the church, and returned to her car.

Back at the house, Emily helped Mary with the lunch, and was setting the table in the dining room when Nathan arrived. He walked in with a cheerful grin. “Hi Baby!” he said, spreading his arms for a hug. “Miss me?”

“Yes,” she admitted, letting him take her in his arms. “Although I’m kind of upset with you for skipping church. I had to sit next to Paul, and he got kind of handsy during the intercessions!”

Nathan raised his eyebrows, then he chuckled. “Well the intercessions can be a bit dull,” he remarked. “Can’t really blame him for finding ways to alleviate the boredom. And with a beautiful woman kneeling next to him...”

“Ugh!” She pushed herself away from him. “You’re hopeless! Aren’t you even a little mad at him?”

He looked crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Babe,” he said. “You know I like it when he ... does that stuff. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”

She shrugged. “Forget it,” she said. “But you missed something else you might have enjoyed. Jacob called me up in front of the whole congregation, during his sermon, and had me lift up my dress until it was only barely covering my panties.”

“Whoa!” exclaimed Nathan. “Why??”

“He was making a point about modesty, and not judging women for the skimpiness of their clothing,” said Emily.

“Cool!” said Nathan. “Doesn’t seem like a very Robertine message, though.”

“Yeah, Jacob’s view of Robertism is a bit more progressive than we’re used to,” said Emily. “But he makes a lot of sense, and I like his philosophy.”

“Well, good!” said Nathan. Then he grimaced, and said, “I’m really sorry I missed church, Emily. I promise I’ll be there next week.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “I appreciate it.”

“However,” Nathan continued, his grin returning, “I’ve planned something for today that will hopefully make up for me missing church this morning.”

“What’s that?” Emily asked curiously. She had been wondering about this ever since his text.

“Couples massage!” said Nathan excitedly. “I booked us in for three o’clock. You said you really liked your last massage there, so I thought it would be a fun thing to do together!”

“Oh!” said Emily, a little taken aback. Some colour came to her cheeks. “Do you ... do you know who we’re getting?”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t remember the names,” he said. “Couple of women, I think. Oh ... pretty sure one of them’s called Helen.”

“Oh, okay,” said Emily, trying to hide her disappointment. “Well, thank you! This is a nice surprise.”

“You’re welcome,” said Nathan. “Anyway, I’d better go and apologise to Jacob for missing his service.” He started to walk out of the room.

“Wait ... Nathan,” said Emily. She had been feeling guilty about how much Paul had been doing with her – and particularly about letting him rub mud into her pussy through her panties. She was feeling the need to confess.

“Yes?” said Nathan, turning back towards her.

Emily hesitated. Then she said, “I ... um ... fell in a puddle this morning.”

Nathan raised an eyebrow, and chuckled. “I hope you didn’t hurt yourself?”

“Oh no,” said Emily. “But ... as I was sitting there in the muddy water, Paul convinced me that it would be a good idea for him to take a sexy photo of me, and send it to you. So ... I let him.”

“Oh!” said Nathan. “Cool! So ... can I see it...?”

“Paul hasn’t sent it to me yet,” said Emily. “I’ll remind him as soon as I get a chance.”

“Okay,” said Nathan, and he left the room.

Once Emily had finished laying the table, she went into the kitchen, where Nathan and Mary were chatting amiably together. “The table’s ready,” she said.

“Good!” said Mary. “Would you mind going upstairs and letting Paul and Jacob know that lunch will be ready in five minutes?”

“Of course,” said Emily.

“And while you’re up there,” Nathan interjected, “maybe you could remind Paul about that ... thing...”

Mary turned and raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing.

“Sure,” said Emily, her cheeks reddening. She walked out of the room, and headed up they stairs. As she reached the top, she encountered Jacob, who was just emerging from the master bedroom. “Hi Jacob!” she said. “Lunch in five minutes.”

“Oh good, thank you,” said Jacob. He began to descend the stairs as Emily knocked on Paul’s door.

“Come in!”

Emily entered to find Paul playing on his phone. “Hi Paul,” she said, a little uncomfortably. She had not been alone with him since church, and was still a little annoyed with him. “You were very naughty in church...”

Paul grinned. “You liked it though, didn’t you? Come on, admit you like being a little naughty, on some level. Be honest.”

Emily had been brought up always to be honest. “There might be some truth to that,” she conceded. “But we were in church! That wasn’t the time or place for such naughtiness.”

“Would now be a better time?” asked Paul mischievously.

Emily rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Not really!” she said. “Lunch will be ready in five minutes.”

“So we’ve got five minutes,” said Paul. “Lots of things we can do in five minutes. Can we have a kiss?”

“Paul, my fiancé’s downstairs!” Emily exclaimed.

Paul stood up and approached her. He reached out, put his hands on her hips, and gently pulled her against him. “You know he likes it when you kiss me,” he said. “You know he likes me doing naughty things with you. And I think you like it too.”

“I...” began Emily, but she had no response to this that would discourage him. Not an honest one, at least. “Nathan wants to see a photo from our walk this morning. Of me sitting in the puddle. Can you send one to me?”

“Oh, sure,” said Paul. “In a couple of minutes. Let’s kiss first.”

“Photo first, please, or no kiss,” said Emily firmly. “I want to make sure I have it before we go back downstairs.”

Paul reluctantly let go of her. “Okay,” he said. “Where’s your phone?”

“In my room,” she replied.

Paul sighed, and grabbed his phone. “Let’s go to your room then,” he said, pulling up his photos. He hurried quickly out of his room, and across the landing to Emily’s. Emily followed, not at all in a hurry, but willing to follow through on the kiss once she had the photo on her phone.

“It’s sent,” said Paul, stopping by her bed and turning to face her.

Emily picked up her phone from where it lay on her dresser. As she switched it on, she saw Paul’s text arrive, and she opened it up. Then she gasped as she saw her wide-spread legs and mud-plastered panties. “Not that one, Paul! Too extreme!”

“I think it’s a great photo!” Paul argued. “It’s ultra-sexy. Nathan will love it!”

“Please, Paul!” said Emily desperately. “Send me one of the more modest ones.”

“Fine,” said Paul reluctantly. “But only if you lie down for our kiss.”

Apparently he wanted to dry-hump her again. “Okay, but only if you keep your pants on!” she said firmly. “And you send the photo first!”

“Deal,” said Paul, and he quickly sent a second photo.

It arrived in seconds, and Emily checked it out. This one was taken from further back, her legs were not as wide-spread, and her panties were merely wet rather than muddy. “Better,” she conceded, privately thinking that it was actually quite a good photo, and that Nathan would indeed love it. She particularly liked the shocked expression she was wearing; she had done a good job of acting.

“Okay!” said Paul. “Lie down please...?”

“Only for two minutes!” she warned him, as she sat down on the edge of her bed, put her phone on her bedside table, and then lay down on her back.

Paul knelt down beside the bed, reached over to grasp the hem of her dress, and pulled it all the way up to her waist, exposing her panties. “Hey!” she objected.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I’ve seen your panties plenty often by now.” And without awaiting her response, he bent down and kissed her lips. At first she responded readily, opening her mouth and twirling her tongue around his, but then she squealed as she felt his hand cupping her pussy through her panties. “Paul!” she gasped.

“Don’t you like this?” he asked softly, as he gently caressed her pussy through the thin material. “It seemed like you were enjoying it earlier, when I was rubbing mud in... Doesn’t this feel nice? I’m trying to make you feel good...”

Emily’s cheeks were becoming flushed. She could not deny that it felt very nice indeed. “But Paul ... not even Nathan’s done this to me...” Two other men had, though, and she had enjoyed it then, too.

“That’s not my fault,” said Paul, continuing to sensuously knead her labia through her panties. “Maybe the two of you should get more adventurous.” Then he kissed her again, and she responded, and he began massaging her pussy more firmly, as her knees drifted apart. A muffled moan escaped her lips.

Then, fearing the five minutes were already up, she pushed against his shoulders. “We should get downstairs!” she said.

Paul reluctantly nodded, and he got to his feet. Emily pulled her dress back down, then she swung her legs over the edge of her bed, and stood up. “You’re looking very flushed,” Paul remarked.

“Oh gosh,” said Emily, checking out her face in the mirror. “I’d better splash some water on my face before I go down. Ugh – you’re so naughty, Paul...”

Paul grinned. “See you downstairs.”

He left the room and trotted downstairs, while Emily went to the bathroom to wash her face. Within a few seconds, cold water had taken most of the redness out of her cheeks. She dried her face, then headed downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, she found Mary taking a roast chicken out of the oven. “Goodness!” she said. “Very warm in here!”

“I know it’s a hot day for a roast lunch,” Mary apologised, “but it seemed like a special occasion, this being your first Sunday with us.”

“If you’re too hot,” said Paul impishly, “you could always change into your nightie.”

Nathan’s eyes widened, and he looked at Emily hopefully.

Emily blushed. “It’s a little early for that!”

Mary smiled. “You don’t need to worry about time of day, dear,” she said. “We’ve gotten quite used to seeing you in just a top and panties, and you did look so lovely last night in that nightie. And I’m sure Nathan would love to see you in it.”

“I would!” said Nathan eagerly.

Emily shivered. Sunday lunch with Jacob and Mary, and Paul, and Nathan ... in just her negligée and panties? What a crazy idea! “I ... I don’t know,” she said, feeling a little flustered. “I doubt Jacob would want me dressed like that for Sunday lunch!”

Mary shook her head. “Jacob and I both think it’s fine for you to wear your nightie any time of day around the house,” she said.

“Go on, Babe,” Nathan urged her. “Please?”

“Um ... okay,” said Emily, her heart pounding, “I guess if you really want me to, and everyone’s okay with it...”

“We are!” Paul confirmed excitedly.

Emily left the room and went upstairs to her bedroom, then, feeling rather light-headed, she took off her dress and shoes, and put on her negligée. Tying up the strings at the front, she went back downstairs, where she met Paul carrying the roast into the dining room. He grinned at her panties, and then at her breasts. “Awesome!” he said.

Emily bit her lip as she entered the dining room, where Jacob and Nathan were already sitting at the table. “Wow!” Nathan exclaimed. “You look amazing, Baby! Super sexy!”

“Thanks,” said Emily shyly, clasping her hands in front of her panties. Her fiancé’s reaction was gratifying, at least, but it would have been more appropriate in a private setting. She quietly sat down next to him. Paul was on the opposite side of the table; he seemed quite happy with the view he was getting.

“Don’t leer, Paul,” Jacob chided his son. Then, as Mary came in and sat down, he said, “Shall we say grace?”

Throughout lunch, Paul kept stealing glances at Emily’s chest, but aside from this, nobody did anything to make her feel uncomfortable about what she was wearing, so that by the time they all got up to clear the plates away, she was feeling fairly at ease with what she was wearing. At ease ... and even a little aroused. The fact that she was so skimpily dressed, while everyone else around her was fully clothed, was actually quite exciting.

After they had cleared the table, Paul washed the dishes, and Mary dried them, while Jacob chatted with Nathan and Emily in the living room. At length they were joined by Mary and Paul, and they talked (mainly about church) until Nathan noticed the time.

“You’d better go and change,” he said, “or we’ll miss our bus to the spa.”

“Oh, you don’t need to take a bus, surely?” said Mary. “I’d be happy to drive you. And pick you up afterwards, of course.”

“Thank you!” said Nathan. “That would be awesome.”

“I haven’t heard of a ‘couple massage’ before,” Jacob remarked. “Maybe it’s something you and I should try, huh Mary?”

“Maybe you should!” agreed Nathan, laughing. “We’ll let you know how ours goes.”

“I’ll just go change then,” said Emily, getting up.

“Okay, see you soon!” said Nathan. Then he, along with Paul and his parents, watched Emily’s panty-clad bottom departing from the room.

After Emily was safely out of earshot, Mary sighed. “That girl really does have a lovely figure,” she said.

“She does indeed!” said Jacob. “You’re a lucky young man, Nathan.”

“I know I am,” said Nathan sincerely.

Paul merely smirked.

Upstairs, Emily took off her negligée, and was about to put on her blue dress again, when it occurred to her that she and Nathan had a band meeting this afternoon. Their new manager, Brian, had seen them perform on Friday evening, and perhaps might be expecting to see her in a miniskirt. True time last week she would have considered her blue dress exceptionally sexy, but in the light of some of her other outfits of the past few days, it now seemed a little tame. After all, she had just worn it to church ... and did she really want to meet the manager of a rock band in a church dress...?

Then again, there was no need to dress as she would for a concert; it was only a meeting, after all. Something casual, then – and sexy, but not too sexy. What would fit that description...?

Her denim skirt would have been perfect ... at its original length. But as much of her as Jacob and Mary had seen already, she still could not bring herself to show them how much leg she had been displaying during Friday’s gig. Then again ... would they really mind? They did not seem particularly bothered by super-short hemlines. And yet, she had not tested them with a skirt as short as the denim one. She sighed.

Then her eyes lit upon her stretchy black skirt. It was longer than her denim skirt (though not by a whole lot), and Mary at least had seen her in a skirt of somewhat similar length at the coffee shop. Picking it up and opening it out, she stepped into it, then tugged it up around her hips. Looking at herself in the mirror, she bit her lip; it seemed extremely short and sexy – would Jacob and Mary really be okay with it?

After a few moments’ thought, she managed to convince herself that they would. After all, Jacob had asked her to pull up her blue dress until her thighs were even more exposed than this. It would be fine, she told herself.

But now she needed a top. What would go with a skirt like this...? She surveyed her options, and quickly discounted most of her newest batch of tops as being too revealing. But when she came to the pastel blue tank top with the spaghetti straps, she hesitated. This was her favourite, and although it was very low-cut, she suspected that nobody downstairs would have a problem with it. She put it on, and shivered. It, too, was a sexy garment, and as she shivered, her breasts wobbled visibly beneath the thin fabric.

She looked herself up and down, and suddenly imagined herself back in Oakwood, in her oak-panelled living room at home, surrounded by her parents and her three brothers. Panic welled up inside her. ‘What am I doing?’ she gasped. ‘I’m dressed like a wanton woman!’ And for a moment she wanted to put on one of her old dresses and button herself up to the neck. But her next thought was, ‘I must be crazy to dress like this; it’s so naughty!’ And that thought made her suck on her lower lip, and she continued, ‘So naughty, and shameful, to be so exposed...’

Without giving herself another moment to change her mind, she put on her high-heeled shoes, and hurried down the stairs. This was almost disastrous, as she turned her foot over halfway down and only just managed to stop herself from falling the rest of the way head over heels, by catching hold of the bannister and clinging desperately to it as she regained her footing.

A little shaken, she reached the door of the stairs, and peeked around the edge of the doorframe. “Um, Mary?” she said. “Could I have a quick word with you please?”

“Of course!” said Mary, getting to her feet. “Are you all right? That was quite a thump!”

“Yes, I’m fine,” said Emily, stepping back into the hallway. “I almost fell down the stairs, but I’m okay.”

“Good heavens!” Mary exclaimed, staring at Emily’s outfit.

“Is it too much?” Emily asked anxiously. Then she looked down, and realised to her horror that her skirt was rucked up around her hips. Several vertical inches of her panties were showing. “Oh no!” She hastily tugged her skirt back down into place. “That must have happened when I almost fell. I’m so sorry!”

“No need to be sorry, dear, I’m quite used to seeing your panties!” said Mary soothingly. “But for a moment I thought you meant to go out like that!”

“Gosh no!” said Emily with a shudder. “But even like this, I know it’s very revealing. Is it ... too much?”

“For a massage?” said Mary, raising an eyebrow. “Well I’m not sure it matters very much...”

“No, not for the massage,” said Emily, her cheeks turning pink as she thought about what she would be wearing for the massage. “This is for our band meeting afterwards. We’re meeting with the band’s new manager; I thought I should look the part of the ‘rock chick’. It’s not really my kind of music, but it seems to be Nathan’s dream, so I’m trying to put my best face on it, for his sake.”

“How wonderful of you!” said Mary, smiling warmly. “What a sweet and supportive fiancée you are! Well I think you certainly nailed the ‘rock chick’ look, and while it’s not my kind of music either, it makes me happy, and very proud of you, to see such commitment and dedication. And my goodness, Emily, you certainly have the body to pull off an outfit like this! You look fantastic.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, blushing. “It means so much to me to hear that, and to have your support. If you’d expressed even the slightest disapproval, I’d have been upstairs in a flash to change into something more modest.”

“No need for that, Emily,” Mary assured her. “Now, are you ready to go?”

“I’ve just got to run back upstairs to grab my bag and my phone,” said Emily.

“Okay, you do that,” said Mary. “Although, perhaps you’d better not run, in those heels...?”

“Good point!” said Emily fervently. “Have to remember to walk slowly in these horrendous things!”

“Well I don’t know about ‘horrendous’,” said Mary, chuckling. “I think they’re very elegant. But I’m sure they’re tricky to walk in.”

Emily nodded, then she carefully went upstairs while Mary returned to the living room to fetch Nathan. A minute or so later, they were all on their way out of the house, heading for Mary’s car.

On the way to the sports centre, Mary engaged Nathan in conversation, and Nathan did his best to be polite and charming. In fact, he did a reasonable job of this; enough to cause Mary to begin to second-guess her desire to encourage what she had been hoping was a burgeoning relationship between Emily and Paul.

Emily, meanwhile, was thinking rather glumly about the prospect of being massaged by a woman. Of course, there was no question of her taking her panties off this time. For one thing, she had no desire to let a woman massage her pussy, and for another, Nathan would be there right beside her. She would have to wait until Thursday for the real fireworks. Thursday! It seemed so far away now, for some reason.

“Have fun!” said Mary, as they climbed out of her car. “Good luck with your band meeting!”

“Thanks!” said Emily, hastily tugging her skirt down; it seemed that getting into and out of the car had made it climb up her hips again. This skirt was apparently going to be problematic.

They entered the building and reported to the front desk. It was not Kendall this time, but a different young woman, who directed both of them to swipe their cards, and then took payment from Nathan. “Through that door,” she said, “go all the way to the end, then go right, and find Room 2. Helen and Alex will be there shortly.”

Alex! Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She had been preparing herself for a disappointing massage, thanks to Nathan’s impression that they would both be massaged by women. Thank goodness he had been wrong about that! But who would be massaging whom...?

They soon found Room 2, which, as expected, had two massage tables, side by side. “Do we put these on...?” Nathan inquired, gesturing to the robes hanging on the wall.

“Yes,” Emily confirmed. “We get undressed first, of course. It’s up to you if you want to keep your underwear on. Some people,” she added casually, “get completely naked, so that they can have the full-body treatment. Last time Alex suggested I do that ... but I was just too shy.”

“Oh, Alex was your masseuse?” asked Nathan in surprise.

“Masseur,” Emily corrected him. “He’s a man.”

“Oh!” said Nathan. “I thought the name Alex ... never mind. I ... I think I’ll keep my underwear on. You don’t have to, though.” He grinned hopefully.

Emily shivered. “I think I will, nevertheless,” she said. She was not yet ready for Nathan to see her completely naked. And she was certainly not ready for some strange woman – this ‘Helen’ – to see her naked, either. As Nathan stripped down to his boxer shorts, she took off her shoes, then her skirt, then her top.

Nathan looked over and grinned happily. “That’s my girl,” he said, approaching her with his eyes fixed on her breasts.

“Not now, Nathan,” said Emily nervously. “They could come in at any moment!” She reached for a robe, and put it on.

Nathan sighed. “I guess so.” He donned a robe of his own. Then he gasped. “Oh! You were going to send me a photo...”

“Oh!” said Emily. “I’d totally forgotten about that. Yes.” She pulled her phone out of her bag, found the second puddle photo that Paul had sent her, and texted it to Nathan.

His eyes widened as the photo appeared on his phone. “Oh, fantastic!” he said enthusiastically. “Super sexy!”

“You’re welcome,” said Emily with a chuckle.

Two minutes later the door opened, and a woman in her late thirties entered. She smiled. “Hi guys!” she said brightly. “I’m Helen. Alex will be in in a minute. You must be Nathan and Emily. How are you both?”

“Good thanks,” said Nathan.

“Fine thank you,” said Emily.

“Great, well let’s just have you slip out of that robe, Nathan,” said Helen, “and lie down on your front.” She set down a thermos she had been carrying; Emily immediately and correctly surmised that it contained warm massage oil. Then Helen fetched a towel from a drawer in one of the massage tables, and as Nathan lay down in just his boxer shorts, she laid the towel on top of him. “You’re welcome to keep your underwear on if you like,” she said, “but we generally recommend you take them off. For one thing, you’ll get a more comprehensive massage that way, and for another, you’ll avoid getting oil on them.”

Nathan’s cheeks reddened a little. “Uh ... I’d rather keep them on, please.”

“Not a problem!” said Helen. “I’ll just work around them, and try to keep the oil off them as best I can. Emily, your turn now.” She came over to Emily’s table, and pulled out another towel.

Feeling quite self-conscious, Emily took off her robe, and quickly lay down on her table. As Helen laid a towel on top of her, she looked over at Nathan, to her left. He grinned back at her.

Helen now moved over to stand next to Nathan’s table. Pulling back the towel to expose his back, she poured some oil on to his skin, and commenced massaging him.

Before Emily had a chance to feel left out, the door opened, and in walked Alex. “Hello again Emily!” he said, smiling down at her.

“Hi Alex!” she said, her eyes widening a little. “Um, this is my fiancé, Nathan...”

“Pleased to meet you, Nathan,” said Alex.

“Hi,” said Nathan, regarding him warily. He looked over at Emily, his face a little troubled. He raised an eyebrow, and Emily gave him a sheepish smile.

Folding her towel down a bit, Alex began massaging her shoulders. Following the same routine as on Thursday, he proceeded down her back, folding the towel more and more, until he had exposed the waistband of her panties and was working on the small of her back. She was practically purring with pleasure by this point.

Nathan, it seemed, was thoroughly enjoying his own massage. “Oh, that feels great!” he gasped, for probably the third time. “You’re really good at this, Helen!”

Helen chuckled. “Thank you, I should hope so; I’ve been doing it for ten years.”

“This was a good idea, Nathan,” said Emily. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” said Nathan happily. His eyes were closed; he was clearly savouring every second of the experience. By now, Helen was working on his feet, while Alex was still massaging Emily’s right arm.

Over the next few minutes, as Helen kneaded her way up Nathan’s legs, his dreamy smile slowly faded. This was not because he was no longer enjoying the massage, however. Emily stared at him for a while, then she said, “Um, Nathan?”

“Mmmhmm?” he murmured.

“Just checking if you were awake!” said Emily. “Maybe you shouldn’t have had that third glass of wine at lunchtime...”

“Mmmhmm,” Nathan replied.

Now Alex was sliding his slippery hand up the inside of Emily’s equally slippery right thigh, and she shivered as his fingers brushed against her panties. He had positioned himself between Emily and Helen, so that Helen could not see exactly where his hands were; Emily wondered if this was deliberate. She was not about to object, though; she had been looking forward to this ever since Thursday.

“How does that feel?” Alex asked her, a minute later, as he gently rubbed her pussy with two fingers through her slightly damp and oily panties.

Emily sighed contentedly. “Very nice...”

Nathan began to snore quietly, and Helen, having finished massaging his legs, stopped and looked over at Alex. “He’s asleep!” she said, nonplussed. “I’m done with this side of him; do I wake him up and ask him to turn over? Or leave him be?”

“Just leave him be,” said Alex. “I don’t think there’s any need for you to stick around; he’s likely to nap throughout the rest of the session. But if he wakes up before the end, I’ll send you a text.”

Helen nodded. “Okay then!” She covered Nathan back up with the towel, picked up her thermos, and left the room.

Alex, having finished massaging both of Emily’s legs, was now massaging her buttocks through her panties. “Shall we take these off now, do you think?” he asked. Then he grasped the sides of her panties, and began to pull them down.

“Oh!” Emily gasped, but she found it difficult, somehow, to move her hands in order to stop him. “I don’t know...”

“Might as well prevent them from getting any more oily,” said Alex, tugging her panties down her thighs.

Emily’s heart was pounding. Alex was stripping her naked! No man had ever done that before. And he had not even waited for her permission!

He pulled the damp white garment off her feet, and placed it on the chair where she had left the rest of her clothes. “Now...” he said, pouring some more oil over her bottom. He set his thermos down, then began kneading her buttocks with both hands, gradually working his fingers further and further in between. Before Emily could properly process all of the exciting sensations coming from her bottom, his fingertips were brushing against her anus, lightly at first, and then more firmly. Then he slid one finger down ... and withdrew. “Okay,” he said. “Time to turn over.”

Emily gulped. If she turned over, he would see her pussy ... and not even Nathan had seen that. But if she did not, then this whole exciting, exhilarating experience would come to an abrupt end ... and she could not bear for that to happen. With an anxious glance over at Nathan, who still seemed to be fast asleep, she propped herself up on one elbow, and rolled over on to her back. Looking up at Alex apprehensively, she started to cover her pussy with her hands, but then changed her mind and bravely set them down by her sides.

“Wow!” he said, staring down at her pussy. “That’s ... never mind.”

This was not at all the reaction Emily had been hoping for, and she almost died of embarrassment. “What?” she gasped, hastily covering herself up. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no!” he assured her. “Not at all. It’s just ... well, it’s lovely ... but it’s just ... a little ... old-fashioned. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!”

“What do you mean, old-fashioned?” asked Emily, dismayed. She had had no idea that her pubic hair would be a matter for criticism.

“It’s really not important,” he told her soothingly. “What you do with your ... hair ... is totally your choice. But these days, if you glance around any shared women’s locker room ... you’ll find that most women trim it back a bit, you know? Shave it into a tidy triangle, or a heart, or a little landing strip ... or even shave it off entirely.”

“Oh!” said Emily, feeling mortified. “I ... I didn’t know.”

“It’s no big deal,” he said firmly. “And I’m sorry for reacting like that. It’s just that I see a lot of them, in this line of work, and it was just ... well, I guess it’s probably standard for ... Oakwood, was it?”

Emily nodded.

“Well look,” said Alex. “What you do with your pubic hair is none of my business. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“But now I feel ashamed!” said Emily plaintively. “I don’t want to seem all ... rural and unsophisticated!”

Alex smiled sympathetically at her. “It’s an easy thing to fix,” he said, “if that’s what you want to do. Heck, I could help you do it right now if you want. I could fix you right up in a couple of minutes.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “How?” she asked, in a voice barely above a whisper. “You mean ... by ... shaving me?”

“Well you could do it yourself,” said Alex, “but since it’s not something you’ve ever done before, it might take some practice. Obviously you shave your legs, so you’re familiar with using a razor, but your intimate areas can be a little more ... delicate. I can do it for you, very quickly ... if you trust me enough to let me do that.”

The idea of letting Alex shave her was at once terrifying and exciting and embarrassing. Just the view she would be presenting him with ... it would be unbelievably explicit. And Nathan was right there, just a few feet away...

“Do you have, um, the necessary ... equipment?” she asked hesitantly.

Alex nodded. “Not in here, but I can fetch what I need in no time at all.”

Emily gulped. Was she really considering this? It was such a crazy idea! “What about ... my massage...?” she asked timidly.

Alex smiled, and said, “Emily, once I’ve taken care of your pussy hair, I’m going to give you a massage that will make the one I gave you on Thursday seem like a mediocre back rub. Trust me: you’ll leave here walking on clouds.”

Emily shivered. “That sounds nice,” she said.

Alex held up a finger. “Just give me one minute,” he said. Then he hurried to the door, and left the room.

Emily lay still, almost trembling with anticipation. She glanced over at Nathan; he was snoring softly, still fast asleep. She desperately hoped he would not wake up. She would tell him about this massage later – every detail – and hopefully, in retrospect, he would be okay with it. But she did not want to give him a chance to object before it was done.

The door opened again, and Alex re-entered with a can of shaving gel and a large plastic bowl, which he was carrying carefully. A washcloth was slung over his left shoulder. He walked to the end of Emily’s table, and smiled at her. “You’ll like this part,” he said, setting the bowl down. He took the washcloth, and dropped it into the bowl, which appeared to be full of water. After soaking it for a moment, he pulled it out, wrung it gently, and then laid it over Emily’s pussy. It felt very warm; hot, even. But it did feel nice.

“Lift your knees, please,” said Alex. Emily did so, and then gasped as he pulled her knees apart. “Got to make sure the cloth is contacting all the relevant areas,” he apologised, as he pressed the washcloth between her legs. “If we want to avoid a rash – which obviously we do – your skin needs to be warm and wet. Your hair seems to be quite fine, fortunately, so I think we can get away without trimming it first.”

“Uh ... okay,” said Emily, anxious about the position she was in but glad of the cloth covering her.

“I’ll just leave that there for a couple minutes,” said Alex, “while I massage your upper body.”

Emily shivered in anticipation. “Okay.”

Alex poured some oil on to her upper chest, and resumed his massage. Soon he was kneading her breasts, both together, which made Emily blush deeply, but also smile. He did this so well; it felt lovely. And naughty. Then, after what seemed like an unnecessarily long time, he moved down to her belly.

When he finally reached the washcloth, he pulled it off with a suddenness that startled her. “Oh!” she gasped, mortified that he was now looking at her most intimate parts.

“Let’s begin, shall we?” he said with a smile, as he picked up the can of shaving gel. Then he turned the can upside down, and squirted a large mound of gel on to her pussy. She gasped – it was a little cold – but then she bit her lip as he began to rub the gel into her hair.

The next couple of minutes went by in a haze; she stared at the ceiling, blood roaring in her ears, trying not to imagine what he was doing. She was firmly aware of the scrape, scrape of the razor across various parts of her intimate flesh, but she forced herself to ignore and endure it, even when he pushed her knees further apart and plied his razor further back, around her anus.

“All done!” he said at last, rinsing off the razor in the bowl of water.

Emily came to her senses with a start. How long had it been? She raised her head, glanced down at her pussy, and saw only smooth skin. “You shaved it all off?” she gasped.

“It’ll grow back if you let it,” he said cheerfully. “And you can style it however you want. I figured I’d start you out with a blank slate.”

She felt a little violated, but she supposed she ought to be grateful. “Thank you,” she said, a little dolefully.

“Now, legs down,” he said, “and we’ll get on with the massage.”

Relieved, she laid her legs back down, and then she closed her eyes as Alex began working on her shins. This was all rather surreal; she could hardly believe she was lying here completely naked, and that Alex had just shaved off all of her pussy hair. Did other women really do that? Perhaps she could ask Sasha.

As Alex massaged his way up her left thigh, she began to breathe heavily in anticipation. He had promised her she would walk out or here on clouds, and she was keen to find out what that meant. As he reached her pussy, she clenched her fists by her sides ... and then she sighed as he poured oil directly on to her labia, and began sensuously rubbing them with his slippery fingers.

“Ohhh...”

“Better without panties, isn’t it?” Alex murmured, grinning.

“Much...” she conceded, savouring the sensations of Alex’s fingers sliding between her labia, lightly caressing her clitoris, stroking, kneading, probing ... and then stopping.

“Other leg now,” he said.

Emily patiently waited while he worked on her right leg. This was nice, of course, and she was glad he was being thorough, but she was really looking forward to him getting back to her pussy...

Soon enough, he did, and she moaned softly as he resumed his erotic massage of her vulva. This time he was a little firmer with her clitoris, and her breaths became gasps. When he eased her thighs apart, one at a time, she made no objection ... but when he suddenly slid a finger into her vagina, she almost had a panic attack. “Alex!” she whispered frantically.

“Your clitoris isn’t the only pleasure centre you have done here,” he said softly. “Did you know that? You have another one, just inside. It’s called the g-spot, and it’s something of a mystery, even to experts in the fields of reproductive and sexual health. Can you feel that?”

“Uhhh ... ohhhh!” Emily gasped. “Yes I can feel it ... but Alex! Nobody’s ever put a finger in ... there ... before...”

“Nobody’s ever shaved you before either,” said Alex with a shrug. “But don’t worry – there are still plenty of firsts for you to save for your fiancé. And when you and he start having sex, wouldn’t it be nice if you had a good understanding of your body, what feels good to you, what he needs to do to recreate these feelings for you?”

He was now gently stroking inside her, and it felt ... magical. “Yes,” she admitted, in a breathy whisper. “It would...” Then she gasped as he inserted a second finger.

“Your first time will likely be a little painful,” Alex continued, “but it needn’t be, if you prepare yourself. Fingers are good, because you can start with one, and progress to two, then three, before trying it with a penis.”

“I’m not ready for that, though!” Emily gasped, her eyes wide as Alex gently, rhythmically slid his index and middle fingers in and out of her, stroking her g-spot. “We’re waiting until we get married.”

“That’s very commendable,” said Alex, beginning to thrust his fingers a little more firmly. “I admire your patience, and your commitment to your faith.”

“Thank you!” Emily whispered, parting her thighs a little more and clenching her buttocks, pressing her pelvis up against Alex’s hand.

He was now rubbing her clitoris, too, with the fingers of his other hand. The combination of internal and external stimulation was incredibly intense, and Emily felt her orgasm approaching. With her moans escalating in volume, she clamped a hand over her mouth and looked anxiously over at Nathan. He was still, thank goodness, fast asleep.

Alex slowed the pace of his thrusting fingers, and Emily’s orgasm remained just out of reach. With frustrating expertise, he somehow managed to keep her on the brink for another two minutes, while plunging his fingers deep inside her, over and over again, with strong but slow strokes. Eventually, as she inched towards the finish line, he suddenly went all out, frantically rubbing both her clit and her g-spot at once, so that she practically screamed into her hand, her whole body arching upwards as she dug her heels into the pad and hoisted her bottom high into the air. But even then he did not stop, maintaining the furious intensity of his dual stimulation while her body twisted and then collapsed back on to the pad. Her face was red, a glow had spread all the way down her torso, her breasts were heaving as she hyperventilated, and she had to keep both hands pressed together over her mouth in order to keep her screams as muffled as possible.

After what seemed like an eternity of unprecedented, excruciating pleasure, Alex suddenly let up. He left his fingers buried inside her, but now they were just gently sliding in and out, slowly and smoothly. He stopped rubbing her clitoris.

Emily’s whole body was shaking, but she was finally able to relax. Entirely limp, she lay panting and gasping with her legs spread wide and her vagina still occupied. “Th...thank you...” she eventually managed to whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Right now, I confess, I’m fingering you purely for my own pleasure. Do you mind...?”

Emily did not care; it felt wonderful, even after her orgasm. “I don’t mind...” she murmured. “I guess you’ve earned it...”

“Thank you,” said Alex, and he continued to thoroughly explore her vagina with his fingers. “Your pussy looks absolutely beautiful, by the way. Your body is now sheer perfection. I feel very honoured to have been able to massage you today. How do you feel?”

“On clouds!” Emily said, with a weak laugh. “You’re the best masseur I could imagine, Alex. Thank you so much for this experience. I just wish I didn’t have to wait until Thursday for the next one!”

“It’s my pleasure,” said Alex firmly. “In fact I’ve enjoyed massaging you so much that I’d be happy to give you freebies in between our weekly sessions. But the centre has rules, you know...”

Emily nodded. “I understand.”

Alex finally pulled his fingers out. “Well, time’s up I guess. I’ll leave you in peace so you can wake up Sleeping Beauty there and get yourselves showered and dressed.”

“Okay,” said Emily. “Thanks again, Alex.”

“Oh, one more thing,” said Alex. “The fingering ... totally against the rules. The shaving, too. Please ... don’t tell anyone?”

Emily shivered. It was a little shocking that he had broken more rules with her, but she was not really all that surprised. “Of course I won’t,” she assured him. “You have my word.”

“Even him,” said Alex, nodding towards Nathan. “The last thing I need is a jealous fiancé complaining to the management.”

Emily was torn. “I hate to keep things from him,” she said fretfully. But in truth, she was nervous about telling him the full story of what Alex had done. Perhaps she could give him a slightly sanitised version, for the sake of the harmony of their relationship. “But okay – I won’t tell him about the ... rule-breaking stuff.”

Alex smiled, and nodded. Then he picked up the things he had brought in, and carefully carried them over to the door. Once he had left the room, Emily sighed. She was still naked, with her legs spread and her shaved pussy on vulgar display ... and she marvelled about how comfortable she had become, being this way with Alex in the room. Though he had only just left, she could hardly believe that moments ago, he had been sliding his fingers in and out of her vagina, and she had not minded at all. In fact, she had loved every second of it.

With an effort, she summoned up the energy to sit up and climb down from the table. Her back – and the rest of her – felt wonderful. She could detect no trace of the back pain that frequently plagued her on account of her heavy breasts. She had felt much the same way after Thursday’s massage, but by Saturday the familiar aches had begun to return. She hoped that this time the effects of the massage would last a little longer.

She wiped herself down with her towel, and pulled her panties back on. Then she walked over to Nathan’s table, and gently shook his shoulder. “Nathan?”

“I’m awake!” he announced, jerking his head up. A strand of drool hung from the edge of his mouth. He blinked a few times, then looked at Emily. “Hey there sexy,” he said. “Is the massage over?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “You fell asleep!”

“Aww man,” he grumbled. He turned on to his side, then sat up. “Well, my back feels pretty good,” he remarked. “I guess Helen gave me a good massage. How did yours go?”

“It was very nice!” said Emily, and her cheeks – which had begun to return to their usual colour – reddened again. “Quite ... intimate. You’d have enjoyed watching, I’m sure, if you’d been awake.”

“Yes?” Nathan inquired, with cautious interest. “What did he do...?”

“Just a very thorough massage,” said Emily vaguely. Then, feeling she ought to be more specific, she added, “He spent quite a bit of time on my breasts ... and, um, my butt...”

“Oh!” said Nathan, looking both intrigued and envious. “That must have got your panties pretty oily ... unless ... you took them off...?”

Emily’s blush deepened. “He ... he took them off himself,” she confessed, feeling unable to hide this fact from him. “He didn’t even wait for me to give my permission!”

“Oh my ... wow...” Nathan seemed conflicted. “Well that was ... bad...”

“Yes ... kind of,” said Emily awkwardly. “The butt massage felt pretty good, and I think it probably helped my back. But it was pretty embarrassing!”

Nathan chuckled. “I’m sure,” he said. Then his brow furrowed. “Presumably you were on your back when he massaged your boobs; were your panties off at that point?”

Emily put her face in her hands. “Yes!” she admitted wretchedly. “I was naked!”

Nathan ground his teeth, his hands clenching and unclenching. “So he saw your pussy,” he said. “I haven’t even seen that!”

“I know!” Emily wailed. But then she recalled an earlier conversation they had had. “But you said yourself ... it’s the same as if I went to the doctor, right? It’s just part of his job.”

“True,” Nathan conceded. “I guess I just wasn’t expected this Alex to be so ... good-looking and muscular...”

Emily chuckled. “Are you jealous, Nathan?” she teased him gently. “Goodness, he’s old! Well, comparatively. Old enough to be my dad, anyway!”

Nathan grinned ruefully. “Well, since your masseur has seen your pussy, maybe you’d be willing to show it to me...?”

“That depends,” she replied, folding her arms. “Are you willing to show me your erection?”

Nathan grimaced. “Wedding night!” he said. “Look, you’ve seen my cock, at least. Isn’t that enough?”

Emily pursed her lips. Before today, she might have relented, but she did not dare let him see her pussy all oily, newly shaven, and thoroughly fingered. “We had an agreement, Nathan,” she said. “I’m not sure why you’re so reluctant to show me your erection; I’m certainly willing to show you my pussy as soon as you do. But we should hurry up and get out of here, so they can use the room again. We can take our towels and robes to the showers, and leave them there.”

“Okay,” said Nathan.

Picking up their clothes and other belongings, they headed to the showers. Emily washed all the oil off herself, and spent a little time stroking her newly-shaved pussy. It felt and looked so strange to her; she was not yet sure if she wanted to keep it this way. The thought of growing it back in the shape of a heart was amusing, but sounded like it might be tiresome to maintain.

After she had dried herself and put on her clothes, she left the shower and found Nathan waiting for her. They walked back to the main lobby, left the building, and then called Mary, who came and picked them up.

“Where to?” she asked, as they climbed in. “You’ve got your band meeting, right?”

“Yes,” said Nathan. “I’ll direct you.”

The journey took them about twenty minutes, leaving them about seven to spare. “Thanks for driving us, Mrs Davis!” said Nathan. “And for that delicious lunch!”

“You’re welcome,” said Mary with a smile. “Have fun! Emily dear, you may want to pull that skirt down a little.”

“Oh goodness!” said Emily, blushing as she tugged her skirt back down into place. “Thank you.”

Mary drove off, and Nathan and Emily entered the old publishing building. In the press room, they found Warren and the Vespucci brothers already rehearsing, but Marco stopped playing as soon as they entered. “Hi guys!” he said happily. “Looking great there Emily!”

“Hi Marco,” said Emily, pulling her skirt down again. Even in the short walk from the car, it had ridden up a little. “And thank you. Hi Vinnie, hi Warren.”

“Come join us!” said Warren. “We figured we might as well get some practice in while we wait for Brian; he said he was running a little late.”

“Sure!” said Nathan. “You can practise your dancing, Emily.” He grinned.

They rehearsed Cherry Pie, Hometown Girl, and Whatcha Doin’ Girl, and Emily worked on perfecting her dance moves. Her skirt, however, kept threatening to climb up around her hips and expose her panties, and she was glad that she had both hands free to keep it under control. If she had been holding a mike, she would have found it quite tricky to keep her panties covered.

They were in the middle of Whatcha Doin’ Girl when Brian entered. He was a sturdily-built, scruffy-bearded, leather jacket-wearing man in his mid- to late forties, and he took off a pair of sunglasses as he approached the band.

“Hey, Brian!” said Warren.

“Hi guys,” said Brian. “How are you all doing?”

There was a smattering of upbeat responses, and Emily added, “Nice to meet you!”

Brian smiled at her, and looked her up and down. “Ah yes, the star of Friday’s show.” Nathan looked a little put out by this. “Oh don’t get me wrong, the rest of you were great,” he added. “But who was everyone talking about afterwards? I’ll tell you; it was Emily.”

“Yeah, she’s a fortuitous addition to the band, no doubt,” Warren conceded.

“She got my notice,” said Brian, “and she ensured that the patrons of Lucky’s will remember the name Compass for a long time to come. But you gotta capitalise on that success. Hal’s Rock Club is a good next step, because it’ll get you a review in the Sentinel. Every band that plays at Hal’s gets reviewed in the Sentinel, because Artie Cohen, who owns Hal’s, is the nephew of Miriam Lester, the editor-in-chief of the Sentinel.”

“Wow!” said Marco, impressed. “You know your stuff!”

Brian grinned. “It’s my job to,” he said. “But there’s more. The reviews are generally written by a couple of different people, but I have it on pretty good authority that next weekend one of them, Craig Burgess, will be out of town. This means that the reviewer will likely be Fred Chang, who I know from experience enjoys seeing a bit of eye candy on stage. The timing couldn’t be better; he’ll likely be kind in his review even if he doesn’t think much of the music. So you’re already starting out with an advantage; it’ll be up to you guys to make the most of it. If you can sell him on the music too, I guarantee he’ll give you a rave review.”

“Sweet!” said Warren. “See guys? I told you it was a good idea bringing Brian on board.”

“What are you getting out of it, Brian?” Vinnie inquired. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Twenty percent,” said Brian. “That’s not much right now, but I believe in you guys, and I want to see you succeed. Before long, I’m sure, you’ll see some serious money rolling in. With my help of course.”

“Sounds good to me!” said Warren.

“Oh, one other thing,” said Brian. “You’ll want to practise another couple of songs. Gigs at Hal’s are generally around twenty to twenty-five minutes long, for new bands, and your set on Friday was barely half that.”

“Oh!” said Nathan, looking concerned. “Well we do have a couple more, but they’re pretty unrehearsed, and I’ll need to write backing parts for Emily...”

“Then get on that!” said Brian cheerfully. “You’ve got the whole week to practise; I’m sure you can do it.”

“We will,” Warren assured him. “You can count on us.”

“I’m sure I can,” said Brian. “Well, I’ll just hang out for a bit and watch you guys rehearse, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure!” said Nathan. “Okay guys, Whatcha Doin’ Girl, from the top.”

They played through the song almost flawlessly. At the end, Brian clapped appreciatively. “Nice!” he said. “Very good. But speaking as an audience member, I do have some constructive feedback.”

“Oh?” asked Warren warily.

“Bass guy,” said Brian. “I’m sorry – I forgot your name...”

“Marco,” said Marco.

“Okay Marco, well your enthusiasm is awesome, but maybe dial it back a bit? It’s just a little over the top. I mean, you’re the bassist, right? If you were doing like super flashy fretwork it would maybe seem appropriate, but as it is ... it just seems kinda out of proportion, you know?”

Marco said nothing, but stared stonily at Brian.

“And Emily ... what happened to those awesome dance moves I saw on Friday? You seem really, I dunno, awkward now.”

“It’s this skirt,” said Emily, embarrassed. “It keeps riding up when I move.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” said Brian. “The skirt is great – I love it. I just didn’t figure you to be quite so self-conscious about it, given your performance the night before last. Are you not wearing underwear today or something?”

“I am!” said Emily, her cheeks turning red. “But I was trying to keep them covered.”

“So modest!” said Brian. “You weren’t so shy last time. Perhaps I’m the problem?”

“The atmosphere’s very different in a live setting,” said Vinnie. “You can’t blame Emily for not feeling so able to loosen up and show off, with an audience of one quiet person who’s just sitting there.”

Emily felt so grateful to Vinnie for this that she could almost have run over and given him a hug.

“Fair point,” Brian conceded. “It does make me worry, though, that she’ll freeze up if the audience isn’t already drunk and easy to please, like they were in Lucky’s. Hal’s is all about the music, and if they don’t like you, they won’t hold back. You’re a new band, and they won’t know what to expect. Emily’s dancing might be the icebreaker you’ll need to get them on your side.”

“So you think she should flash her panties?” asked Nathan.

“Sure, why not?” said Brian. “She did on Friday, and they loved it. Have you seen Lucky’s website lately? That photo of her sticking her butt out, with her panties showing under that little denim skirt she was wearing, is by far the most downloaded photo from that night.”

All five band members stared at him. “Lucky’s has a website?” asked Marco.

“Sure! Mitch creates a separate page for each band that plays there, and his customers upload photos they’ve taken.”

Nathan pulled out his phone, and then Warren, Marco and Vinnie did the same. Moments later, they were all checking out photos from Friday’s gig. “Nice one of you, Marco,” Vinnie remarked.

Emily went over to peer over Nathan’s shoulder. He had just opened a photo of her bending over, her panties very much on display. “Oh goodness!” she groaned.

Nathan chuckled. “Very sexy!” he said. “But there are better ones of you. Here, look.” He showed her a few more photos, some of which showed her in a fairly good Latin ballroom pose.

“Oh I like that one,” she remarked. “Are there any good ones of you?”

“Let’s see,” he said.

“All right guys,” said Brian, “you can admire yourselves later, and I can’t stick around for much longer. How about another song? I’d like to see a little more energy from Vinnie, a little less from Marco ... and Emily, try to imagine you’re performing for a crowd of adoring fans.”

Emily swallowed nervously. She knew what he wanted her to do. “I’ll try,” she said.

“Cherry Pie?” Nathan suggested.

“Works for me,” said Warren.

They began playing, and Emily tried not to worry about what was happening to her skirt as she danced. Every so often, she tugged it back down into place, but she guessed from Brian’s lecherous grins that she was not keeping her panties very well hidden.

At the end of the song, he applauded enthusiastically. “Great stuff!” he said. “Marco, I liked that you were more restrained there; you were great. Vinnie, I like your classic rock poses, but they still feel a little stodgy and cliché. Maybe work on some kind of signature moves all your own. Just a suggestion! Your fretwork was great. And Emily ... so much better! Love the skirt, love the panties, love the dance moves. You’re going to be a big hit at Hal’s, I can tell you. Nathan ... you can get a little pitchy here and there. See if you can work on that. Maybe get some singing lessons or something. Warren, you killed it on those drums – nice job.” He got to his feet. “Keep practising; I’ll see you on Saturday, okay?”

“Bye Brian!” said Warren.

After Brian had left, Nathan scowled at the door. “What the fuck!”

“Language, Nathan!” said Emily, shocked.

“Why’d he say I need singing lessons?” Nathan demanded. “Rock singers are often a little pitchy – it goes with the territory!”

“Take it easy man,” said Warren. “We all strive to get better at what we do. Emily took a dance lesson, and look how it paid off! Maybe a singing lesson would be valuable...”

“I don’t need singing lessons!” said Nathan angrily. “I’ve been singing my whole life! I can sing!”

“Sure, of course you can,” said Vinnie diplomatically. “But hey, nobody’s perfect, right? I’m sure we can all use a little improvement...”

“I don’t see anyone suggesting you get guitar lessons!” snapped Nathan. He turned to Emily. “Do you think I need singing lessons?”

Loyalty was more important to Emily than honesty. “You have an awesome rock singer voice,” she assured him. “I love it.”

Nathan smiled, and looked relieved. “Thank you!” he said. “At least someone thinks so.”

“Dude, she’s your fiancée!” said Marco bluntly. “Of course she’s not going to criticise your singing.”

“But you would?” Nathan demanded. “Go on then – what’s wrong with my singing?”

Marco shrugged. “Like Brian said, you can be a little off the note. But heck, I’m not judging; I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.”

“But you’re not talking about mistakes!” exclaimed Nathan. “What you’re saying is that I can’t sing! That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You all think I’m a crappy singer!”

“Nobody thinks that, dude,” said Warren calmly. “You’re overreacting.”

“Oh am I?” asked Nathan, aggrieved. “Well how about this for an overreaction?” He kicked over his microphone stand, then he stormed over to the door, and flung himself through it.

“Shit,” Vinnie muttered.

“He’ll cool off in a bit,” said Warren. “Fact is, he could use a couple of singing lessons, and we all know it.”

“I should go after him,” said Emily anxiously, and she hurried towards the door, tugging her skirt down as she went.

She found him sulking just outside the building. She was not sure what to say, so she just gave him a hug, which he accepted wordlessly.

After a couple of minutes, he said dolefully, “I know I’m not the world’s best singer. You can sing a lot better than I can – I know that. But I thought I was good enough for a rock band, I really did.”

“You are!” she said firmly. “You were great on Friday! You weren’t just great as our lead singer, you were great with the audience! You knew just what to say; you handled yourself beautifully! I would be awful at that part.”

“Thanks Baby,” said Nathan gratefully. “Your support means a lot to me.”

“Tell you what,” said Emily, “how about we go back to that Italian place for dinner this evening? You’ve still got that voucher, right?”

Nathan brightened. “Yes!” he said. “That would be nice.” Then he grinned. “Maybe that old waiter will spill something on you again.”

Emily shuddered. “I hope not!” she said. “I won’t be wearing a bra this time.”

Nathan grinned.

Emily smirked. “Oh I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Me sitting at the table in just my panties and shoes, trying to keep my breasts covered while eating my dessert.”

“That does sound awesome!” said Nathan excitedly.

Emily chuckled. “Well for my sake I really hope that doesn’t happen,” she said, “but by all means enjoy the mental image.” She pursed her lips. “Now, what do you think about this whole singing lesson idea? I’ll support you either way.”

Nathan sighed. “What if I take a lesson, or a couple of lessons ... and they don’t help? What if I’m just innately not a good singer?”

“You know what happens when people who aren’t good at something take lessons, and practise a lot?” asked Emily. “They get better! Nobody’s incapable of improvement, Nathan. You’ve just got to be open to trying.”

He nodded. “Fine, I’ll give it a shot,” he said. “But I’m doing it for you, and for the band. Not for that asshole Brian.”

“Fair enough,” said Emily. “Shall we go in and tell the others? I’m sure they’ll be very happy for you.”

“Okay,” said Nathan.

The others were, indeed, happy to hear that Nathan had come around. Nobody knew of anybody who taught singing, however, so Nathan did a quick web search. He was highly unsatisfied with what he found, however: private lessons with a professional seemed to cost a great deal of money, and the only music school in the city offered lengthy courses of weekly lessons. He did, however, find a website offering online lessons via Skype, and he quickly settled on this as his favourite option. It was not too expensive, and it did not tie him into a long course.

By now it was well after six o’clock, so everyone helped load up Warren’s van, and then they all went their separate ways. Not wishing to impose on Mary any further, Nathan and Emily caught a bus to Romano’s.

As they entered the restaurant, they immediately spotted Nick waiting on one of two occupied tables. Since there seemed to be nobody else around, they waited patiently until Nick was available.

“Hello again!” he said, coming over to greet them, his eyes wide as he looked Emily up and down. “I am so sorry about last time, but I’m very glad to see you back. Very glad... Come this way – here, I hope this table will do.” He had stopped next to a table against the far wall.

“Thank you, that’ll be fine,” said Nathan, and he and Emily sat down across from each other.

This time Nick’s service went without a hitch, to Nathan’s apparent disappointment. “Can’t believe we’re on our main courses already, and he hasn’t spilled anything on you!” he remarked with a rueful chuckle.

“I’m actually quite surprised,” said Emily wryly, “given how distracted he was by my top.”

Nathan grinned. “It’s very fetching,” he said. “As is your skirt. I can’t believe how comfortable you’ve become with such skimpy outfits, Emily! It just blows my mind.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘comfortable’ is the right word,” said Emily thoughtfully. “I still feel quite nervous and embarrassed in clothes like these. But it’s undeniably exciting, at the same time, and I find I quite enjoy the adrenaline rush that comes with being so exposed. And people pay me such nice compliments – mainly men of course. It’s nice to be told I’m beautiful, and sexy, and that I have nice legs, or nice breasts.”

“I’m sure!” said Nathan.

Emily bit her lip. Then, lowering her voice, she said, “Nathan ... I didn’t tell you everything about the massage.”

“Oh?” asked Nathan in surprise. “What else happened?”

She took a deep breath. “I ... I promised I wouldn’t tell you everything he did,” she said. “He made me promise, because he did some things he’s not strictly allowed to do, and he’s concerned for his job. He doesn’t want you getting upset and complaining to his boss.”

Nathan pouted a little, bit he looked intrigued. “Can’t you give me a clue?” he asked hopefully. “Without actually telling me? You know I wouldn’t complain to his boss, right? At the most, I’d ask you to stop going there.”

“I know,” said Emily. “At least, I thought that would be your position, but it’s nice to hear you confirm it. As for a clue ... well, um...” Her cheeks flushed a little. “Let’s just say, he massaged some parts that were covered up last time.”

Nathan gasped. “He massaged your pussy?”

“Hush!” said Emily nervously, looking around and seeing the heads of the other diners turning towards her with interest. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Holy cow,” muttered Nathan. “And you won’t even let me see it! Did you ... like it?”

“I liked it about as much as I can like anything,” Emily admitted. “It was ... an amazing massage.”

“Wow!” said Nathan, looking envious. “I’m so bummed I fell asleep and missed the show! Do you think my masseuse would have rubbed my ... my cock ... if I’d stayed awake?”

“I honestly don’t know,” said Emily, though she was quietly very glad that this had not happened. She trusted herself not to abandon Nathan for another man, however handsome that other man might be; she was not nearly so sure that Nathan’s head could not be turned.

Nathan was silent for the next couple of minutes as he toyed with the tortellini on his plate. Then he said, “I don’t mind your masseur massaging your pussy ... but if you’re going to let him do that, I think you should let me see it and touch it too.”

“Touch it!” said Emily. “Nathan, we agreed a long time ago about what we would and wouldn’t do before marriage.”

“Yeah, but that was before you started getting such intimate massages!” said Nathan. “Things have changed, and I think we should revisit our rules.”

Emily bit her lip. She had been thinking along similar lines, but she did not want to risk opening up the floodgates. What if they got carried away, and had sex? “Maybe I’ll let you touch it ... through my panties,” she said. After all, Paul had done this; it was only fair to let Nathan do it too. And it did feel very nice...

“Can I see it too?” asked Nathan hopefully.

Emily hesitated. She was a little nervous about what he might think about its shaven state. “I ... I’ll think about it,” she said.

Nathan grinned. “Maybe I should force the issue, and splatter marinara sauce all over your clothes, and ask Nick to take them away for washing,” he said mischievously.

Emily regarded him with amusement. “You wouldn’t do that,” she replied confidently.

“Oh wouldn’t I?” he inquired, spearing a sauce-covered piece of tortellini with his fork and then holding it up, pressing it forward with his thumb while pulling it back with the index finger of his left hand.

“Don’t you dare!” said Emily quickly.

Nathan chuckled, and popped the piece of tortellini into his mouth. Then he grimaced. “You know, I’m not really feeling all that hungry.” He set his fork down.

“Really? You haven’t eaten much,” said Emily. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Not that great, to be honest,” Nathan admitted.

Nick shuffled over to check on them. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“I think I’m done,” said Nathan.

“Me too,” said Emily.

Nathan got to his feet. “Just going to run to the restroom.” Looking rather unwell, he hurried off towards the men’s room.

Nick picked up Nathan’s plate. “Would you like me to box up your leftovers?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Emily. “Thank you.”

Nick leaned over to pick up her plate, not noticing that Nathan’s plate in his right hand was too low above the tabletop to clear Emily’s half-full glass of cranberry juice. Emily spotted the imminent disaster too late to warn Nick, and the glass toppled over, its contents spilling across the table directly towards her. She gasped and tried to push her chair back, but its rubber feet failed to slide against the unpolished hardwood, and she merely tipped her chair back a little, before coming back down. Cranberry juice dribbled off the table on to her napkin, which she hastily picked up and used to mop up the juice on the table.

“So sorry!” said Nick, panicking, and he hastily put Nathan’s plate atop Emily’s, which he was carrying in his left hand, in order to pick up the fallen glass with his right. But either his elderly left wrist was not up to the task of carrying two plates, or he was too focused on the glass to keep control of the plates ... because the next thing Emily knew was that Nathan’s plate was sliding off her own, and coming directly towards her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, trying to catch it. And she probably would have succeeded, had not Nick in his flustered state attempted to catch it himself with his right hand, having just set the glass upright.

In the confusion that followed, Nathan’s half-finished plate of tortellini was catapulted towards Emily, whose flailing attempt to catch it merely resulted in orienting it vertically, so that it thudded against her well-padded chest.

“Not again!” groaned Nick, retrieving the plate and setting it down carefully on the table.

“My new top!” said Emily plaintively, as marinara-saturated tortellini slid into her cleavage, and down both the inside and the outside of her tank top.

“Once again I’m so sorry!” said Nick earnestly. “Abjectly, humbly sorry. I’m sure this’ll cost me my job, but no matter; the least I can do is get you cleaned up. I’ll go and get a wet cloth.” He hurried off back to the kitchen, while diners at the other occupied tables looked at Emily in amusement.

With a sigh, Emily began retrieving pieces of tortellini from her lap. Those that had fallen inside her cleavage had dropped all the way down her belly, since her top was very loose, and she found them all sitting on her miniskirt.

She hoped that Nathan would return before Nick, but it was not to be. The old man carefully brought a bowl of water to her table, and having set it down, soaked a white washcloth he had brought with him. “It’s like déjà vu, isn’t it?” he remarked, in an attempt at levity, as he brought the wet cloth over to Emily’s chest.

“Yes,” Emily agreed, without enthusiasm. Then she gasped at the coldness of the wet cloth as Nick began wiping marinara sauce from her upper chest and cleavage.

“Sorry,” said Nick. Then he began rubbing at a sauce spatter on her top, a couple of inches above her left nipple.

“Careful Nick,” said Emily nervously.

“Sorry,” said Nick again. “Let me just...” He tucked his left hand inside her top, pulling it away from her chest, so that he was scrubbing the stain against his own hand rather than against her breast.

This was all very well – Emily appreciated that he had stopped rubbing part of her breast – but now she could see her nipples by looking downwards, and she suspected that Nick could too. Nathan would surely love this, and at this point, the list of men who had seen her breasts had grown so long that she was not particularly perturbed about Nick joining it. So she said nothing, and merely hoped that Nick would be gentlemanly enough not to say anything lewd.

“No bra today?” he asked cheerfully, as he scrubbed at her top.

This was unexpectedly brazen of him, and Emily blushed. “I’ve recently started going without,” she explained. “Nathan seems to like it.”

“I can see why,” said Nick. “You’re beautifully put together, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Emily did mind his presumption, but only a bit, and compliments were always nice. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Looks like some pasta went down the inside,” Nick remarked. “Do you mind if I wipe that up? Otherwise it’ll make your top even messier on the inside...”

Emily opened her mouth to reply, but she did not get a chance, as Nick took the cloth into his left hand, and slid it down inside her top, while now using his right hand to pull her top away from her chest. Emily glanced around nervously, and saw the young couple at the nearest occupied table leaning towards each other and talking in whispers while casting furtive glances at her. At the other table, an older couple seemed to be trying to keep their teenage son from looking back at her over his shoulder.

“So sorry about this,” Nick muttered, as he rubbed his washcloth around the upper part of her left breast, then the inner part, and then around the front, so that he was literally cupping her breast through the cloth, with her nipple in the palm of his hand. Emily gasped, but the grope was very brief; he moved across to her right breast and began giving it the same treatment.

“Nick, I really don’t think the sauce got that far over,” said Emily uncomfortably.

“I’m just being thorough,” said Nick, now practically massaging her right breast through the cloth. “There, all done.” Then he sank his hand down between her breasts, to her navel and beyond, all the way down to the waistband of her skirt. As he wiped his way around her belly, his forearm sandwiched between her breasts, he continued to peer into her top, smiling at her nipples.

“Nick, we’re being watched,” said Emily uneasily. She did not want the parents of the teenager, who was trying desperately to sneak backward looks without his parents noticing, to complain about her and make a scene.

Nick pulled his arm out, and used both hands to hold her top away from her torso while he peered inside. “There’s marinara sauce all down the inside of your top,” he said. “You know, I think it’ll have to come off if I’m to clean it properly.”

Emily shivered. “I’m not taking it off out here in front of these people!” she whispered vehemently.

“Right, right,” agreed Nick, finally releasing her top and straightening up. “Well perhaps you can wait in the restroom? Your boyfriend must be almost done, surely?”

“I’ll check,” said Emily, and she got to her feet, tugging her skirt down a little in the process. She walked quickly over to the restroom. “Nathan!” she hissed. “Are you nearly done? I need to get in there.”

“Ugh,” he replied. “Okay. Just a moment.”

Emily waited. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Nathan stepped out, looking very green around the gills. “Oh dear, Nathan!” said Emily, stepping forward and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay? You don’t look at all well.”

“I...” began Nathan, and then his eyes bulged, his cheeks puffed out, and he clutched his stomach as he bent forward, a torrent of vomit surging from his mouth. It cascaded over Emily’s ample chest, surging over the twin hills of her breasts and then pouring down into her cleavage and running down over the front of her top.

“Sorry,” gasped Nathan, and he turned and rushed back into the toilet, closing the door behind him.

Emily stood motionless in shock.

“Oh no!” Nick exclaimed anxiously, hurrying over. “We can’t let you stand there like that! Ugh, the smell! Come back to the employees’ restroom; you can wait there while I clean your clothes.”

Wordlessly, Emily followed him, past the young couple and the family, who all stared at her with expressions of startlement and disgust. As they entered the kitchen, two dark-haired men – whom Emily took to be the chef and his assistant – stared aghast at the vomit covering her top and still running down her skirt and legs.

“Nick, you can’t bring her in here like that!” said one of them in dismay.

“We’re going straight to the restroom,” said Nick. “Don’t worry Angelo, we won’t contaminate your kitchen. Hey Tony, could you please cover the tables while I’m helping Emily here?“

“Uh, sure,” said the younger of the two men.

The restroom was through a door on the far side of the kitchen. Emily entered, and Nick stood in the open doorway. “Do you think you can get your top off without messing up that beautiful hair of yours?” he asked.

Emily nodded. “It’s very loose-fitting,” she said. “I can pull it down.”

“Good,” said Nick. “Go on then – no need to be shy. I’ve already seen your amazing boobs, and they’re certainly nothing to be ashamed of!”

Nick’s demeanour seemed quite different now than it had on their first visit to Romano’s. Indeed it had changed markedly over the course of this evening. Perhaps he felt that he no longer had anything to lose, having assumed that his job was as good as lost. At any rate, he was definitely being more confident and assertive.

“Uh ... thank you,” said Emily, a little flustered. Then, anxious to get out of her vomit-soaked top and knowing that Nick had already seen her breasts, she slipped the straps off her shoulders, and pulled her top down, exposing her chest fully to his appreciative gaze.

“Might as well take off the skirt too, while you’re at it,” said Nick.

Emily pushes her top down past the top of her skirt, then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband, and pushed skirt and top down her legs together. Lifting her feet out one at a time, she then straightened up, now wearing only her panties and shoes. Putting one arm over her breasts, she held out her messy garments to Nick.

“Thank you,” he said, coming into the room and closing the door. “I’d better wash them in here; Angelo would have a fit if I used the sink in the kitchen.”

“Oh!” said Emily, taken aback. She stepped aside as he walked over to the ceramic basin, and watched as he dumped her clothes in, and started running cold water on to them.

He looked around at her, and glanced down at her panties. “Might as well take those off too,” he said.

Emily looked down, and saw to her dismay that her panties bore a couple of streaks of yellow vomit, no doubt sustained as she pulled her top and skirt down.

“You can use them to wipe your front clean,” Nick added. “And your legs.” Then he turned back to the basin, and began sloshing her top and skirt around in the cold water. “I’ll use cold at first, until I’m sure your top is marinara-free. Then I’ll switch to hot water and soap. Don’t worry Emily, your clothes will come out of this perfectly clean and stain-free.”

As much as he might have enjoyed looking at her breasts, he was clearly still invested in saving her clothing, and Emily appreciated that. Biting her lip, she pulled her panties down, stepped out of them, and then, following Nick’s suggestion, she used the mostly clean garment to wipe all traces of vomit from her breasts, belly, and legs. She would need a shower to do a proper job of cleaning herself, but for now, this would do.

Bending down, she also wiped a few splashes of vomit from her shoes. Then she stood up straight and, wadding up her panties, she held them out past Nick’s elbow. He turned to take them, and looked her up and down with a grin. By now she was covering her pussy with her left hand, so he could see little of her that he had not seen before, but he eyed her bare hips and her breasts with barely disguised hunger. “My goodness, your boyfriend is a lucky man,” he said. “If I were forty years younger...” Then he sighed, and turned back to the basin, dunking her panties into the water along with her other clothes.

“He’s my fiancé, actually,” said Emily, feeling a little light-headed. She could scarcely believe she was naked in a toilet with an old man she barely knew.

“Then he’s doubly lucky!” said Nick. “Congratulations to you both. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful life together. Have you set a date?”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “No, not yet. We’re trying to get financially stable first. Nathan doesn’t yet have a job.”

“Oh, right,” said Nick, and he continued to make small talk while he washed her clothes. Once he had washed all the vomit down the plughole, and scrubbed all the marinara sauce out of her top and skirt, he refilled the basin with clean warm water, and rewashed everything with soap, he let out the water again, and thoroughly rinsed all three garments. The whole process had taken less than ten minutes. “There!” he said brightly, opening out her top after having wrung the excess water out of it. “Good as new. Just need to dry these things now...” He turned to face Emily, who was standing awkwardly with her right arm across her breasts and her left hand over her pussy. “If you could just move to one side, so I can get to the dryer...”

“Sure,” said Emily, stepping to her right. “Although ... you know ... I can probably manage to dry my clothes myself...”

“Would you rather do that?” Nick asked sympathetically. “I’m sure you’re probably not too happy about being so naked in front of an old codger like myself.”

Emily had no idea what a ‘codger’ was, but she nodded. “Yes please.”

“Of course,” said Nick, as he handed her the blue top. “Well look, at least let me show you how I got your clothes dry so quickly last time.”

“Okay,” said Emily reluctantly. The quicker she could be dressed in dry clothes, the better.

“All right,” said Nick, coming over to her as she turned towards the hand dryer. “The dryer will cut out if it doesn’t detect anything in front of the sensor, so the trick is to keep it active by holding part of the garment over the sensor at all times. Spread out your top with your hands inside it, and kind of stretch it a little, to spread the fibres apart and make it easier for the hot air to pass through the material.”

Emily did so, and as she held her top up to the dryer, hot air began to blast at the wet material, inducing rapid evaporation. “That’s it, perfect,” said Nick, peering over her shoulder at her exposed breasts. Then he sniffed. “Oh dear, you do kind of still smell of vomit I’m afraid...”

“Oh no!” said Emily in alarm.

“Don’t worry!” said Nick. “It’s only because I only wiped you down with a wet cloth instead of using soap ... and of course after that you were still wearing your messy top for a while so you probably got some more vomit on you. Easily fixed, though – you keep drying that top, and I’ll wash your front properly with soap so that you smell nice again.”

Emily gulped. She was strongly inclined to decline this suggestion, but he had already washed her front once; did it make a difference if he did so again but with soap? It would certainly be nice not to smell of vomit; the smell had not left her nostrils since Nathan had thrown up, but she had not realised, after she got naked, that she was smelling herself rather than just her clothes and the contaminated air in the room.

In any case, Nick was once again not waiting for permission. He had gone back to the basin, run some more warm water, and lathered up his hands with plenty of soap. Coming up behind Emily, he reached around her and began thoroughly soaping up her upper chest. She gasped, but did not object, so he continued spreading the soapy lather around with his bare hands until he was cupping her breasts.

“Need to get some more,” he said at this point, letting go and stepping back. He replenished his hands with plenty more lather, then he returned to Emily, reached around her, and planted his hands firmly on her breasts. Hardly believing his luck as he diligently lathered up her soft fleshy orbs, he massaged and kneaded and caressed them over and over again, continuing long after they had both become fully covered.

Emily’s cheeks were turning redder and redder. At first she had told herself that since her breasts had received the lion’s share of Nathan’s stomach contents, Nick was justified in spending a little more time on them. Then she told herself that it was inevitable that he would prolong the experience a bit, since he was after all a man, and that Nathan would probably get a kick out of hearing about it afterwards. Finally she realised it had been going on far too long, that Nick was just playing with her breasts for fun, and that he must have concluded by now that she was happy for him to do so. To react with indignation at this point would seem somehow disingenuous. And so she kept quiet, even as he energetically squeezed and kneaded her breasts, gently pinching and pulling on her nipples with his fingers and thumbs. Her breathing had begun to quicken.

Then, abruptly, he moved on down to her belly. “Need some more soap,” he muttered.

Emily turned her top around in her hands, positioning the dampest part closest to the dryer. A moment later she felt Nick’s arms encircle her again, his hands now on her belly, sliding up and down and around, getting lower and lower... Then he went back for more soap, as wet suds trickled down her abdomen and over her bare pussy. His hands were on her again, rubbing still lower, until they had almost reached her pussy. Then, just as she opened her mouth to caution him that he had gone far enough, he actually slid his hand down and cupped her pussy with his fingers.

“Nick!” she squealed. “I didn’t get any of Nick’s throw-up there!”

“I know,” he replied, rubbing soapy lather all over her pussy. “But the rest of your front is getting beautifully clean, and it doesn’t make sense to leave this part unwashed. Besides, there was some vomit on your panties; it might well have soaked through a little.” And he began stroking her pussy more firmly, sinking his middle finger between her labia and sliding it back and forth over her clitoris as he rubbed, and rubbed, and rubbed...

Emily’s eyes closed. Nick was being appallingly indecent with her, but the breast groping he had given her – so reminiscent of Alex’s massage – had aroused her just enough that her pussy was feeling quite receptive to the ministrations it was now receiving. Her breaths started to come in gasps.

But to her surprise, Nick spent less than half a minute on her pussy before moving on down to her thighs. He excused himself to get more soap, and when he returned, he thoroughly washed both of her legs, from hip to ankle. A little bemused, but not ungrateful, she continued to dry her top while he lifted first one foot and then the other, taking her shoes off and then washing her feet above and beneath. He even slipped his soapy fingers between her toes.

“Might as well finish what I started!” he said cheerfully, as he worked his way up the backs of her legs.

“Goodness, Nick,” said Emily, laughing nervously, “I won’t need a shower tonight, after this.”

“That’s the idea!” he said. “No point in washing just half of you. I’m afraid I don’t have any shampoo though so I’ll have to skip your hair.”

“That’s fine!” said Emily.

Having fetched more soap, Nick now began working on her bottom, thoroughly lathering up both buttocks and displaying no reticence about plunging his hands between them. Emily gasped again as his fingers slid over her anus, then bit her lip as this happened several more times. Sliding his whole hand between her slippery thighs, he cupped her pussy again, and gave it a few bonus rubs. Then he moved on upward to the small of her back. By the time he had reached the back of her neck, her tank top was completely dry. She, on the other hand, was covered from neck to toe with white soapy lather.

“Um, my top’s dry now,” she said.

Nick rinsed off and dried one hand, and then took the top from her. “Just got to do your arms,” he said, “and then we’ll rinse you off.”

“That’s really not necessary...” she said, but he was already lathering up her left armpit and shoulder. She sighed, and waited patiently while he finished washing both of her arms, all the way down to her fingers.

“Want me to do your face as well?” he asked.

“No!” she said quickly. “Thank you. I can take care of my face myself.”

“Okay,” he said. “Then let’s rinse you off. Come over to the basin please.” He ran some fresh water as Emily stepped over to stand beside the basin, covering her breasts and pussy with her arms. Once the basin was full, however, Nick took hold of each arm in turn, sloshed handfuls of water over them, and wiped them down with his hands until they were free of soap. Then he said, “Okay, keep holding your arms out to the sides so they don’t get soapy again.” As she nodded, biting her lip, he sloshed warm water over her upper chest, and began wiping the soap off with downward swipes of his hands.

By he time he reached her breasts, his hands were soapy and slippery, but instead of going back for more water, he merely continued to wipe and stroke and smear the soap around, cupping and squeezing and kneading and caressing, while Emily stared up at the far corner of the ceiling with her lower lip caught between her teeth. It seemed a little late to start objecting to this treatment; she had resigned herself to simply waiting for him to get tired of playing with her breasts. Even when he began tweaking and tugging on her nipples, she said nothing.

Eventually he did go back for more water, and he had soon removed all the soap down to her navel. Continuing downward, he arrived at her pussy, which he started stroking sensuously with his soapy right hand. After a minute or so, he sloshed some more water over her abdomen, rinsed the soap from her pussy, and resumed stroking her labia and clitoris. Once again, Emily started breathing heavily, her breasts heaving as she closed her eyes and reluctantly allowed herself to enjoy the intimate caress.

Nick’s middle finger, pressed between her labia, was sliding further and further back between her legs with each thrust, and now Emily felt it dipping into her vagina. “Nick!” she gasped.

“Something tells me you’re enjoying this,” he said with a grin, pulling back a little to concentrate on her clit. “My fingers may be old, but they haven’t forgotten how to make a woman happy. Truthfully now, doesn’t this feel nice?”

“It does!” Emily gasped, still holding her arms out away from her sides. “It does feel nice...” She knew there was no point in denying it; her whole body was aglow with excitement.

“Good, good,” said Nick, nodding with satisfaction. He slid his finger further back, curling it upward as it entered her vagina, and as she gasped in alarm, he started stroking her g-spot.

“You shouldn’t be doing that!” she said urgently, but she felt paralysed.

“I’ll stop in a moment,” he assured her, but he continued stroking her, and she made no further objection as she waited for him to stop, part of her hoping he wouldn’t.

But he did stop, about a minute later, when her orgasm was still some distance away. He washed her thighs down, then her shins, and the tops of her feet. By now she was standing in a broad puddle. He straightened up, and looked her clean naked body up and down with a happy smile. “All right, turn around please.”

She did so, and he rinsed off the back of her neck, her shoulders, her armpits, and all the way down her back and sides, until he reached her bottom. Leaving his hands soapy, he began caressing and kneading her buttocks as thoroughly and blatantly as he had done with her breasts. “Bend over,” he instructed her, “and spread your feet apart some more.”

Emily was not sure whether this request was in order to facilitate rinsing her bottom, or to make it easier for him to finger her again ... but since she was feeling somewhat ambivalent about the latter anyway, she barely hesitated before complying. The trash can next to the basin offered support at about the right height; she bent over and placed her hands on it, and spread her feet apart to a distance of eighteen inches or so. Then she braced herself for his finger...

But then she felt warm water sloshing over her buttocks, and Nick’s hands wiping the soap away, and she relaxed a little and sighed with relief. She stiffened a little as his hand slipped between her legs, rubbing her pussy, but he seemed to be just rinsing it clean.

But the rubbing went on, and on, getting naughtier and naughtier. As he began rubbing her clitoris again, she closed her eyes, and when he slid a finger deep into her vagina, she could not prevent a little moan escaping from her lips. She arched her back a little as his finger began thrusting in and out of her, with no pretence that this had anything to do with cleaning her. ‘He’s old,’ she told herself. ‘Not a threat. No reason for Nathan to worry; he’d probably love this.’

Nick had now inserted a second finger, and his knuckles were giving Emily’s g-spot the rhythmic attention it was badly craving by this point, as he thrust both fingers in and out of her. And despite the fact that her clitoris was currently getting no attention at all, it was enough ... and within two minutes, she was uttering muffled climactic moans into her left bicep, trying desperately to prevent the sounds of her orgasm permeate beyond the walls of the restroom.

Fetching more water as Emily panted heavily in the aftermath, Nick quickly rinsed down the backs of her legs, before beginning to dry her off with paper towels. But he did not finish the latter job. “I’ll leave you to finish getting dry, and drying your clothes,” he said. “I’ll go and check on your fiancé; he’s probably wondering where you are. I’ll let him know what you’re doing, and how long you’re likely to be.”

“Yes,” said Emily, feeling a stab of guilt. “He probably is. Thank you.”

Nick left the room, and Emily groaned. Why had she let the old man do that to her? Certainly, it had felt very good ... but it was surely a betrayal of her fiancé! Her only justification was that he would probably approve; she hoped very much that she was correct in this, but she was rather afraid to test the hypothesis.

Drying her skirt and panties took another ten minutes. Putting them on, along with her top, she heaved a sigh of relief; it was good to be dressed again, finally. What an adventure she had had, though! Now she just needed to figure out how much of it she dared tell Nathan about...

Putting her shoes back on, she left the restroom and hurried through the kitchen, carefully avoiding meeting the eyes of Angelo and Tony; she dreaded to think what they might have guessed about what had occurred in the restroom. In the dining area, she found Nathan sitting alone at their table, while Nick waited on a table of new diners (a family with two young boys).

She sat down. “Hi Nathan – how are you feeling?”

“Crappy,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry I threw up all over you, Babe. Must have been an unpleasant clean-up.”

“Actually,” began Emily, but at that moment the kitchen door opened, and out rushed Benito, looking highly concerned. Spotting Emily and Nathan, he smiled anxiously and came over to their table.

“I hear there was another ... incident?” he said. “I just got back from an errand; Angelo told me you were here, and that ... you’d just been cleaning up?”

“Yes,” said Emily, blushing.

Nick hurried over. “I’m so sorry Benito!” he said. “My clumsy old hands ... it was an accident...”

Benito glared at him. “You spilled food on this young lady again?? That’s it Nick ... this is the last straw. I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Wait!” said Emily hastily. “Don’t fire him – please! The spillage was nothing compared to Nathan throwing up all over me. And Nick went above and beyond in cleaning me up after that. He washed my clothes – he did a great job!”

Benito looked at Nathan, aghast. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Not really,” Nathan replied. “Better than I was ... I think it was something I ate...”

Benito groaned. “Oh no – I’m so sorry – what did you have?”

“Oh it wasn’t anything I ate here,” said Nathan. “My buddy Warren texted me a few minutes ago; he’s got the same thing. He and I went out for burritos at lunchtime; it was almost certainly that.”

“Oh,” said Benito, relieved. “Well, I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. But Nick ... you gotta stop spilling food on our customers!”

“Honestly, he’s more than made up for it,” said Emily earnestly. “He’s a good waiter.”

Nick looked at her gratefully. “Thank you,” he said.

Benito shrugged. “Well, okay then!” he said. “Tonight’s meal is on the house, of course, because of your last visit. I’m sorry that your experiences here have been so ... messy. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to return here, but I do hope you’ll visit us again sometime.”

“Oh, we will,” Emily assured him. “Won’t we Nathan?”

“Sure,” said Nathan mechanically. He was staring at the table.

Emily regarded him uneasily. “Let’s get you home,” she said.

“Sounds like a good idea,” said Benito. “Have a good night, both of you. I hope you feel better soon, sir.” He and Nick both headed back to the kitchen.

“We should leave a tip,” Nathan mumbled. “Our meal was free, but it’s not fair for Nick to get nothing.”

“Good point,” Emily agreed, though she doubted that Nick would be feeling like he had got ‘nothing’ from their visit, even if they left no tip.

Nathan pulled out his wallet, and dropped a five-dollar bill on the table. “Okay, let’s go.”

They left the restaurant, and walked the short distance to Nathan’s apartment building. Nathan seemed very subdued, and as they climbed the stairs, he said, “I think I might take an early night tonight. See if I can sleep this off. My stomach’s still feeling weird and my head feels fuzzy.”

“The wine you had at Romano’s might have something to do with that second part,” Emily remarked wryly.

Nathan chuckled. “Yeah, I probably should have stuck with soft drinks.”

“Should I just go straight home, then?” asked Emily.

Nathan smirked. “No, I’d like to spend a little quality time with you in my room,” he said. “You’ve got something to show me, remember?”

Emily gaped. “I said I’d think about it!” But even as she said this, she realised she could no longer justify keeping her pussy hidden from her fiancé. Not honestly, at any rate. Not after Nick. She sighed. “All right, fine, you can see my pussy. But no touching!” This was also no longer justifiable, of course ... but she was not feeling inclined to give everything away all at once. She really wanted to see Nathan’s erection, and since he remained for some reason highly reluctant to show it to her, she needed to hold on to at least some of her bargaining chips.

“Awesome!” said Nathan happily.

Entering the apartment, they found Mack playing a video game. He looked up, and grinned. “Hi guys!” he said. “Did you eat out?”

“We went to Romano’s,” said Nathan. “But it wasn’t a great experience. I threw up all over Emily.”

Mack looked Emily up and down; fortunately she had had the presence of mind to tug her skirt down after climbing the stairs. “Bummer,” he said, “but I wouldn’t have guessed! Did you have spare clothes with you or something?”

“The waiter washed my clothes,” Emily explained.

Mack stared at her. Pausing his game, he put down his controller and sat back on the sofa, folding his arms. “Now this sounds like a story worth hearing!” he said. “Tell me more!”

“Ugh, well feel free to tell him what happened, Babe,” said Nathan, shuffling off towards the bathroom. “I need to go to the bathroom, and I might as well get ready for bed while I’m in there.”

“Should I just plan on walking home alone then?” Emily inquired. “If so I’d rather not stick around; I don’t want to walk alone in the dark.”

“There are street lights all the way...” began Nathan.

“I’ll walk you home, Emily,” said Mack with a shrug. “I’d be happy to.”

“Thanks Mack,” said Nathan gratefully.

“Thank you,” said Emily.

Emily sat down, carefully, in an armchair while Mack gazed with interest at her legs. “So,” he said, “where were you when this waiter was washing your clothes?”

She blushed. “In the restroom,” she said. “It was actually the employees’ restroom; Nathan was busy occupying the customer one.”

“Huh,” said Mack. “So where did the waiter wash your clothes?”

Emily’s blush deepened. “Um ... in the same room.”

“Whoa!” said Mack. “So ... he saw you naked?”

Emily bit her lip, and nodded.

“Wow – does Nathan know this?” Mack inquired.

“Not yet,” said Emily nervously, hoping Mack was not planning to run to the bathroom and blab to Nathan. “I’m not planning on hiding it from him, though. I just haven’t had a chance yet. He’s been a little out of sorts.”

Mack nodded. “Well this is the second day in a row when you’ve found yourself unexpectedly naked in front of ... well, people you’d rather not be naked in front of. Is this a regular thing, for you...?”

“No!” said Emily. “Of course not. At least it wasn’t. I seem to have been having a run of bad luck lately.”

“Really?” said Mack, grinning. “Why, what else has happened?”

Emily chuckled. “No more stories,” she said. “I think I’ve told you quite enough already.”

“Well one thing’s for sure,” said Mack, “you’re certainly the hottest woman I’ve ever been lucky enough to hang out with. I’ll never forget our gaming session yesterday, as long as I live.”

Emily blushed, and smiled. “It was weird, being naked,” she said, “but I did enjoy the game.”

“You want to play again?” asked Mack.

“I’d like to,” said Emily apologetically, “but I suspect Nathan will be ready soon.”

“Yup, of course,” said Mack, nodding.

Nathan emerged from the bathroom in due course, and Emily followed him into his room, setting her bag down by the door. There, he stripped down to his boxer shorts, and climbed into bed. “Ugh, I’m not feeling so hot,” he muttered. But then he turned to face her, and smiled weakly. “All right, Babe,” he said. “I know this isn’t the most ideal of circumstances, but I would be ever so grateful if you could undress for me.”

Emily sighed, and nodded. If anyone deserved to see her naked, it was Nathan ... and yet she found herself feeling strangely shy. Perhaps it was because his opinion mattered to her more than that of anyone else. This was, after all, the man she was going to be spending the rest of her life with.

She tucked her thumbs into the sides of her skirt, and pushed it down her legs. Stepping out of it, she kicked off her shoes, then pulled her top up and over her head. Now she was wearing only her panties. Getting naked was such a quick business these days, she reflected.

She now hooked her thumbs into her panties, as Nathan watched eagerly. Then his face suddenly clouded over, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “Uh oh,” he said, scrambling out of bed. Rushing to the door, he flung it open and ran across the living room towards the bathroom.

Emily blinked, nonplussed. She was concerned for Nick’s well-being, of course ... but she also could not help feeling a little annoyed. She had finally decided to show him her pussy – this was a big deal for her – and he had run out of the room just as she was about to take off her last shred of clothing. It was a little like a slap in the face. Rationally, however, she knew it was not his fault ... so she sat down on his bed, and waited.

Two minutes passed. Then Mack stuck his head around the door. “Hi!” he said. Then “Oh!”

“Mack!” Emily gasped, covering her breasts.

He grinned. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realise you weren’t dressed. My goodness though, you really do have the most incredible body, don’t you?”

She blushed. “Did you want something?”

“Nathan asked me to take you home,” said Mack. “He says he may be in the bathroom a while, and it looks like ‘tonight just isn’t a good night’, whatever that means. I can guess, obviously.”

He was almost certainly guessing wrongly. “Not that!” said Emily hastily. “We’re waiting until we get married.”

“Oh!” said Mack. “Then ... never mind, none of my business. I’ll be just out here then, ready to go when you are.”

“Thanks,” said Emily. Once he had left the room, she put on her top, skirt, and shoes. Then she picked up her bag, and walked into the living room, where Mack was back on the couch, playing his game.

He looked up. “Ready?”

“Let me just say goodbye to Nathan,” she said. She walked over to the bathroom door. “Nathan?”

“Hey Babe,” he replied indistinctly. “Sorry I’m not better company. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” she said uncertainly. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow,” he said. “I just need to sleep it off.”

“Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow then,” she said. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Babe,” he replied.

She left the apartment with Mack, who to her surprise headed straight for the elevator. “You take the elevator for just one floor?” she inquired.

“Of course!” he said. “How else do you think I maintain this figure?”

Emily chuckled. “Okay,” she said.

In the elevator, Mack looked her up and down. “Your clothing choices have changed a bit since I first met you, haven’t they?” he remarked.

Emily nodded. “Nathan wants me to wear miniskirts all the time,” she explained.

“And you’re happy to do that for him?” Mack inquired, stepping out of the elevator as the door opened. “Seems to me it’s a far cry from what you’re used to.”

She shrugged. “I guess I quite enjoy it,” she said, walking beside him to the front entrance. “It’s still all very new to me ... I guess it’s kind of exciting.”

Mack grinned. “Well, good for you. But, uh, these people you live with ... what do they think? They’re religious types too, huh? Do you have to, like, sneak out of their house with a miniskirt on under a long dress?” He held the door open for her.

“Oh no,” said Emily, as she stepped outside. “It’s not like that. They’re nothing like my family; they’re really very progressive. They’re not at all offended by seeing me in skimpy clothes; in fact they kind of encourage it. I think it’s because they feel sorry for their son Paul, not having a girlfriend, and they like the fact that I’m around for him to look at.”

“That’s ... very cool of them,” said Mack enviously. “I can imagine Paul’s pretty thrilled to have you living there.”

Emily chuckled. “Yeah.”

“And this doesn’t bother Nathan at all?” Mack inquired. “That you’re hanging out with another guy, all skimpily dressed, giving him a woody no doubt... If I were Nathan I think I’d be a little bit concerned about that.”

Emily blushed and glanced around, but no other pedestrians were in earshot. “He doesn’t mind at all,” she said, a little ruefully. “He just doesn’t see Paul as a threat, you see. In fact, the less I wear around Paul, the more Nathan likes it. And he was thrilled to bits when I sent him...” Then she stopped, suddenly worried she was being too candid.

“Go on,” said Mack curiously. “What did you send him?”

Emily’s cheeks reddened. “Um, just a photo Paul took of me. It was quite ... revealing.”

Mack grinned. “May I see it?”

Emily shivered. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Just because Nathan likes Paul seeing me so ... unclothed ... doesn’t mean he wants everyone to see me that way.”

“Fair enough,” said Mack. “I guess it would depend whether he saw someone as a threat or not, right?”

“Something like that,” Emily agreed.

“All right then,” said Mack craftily, “in that case I think we can be pretty certain he’d be fine with you showing me that photo. I’m no more of a threat to him than Paul, right? I mean come on ... look at me.”

Emily glanced at him, and then self-consciously tugged her skirt down; it had been climbing steadily as she walked. “I don’t know, Mack,” she said dubiously. “He’s your friend...”

“All the more reason!” said Mack. “I’m Nathan’s friend, but not a threat, so I’m like the best possible person to see sexy photos of his gorgeous fiancée. Plus, don’t forget, he knows I saw you naked, and he didn’t seem at all bothered about that.”

Emily said nothing.

“C’mon,” said Mack with an ingratiating grin. “What would Nathan say, do you think?” He pulled out his phone. “Shall I text him and ask? Maybe he’d send it to me himself! Actually that’s a good idea; it’d be neat to have it on my phone so I can look at it whenever I want. And I could send it to my friends Troy and Elliott; they’d love it, I’m sure.”

Emily listened to all of this in mounting horror. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” she gasped.

“Why not?” Mack inquired. “They’re good guys ... and trust me, totally not a threat to Nathan. I’m sure he’d approve.”

Emily felt herself beginning to sweat. She had a feeling that Nathan would be delighted by this idea. “Please don’t,” she said, swallowing nervously. “I’ll just show you on my phone ... okay?”

“Well, okay, if that’s what you’d prefer,” Mack conceded. “Let’s see it, then.”

Biting her lip, Emily fished in her bag, and pulled out her phone. Pulling up her photos, she hesitated. She had not described the photo to Mack, so although she had been thinking about her negligée photo, she could possibly get away with showing him the second puddle photo instead. She selected it, stared at it for a moment, then shuddered. No, it was too sexy; she did not want him to see her with her legs spread like that. She flipped back to the first photo on her phone (as yet she only had three), and worried at her lower lip with her teeth. This was also super sexy, with her breasts clearly visible through her negligée ... but at least the pose itself was modest. And he had already seen her naked...

“Here,” she said, holding her phone about a foot in front of his face.

“Nice!” he said, taking the phone out of her hand, and ignoring her anxious gasp. “Wow – you let Paul see you in that? Holy shit!”

“Please mind your language,” she muttered, holding out her hand in the hope that he would put her phone back in it.

Mack swiped to the right. “Oh my GOD!” he exclaimed, staring at her mud-plastered panties looming large on the screen between her obscenely wide-spread thighs.

Emily squealed in alarm. “Please don’t look at that, Mack!” she wailed in distress.

He sobered up immediately, his delighted grin fading as he handed her phone back to her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was expecting maybe another shot of that amazing negligée. I had no idea ... but Jeez, Emily! Has Nathan seen that one?”

Having dropped her phone back in her bag, Emily stopped walking and put her face in her hands, as tears ran down her cheeks. Her shoulders began to shake.

“Oh Christ,” Mack muttered. He stepped in front of her, facing her, and reached out to put his hand on her shoulder ... then thought better of it. “Emily, I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have looked at the next photo; it was none of my business and I had no right. I’m very very sorry. Please forgive me.”

Emily mumbled something which Mack did not catch. “Say again?” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear...”

“I just said don’t take the Lord’s name in vain!” snapped Emily, taking her hands away from her tear-streaked face.

“I ... I’m sorry about that too,” said Mack, taken aback.

Emily shrugged her shoulders helplessly, and her lower lip quivered. “I guess I’m just ashamed of myself for letting Paul take that photo,” she said morosely. “To answer your question, no, Nathan hasn’t seen it. He’s seen a similar one, but I thought that one was too extreme. I didn’t realise Paul was going to take such a close-up shot!”

“But you let him see you like that,” said Mack. “Why would you deny Nathan a view of yourself that you allowed Paul?”

Emily opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She did not have a good answer for this.

But as it happened, she did not need to think of one. “Actually,” said Mack slowly, “if you think about it, it makes perfect sense.”

Emily stared at him through her tears. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Nathan’s your fiancé – the man you’re going to marry,” said Mack. “He’s the person whose opinion of you is most important to you, right?”

“Yes!” said Emily. This was so close to her own recent thoughts that she immediately began paying close attention.

“Okay, so you want to send Nathan some sexy photos,” Mack continued. “Cool. But who’s going to take them? Gotta be tricky to take a nice sexy photo of yourself, right? So you need a partner. Who better than a guy who has a crush on you and is happy to help out? That’s where Paul comes in. But taking sexy photos is a crapshoot – some are going to turn out great; others not so much. Some will be flattering, some won’t, some will be too sexy, others not sexy enough. Ultimately, you’re naturally only going to send your fiancé the best of the bunch, right? The photographer is going to see everything – the good and the bad – but since he’s not the one whose opinion matters most to you, that’s okay. It’s just part of the deal. So fu... uh, heck, it’s totally understandable that you wouldn’t necessarily send Nathan the more explicit of the two photos. You would send him the best one. Right?”

This made perfect sense to Emily. “Right!” she said gratefully.

“And while it was unfortunate that I saw that photo – and once again I’m so sorry about that – at least I’m someone whose opinion you have no reason to value particularly highly,” said Mack. “From your point of view, the biggest issue with me seeing it is the possibility that I’ll tell Nathan about it ... or maybe tell someone else. Let me assure you, Emily, that I will do neither. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, relieved. And as Mack had just resumed walking, so did she.

“Having said that,” Mack went on thoughtfully, “you know, as extreme as it was, that was a hell of a ... sorry, a heck of a sexy photo. I don’t know what the photo looked like that you ended up sending him, but if I were Nathan, I’d be absolutely delighted to receive the one I just saw. It was awesome. Paul seems to have a good photographer’s eye. The negligée photo was very nice as well. Nicely framed. He did a good job.”

“Oh,” said Emily, her brain whirring as she tried to process all of this information. “All the same, I ... I think I’d rather Nathan didn’t see this one. At least not yet.”

“And that’s totally fine,” said Mack smoothly. “Only send him what you’re comfortable sending him, that goes without saying. Just bear in mind that men and women tend to have different ideas about what constitutes a good sexy photo. A photo that makes you cringe to look at it, Nathan might think is the best thing ever – he’ll stare at it for a solid five minutes, save it in a special folder he’s reserved for the best of the best, and keep coming back to it every so often for the next few days and weeks to remind himself of how amazing it is. Conversely, a photo of yourself that you might think is amazing and beautiful, Nathan might look at and think ‘Meh, it’s okay’, toss his phone back on his bed, and get back to his video game. Of course he’ll tell you later that it was very nice, but you won’t get the extreme reaction of the excitement and joy and gratitude that you were probably hoping for.

“Okay...” said Emily slowly. “Well ... he really seemed to like the two I sent him so far...”

“Terrific!” said Mack. “That’s great. Some photos, naturally, are so good that you and he will both agree on their awesomeness. For others – like that muddy panties one I just saw – you might have different opinions. And for what it’s worth, I’d be more than happy to give you the benefit of my expert opinion on any you’re not sure about, in the future.”

Emily looked at him suspiciously. “You just want me to send you photos so you can enjoy them yourself.”

“Of course I’ll enjoy them!” said Mack candidly. “I’m a man, aren’t I? And you’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. But that doesn’t mean my offer isn’t genuine. I will absolutely give you my honest opinion on any photo you send me, and how much I think Nathan will like it. He and I are both guys, after all, and his opinions on sexy photos are more likely to be similar to mine than to yours. So if you want an honest male opinion before taking the plunge and sending a photo to Nathan, feel free to try me out. You can rely on my total discretion – I wouldn’t dream of sharing them with anyone else. I hope you know I was only kidding about showing your photo to Troy and Elliott.”

“I didn’t know that,” Emily confessed.

“Heh heh,” Mack chuckled. “No no – that was just a ruse to get you to show me your photo on your phone. Totally empty threat – there’s no way I’d share your photos with anyone else without your permission.”

Emily stared at him in shock. The man had just brazenly admitted to having tricked her into showing him a sexy photo of herself! “You ... you’re a naughty man, Mack!” she scolded him.

“I am,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t invalidate anything I’ve said. My offer stands, and if you take me up on it, one day you might find that I’ve saved you from sending your fiancé a photo that later you come to regret. Or else talked you into sending one that you don’t particularly like, but that turns out to be his absolute favourite. At the very least, please add me to your contacts on your phone. It won’t commit you to anything, but you’ll be able to employ my services if you choose to later.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Come on, what do you say? I’m a friend and roommate of your fiancé ... you might one day need to call or text me to ask if I know where Nathan is, or to give him a message if he’s not checked his phone in a while.”

Emily nodded. This part at least made good sense. “Okay,” she said, pulling her phone out of her bag again. Moments later, they had set each other up as contacts.

“Good!” said Mack. “I look forward to seeing more of your photos in the near future.” He grinned.

“Don’t get your hopes up!” Emily warned him with a slight smirk. “There may be some truth in what you say, but I can always ask for Paul’s opinion instead, you know. He’s a guy too.”

“Yeah but he’s your photographer,” said Mack. “Of course he’s going to inflate the quality of his own work. He’d hardly be an unbiased source of information. Besides, he’s young, and his tastes haven’t matured yet. Nathan’s my age, and I know he and I think similarly about certain things.”

“Hmm, okay,” said Emily, nodding. She was not at all sure that she would be requiring his services in either the near or distant future, but he had at least given her something to think about.

They reached the Davises’ house, where Emily dabbed her eyes dry with a tissue. “Thanks for walking me home, Mack,” she said.

“I wish I could say it was my pleasure,” said Mack, “but I’m legit totally devastated that I made you cry. As awesome as that photo was, I wish I could unsee it, for your sake.”

“It’s okay,” said Emily, giving him a small smile. “I know you didn’t mean to upset me, and you apologised sincerely. All is forgiven.”

“Thank you,” said Mack, looking relieved. “That makes me feel better. Have a good night, Emily.”

“Goodnight Mack,” she said.

She went inside, and entered the living room. “I’m home!” she announced, as Jacob and Mary looked up from the television.

“Welcome back!” said Jacob. “How was your afternoon?”

“Eventful!” said Emily. “We went out to dinner, and unfortunately Nathan got sick.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that!” said Mary. “I do hope he feels better soon.”

Emily nodded. “He took an early night,” she said. “Hopefully he’ll be better in the morning. Is Paul in his room?”

“Yes,” said Jacob. “And I fixed his television, so you’ll be able to play video games up there with him.”

“Oh good!” said Emily. “Thank you. I’ll head up there then. If I don’t see you later, have a good night.”

“Goodnight, Emily!” said Jacob and Mary.

Emily went upstairs, and first went to the bathroom, where she peed, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. She did not feel in need of a shower, since Nick had really given her a very thorough neck to toe wash. Her hair could skip a day. Going to her bedroom, she stripped off her clothes, then put on a clean pair of panties (Nick may have washed her old ones, but she still liked to go to bed with a fresh pair), and her negligée. Then she crossed the landing, and knocked on Paul’s door.

“Come in!”

She entered, and smiled. He had already loaded up Fists of Fire Ultra, and was waiting patiently for her with a big grin on his face. “I heard you come up the stairs,” he said. He was wearing only his underwear – a pair of black jockey shorts.

“No t-shirt today?” she asked him, coming over and sitting down next to him.

Paul shrugged. “I was hot,” he said. “Oh ... before we start, I got you something.” He picked perfect a little blue plastic bag from the floor, and handed it to her.

Emily stared at it in surprise, then she looked up at him. “You got me a gift? What’s the occasion?”

“Well I only just met you,” he said, “but already you mean a great deal to me. I’ve missed out on all the birthdays and Christmases of your life; this is an attempt to make up for it, a bit. It’s nothing very special, but I hope you like it. Go on, look inside!”

She opened up the bag, reached in, and pulled out a small pale blue garment with an unfamiliar black logo on it. “Panties?” she inquired, a little bemused.

“Not panties!” said Paul eagerly. “They’re running briefs. I researched them. This is what female marathon runners and Olympic athletes wear. They’re made of a polyester and elastane blend, with an inner layer to wick away moisture. I thought maybe you could wear them for running!”

“Wow!” said Emily, quite impressed with his research but nervous at the idea of going out running in such a skimpy garment. “Thank you, Paul, this is ... very generous of you! And ... how did you know my size?”

Paul blushed. “I, uh ... may have checked your things.”

“Oh,” said Emily, embarrassed. She was not entirely happy at the thought of him rummaging through her things ... but at least it was in a good cause.

“I thought, maybe,” said Paul, “we could go for a short run tomorrow morning. If you’re willing...?”

Emily bit her lip. She had been hoping to be able to poop in her panties again next door, first thing in the morning. But the run would not take long, since Paul was likely to manage only a short distance. There ought to be time for both before she had to get ready for work. “Okay,” she said. “Six o’clock?”

Paul grimaced. “Six? It’s vacation!”

“Not for me – I have to work,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “Okay, fine, six it is. Anyway, I hope you like them and that they’re comfortable and everything. If not, I can always take them back.”

“I’m sure they’ll be perfect,” said Emily. “Thank you Paul, this was very thoughtful.” She put her arms around him and gave him a hug.

He returned the hug, and then, as she began to draw away, he pressed his lips to hers. She felt his tongue nudging between her lips, and then his hand grasping her right breast through her negligée. She pulled back a little. “Paul...” she murmured disapprovingly.

“Just a little French kiss before we play?” he suggested with a hopeful grin. “I do need the practice...”

Emily chuckled. “Rascal,” she said affectionately. “Well, I guess you did just give me a present...” She closed her eyes as he moved in swiftly for another kiss. This time she opened her mouth, and let him gently caress her tongue with his. She noticed that he had removed his hand from her breast, but it did not occur to her to wonder what he was doing with it until he began pushing her negligée back over her shoulders. As it slid down her arms, she gasped, pulled back, and looked down at her exposed breasts. “Paul!” she said, covering them with her hands. “Goodness, you’re cunning with those strings!”

“Let me look at them,” he said, taking her wrists and gently pulling them away from her chest. “You have such beautiful boobs.”

Emily blushed, but did not resist. “Thank you,” she said.

Paul pulled the negligée‘s thin straps down her arms from her elbows, and lifted her hands out of them, one at a time. Then he grinned. “Now you’re only wearing your panties.”

Emily bit her lip. “I guess so,” she said.

Paul pulled the rest of the negligée from behind her, folded it up, and set it down on his pillow. “Shall we play now?” he asked impishly.

“Paul,” she said reprovingly, “I don’t think I should be playing video games with you while topless.”

“Why not?” he asked. “I’m topless too.”

“It’s different for boys!” she retorted. “Obviously.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he said. “I’ve already seen your breasts, and touched them, so what are you worried about? Are you cold?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Then let’s play,” he said, handing her a controller.

Emily was grudgingly impressed, and a little aroused, by Paul’s mischievous boldness. Hanging out with him and playing video games while dressed only in her panties was a new level of naughtiness – and one which she was certain Nathan would heartily approve of.

For over half an hour they played together like this. Then there was a knock on the door, and Emily froze.

“Come in!” said Paul cheerfully, to Emily’s horror.

The door opened, and in walked Mary, as Emily hastily dropped her controller and covered her breasts with her hands. She looked up at Mary with a guilty, apologetic expression.

“Oh!” said Mary, looking taken aback. “I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to intrude...” She was carrying an armful of clothing.

“It’s fine, Mom,” said Paul. “We’re just playing video games.”

Mary arched an eyebrow. “Without tops on?”

“I’m sorry!” gasped Emily.

“It’s hot!” said Paul. “I was already topless, and I persuaded Emily it would be fine for her to go topless too. It’s not like her nightie really hid her breasts anyway; we all knew what they looked like, pretty much, didn’t we?”

Mary chuckled. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. “Well anyway, I’ve brought a bunch of your clothes up, all clean and dry and folded.” She deposited the pile on top of Paul’s chest of drawers, then lifted the top half of the pile off again. “And these are yours, Emily. I’ll just go and put them in your room.”

“Thank you!” said Emily, her cheeks crimson.

Paul picked up Emily’s negligée, and held it out to his mother. “Would you mind putting that in Emily’s room too, please? Since you’re going there anyway?”

Emily’s eyes widened.

Mary took it, chuckling. “I don’t mind doing so, but I think it’s up to Emily,” she said. “Would you like me to put this in your room, dear?”

Emily hesitated, her thoughts whirling in confusion. She had been caught completely off guard by Mary’s unexpected entrance, and then by her seeming acceptance of Emily’s toplessness.

Mary regarded her shrewdly. “Actually,” she said, “it just occurred to me that I need to have a word with you, Emily. In private if you don’t mind, Paul. Emily, perhaps you could come with me to your room?”

“Um, sure,” said Emily, getting to her feet. With her hands clasped over her breasts, she followed Mary out of the room, across the landing, and into her own room.

Having set down Emily’s clothes, Mary turned to her, and smiled. “Well, dear, you’ve come quite a long way, haven’t you?”

Emily blushed. “I’m sorry...” she began, but Mary was having none of it.

“Hush,” she said, “it’s a good thing! And I’m very happy you’re getting along so well with Paul, and feeling so comfortable around him that you’re willing to be topless with him. “It’s really quite wonderful.”

“Um, okay...” said Emily, feeling relieved that she was not in trouble.

“You’re making Paul very happy,” said Mary, “and that makes me, as his mother, very happy too. So I want you to know that I’m perfectly happy for you to be topless in this house, and I’m sure Jacob will be too.”

“Oh – well I wasn’t planning to make a habit of it!” said Emily with a nervous laugh.

“Would you at least ... think about it?” said Mary. “I know Paul would love it...”

“Mary,” said Emily anxiously, “I feel like maybe you’re hoping that Paul and I will ... you know ... get together. But I love Nathan! He’s the one I’m engaged to.”

“I know, dear,” said Mary, looking wistful. “But you’re not married to him yet, and ... is it wrong for a mother to hope? Paul’s a good boy, and ... I just want the best for him, and for him to be happy.”

Emily hung her head. “I know ... I understand.”

Mary reached out and put her hands on Emily’s shoulders. “Look,” she said. “I’m not trying to undermine your relationship with Nathan. If he’s really the one for you, then I’ll be the first in line to congratulate you at your wedding. But in the meantime, if you can continue to make Paul happy in whatever ways you feel you can, then you’ll be doing me a huge personal favour. And I’ll be forever indebted to you for your kindness.”

Emily looked up, and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I can’t be his girlfriend properly,” she said, “but I’ve been giving him a little taste of what it’s like to have a girlfriend, and so far Nathan’s been supportive of that. I guess I’ll be happy continuing to do that as long as Nathan doesn’t object.”

Mary beamed. “Thank you, Emily,” she said, stepping forward and putting her arms around the teenager, who let go of her breasts in order to return the hug. Then, as they drew apart, Mary took Emily’s hands in hers. “So, will you at least consider making a habit of being topless? I know it will be strange at first to be so exposed in front of me and Jacob, but we’ll just try to ignore your state of undress, and endeavour not to make you feel any more uncomfortable than you need to.” She looked down at Emily’s breasts, and sighed. “Although, my goodness Emily, but you do have such a beautiful shape. I’d kill to have breasts like yours.”

Emily blushed. “They do seem to be getting a lot of compliments,” she said. She paused. “I guess I don’t mind showing them off, if you really want me to. It just seems so ... crazy ... to think of going about the house in nothing but my panties. Are you sure Jacob won’t object?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure,” said Mary. “But why don’t we go and ask him?”

Emily shivered. “I don’t know – what if he’s upset?”

“If he is, which I doubt,” said Mary, “he’ll be upset at me, rather than you. But trust me – it’ll be fine. Come along.”

Wide-eyed and covering her breasts with her hands again, Emily followed Mary out of her bedroom and down the stairs. As she entered the living room, she tried to stay behind Mary, but the older woman was having none of it. Taking Emily’s elbow, she guided her around the sofa to stand in front of Jacob, who looked up in surprise. “My goodness!” he exclaimed.

“I found Emily in Paul’s room, topless,” said Mary, “and she seemed quite happy to be that way, so I suggested to her that she go topless as a habit from now on. Paul will love it, of course, and Emily seems willing ... as long as you are okay with it. So, what do you think?”

“Wow!” said Jacob. “Uh ... I guess I don’t mind, as long as Emily’s comfortable being topless around us. But it doesn’t really seem that way, does it? Does she look comfortable to you?”

Mary looked at Emily. “You have a point,” she said, “but I think she’ll get used to it. Can you lower your arms, dear?”

Emily shivered, but dropped her arms to her sides.

“Goodness!” said Jacob, staring at her breasts. “You really are very lovely, aren’t you?”

“All right, dear, no drooling,” Mary chided him. “This is for Paul, not you. Emily, what do you think? If my husband can keep his comments to himself, do you think you can get used to this?”

“I sincerely apologise,” said Jacob penitently, now looking Emily in the eyes. “You deserve better from me. It was just a bit of a surprise, that’s all. From now on I’ll keep my comments to myself.”

“I don’t mind being called lovely,” said Emily, red-faced. “I’m not offended. Compliments are always nice. And I suppose it’s only natural for you to look. I don’t mind that either.”

Jacob smiled warmly at her. “So you’re really happy to dress this way as a matter of routine from now on? In this house, I mean.”

“If everyone wants me to, then I suppose I am,” said Emily. The idea was, after all, quite exciting.

“It’s very warm this evening, but it won’t always be,” said Jacob. “If you ever feel cold, just let us know and we’ll turn up the thermostat.”

“Okay, I will,” said Emily. “What if you have visitors?”

Jacob looked at Mary, who shrugged. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to run upstairs or hide if the doorbell rings,” he said. “I’m willing to justify your lack of clothing to anybody who comes to our door. Of course, if you are not comfortable being seen this way by a visitor, you may naturally go and put something on.”

“Thank you,” said Emily.

“Good!” said Mary brightly. “Well, now that that’s settled, why don’t you run along back to Paul’s room? It must be getting near time for your goodnight kiss...”

“Ah yes!” said Jacob. “I’m sure he must enjoy those. I must say I’m very grateful to you for being so kind to our son.”

“I don’t mind at all,” said Emily, her cheeks bright red. “He’s a nice boy.” Her nipples were stiffening visibly.

“Good!” said Jacob, pleased. “For a boy as lonely as Paul has been, even a peck on the cheek from a beautiful young woman must be rather magical.”

Mary glanced at her husband. “Indeed,” she said, a small smile playing about her lips. “But it’s not just a peck on the cheek, is it Emily?”

Emily’s eyes widened. How much did Mary know? “Um ... no...” she admitted.

“Oh?” Jacob inquired. “On the lips, then? My goodness!”

“Yes, and then some, according to Paul,” said Mary. “Isn’t that right, dear? Don’t worry, it’s not a bad thing. I’m very happy about it!”

“What does ‘and then some’ mean, exactly...?” Jacob asked.

Mary looked expectantly at Emily, who gulped. “Um ... we kind of ... French kiss,” she confessed. Then, feeling driven to greater honesty by the combined stares of the pastor and his wife, she added, “And ... he touches me.”

“Heavens above!” said Jacob, astonished. “Well, good for Paul! I mean ... as long as he’s not ... forcing you...?”

“Oh no,” said Emily, feeling light-headed. “I mean, he does push his luck a little ... but he stops when I ask him to.”

“Well that’s good,” said Jacob. “Does this mean that you and Nathan...” He stopped, looking puzzled.

“Nathan doesn’t mind,” said Emily quickly. “He knows I’m just being nice to Paul and that I won’t let it go too far.”

“Wow,” said Jacob uncertainly. “A generous man. I’m pretty sure I would not have been so ... understanding ... if Mary had been kissing another man while we were engaged. But ... since this arrangement is clearly benefitting my son, I suppose I should be grateful to Nathan ... and to you!”

“As am I,” said Mary, smiling. “I’m thrilled that you’re letting Paul touch you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Now go on upstairs, and have fun!”

Emily nodded, and walked quickly out of the room. After giving her a moment to climb the stairs, Mary tiptoed to the door, glanced up the stairs, and then tiptoed back. “Isn’t this exciting?” she said to Jacob.

“It is!” he agreed. “Did you see how aroused she got at the thought of her imminent smooch with Paul?”

“Yes!” said Mary. “Somehow, by the Lord’s blessing, our boy is managing to win over that darling girl.”

Jacob nodded. Then he chuckled. “I just thought of a nice gift we might consider getting him.”

“What’s that?” Mary inquired.

“Condoms,” said Jacob.

“I can think of a better gift,” said Mary.

“Oh?”

Mary smiled. “Not getting him condoms.”

Jacob thought about this for a moment. “Huh,” he said.

Upstairs, Emily entered Paul’s room. He paused his game, looked up, and grinned. “So Mom and Dad and are okay with you being topless now?”

Emily nodded, and shivered. “Yes,” she said. “From now on I’ll be wearing just my panties around the house.”

Paul laughed, and clapped his hands. “Awesome!” he said. “You ready for our goodnight kiss?”

Emily nodded. “You?”

“Yup!” said Paul. “When you went downstairs with Mom, I went and brushed my teeth.” He switched off his television and Xbox, and climbed into bed beneath the single sheet that covered it. Shuffling himself over, he turned himself so that he had his back to the wall. Then he held the bedsheet up, inviting her to climb in next to him.

Torn between trepidation and a level of excitement that she did not dare admit to herself, Emily climbed into Paul’s bed, and lay down on her back next to him. Propped up on one elbow, he smiled down at her, then he raised his right hand and placed it on her left breast. Cupping it from below, and encircling as much of it as he could with his thumb and fingers, he bent his head down and fastened his lips around her nipple.

“Paul!” she gasped. But she did not push him away. This felt ... nice. Very nice. Then she felt his hand on the front of her panties, and she closed her eyes as he began to stroke her pussy through the soft material. “Mmm...” she murmured. “You’re so naughty, Paul...”

He moved up to kiss her lips, and she opened her mouth to accept his questing tongue. As her breathing became heavier, she spread her thighs apart and began grinding her pussy against his fingers. Then she squealed as he moved his hand up, then slipped it down inside the front of her panties.

“Shhh,” he whispered, stroking her labia and sinking his middle finger between them. “Don’t want Mom and Dad to hear, do you?” Then he kissed her again, muffling her objections.

But her objections were half-hearted at best. Her vagina had been fingered by two men already today, and it was craving more of the same treatment. When Paul’s middle finger began to slide inside her, she moaned softly, and spread her thighs wider. Paul, amazed that he was getting away with this, eagerly began sliding his finger in and out of her.

Eventually she wrenched her lips away from his. “Paul!” she gasped.

“Yes Emily?” he said, probing deep inside her in a leisurely fashion. He fully expected her to tell him to stop, and he was prepared to do so. This evening’s kiss had already exceeded his expectations, if not his fantasies.

“There’s a spot ... just inside me,” she said breathlessly. “Feels really good if you rub it...”

“Here?” asked Paul, almost pulling his finger out.

“No ... bit deeper,” said Emily. “Oh, ohhh yes, that’s it. Please rub me there for a bit...”

Paul did so, smiling at the effect this had on her. He increased his tempo a little more, and Emily began arching her back and uttering staccato moans. Paul diligently kept up the pace, watching her closed eyes and blood-suffused cheeks as she drew nearer and nearer to her climax. Bending his head down, he resumed sucking on her nipple ... and he was still doing so when Emily, pulling part of Paul’s pillow across her mouth, shuddered and moaned in a powerful orgasm.

Paul stopped rubbing, but left his finger inside her. “Yay!” he said happily. “Was that your first orgasm?”

Emily opened her eyes and stared at him. “No, of course not!” she panted. “But it was very nice. Thank you.” In truth, it had not been nearly as good as the orgasm Alex had given her. Even the one Nick had given her was better. But expertise would come with practice...

“You’re welcome,” said Paul. “But now it’s my turn.” Pulling his hand out of her panties, he abruptly turned on to his back, lifted his hips up, and tugged his boxer shorts down. He was concealed by the sheet, but Emily nonetheless gasped in shock when she realised what he was doing.

“Paul!” she exclaimed. “Did you just get naked?”

He grinned. “Yup!” he said. “Wanna see my cock? It’s super hard right now.”

Emily stared back at him. If only Nathan were as eager to show her his erection! She knew she should probably make her excuses and go back to her room, but she could not help feeling curious...

“Um ... okay,” she said. “I’ll take a look.”

He pulled back the sheet, unveiling a column of skin-clad muscle with a bulbous head. Blood vessels stood out prominently, and there was a small opening at the end. Emily stared at it, mesmerised.

“What do you think?” asked Paul, taking hold of his cock in his right hand, and beginning to slide it up and down.

“It’s ... very nice,” said Emily politely.

“Do you want to touch it?” he asked.

Emily bit her lip. “I’d better not,” she said. “I haven’t even touched Nathan’s yet!”

“Why not?” Paul inquired, puzzled.

Emily shrugged. “He’s just shy about it, I guess. He won’t let me see it when it’s hard like that.” Then she added nervously, “I shouldn’t have told you that. Please don’t repeat it to anyone. Least of all Nathan!”

“Of course I won’t,” said Paul. “But look, if Nathan doesn’t want you touching his cock, that’s his business. But I think it’s only fair that, you know, after I’ve helped you get off, you do the same for me...”

Emily hesitated, her eyes fixed on Paul’s erect penis. What would Nathan think of this? He would probably encourage her to go ahead. “I ... I guess maybe I could give it a try...”

Paul smiled. He reached over, took hold of her left wrist, and guided it to his cock. She swallowed nervously as she took his shaft in her hand. “Good!” he said. “Now just pump it up and down until I cum.”

Emily started pumping, and Paul sighed happily. But after a few moments, he said, “Move your hand up a bit; it’s the head that’s the sensitive part.”

“Okay,” said Emily.

“Ah yes, that’s better...” Paul smiled beatifically, and closed his eyes. “Yesss...”

But Emily’s arm was getting tired. “Can we swap sides?” she suggested. “I’ll be better at this with my right hand.”

“Sure!” said Paul. He climbed over her as she slid to her right, beneath him, and then they settled down again, with Emily now sandwiched between Paul and the wall. She turned on her side, took hold of his cock with her right hand, and resumed pumping it.

“Ohhh...” murmured Paul. “Yes ... that’s it, keep going like that...”

Emily continued, encouraged by the sounds of Paul’s escalating breaths. Less than two minutes later, he gasped, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!”

Emily kept pumping, her eyes bulging as she watched a spurt of white fluid erupt from the hole at the end of Paul’s cock. This was followed by several more spurts, each of which shot halfway up his belly before landing in a growing gooey puddle. When the stuff had finished coming out, Emily stopped pumping.

“Ahhhh!” Paul sighed. “Thanks Emily!”

“That’s the stuff that makes babies?” Emily inquired, fascinated by the off-white goo.

“Yup,” said Paul. “Well, it’s half of it. The other half is inside you.”

“The egg,” said Emily, nodding.

Paul dipped his finger into the puddle of semen, and then reached for her panties with a mischievous grin. “Shall I just put this finger inside you then...?”

“Don’t you dare!” said Emily firmly. “I know you’re kidding, but it’s not funny. Only Nathan’s stuff belongs in there – and only when he and I are married!”

Paul chuckled, and nodded. Reaching for a Kleenex, he mopped up his semen, then tossed the soggy tissue into the bin beside his bed. Then he switched off his bedside light.

“Um ... Paul?” said Emily in the darkness.

“Yes?” he replied.

“Paul, I need to go back to my room. Can you switch the light back on, please?”

“Awww ... I hoped we could cuddle for a bit,” said Paul. “Maybe even fall asleep together.”

Emily shuddered. “Paul, I’m fond of you,” she said, “but you’re not my boyfriend, and I’m getting a bit freaked out by how intimate we’ve been getting. We’ve only been doing all this stuff because Nathan’s been very tolerant and generous about it. Do you really want to upset him and make him tell me I can’t give you any more goodnight kisses?”

“No, of course not!” said Paul. “I didn’t think a little cuddle would be off limits, given what else we’ve done. But if you feel like you have to leave, then go ahead.”

He sounded a little hurt. Emily sighed. “All right, just a quick cuddle,” she said. “But then I have to leave. We’re running at six o’clock tomorrow morning, right?”

“Yup,” said Paul. “I set my alarm for five forty-five.” He put his arm over her belly, and snuggled up against her, his softening cock pressing against her hip. Then he slid his left hand inside the front of her panties.

“Paul!” said Emily in exasperation, clutching his wrist.

“I’m not going to do anything!” he assured her. “I’ll just keep my hand like this.” He cupped her pussy with his fingers, but kept them still.

Emily reluctantly let go of his wrist. “All right,” she said. “But if you start rubbing me, I’m leaving.”

“Understood,” he said.

But five minutes later, she felt him begin to subtly stroke her labia and clitoris. She rolled her eyes, but said nothing at first. When his middle finger pressed between her labia and began to slide down towards her vagina, however, she clasped her hand between her legs, trapping his hand. “That’s it, I’m leaving,” she whispered.

“Sorry!” he replied, pulling his hand out of her panties. “I just couldn’t help it!” He reached for his bedside light, and switched it on.

Emily climbed over him, and stepped down on to the floor. Bending over, she kissed Paul on the lips. “Goodnight Paul,” she said. “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Emily,” he replied. “I ... I love you.”

Emily’s stomach knotted. She had been afraid of this; given everything that they had done together, it had seemed inevitable. But she could not reciprocate. “I love you too,” she said, “as a good friend. That’s all I can give you, Paul.”

Paul nodded, and smiled. “It’s more than I deserve, or could have hoped for,” he said.

Emily smiled. “You deserve plenty,” she said to him gently. “It’s just that I belong to someone else.”

She returned to her room and knelt down beside her bed, feeling rather guilty as she said her prayers. Despite her recent orgasm, she was feeling horny again, and she could feel that her bowels were already very full as she climbed into bed in nothing but her panties. She almost wanted to poop in them right here and now ... but there were a few reasons why that would not be a good idea. Firstly, Jacob and Mary would probably be getting ready for bed soon ... and she did not want them wondering why she was taking so long in the bathroom. And then, the smell, when she finally came out. She was not ready to face any awkward questions. She needed to poop at a time and in a place where she was not under pressure to clean up quickly and with a minimal impact on air quality.

Secondly, it would not be as much fun before her bowels were completely full. She would be able to produce a bigger load tomorrow morning, and that alone was sufficient justification for waiting.

She must, however, poop before going to her new job. It would be awful if she were to have an accident in front of her new boss or colleagues...

DAY 7 – MONDAY

She awoke to the sound of her alarm. It was half past five. Getting out of bed, she paused as she remembered she was wearing only her panties. To think she was expected to go to breakfast like this! It was crazy ... but at the same time, rather exciting.

Yesterday’s adventures now came flooding back, and she shivered at the memories of three different men finger-fucking her to orgasm. What was happening to her? How was she allowing herself to fall into these situations that were so out of character ... so bizarre ... so crazy ... so erotic ... so exciting...

Even thinking about it all was getting her horny again. She left her bedroom, hurried to the bathroom, and peed. Her bowels were groaning with the need to release their contents, but she clenched her anus tightly shut. Not yet...

She flushed, washed her hands, and brushed her teeth. Back in her room, she braided her hair, and put on her sports bra. But as she regarded the running briefs that Paul had bought for her, she frowned in uncertainty. Were they supposed to be worn with or without panties?

After examining them, she quickly concluded that the answer was ‘without’. The inner lining seemed designed to take the place of underwear. She took off her white panties, put on the running briefs, and then checked herself out in front of the mirror. The briefs covered a little more of her bottom than her panties did, and the waistband was a little higher. Other than that, they did look remarkably like a pair of panties, and the thought of running outside like this gave her goosebumps.

She put on her sneakers, then went downstairs. In the living room, she performed a few stretches while she waited for Paul to appear. Her outfit felt comfortable enough; how it would feel while she was running remained to be seen.

A series of quiet thuds on the stairs heralded Paul’s arrival. He turned the corner, stopped at the sight of Emily, and grinned. “You look fantastic!” he said. “Very professional.”

“Thanks,” said Emily, blushing. “You look good too.”

Paul snorted. “There’s no comparison,” he said. He was wearing a t-shirt, a pair of gym shorts, and his sneakers. “Come on, let’s go. And may the best man ... not die of a heart attack on the way.”

Emily chuckled. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Just make sure you do a bit of stretching first.”

“Uh ... okay,” said Paul, and he went through a few brief leg stretches before announcing he was done.

They left the house, and walked to the start of the trail. Paul had his phone in his hand, and he was showing Emily the app he had discovered. It was called RunTime, and it used GPS to track the runner’s position, and hence their distance and speed over the course of a run.

“Very cool!” said Emily. “I’ll download it to my phone later. For now I guess it doesn’t matter if we just use your phone; I assume we’ll be sticking together.”

“Yup,” agreed Paul.

“Shall we start with just one mile?” Emily suggested. “Nice gentle pace?”

Paul nodded, and looked ahead along the trail. “Ready?” he asked, his finger hovering above the ‘Start Run’ button.

“Yes,” said Emily.

“Go!” said Paul, and he began jogging down the trail.

Emily followed after him, easily keeping up with her running partner, but a little sceptical as to whether he would be able to maintain the pace he had set. A mile at this speed was doable for her, even in her current unfit state, though she would certainly feel it tomorrow. But Paul, unused to running and in far worse condition than she was, would be a wreck if he kept this up.

Her sports bra, she was pleased to discover, was keeping her breasts under reasonable control. Sure, they were bouncing around, and if she were back in Oakwood she would be mortified about how embarrassingly attention-grabbing they were being ... but the past week had given her a new and very different perspective. She had become, in fact, somewhat proud of her breasts, and the fact that they were currently drawing attention to themselves no longer seemed like such a terrible thing. As they passed a middle-aged man who was out walking his dog, and he stared in astonishment at her bouncing chest before giving her a friendly if slightly embarrassed smile, she almost giggled in delight.

They had so far run barely two hundred yards, and already Paul was starting to slow down. By a quarter of a mile, he was practically gasping for breath. “See?” he panted. “I’m no good at this.”

“You started way too fast,” Emily replied. “Slow down, but try to keep running.”

Paul struggled along for another hundred yards or so, but then he slowed to a walk. “Sorry!” he gasped. “Just can’t ... do this.” He hit the ‘End Run’ button on his app. “Ugh – not even half a mile.”

“Well it’s only the first day,” said Emily. “Tomorrow we’ll start slower, and you’ll find it a lot easier to keep going longer.”

He looked up at her, sweat beading on his forehead. “How are you not even out of breath?”

Emily chuckled. “I’m a little more accustomed to physical activity than you are,” she said. “Even so, I’m in pretty poor shape right now. I used to run half-marathons, you know. Of course that was four years ago...” She sighed. “But you know what? I’ll run a half-marathon again. And so will you. We just have to work up to it; in very small increments. Tomorrow we’ll run half a mile. Wednesday, three quarters. Thursday, a mile. Friday...”

“You want to do this every day?” asked Paul plaintively.

“Sure, why not?” she replied. Then she added teasingly, “Don’t you like seeing me in this outfit?”

“I do!” he said. “But, in all fairness, I get to see you in less than that at home.”

“True,” Emily conceded ruefully. Then she stiffened, as her bowels began to move, and a thick turd began pressing against the inside of her anus. She clenched her buttocks hard, forcing her poo to retreat.

“You okay?” asked Paul.

Emily nodded. “All right, shall we head back?”

Paul looked at his phone. “I have a button here that says ‘Resume Run’. Maybe we can try to finish the half-mile?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “Are you feeling up to it?”

“I just feel like I have to,” said Paul. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it.”

Emily nodded. “All right then! Ready?”

“Yup. Go!” Paul hit the button, and began lumbering along the trail, back the way they had come. Emily trotted alongside him, offering words of encouragement.

But Paul was soon flagging again. He checked his phone, grimaced, and determinedly plodded onward, puffing hard. Eventually he stopped, and hit the ‘End Run’ button again. “Made it!” he gasped. “But that sucked.”

“Well done!” said Emily. “It’ll get better, I promise.”

They walked back to the trailhead, where Paul paused to catch his breath. Looking Emily up and down, he panted, “That really is a sexy outfit, Emily. Does it feel like you’re wearing panties outdoors?”

“A bit,” said Emily. “Although ... I don’t know ... it’s more like if I was in a bikini. I know they’re meant to be worn outdoors, so it’s not as scary as if I was wearing actual panties. Actually it’s not even as scary as wearing a bikini would be, because they’re designed for running.”

Paul grinned. “So maybe next time you could try wearing just regular panties instead.”

Emily shuddered. “Don’t be silly Paul – I’m not going running in just a sports bra and panties.”

“Of course not!” said Paul, feigning shock. “You’d be wearing shoes too.”

“No!” said Emily firmly. “Showing off my panties around the house is one thing – I know everyone’s fine with it. But I’m not going out on the street like that.”

Paul nodded. “Okay, fair enough, it was just a thought.”

As they walked home, a car passed them by, honking its horn. “Oh, that made me jump!” said Emily. “Why did he do that?”

“Are you kidding?” asked Paul in amusement. “It’s your outfit of course. He was expressing his appreciation.”

“Oh!” said Emily, blushing. “I should have waved.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Paul warned her. “Some of them might be nice enough, but you never know. You might be waving to some psychopath who then gets it into his head that you’re easy prey.”

“Yeesh!” said Emily, wide-eyed. “I hope not! Surely that’s not likely, is it...?”

Paul shrugged. “I don’t know. I just think it’s probably best to be a bit careful.”

Emily smiled at him. “Thank you for the advice,” she said. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

As they passed Harry’s house, Emily spotted the old man with an envelope in his hand, heading toward his mailbox. “Hello Harry!” she said.

“Ah, Emily!” he replied, turning and smiling at her. “And Paul! Good morning to you both. My goodness ... what an outfit, Emily! Have you two been to the gym?”

“No, we were out running!” she said. “I’m determined to get Paul fit ... as well as myself.”

“Good for you,” said Harry. “Oh ... while I think of it ... I have something to show you, inside. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure!” said Emily. She turned to Paul. “I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”

“Uh, okay,” said Paul, looking a little taken aback. “Uh ... what’s he going to show you?”

“No idea!” said Emily. “I guess I’ll find out in a minute.”

“All right. Well ... see you in a bit then.” With a slightly resentful glance at Harry, he continued on toward his own house, while Emily walked up to Harry.

“Come on in,” said Harry with a grin.

Emily followed him inside, where he led her into the living room. “What did you want to show me?” she asked.

He sat down in his armchair, his veiny and skinny legs sticking out of a pair of khaki shorts. “I thought you might be needing to poop,” he said. “If I’m wrong, I humbly apologise.”

Emily blushed, and bit her lip. “You’re not wrong,” she said. “You want me to ... right now?”

“I’d love to see it,” he said, “but if you’d rather have privacy, feel free to use my back yard, or the bathroom, or wherever you like.”

Emily swallowed nervously. “I guess ... if you really want me to ... I can do it in front of you...”

“Wonderful!” said Harry happily. “Okay, then just stand in front of me, and, well, let it all out...”

Emily moved to stand in front of his knees, and turned her back on him. “Is here good?”

“Actually would you mind coming a little closer?” he asked. “If you straddle my knees, and squat a bit, you can rest your hands on the arms of my chair.”

Emily complied, bringing her bottom to within six inches of his torso. “If anything spills, you’re going to get messy,” she warned him.

“That’s okay, it’ll be worth it,” he replied.

“All right ... I’m starting now...” Emily pursed her lips, and strained ... but she did not have to strain hard. Her anus rapidly expanded around an emerging column of poo, which slid out into her running briefs and formed a bulge that grew quite quickly over the next ten seconds or so. She paused, took a couple of breaths, then pushed again, smoothly expelling the entire contents of her colon into the flimsy garment.

“Wow...” Harry stared at the huge bulge. “I think it’s your biggest one yet!”

Emily blushed. Then she gasped as she felt her poo squishing against her bottom and oozing forward beneath her pussy. “Harry...”

“Do you mind?” he asked anxiously. “Do you want me to stop?”

She hesitated. “No,” she admitted. “If you don’t mind getting your hand messy, I’m happy for you to continue.”

Harry resumed smushing her poo against her buttocks, sliding it over her anus, spreading it and squelching it, working more and more of the foul stuff forward into the front of her briefs, and then slipping his hand between her spread thighs to cup her pussy, squishing her poo against her vulva and then smearing it around.

“Oh gosh!” Emily gasped. “Harry, that’s very naughty...”

“I’m not the one who pooped in her panties ... or whatever this thing is,” said Harry. “You’re a very naughty girl, Emily. You deserve a good spanking.”

Emily’s cheeks turned crimson. “Are ... are you going to spank me, Harry?” Then she moaned, revelling in the sensation of her poo squishing and oozing between her labia, caressing her clitoris.

“Not while your undies are full of poop,” said Harry. “Later, perhaps.”

“Ohhhh ... ohhhh ... Harry...” Emily whispered. “You must be getting so messy...”

“I don’t care,” muttered Harry. “In fact why don’t you sit on my lap? Lean back against me.” Putting his arm around her, he placed his palm on her bare belly, and gently pulled her backward while removing his hand from between her legs.

“Harry!” Emily gasped, as she sat down on him, her poo squishing hard against her buttocks. She leaned back, her head coming to rest on his left shoulder, while he reached down in front of her with his right hand, slipping it beneath the waistband of her running briefs. As his fingers sank into her poo and curled around her pussy, Emily squealed.

Harry instinctively wanted to ask her if this was okay, if she minded, if he should take his hand out ... but he was afraid that in doing so he would kill the mood. So he began to rub poo into Emily’s labia and clitoris, hoping that if she did not like it, she would tell him immediately.

Apparently she did like it though. “Ohhh yesss!” she moaned.

His hand getting thoroughly covered in poo, Harry slid his elderly middle finger between her labia, thrusting it up and down the groove, stroking against her clitoris and sliding all the way down to her vagina. “Lift your knees up,” he muttered.

Leaning against him as she was, Emily’s torso was sufficiently reclined that she could lift her feet off the floor without toppling forward. She spread her thighs as she drew her knees up and rested them on the arms of the chair. Harry now excitedly slid his poo-covered finger into her vagina, sinking it deep, and Emily moaned with pleasure. “Ohhhh...”

Harry introduced a second poo-lubed finger, and started thrusting both in and out of her vigorously. “You like this huh?” he asked in a low voice.

Emily responded only with passionate moans.

“You like disgusting things, don’t you?” he asked, turning his head so that his mouth was close to her ear. “You like pooping in your panties. You like having an old man’s shitty fingers inside you. How would you like an old man’s tongue in your mouth?”

Emily, her eyes closed, turned her face toward him slightly, and this was all the permission Harry needed. He pressed his lips to hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She sucked on it, swirled her own tongue around it, swallowed his saliva, revelling in the grossness, the disgustingness, the messiness, the old fingers inside her, the poo inside her, the taste of the 78-year-old old tongue in her mouth ... the experience was so intense it was blowing her mind. And he knew how to stroke her g-spot ... ohhhhhhh...

Harry pulled her sports bra up with his clean left hand, exposing her gorgeous plump breasts, which he then eagerly squeezed and caressed, one after the other, with his gnarled and arthritic fingers. He pinched her left nipple, and was rewarded with a muffled moan. Saliva ran down his tongue into her mouth. His thrusting poo-slathered fingers pounded faster and faster into her vagina.

Overwhelmed with the depravity of it all, Emily suddenly bucked and shuddered and practically screamed her orgasm into Harry’s mouth. Yet he did not let up, and even increased the pace of his thrusting, trying to prolong her climax for as long as possible. Only a little over a minute later, with his arm strength giving out, did he relax. After a minute more of very gently sliding his fingers in and out of her, he slowly withdrew them, but only pulled his hand back until he was cupping her pussy once again. As she gradually recovered her breath and opened her eyes, he continued to sensuously stroke her vulva.

“Oh my goodness!” Emily panted. “Thank you Harry, that was amazing ... but oh! I feel like such a bad girl!”

“Don’t feel bad,” he said softly, carefully removing his hand from her running briefs. “You should...”

“Ugh!” said Emily, aghast. “Oh my gosh. You’re so messy! I’m sorry!”

Harry chuckled. “It was entirely my choice,” he said. “I’ll clean up quickly enough. “You, though, should probably hop in the shower right away.”

“Thank you, I will,” said Emily. Suddenly feeling shy and awkward, she carefully got up from his lap, and pulled her sports bra down over her breasts. Then she looked back at his lap. “Oh, your shorts!”

“I’ll clean myself up upstairs,” he assured her. “Don’t you worry about me. Just get yourself showered, and clean yourself out as best you can. I’m worried about you getting an infection.”

“Me too,” Emily admitted. “I’ve had a couple in the past. But honestly, I’ve been pooping in my panties for so long, and sitting in it ... it’s possible I’ve built up a certain resistance to that kind of infection. Still, obviously I’ll clean myself out thoroughly.”

Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Emily walked gingerly to his downstairs bathroom, stripped off her clothes, and dumped as much poo as she could out of her running briefs and into the toilet. Removing the worst of the mess from both herself and the briefs with paper, she flushed, then took the briefs with her into the shower. Under the warm water, she cleaned the garment with soap, rinsed it out, wrung out the excess water, and hung it up on the shower rail. Then she attended to herself. Sticking two fingers inside herself, she scooped out all the mess she could find, rinsing her hand off and then going back for more, until her fingers came out clean several times in a row. Even then, not satisfied that her vagina was necessarily completely clean, having scrubbed her pussy with liquid soap, she stuck two soapy fingers inside.

This was a mistake. “Ahh!” she gasped, panicking as a burning sensation wracked her vagina. She hastily rinsed off her fingers and then rapidly thrust them in and out, along with water from her cupped palm, in order to flush the soap out. Slowly, the burning subsided.

‘Note to self,’ she thought. ‘Never ever try that again!’

After her shower, she dried her running briefs as well as she could with a towel, until they were merely damp. Then she dried herself, got dressed, and returned to the living room. Harry was there, now wearing jeans.

“All clean?” he inquired.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He sighed. “Emily, I feel terrible about what I just did to you. I’m so sorry. I took advantage...”

“Don’t be silly!” Emily retorted. “Who got their hand covered in whose poop? Whose fetish were we indulging? I knew what I was doing, Harry.”

“But ... I kissed you!” said Harry mournfully. “You didn’t ask for that.”

Emily smiled shyly. “I kind of liked the kiss,” she confessed. “It fit the moment. And frankly, Nathan would be thrilled if he knew about it.” Her face fell a little. “I ... I don’t think I can tell him, though. I just daren’t tell him about the poop thing; I’m scared I’d lose him.”

“Are you serious?” said Harry, looking stunned. “Your fiancé would be thrilled about us kissing?”

Emily nodded. “He knows I kiss Paul,” she said. “He even encourages it. He doesn’t see Paul as a threat, you see ... and I’m certain he wouldn’t see you as a threat either. I don’t mean any offence...”

“None taken!” said Harry. “But wow – quite an understanding fiancé you have there! Sounds like he might have a bit of a fetish too...”

Emily chuckled, and nodded. “It seems so, yes.”

Harry shook his head in bemusement. Then a hopeful look came over his face. “Then ... maybe ... I could kiss you again sometime, perhaps...?”

“Sure,” said Emily warmly. She walked over to him, and put her arms around his neck. “How about now?”

He kissed her, and their tongues swirled around each other for a few seconds. Then Emily pulled away. “I guess our relationship has changed quite a bit, Harry,” she said. “But I don’t regret it. You gave me a lovely time just now. Is it okay if I come back for more tomorrow...?”

“Of course!” he said fervently. “Any time you want.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “But now I’d better get back.”

Harry nodded. Then “Oh!” he said. “Take a look at this.” He picked up a photo album. “My family. Parents, sisters, wife, son, daughter, grandchildren, nieces and nephews.” He flipped through the album far too quickly for Emily to get a good look at any of the photos. “There you go.”

Emily stared at him.

“For when the Davises ask you what you were doing over here,” he explained. “You can tell them I showed you my big old family photo album. There are six hundred photos in here!”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Perfect – thank you!” Now she would not have to tell any lies. “Sometime though I’d love to look at it properly.”

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “I’ll look forward to that.”

Leaving his house, she returned to the Davises’, where she hurried past the kitchen and climbed the stairs. In her bedroom, she stripped off her shoes, her damp running briefs, and her sports bra, and put her white panties back on. Then she went back downstairs and entered the kitchen, where Jacob and Mary and Paul were having breakfast. “Sorry I’m late!” she said. “Harry wanted to show me his family photo album.”

“Not a problem, dear,” said Mary, wresting her eyes away from Emily’s breasts. “You don’t have to stick to our breakfast schedule. We assumed you’d want a shower anyway, after you got back.”

“Oh!” said Emily, suddenly flustered. “Well, honestly, I didn’t break much of a sweat...”

Jacob burst out laughing. “Not much of a challenge to keep up with Paul, huh?” he said.

“Oh, be nice,” said Mary, as Paul glared at his father.

“It’s not where you start that matters,” said Emily. “It’s where you end up. And I’m going to keep running with Paul until we’re both as fit as fiddles!”

Paul smiled at this, as did Mary. “Thank you dear,” she said. “It sounds like Paul’s found himself a wonderful and supportive fitness partner.”

Jacob nodded in approval. “Hats off to you both. Maybe you’ll inspire Mary and me to get fit too!”

“Stranger things have happened!” said Mary, but she did not look very keen on the idea.

“Your boobs look lovely today, Emily,” said Paul.

Emily stared at him for a moment, then she burst into a fit of giggling. Jacob and Mary started laughing too, and then Paul, after momentarily looking a little huffy, reluctantly began to chuckle.

After breakfast, Emily went up to her room and put on her work outfit: her black and white and grey plaid skirt, and the short-sleeved teal top that she had bought on her first visit to Sasha’s thrift store. She then put on her nicest flat shoes, and trotted back downstairs.

“How do I look?” she asked Mary in the kitchen.

“Like someone who belongs in an office!” said Mary, smiling. “I’m sure your boss will be very happy with this outfit.”

“He’ll probably still send me to Walker’s,” said Emily gloomily. “But at least I’ll make a good first impression. Anyway I’d better leave; it’s twice as far as the walk to Cathcart, and I don’t want to be sweaty when I get there.”

“Oh don’t be silly – I’ll drive you!” said Mary.

“Really?” said Emily gratefully. “Thank you – I didn’t want to assume.”

“No trouble at all!” said Mary. “And here – I made you a little packed lunch to take with you. There’s a sandwich, and an apple, and Nutrigrain bar.”

“Thank you!” said Emily appreciatively. “That’s so kind of you!”

“Don’t mention it,” said Mary with a smile.

Ten minutes later, Emily climbed into the passenger seat of Mary’s car, and less than five minutes after that, they were pulling up outside the grey concrete building that housed Innesco. “Thanks Mary!” said Emily.

“Shall I pick you up at three?” Mary asked.

“Um ... no thank you,” said Emily. “I think I’ll go and see Nathan after work.”

“I can drive you there!” said Mary. “I don’t mind at all.”

“In that case, yes please!” Emily smiled, then she got out of the car.

“Good luck!” said Mary. “I hope you have a good first day!”

“Me too!” Emily replied.

As Mary drove away, Emily called Blake.

“Ah, Emily,” he said when he answered. “You’re outside?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I’ll be right down.”

A minute later, he appeared at the front door. “Here,” he said, handing her a white plastic card. “That will let you into the building. Just hold it up against that sensor, and the door will unlock.” He looked her up and down. “Nice outfit, but Anthony at Walker’s is waiting for you. Head over there now; I’ll see you later, in your new uniform.”

“Um ... okay,” said Emily, a little taken aback. “Right. See you later then.”

Blake nodded, then disappeared back into the building. Emily wished she had asked Mary to wait a few moments; she did not want to call her and ask her to come back. She would just have to walk. Fortunately it was not too far from here – or at least she did not think it was. She pulled up directions on her phone, and nodded to herself in satisfaction: it was only about three minutes away. Idly, she noticed that Innesco, Cathcart and Walker’s formed an approximately equilateral triangle.

Arriving at Walker’s, she entered, and headed towards the back of the store. As usual, it seemed deserted. “Anthony?” she called out.

“Be right with you!” came the reply.

Emily set her bag down, and waited. Then she smiled, a little warily, as Anthony appeared from behind and approached her with a broad grin. “Emily! How nice to see you again!” He was carrying a hanger with a cream-coloured blouse, and a very small sky-blue skirt.

“Hello Anthony,” said Emily.

“Just strip down to your panties,” said Anthony, “and let’s see how this looks on you.”

Emily shivered. She was, by now, getting quite used to the men of her acquaintance seeing her breasts and panties, but there was something about Anthony that gave her the creeps. She hesitated only for a moment though, before unzipping and pulling down her skirt. She stepped out of it, then she hoisted her top up and over her head, holding the neck wide open so as not to mess up her hair.

Anthony’s eyes flashed as he grinned at her breasts. “Lovely,” he said, as she set her top down. “I’m pleased to see you without a bra. Much more natural, much more comfortable, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I guess so,” said Emily uncomfortably, covering her breasts with her hands.

“Let’s try the skirt first, shall we?” He handed her the skirt, which weighed surprisingly little; the material was very thin. She stepped into it, then pulled it up. “Gosh, this is short!” she gasped. She zipped it up, noting that it fit around her very snugly, then felt the hemline at the back. “I can feel my butt!”

“Hmm, let’s see,” said Anthony. “Turn around please.” Then he squatted down, so his eyes were at the level of her bottom. “Oh dear!” he said. “Terrible panty-line there. And yes, it’s too short, by about an inch and a half! How annoying. But very fetching, I must say. It’ll certainly earn you some fans at the office!”

“I can’t go to a new job in an office with my bottom showing!” said Emily desperately, terrified that he was going to tell her that this was her only option.

“Hmm, well I guess that’s fair enough,” said Anthony. “I tried to adhere to Blake’s request, but without you being here, I had to do a little guesswork. Guess I trimmed too much off.”

“You made this yourself?” Emily inquired in surprise.

“Yes indeed!” said Anthony. “But don’t worry, I did make two, and the other one is a little longer. Shall I fetch it for you?”

“Yes please!” said Emily. She hoped that he would give her the blouse so that she could cover her upper half, but he walked away with it still in his hand. With her arms folded, Emily waited uneasily for him to return.

“Well hello there!” said a voice behind her.

Emily squealed, and covered her breasts with her hands as she turned around. She found herself face to face with a very tall man in his forties, with shiny, jet-black hair and a slightly wonky nose that had probably been broken at some point in his life. He was broad as well as tall, and he wore a suit and tie. His voice was softer and higher in pitch than his large frame would have suggested, but he was nonetheless an intimidating presence as he drew near and loomed over her.

“Um, hi!” she said anxiously.

“Are you okay?” said the man. “Wouldn’t you rather be in a changing room?”

“Well, yes...” Emily began, but at that moment Anthony returned.

“Don’t worry Avery, I got this,” he said briskly. “It’s just easier and less cramped out here, and I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Anyone could walk in though, Anthony!” said Avery in disbelief.

“I meant to lock the door,” said Anthony. “Anyway I’m almost done with Emily. This is my boss, Avery, by the way Emily. Now, take off that skirt, and try this one on instead.”

Of course, Emily could not remove her skirt without uncovering her breasts, but she could at least turn her back on Avery. Turning to face Anthony, she unzipped and took off her skirt, only to see Avery walking around her to stand next to his subordinate. Both men stared at her breasts as she took the second skirt from Anthony and hastily stepped into it. Pulling it up, she zipped it, and then felt the back of the skirt. Again she could feel her buttocks, but this time could not tell if they were visible or not.

“Um,” she said, covering her breasts again, “is my butt showing...?” She turned her back on the two men.

Anthony knelt down, and said, “Nope! Not unless I duck my head below the level of the skirt. It’s pretty much exactly butt-length.”

“Good grief!” said Avery.

Emily gulped. This was better than the other skirt, but still, it was the shortest hemline she had ever worn. And she was supposed to wear it to her new job! What if she had to bend over for any reason? Her panties...

“Of course, those panties are no good with it,” said Anthony. “With the skirt being so thin, the panty-line is very obvious. I don’t suppose you happen to have a thong...?”

Emily turned around, blushing. “I do,” she said anxiously, “but it’s at home!”

“Well Blake isn’t going to like the panty-line,” said Anthony. “I’m just giving you a heads-up. I promised him I would send him a photo of you in your uniform, so he could vet it before I sent you back to work. He’s unlikely to approve it if he can see a panty-line.”

“Oh dear!” said Emily. “I daren’t go home before going to work – it’ll take too long.”

“What if you went commando...?” Avery suggested. “At least for the photo? Then maybe you can stop at a clothes store on your way back to work.”

“That’s a good plan,” said Anthony. “Don’t you think, Emily?”

Emily gulped. She had not spotted any clothes shops on her way here from Innesco ... but then she had not been keeping an eye out for one. “I guess so...”

“Great!” said Anthony. “Then why don’t you slip off those panties, and we’ll see how the skirt looks without them.”

“But it’s so short!” said Emily nervously. “I’m just not sure ... logistically...” She knew she would have to uncover her breasts in order to get her panties off – and that was bad enough – but she very much wanted to keep her pussy hidden, and she was not sure how best to do that.

Anthony seemed to guess her mind. “Here, I’ll help you,” he said, walking forward on his knees. To Emily’s embarrassment, he reached up beneath her skirt, took hold of the sides of her panties, and began pulling them down. “There,” he said, tugging them all the way to her ankles. “Just step out, and there you go.”

Feeling mortified, and keeping her thighs pressed tightly together, Emily gingerly extracted both of her shoes from her fallen panties. Anthony picked them up, and dropped them into Emily’s bag. “Now turn around,” he said.

Emily did so. “Oh yes, that’s much better,” said Avery approvingly.

“Yes indeed,” Anthony agreed. “All right, let’s try the top now.” Standing up, he took the blouse off its hanger, and handed it to Emily, who was by now more than ready to no longer be topless. She could not help revealing her breasts once again, however, as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. Her first impression of the garment was that it was rather small, rather tight, and rather sheer.

She pulled it closed at the front ... or as closed as she could get it. But it was simply too small; the two sides refused to meet in the middle. Then she noticed that there were no buttons or buttonholes anyway; just a single pair of strings about halfway down, which presumably she was supposed to tie together.

“This ... this is ridiculous!” she gasped. “I can’t wear this!”

“Tie it up!” Anthony encouraged her. “Don’t judge it before the look is complete.”

By tying the strings into a tight bow, Emily managed to turn the eight-inch gap between the two sides into a four-inch gap, at least at the point where the strings were. But Anthony tutted and shook his head. “Too tight,” he said. “It’s straining the fabric and squishing your breasts – it doesn’t look good. You’ll need to tie it less tightly.”

Emily grimaced, but did as he had instructed. Now a full six inches separated the two sides at the point where the strings were. Above and below the bow, the gap grew gradually wider.

“There,” said Anthony, looking pleased. “That looks great!”

“It’s too much!” said Emily, distressed. She looked down at her chest. “It’s see-through – I can see my nipples!”

“Well Blake’s mandate was pretty clear,” said Anthony. “He wanted something that would show off your boobs.”

“A lot of tops would do that!” Emily exclaimed. “Don’t you have something else? Something more like what I wore at Cathcart?”

Anthony looked a little disgruntled. “I spent a lot of time on that this weekend,” he grumbled. “But fine, give me that one back, and I’ll see what else I have.”

Emily untied the bow, and took off the blouse, then handed it to him while covering her breasts with her left arm.

Avery was looking troubled. “Anthony,” he said, “what exactly were Blake’s instructions regarding Emily’s skirt? Did it have to be so short?”

Anthony stared at him in annoyance. “He said it needed to be shorter than her coffee shop skirt.”

“But he didn’t say how much shorter?” asked Emily hopefully.

“No,” Anthony confessed, “he just said it had to be ‘super sexy’.”

“Then for heaven’s sake, Anthony,” said Avery, “find her an alternative skirt – one that gives her a bit of buffer between her ass and her hem. You can’t expect her to go commando in a skirt that short; she’s obviously not happy about it.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully.

“Fine, I’ll see what I can find,” muttered Anthony irritably, and he marched away.

“Good thing I stopped by, huh?” said Avery.

“Yes!” said Emily fervently. “Thank you so much.”

“Well, I just came to pick up some files,” said Avery. “Got an important conference to get to! Nice meeting you, Emily.”

“Nice meeting you too!” said Emily.

Avery headed for the back of the store, and Emily fidgeted, wondering if she should put her top back on. But then Anthony reappeared, carrying a cherry red miniskirt. “This one’s probably going to show panty-line too, so you might as well leave your panties off.” He then stood waiting expectantly, skirt in hand, and Emily’s cheeks reddened as she realised he expected her to take the blue skirt off in front of him. “Um,” she said, feeling flustered, “maybe I could change skirts in the changing room...?”

“No need to be shy,” said Anthony with a tight smile. “You wanted a longer skirt; well here it is.“

“But I’m not wearing panties!” said Emily anxiously.

“So?” said Anthony. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, trust me.”

Her stomach cramping horribly, Emily unzipped and pulled down the blue skirt. As she stepped out of it, now naked but for her shoes, she was acutely aware of Anthony’s lecherous eyes on her. He was not even trying to hide his enjoyment. “Very nice,” he said, nodding and licking his lips. “Fully shaved! I wasn’t expecting that, I must say.” His gaze lingered for a moment, then he handed her the red skirt.

Emily hurriedly stepped into it and pulled it up. But it barely fit over her hips. “Ugh – too tight!” she said.

“Oops,” said Anthony with a smirk. “Give it here, and I’ll fetch the next size up.”

Emily pulled it down, stepped out of it, and handed it to Anthony.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, giving her pussy another hungry look.

Emily, naked but for her shoes, stood uncomfortably with her hands clasped over her pussy. She considered putting the blue skirt back on, but then Anthony might think she had decided to wear that one to work after all.

Avery reappeared, carrying three manila folders. He stopped and stared at her in surprise. “Good grief – you’re naked now?”

Emily felt as if she was dying inside. “The skirt didn’t fit!” she said plaintively. “Anthony’s getting a bigger one.”

Avery rolled his eyes. “Well listen, Emily,” he said. “I have to go now, but I’m worried that if I leave you alone with Anthony, he’s going to talk you into leaving here in an outfit you’re not comfortable with. If that happens – if you find yourself, later today, unhappy with what you’re wearing – just give me a call, okay?” He patted his pockets. “Shoot, I don’t have a card on me. Do you have a cell?”

Emily nodded. Stepping over to her bag, she crouched and reached into it, pulling out her phone. Realising she would need two hands in order to operate it (it was too large for her to effectively operate the keyboard with one thumb), she reluctantly uncovered her pussy, then quickly opened her phone contacts. Starting a new contact, she entered the name Avery, then she looked up. “Sorry Avery, what’s your last name?”

“Goodman,” he said.

Emily typed this in, then paused, staring at the screen. She looked up suspiciously. “Seriously?”

Avery sighed. “My parents had a twisted sense of humour,” he explained. Then he grinned. “I do try to live up to it though.”

Emily smiled, despite her discomfiture. “Okay, what’s your number please?” Then she typed it in as he recited it.

“Okay!” said Avery. “Gotta run. Seriously, call me if you need anything. Good luck with your uniform.”

“Thank you!” said Emily.

Shortly after Avery had left, Anthony returned. This time he was carrying another top. “We were out of the next size up of that red skirt,” he said apologetically. “I’ll see if I can find something else. On the bright side, I found you this top.” He handed her a white blouse.

“Thank you,” said Emily, her cheeks turning very red as she uncovered her pussy yet again in order to put the blouse on. This one, at least, had buttons, and to her surprise she found she could fasten all of them. Leaving just the top two unbuttoned, she bit her lip. “I like this!” she said to Anthony. “I wish I’d had this one at Cathcart. But I fear Blake won’t be very happy with it.”

“Yeah it’s not all that sexy,” Anthony agreed. “But come over to the mirror; let’s see if we can figure out a way to make it work.”

Acutely conscious of the fact that she was naked from waist to ankle, yet keen to make this blouse work if at all possible, Emily accompanied Anthony to the mirror next to the changing room. As she stood in front of it, he positioned himself behind her, looking over her shoulder at the mirror.

“Okay,” he said, putting his arms around her, beneath her armpits, and taking hold of the topmost of the fastened buttons. “Just because you can fasten a button, doesn’t mean you have to.” He popped it open. “Hmm ... better, but still not a great deal of cleavage. Let’s try another.” He unfastened the next button, and the two sides of the blouse spread out wider, as Emily’s breasts settled and more strain was put on the next button. “Better still!”

Emily quite liked the way it looked now, but she was not sure if it would be enough for Blake. “I was showing more than this at my interview,” she said.

“Okay,” said Anthony, “well the blouse is pretty tight, so what if – instead of undoing another button, we do this...” And to Emily’s shock, he slipped his right hand inside her blouse, took hold of her left breast, and lifted it up while pulling it a little to the right.

“Anthony!” she gasped.

“Sorry,” he said, “it’s just easier to demonstrate than to explain.” And he withdrew his right hand, then reached in with his left in order to do the same with her right breast. He took a little longer with this one, grasping it firmly and gently squeezing it as he manipulated it into the desired position. Finally he pulled his hand out. “There – how’s that?”

Emily was indeed showing more cleavage now. The blouse was tight enough to hold her breasts in their new position, but she knew that they would not stay that way for long. “It looks good,” she said, “but as soon as I start moving, they’ll settle back down.”

“Huh,” said Anthony, disappointed. “Okay, let’s try another button.” He popped open the next button, leaving just two still fastened. The gap opened wider, but the V became relatively narrower, and little more of Emily’s breasts became exposed. Anthony sighed. “Nope, that’s no good. I’ll just have to try a smaller, tighter blouse.” He unfastened the last two buttons, and pulled the blouse off Emily’s shoulders. Having tugged the sleeves down off her arms, he turned and looked at her naked body in the mirror. Self-consciously, Emily clasped her hands in front of her pussy.

“You have such a nice body,” Anthony remarked. “And you’re pretty, and you seem like a nice person. I know it’s unprofessional, but I have to ask ... are you seeing someone? I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime, if not.”

Emily turned to face him, blushing to the roots of her hair. “Um, that’s flattering, Anthony,” she said, not quite meeting him in the eye, “but I have a fiancé.” She held up her left hand, showing off her engagement ring with its modest diamond.

“Ah, just my luck,” said Anthony with a sigh. “Well whoever he is, he’s a very lucky guy.” He chuckled ruefully. “I mean look at you – you’re perfect.”

“Awww, you’re too kind!” said Emily, squirming with embarrassment, but glowing nonetheless. Perfect!

“All right,” said Anthony, “I’ll just go and fetch you another blouse.”

As he walked off, Emily heard a tinny chime that made her brow furrow for a moment, until she remembered that it meant someone had just texted her. Fishing in her bag, she pulled out her phone.

It was Nathan: ‘Hi Baby! Just wanted to wish you luck in your new job. Hope it’s going well!’

She smirked, and replied: ‘I’m actually at Walker’s Workwear, trying on clothes for my new office uniform.’

His reply came quickly: ‘Oh, nice! Send me a photo?’

She giggled quietly. ‘Can’t right now – I’m naked!’

‘No way! Then TOTALLY send me a photo! I never got to see you fully naked :(‘

Emily shivered, then glanced in the direction Anthony had gone. ‘I’ll try.’ Opening up her camera app, she walked quickly over to the mirror, held up her phone, smiled, and pressed the button. Then she looked at her phone to see the photo she had taken.

It was a disaster. The flash had gone off, and its reflection in the mirror not only dominated the picture, but also obscured half of her torso with pale patches and streaks. She was still trying to work out how to run the flash off when Anthony returned.

“Taking a photo of yourself?” he asked cheerfully. “I don’t blame you.”

Emily blushed, and covered her pussy with her free left hand. “I was trying to take one for my fiancé,” she said. “I mentioned I was naked here, and of course he wanted to see! But I’m not very good at taking photos yet, I guess.”

Anthony shrugged. “Well I can take a photo of you if you like,” he offered.

Emily bit her lip. “I feel like we should sort my uniform out so I can get to work,” she said awkwardly.

“Oh, it’ll only take a moment!” Anthony assured her. He put down the blouse he had been carrying. “Here, give me your phone and I’ll take a nice photo you can send to your fiancé. Then you can try on this blouse.”

“Um, okay...” Emily handed him her phone. “Uh, where...”

“Just pose next to the wall there,” said Anthony, pointing.

Emily walked over to the wall, and smiled sheepishly at Anthony.

“Okay, couple of things,” said Anthony. “Let’s lose the shoes, first of all. You told your fiancé you were naked, so that’s what he’ll be expecting. Don’t want to disappoint him, right?”

Emily was not convinced that Nathan would care about her shoes, as long as he could see her pussy, but she kicked them off anyway; it hardly made much difference to her. Tossing them a short distance away, so they would not be in the shot, she stood against the wall again.

“Great!” said Anthony. “You’ll need to uncover your pussy though – don’t want to hide the best part from your fiancé, right? I’m sure it’s no novelty to him, but it’s a beautiful part of you and I doubt he’ll want it covered up.”

“Actually, he’s never seen it,” Emily confessed. “This’ll be the first time.”

“Whoa!” said Anthony, startled. “So I got to see it first! Well isn’t that something. Okay, well, if this is your first time showing your pussy to your fiancé, let’s make sure it’s a beautiful photo. Hmm, why don’t you put your hands behind your back, lean against the wall, and cross one ankle over the other?”

Emily adopted this pose, smiling shyly, and Anthony took a photo. “Gorgeous!” he said. “Let me just adjust some settings and take another one ... perhaps a bit more of a close-up...” As he talked, he was hastily typing in his phone number. Hitting Send, he raised the phone, then paused. “Actually, stand up straight and come away from the wall,” he said. “Feet apart, and hands on your hips. Perfect!” He quickly sent this one to himself too.

“I think that’s enough,” said Emily nervously. “I need to get to work...”

“Just one more,” said Anthony. “And I’ll tell you why. It suddenly occurs to me that if you’re going to show your pussy to your fiancé for the first time ... shouldn’t it really be in person? I mean, sexting him a pussy photo just seems a little ... I don’t know ... tawdry? Not that there’s anything wrong with that – it’s good clean fun – but wouldn’t you like his first glimpse of your pussy to be a little more ... special?”

“Yes!” Emily agreed. This made a great deal of sense to her. “Oh dear, but I did tell him I’d try to send him a nude photo...”

“You can do that,” said Anthony, “without showing your pussy. Turn to your right a little, and bend your left knee. Hands on hips again, and turn your upper body this way a bit. There – lovely. A nude photo, but your pussy is hidden. Very artistic. I’m sure he’ll love it.” He deftly went into her messages and deleted the ones he had sent, then he handed her the phone.

Emily looked through the photos he had taken. “Thank you Anthony, these are all nice. Much better than the one I took! But I think you’re right; I’ll just send him the last one.”

“Right, well you can do that later,” said Anthony. “Let’s get your uniform sorted out. Here, try this blouse on.”

The latest blouse was white, and far too small for her. It had six buttons, but it was so tight on her that she could only fasten the bottom two. Above that, her breasts pulled the two halves apart in a very wide V, exposing a huge amount of her chest. Style-wise it was actually very similar to her Cathcart blouse, except that it was clearly a smaller size. It was, however, a slight improvement over the sheer cream blouse in that it kept her nipples hidden ... though only just.

Emily looked down at her chest anxiously. “Ugh, it’s so revealing!”

“I’m sure Blake will love it,” said Anthony. “Let’s take a photo and send to to him, and we’ll see what he says.” He pulled out his own phone, and smiled to see the photos he had sent himself from Emily’s phone.

“Wait!” said Emily, as Anthony held up his phone to take a photo. “I haven’t got a skirt on!”

“That’s okay,” said Anthony, “I’ll only take a photo of your top half. Hands by your sides, otherwise it looks weird. Now smile.” He took a photo, which captured not only her pussy but also most of her thighs, and then he zoomed in a little and took another, which was cropped at the base of the blouse. This one, he showed to her.

“Okay,” she said, relieved.

“Just sending that to Blake,” he said, and he sent the second photo. “Now, I’m afraid we’re out of options for the skirt. I did try to find another suitable one. But I think we’ll have to go with the longer blue one – the one that just covers your butt.”

Emily sighed, and nodded. By now she had spent so long with her bottom and pussy exposed that the idea of having them covered, even by so little, felt very comforting. She went to pick up the skirt, put it on, and then she retrieved her shoes and stepped into them. Anthony took another photo and sent it to Blake, who shortly afterward responded with ‘Perfect! That’ll do nicely. Took a long time though!’

“He loves it,” said Anthony. “Now, you don’t need to pay for anything, of course, but I will need you to sign for the blouse and skirt so I can bill Innesco.”

“Sure,” said Emily, and she followed him to the cashier’s desk and signed her name where he indicated.

“Once again,” said Anthony, holding out his hand, “it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“I’m sure,” said Emily ruefully, shaking his hand. “You did after all get to see me naked, which not even my fiancé has done yet!”

“It was a privilege,” said Anthony with a smile. “Enjoy your first day at your new job; I’m sure you’ll do very well at Innesco.”

“Thank you!” said Emily.

Once she had left the shop, she immediately called Mary. “Answer, please answer,” she muttered as she walked briskly back toward Innesco.

“Hello Emily!”

“Mary!” said Emily in relief. “Listen, I’m hoping you can do me a really big favour please.”

“Anything at all, dear,” Mary replied. “Just name it.”

“In my underwear drawer you’ll find a ... a thong,” said Emily, highly embarrassed to have to admit this to Mary, but in too desperate a need to hold back. “Nathan bought it for me. Anyway this skirt I’m wearing is very thin and tight, and apparently a visible panty-line isn’t going to be acceptable. So please could you bring that thong to Innesco? I’ll meet you on the sidewalk outside.”

“I’m already on it,” said Mary. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it! See you shortly dear.”

Emily hung up, and continued her walk back to Innesco. When she arrived, acutely aware of the stares and comments of all the pedestrians that walked past her, she huddled in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable, until she saw Mary’s car pull up against the kerb. She rushed to the passenger door, opened it, and stooped until she could see Mary. Her thong was on the passenger seat, and she snatched it up. “Thank you!” she said.

“Wait wait wait!” said Mary, looking shocked. “That’s what they want you to wear in the office?”

“Yes,” said Emily wretchedly. “I know it’s terribly revealing...”

“It is!” Mary exclaimed. “Your breasts are almost falling out of that blouse, and right now I suspect anyone passing behind you can see your bottom! Emily, if this is the price you’re paying for this office job, it’s not worth it. Don’t take the job, I beg you. You’ll be eaten alive.”

Emily groaned, and climbed into the car. “But this is my dream!” she said plaintively. “I’ll quit if you really want me to, Mary, but honestly I think I can handle it. I’ll be sitting at a desk mostly, right? People aren’t going to be ogling me the whole time. Maybe some of the time, but frankly I’m getting quite used to that.” She sighed, and turned toward Mary. “Can I just see how my first day goes, please? If it’s awful, I won’t go back ... but Blake did say he would deal with anyone who gives me a hard time. He wants me to be happy and successful there.”

“It’s Blake I’m worried about,” said Mary. “Look Emily, it’s up to you. I’m not going to force you to come home with me. But if you go in there, and anything bad happens ... don’t wait for the end of the day. Just walk out of there, and don’t look back. And call me! I’ll be here to pick you up as soon as I can.”

Emily nodded. “Thank you Mary,” she said gratefully. “I absolutely will. But I really hope I don’t have to. Wish me luck?”

“Good luck,” said Mary, taking Emily’s hand. “I’ll be praying for you.”

“Thank you!” said Emily. She climbed out of the car, hurried to the front door of the building, and unlocked the door with the keycard Blake had given her. Stepping inside, she hurried to the elevator, and summoned it. When it arrived, she entered, and hit the button for the fourth floor. Once the doors had closed, she hurriedly stepped into her thong and pulled it up. Tugging her skirt back into place, she heaved a sigh of relief.

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped out. As she faced the door in front of her, with “Innesco” emblazoned upon it in large black letters, she whimpered slightly at the thought of entering a room full of strangers dressed like this. She felt more naked now than she had felt while posing for Anthony a few minutes ago. Plucking up her courage, she walked forward, pushed the door open, and entered.

A young woman was sitting at the reception desk. She was blue-eyed and pretty, with abundant make-up accentuating her features. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was brushed back over her left ear, but hung down in front of her face on the other side, almost obscuring her right eye. She looked up as Emily approached, and instantly her eyes narrowed. “What ... the ... hell,” she said, staring with undisguised hostility at Emily’s chest.

Emily folded her arms protectively. “I’m Emily Flynn,” she said. “Blake’s new assistant.”

“Blake’s new prostitute, more like,” said the woman, frowning. “What made you think that was an appropriate outfit for an office?”

“It’s what Blake wants me to wear!” said Emily wretchedly. “But I should have known this was all wrong. I’m sorry – I’ll just go.”

“Wait, wait, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” said the woman grumpily. “I’ll call Blake and let him know you’re here.” She put a headset on and hit a couple of buttons on her phone. After a moment she said, “Hi Blake. Your new assistant’s here... Okay.” She tapped a button on her headset, then said, “He’ll be along in a moment.”

“Thank you,” said Emily in a small voice.

The receptionist regarded Emily in amusement. “I’m Sadie,” she said. “Welcome to the company, I guess.”

“Thank you,” said Emily again. She did not feel particularly welcome, however.

Blake appeared, smirking as he looked Emily up and down. “Come along,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to my team.”

Emily followed him into the cube farm, where Emily soon spotted a familiar face. “I believe you know Chet,” said Blake, stopping at the entrance to one of the cubes.

Chet turned around, and got to his feet. “Emily!” he said, his eyes widening as they took in her outfit. “So glad you aced the interview! Welcome aboard!”

“Hi Chet,” said Emily, smiling. “Thank you.” She wanted to add ‘Sorry about my outfit!’, but did not dare do so in front of Blake. Besides, Chet probably liked it anyway.

“Chet’s my production guy,” said Blake. “He tells the factory what to make, and they make it. Important guy, our Chet.”

Chet laughed. “I just plan production of whatever our customers order,” he said. “I’d be in trouble if I went rogue and asked them to make something that wasn’t needed.”

“He’s just being modest,” said Blake. “There’s an art to what he does – making a sensible production plan out of a chaotic order book.”

“It’s really more of a science than an art,” said Chet.

Blake fixed his piggy eyes on Chet. “He can also be annoyingly contrary. Don’t be like Chet, Emily.”

Next they visited the finance director, Harrison Pitt, who was a good decade younger than Blake, and rather better looking, though Emily felt instantly wary of him as he sized her up with a lustful grin. “Well now, who’s this tasty morsel?” he inquired.

“Back off, Harrison,” said Blake. “She’s mine. My assistant, I mean. Emily, Harrison‘s in charge of sales and marketing, purchasing, accounting – basically all the financial stuff. I may be officially his boss, but really he and I effectively co-run the business. I handle the operational side; he deals with the money.”

“Pleased to meet you, Emily,” said Harrison, grinning at her chest as he held out his hand. As Emily shook it, he stroked her wrist with his index finger. She shuddered a little as he finally let go and she was able to withdraw her hand. She thought about Mary’s warning; Harrison was definitely going to be on her radar.

Blake introduced her to a few other people, and she did her best to remember all of their names. Then he led her to an empty cube. “And this is yours!” he said. “Damn it – looks like it hasn’t even been set up for you yet! That useless fool...” He pulled out his phone and opened up his list of recent calls. Tapping a number roughly halfway down the list, he held his phone to his ear.

“Billy!” he snapped. “Get your butt out here. I’m in Emily’s cube – you know, the new girl, whose computer you were supposed to set up?” He hung up. “Billy’s our software guy,” he explained to Emily. “Our IT department consists of three guys, and setting up new computers is Billy’s responsibility. One that he doesn’t take as seriously as he should!”

A moment later, a chubby young man with soft, almost feminine facial features walked around the corner. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt bearing the words ‘Stranger Things’ in red letters. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Emily, his cheeks reddened, and he looked hastily at the floor ... then at Blake, then back at the floor. “It’s almost done, Blake – I’m just installing the last few bits of software now, and then I’ll be done.”

“I told you to have it ready for first thing this morning!” said Blake angrily. “Why isn’t it finished?”

“I was visiting my parents this weekend,” said Billy uncomfortably. “I didn’t get back until ten o’clock last night.”

“So you just thought you’d ignore my request, and start work on it this morning?” Blake demanded.

“I came in at six o’clock!” Billy protested plaintively. “It’s a brand new laptop; there was a lot to set up.”

“I’m not interested in excuses, Billy,” said Blake grimly. “How long before it’s ready?”

“About half an hour,” said Billy.

“Half an ... ugh!” said Blake in disgust. “Just ... get it done, you useless lump!”

“Yes Blake,” said Billy, and he turned and walked quickly away. Emily found herself feeling rather sorry for him; he seemed so cowed, so downtrodden. And Blake, apparently, could be a bit of a bully.

“Well, Emily,” said Blake, “come on into the kitchen, and I’ll show you how I like my coffee.”

Emily followed him, determined to pay close attention. This part of her job, at least, she could nail, thanks to her short stint as a barista. She was almost disappointed, therefore, to find that it was a very simple process involving a Keurig machine and a plastic cup sealed in foil. All she had to remember was that Blake had his own special mug, that his preferred flavour was French Roast, and that he liked it black, with three paper sachets of sugar.

“Got it,” she said.

“Good,” said Blake. “Help yourself to whatever you want, and I’ll see you in my office when you’re ready.”

“Oh, I don’t drink coffee,” said Emily. “I’ll just grab myself a glass of water if that’s okay.”

Blake stared at her, then shrugged. “Well I wouldn’t drink the water from the sink in here,” he advised her. “Apparently it tastes pretty nasty. Something to do with the pipes, is my guess. We do have a drinking fountain outside the restrooms, though.”

“Um ... okay,” said Emily. It immediately occurred to her that if she bent over a drinking fountain while wearing this skirt, her bottom would be exposed to anyone behind her. But perhaps she could pick a moment when nobody was looking.

Blake led her out of the kitchen and back past the restrooms, where he pointed out the drinking fountain. “There you go,” he said. “Have at it.”

“Um,” said Emily, her cheeks colouring. She was thirsty, but not enough to flash her bottom at her new boss.

“You know where my office is,” Blake continued. “I’ll see you there in a moment.”

It seemed he was not, after all, planning on sticking around. “Okay I’ll see you there,” said Emily. As soon as he was gone, she took a quick look around. From the drinking fountain she could see down an aisle between cubes, but she did not have direct line-of-sight or anybody sitting at their desks. Drinking ought to be relatively safe. Bending over the fountain, she pressed the button, and drank as the water arced upward in a slender stream. Having had enough, she wiped her mouth as she stood up straight, and turned around just in time to see a wide-eyed male face disappearing behind the wall of his cube, about halfway down the aisle. She groaned internally, and hurried off to Blake’s office.

“I’ve got an orientation video for you to watch,” said Blake, as Emily sat down in front of his desk, shivering as she felt her bare buttocks contacting the chair (her skirt was too short to fully tuck beneath her bottom).

Blake swung his laptop around, and Emily paid close attention as a fairly well-produced short film described, with a mix of photos and video clips and animations, the history of the company. She learned about its achievements and its goals, its business philosophy and its logistics, and its employee rules and guidelines. Blake, it seemed, was not quite the top dog; that title belonged to the owner and CEO, Ken Zuckerman, who had started the company fifteen years ago after purchasing a fabric factory in the city’s industrial district. Originally the office staff had worked at the factory too, but with production growth had come an increase in the employee count, which had necessitated a move to the current building.

“Very interesting!” said Emily, as the video ended.

Blake nodded. “Now you’ve got a general idea of what we do,” he said, “but it would benefit you to go around the office and talk to people, learn what they all do.”

“Okay,” said Emily.

The door opened, and the stressed-looking face of Billy the software guy appeared. “All done,” he said. “Emily’s laptop is all set up.”

“Good!” said Blake. “Now go teach her Excel.”

“What?” said Billy, startled.

“Was my instruction unclear?” Blake asked politely.

“Uh ... no,” said Billy. “Uh ... to what level?”

“Just the basics to begin with,” said Blake. “Whatever you can accomplish in two hours.”

“But I’m supposed to be...” Billy began, only to trail off under the onslaught of Blake’s glare. “Fine – of course.”

“Go on,” Blake said to Emily. “Pay attention – for all his many failings, Billy is a wiz at Excel, and you can learn a lot from him. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Okay,” said Emily, getting up.

Billy led her back to her cube. “Have a seat,” he said, his eyes flitting nervously about. “I’ll let you drive; you’ll learn faster like that.”

Her cube had a spare chair, which he drew up next to hers as she sat down. “Okay, go ahead and switch on. Your username and password are on that post-it.”

Emily opened up the laptop, and switched it on. But as she waited for something to happen on the screen, Billy reached over, closed it, and pointed to a larger screen on a stand behind the laptop. “Aha,” said Emily, as the second screen flickered into life.

“You can actually switch it on with that button there on the docking station,” said Billy. “Saves you from having to open the laptop.”

“Okay – thank you,” said Emily. When prompted, she entered her username – “flynne” – and her password, “Password$”. As her desktop loaded up, however, a message appeared, telling her that her password had expired and she needed to change it. Thinking quickly, she changed it to “Nathan” ... or at least tried to. “Does not meet security requirements...” she read aloud.

“It has to be a mixture of upper and lower case letters, numbers, and punctuation characters,” Billy explained.

“Oh goodness!” said Emily. “Um...” She thought hard for a few moments, then she shrugged and tried “Nathan#1”. This worked, and she relaxed a little as her desktop loaded.

“I added to your taskbar all the apps you’ll need,” said Billy. “You’ve got Outlook, Word, Excel, Dynamo, Google Chrome...”

“What’s Dynamo?” Emily asked.

“That’s what we use for processing orders,” said Billy. “It tracks them through order entry, production, packaging, shipping, and invoicing. I honestly don’t know how much you’ll be using it, but I’d guess you’ll be getting some training on it.”

“There’s a lot to learn, isn’t there?” asked Emily nervously.

Billy nodded. “Don’t worry though,” he said. “Nobody expects you to know everything. And if you ever can’t work out how to do something, just ask. You can email or message me anytime – I’ll be happy to help you out.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully. “That’s comforting.”

“All right, let’s teach you Excel,” said Billy, and over the course of the next two hours, he did exactly that. Emily found him to be a good and patient teacher, and soon she was getting quite comfortable with the basic functionality of the program.

“There’s a lot more to learn,” he said, “but you should be able to handle most of what Blake throws at you. If not, like I said, just instant message me and I’ll be happy to help you out.”

“Thank you!” said Emily. “You’re very kind. And this training session has been wonderful. I’m afraid I’m pretty much a blank slate when it comes to this stuff. I feel like a bit of a fraud.”

“Well I’m sure Blake recognised potential in you,” said Billy generously. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have hired you, right?”

Emily bit her lip. “Um ... I think it was pretty much my ... physique... that got me the job,” she admitted candidly. “And my skimpy clothing.”

“Hush,” said Billy nervously, glancing around. “Don’t say that too loudly. And don’t dwell on it. The fact is, you’ve got the job. You just need to work hard, and prove to everyone – most of all yourself – that you deserve it. Because I know you do. You’re obviously smart – you picked up what I taught you very quickly. I have no doubt that you can do this job, and be awesome at it. But while you’re still learning, I’ll help you however I can.”

Emily found tears coming to her eyes. “Thank you Billy, that’s such a nice thing to say!” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he said awkwardly, still not meeting her in the eye.

Blake rounded the corner. “All done?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Billy. “There’s plenty more I could teach Emily, but she’s got the basics.”

“All right, then stop ogling her chest, and get back to your own job,” said Blake.

“I wasn’t!” Billy protested, flicking his eyes down to his knees. He got up, and trundled out of Emily’s cube, making a sharp left turn and then disappearing from view.

Blake smirked. “I’m sure it made his week, getting to sit next to you for two hours,” he said. “I hope it was worth it and you picked up some useful Excel skills.”

“I did,” Emily confirmed. “Billy’s a good teacher.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Blake. “Did he set you up with access to my calendar?”

“Oh ... I’m not sure,” said Emily.

Blake rolled his eyes. “Figures.”

“Wait – let me check,” said Emily hastily. She very much did not want Billy to get into any trouble on her account. She opened her Outlook session, and clicked Calendar. Sure enough, there was Blake’s calendar, sitting alongside hers. “Yes, I see it right here,” she said, relieved.

“All right then,” said Blake gruffly. “Now, I want you to free up my Wednesday afternoon. That means rescheduling any commitments I have at that time. If it’s just a phone call, try to fit it in in the morning instead. If I have to go somewhere...”

“You currently have three meetings on Wednesday afternoon,” said Emily, feeling pleased that she had found this information so quickly. “Two of them appear to be phone calls...”

“Did I say you could fucking interrupt me?” asked Blake.

The colour drained from Emily’s cheeks. “No, I ... I’m sorry,” she said, cowed.

“If I have to go somewhere,” Blake repeated, “you’ll need to consult with me regarding an alternate time. Otherwise, just work with any other meeting attendees to figure out a time that works for everyone. If their calendars show them as free at a certain time, that time is fair game and you don’t need to check with them.”

Emily hesitated, wanting to be sure he was done before she dared to open her mouth again. Since he seemed to be looking at her expectantly, she said, “Okay – got it.”

“Good,” said Blake. “Now get to it.”

He returned to his office, and Emily set about rearranging his meetings. The calls were easy – she managed to pull them both forward to Wednesday morning – but the other meeting involved six people and a conference room. Fortunately she found a slot on Friday afternoon when everyone was available, but she was not sure how time-sensitive the meeting was. Would Friday afternoon be soon enough?

“How’s it going, Emily?” came a voice from behind her.

She turned her chair around, and found herself looking across the aisle into the cube of Zack Bayner, a slim, roguishly handsome thirty-year-old man who had been introduced to her as the Transportation Planner. Upon seeing his eyes widen as they dropped to her microskirt, she belatedly clasped her hands in her lap. “Um, fine thanks,” she said.

“Sounds like Blake’s thrown you in at the deep end,” said Zack. “But there’s no need for you to panic. We’re a team here, and we help each other out. Now you’re part of the team, so if you fond yourself struggling, don’t feel bad about asking for some assistance. Heck, with the way you’re dressed, I’m sure every guy in the office is just dying for the opportunity to help you out.”

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said. “It seems like a simple task – rearranging his calendar. I just hope I made the right decisions.”

“Want me to take a peek?” asked Zack. “I could give you the benefit of my expert opinion.”

“Sure!” said Emily. “Yes please – that would be very kind of you.”

Zack got up and walked over, then he stooped and peered over her shoulder as she turned back to face her screen. “What did you change?”

“I moved this meeting from Wednesday to Friday,” said Emily. “I wasn’t sure if it was more urgent than that though...”

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” said Zack. “The weekly production review often gets moved around, and sometimes even cancelled. Friday is fine.” He glanced down at her breasts, practically overflowing out of her gaping neckline.

“Thank you!” said Emily. “That’s good to know.”

“Now tell me,” said Zack, “because I’m dying to know. How the hell did Blake persuade you to wear an outfit like this? Not that I’m complaining...”

Emily blushed. “Well, I’m a little under-qualified,” she confessed. “It was either agree to wear a skimpy uniform, or not get the job. And I really wanted this job!”

Zack chuckled, and nodded. “Well you’re a welcome addition to our company,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Emily nodded. “Thank you so much,” she said. “Oh, looks like Blake’s sent me an email...”

“I’ll let you get back to work, then,” said Zack. “Good luck!”

Emily opened the email, and read the following:

Emily,
How are your proofreading skills? Take a look at the attached document. It’s an article I’ve written for a trade magazine. Fix any mistakes you find, make sure it reads well, etc, and send it back to me by 1:15.

Blake

Emily opened the attachment, and began to read. She soon came across an extraneous apostrophe, and then a comma that needed to be a semicolon. As she continued through the article, reading it as carefully as possible, she made numerous small changes. Having reached the end, she found she still had fifteen minutes to spare, so she read it through again, and made one more minor change in wording. Satisfied, she emailed the article back to Blake, then she got out her sandwich, and ate it while she waited nervously for Blake’s feedback.

Having finished the sandwich, she found she was thirsty, so she walked over to the drinking fountain, and bent over it to have a nice long drink of water. As she straightened up and turned around, once again she saw a face disappearing behind the wall of a cube about halfway down the aisle. She felt embarrassed, and slightly annoyed, but also a little curious about who had been checking out her bottom while she drank. Since her own cube was in the next aisle over, however, she did not feel comfortable walking down this aisle in order to investigate.

She returned to her cube, and checked her inbox, but she had no new emails. Unsure how to spend her time, she decided to take the opportunity to practise her new Excel skills.

“Hey Emily,” said a voice behind her.

She swung her chair around, this time remembering to clasp her hands in her lap. Standing at the entrance to her cube was Chet. “Oh, hi Chet!” she said brightly.

He grinned. “How’s it going?” he asked. “Blake’s not being too rough on you I hope?”

She shuddered. “He used the F-word on me,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’m afraid I upset him by interrupting him. But otherwise I think it’s been good so far.”

Chet chuckled. “Yeah, he has some rough edges,” he said. “But he’s all right as long as you stay on his good side. Anyway, I just came to say I’m heading out to Cathcart, and I wondered if you wanted to come along. My treat.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Thank you, but...” She shivered at the thought of encountering Trish there. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Trish was very angry with me for leaving so suddenly. I don’t think she’d like to see me there.”

“Huh!” said Chet. “I’m sorry to hear that. But ... she doesn’t work Mondays, right?”

“Oh yes, that’s true,” said Emily, belatedly recalling Trish’s schedule. “But really, I’m fine. I brought a sandwich with me.”

“Aww come on,” said Chet good-naturedly. “It’ll do you good to get away from your desk for half an hour.”

“Perhaps,” said Emily, “but also, I don’t actually get a lunch break. Blake said I should eat at my desk.”

Chet frowned. “I’ll talk to him,” he said.

“That’s really not necessary...” Emily began, but Chet had already marched off in the direction of Blake’s office.

A minute later, he returned. “He said you can come to the coffee shop with me,” he reported. “Seeing as it’s your first day.”

Emily sighed. “Okay,” she said, not wanting to seem rude. “I’ve already had my sandwich, though – I’m not sure what I’m going to order.”

“Coffee?” Chet suggested.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she replied.

“Tea?”

“I guess I could have some tea,” Emily conceded.

Chet smiled. “All right then, let’s go.”

Emily followed him past the front desk, where Sadie stared disapprovingly at her outfit for a moment before rolling her eyes and looking back at her computer. As she entered the elevator, Emily self-consciously tugged her skirt down and checked the back to make sure her bottom was still covered. It was, barely.

Outside, she folded her arms across her chest as she walked with Chet, not at all happy about being out in public in this skimpy uniform. She was glad, but also rather nervous, when they arrived at the coffee shop. Her eyes were burning from several half-heard comments from pedestrians they had passed along the way.

Entering Cathcart Coffee, Chet cheerfully marched up to the counter. Emily followed timidly, and smiled sheepishly at Cassidy, who was staring at her open-mouthed from behind the cash register. “Hi Cassidy,” she said awkwardly.

“Jeez, Emily!” said Cassidy. “You’re wearing less and less every time I see you!”

“I know,” said Emily wretchedly.

“You look amazing though,” Cassidy continued with unabashed frankness. “Are you here to see Marv?”

“Um ... no,” said Emily, rather flustered. “I ... I’m just here as a customer.”

“Okay,” said Cassidy. “You should go see him though – he was awful bummed about you leaving so suddenly. And when he heard what Trish did...”

“Oh goodness!” groaned Emily. “Does everyone know about that?”

Cassidy nodded. “Go see him!” she urged Emily. “I think he has a check for you.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Well ... yes, okay then.” She turned toward Chet.

“You go on,” he said. “I’ll order you a cup of tea. How do you like it?”

“Plenty of milk please,” said Emily. “No sugar. Just a regular black tea.”

“Comin’ right up!” said Cassidy. “Anything to eat?”

“No, just the tea thanks,” said Emily. Then she headed into the back of the shop, and knocked on the door of Marv’s office. When he answered, she nervously pushed the door open, and walked in.

“Emily!” said Marv, his face breaking into a huge smile. “I’m so happy to see you!”

“Hi Marv,” she said, feeling strangely shy.

“I have your check here,” he said, picking up an envelope from his desk. “But I must say I was heartbroken to hear about you leaving us. And when I heard what Trish did to you ... grrrr!”

Emily shivered. “Yes, that wasn’t fun,” she said. “I nearly died of embarrassment!”

“Well I fired her, of course,” said Marv grumpily. “I couldn’t let her get away with treating you like that.”

Emily gasped. “You did? But how will you manage?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have to find someone new, of course, and quickly ... but in the meantime, I’ll help out in the front as needed. I don’t suppose it would help if I begged you on my knees to come back...?”

Emily smiled. “Awww,” she said. “I wish I could, Marv, but I’m working in an office now. It’s something I’ve always dreamed of doing.”

“And that’s your office outfit?” asked Marv, raising an eyebrow. “It’s even skimpier than what you were wearing here!”

“I know,” said Emily ruefully. “But I was recommended for the job on the strength of my figure and skimpy clothing, and then my new boss kind of made it a condition of my employment, so ... I don’t know, I guess I just seem fated to be embarrassingly exposed!”

Marv chuckled. “Well I can’t say I blame your boss,” he said, “but I do hope he doesn’t take any further advantage of you. Whatever your job is, I want you to be happy in it.”

“Thank you, Marv,” said Emily with a smile.

“If you find yourself needing extra cash,” said Marv, “and want to work evenings or weekends, just give me a call.” He handed her the envelope. “I’d love to have you back, but I really do wish you all the best with your new job.”

“I appreciate that, very much,” said Emily, putting the envelope in her bag. “Good luck with replacing me and Trish; I’m so sorry I caused you to be so short-handed.”

Marv shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“Bye then,” said Emily, and with a little wave, she left his office.

Sitting down with Chet at a table by the front window of the shop, she took a sip of her tea.

“So, I see you’re engaged,” said Chet, nodding at her left hand. “Must be quite a guy, I’m guessing.”

“Oh, he is,” said Emily happily. “We’ve known each other since we were little; our parents were friends, and his brother Phil was best friends with my brother Luke, so he and I tended to see a fair bit of each other. Then on my fourteenth birthday, he surprised me by giving me a big bunch of flowers, and telling me he loved me. He was sixteen then, and one of the ‘cool kids’, and I was ... kind of dorky, I guess. I had had a crush on him for ages, but hadn’t dared tell him or anything...”

“Hard to imagine you as ‘dorky’,” said Chet. “I assumed you must have been the hottest girl in your school.”

Emily blushed. “Oh no,” she said. “Far from it. I don’t even think I’m all that pretty, except ... I quite like my eyes. But it seems to be my chest that gets most of the attention.”

“Chest, legs, ass,” said Chet, nodding, “you have an outstanding figure. But don’t undersell your pretty face, Emily. You’re a bona fide beauty.”

Emily‘s cheeks were burning, and she felt a little tongue-tied. Eventually she said, “Thank you Chet. Hearing things like that helps me to feel a little less embarrassed about being so exposed. But I really do wish this outfit were a little more concealing. Over the past few days I’ve become quite accustomed to showing more skin than I would have dreamed of doing, just this time last week, but this new uniform is ... kind of extreme!”

Chet nodded. “It is,” he agreed. “But you look fantastic. Bear in mind you’ve only been wearing it a few hours. Perhaps, in a couple days, you’ll be as comfortable in it as you became in your uniform for this place.”

“Which is not very!” said Emily with a shiver. “But I take your point. Maybe I’ll get used to it. It’ll help a lot if everyone else is as nice about it as you are.”

Chet grinned. “I can’t guarantee that,” he said, “but you’re certainly earning some fans in the office, I can tell you that.”

Emily shivered again.

After chatting with Chet for a few more minutes, the two of them left the coffee shop and walked back to the office. As she sat down at her desk, Emily saw she had an instant message from Blake. It said, ‘Come to my office when you get back.’

Emily got up again, and walked to Blake’s office. His door was open, so she hesitantly stepped inside.

“Ah,” said Blake, looking pleased. “Have a seat, Emily.” He picked up the phone. “Sadie, hi. Come to my office please.”

He put the phone down, and grinned, but said nothing. Emily felt a little bewildered by his manner, but she did not dare to say anything. No doubt Blake would reveal his intent in his own time.

Sadie entered. “Yes Blake?” She seemed a little irritated, for some reason. Now that she was out from behind her desk, Emily could see that the receptionist was also wearing a miniskirt, though it was not nearly as short as her own.

Blake smiled. “I gave you both the same proofreading task,” he said, “and I just got done comparing them. Gotta say, there’s quite a difference!”

Sadie folded her arms, and pursed her lips. “You didn’t tell me it was a contest, Blake,” she said. “I’d have given it more attention if I’d known.”

“So you’re saying you half-assed it?” Blake inquired.

“Well no, of course not,” said Sadie, her cheeks colouring. “But she may have picked up on one or two things I missed, because I was in a hurry.”

“In a hurry to get back to your online shopping?” Blake asked.

Sadie frowned, but said nothing.

“You made six corrections,” said Blake. “Emily made forty-seven.”

“Forty-seven!” Sadie exclaimed. “It wasn’t that long – how the fuck could she find forty-seven mistakes! There weren’t that many! How could there have been that many?”

Blake laughed, clearly enjoying Sadie’s reaction. He peered at his screen. “In the very first sentence she’s changed ‘different than’ to ‘different from’.”

“What’s wrong with ‘different than’?” Sadie demanded. “Everyone says that!”

“They do,” Blake conceded. “But I looked it up, and she’s right. ‘Different from’ is grammatically correct. And later on ... let’s see ... ah yes. I’d written ... blah blah blah ... ‘would recommend a release only if the supporting technology was already in place...’. Emily changed that to ‘if the supporting technology WERE already in place’.”

“But that’s just stupid!” declared Sadie hotly. “Technology is singular! If it was ‘technologies were’, then fine! But you put ‘technology’, so it’s ‘was’!”

Blake grinned. “Care to explain, Emily?”

Emily was feeling rather horrified. She felt like she was being used as a tool for Sadie’s humiliation, which had certainly never been her intent. “I ... I’m sure very few people would notice anything wrong with ‘was’,” she said humbly.

“But you changed it to ‘were’!” said Blake impatiently. “Explain your decision!”

Emily bit her lip. “It’s ... it’s a counterfactual dependent clause,” she said wretchedly, “requiring the past subjunctive mood. Like ‘as it were’ or ‘if I were you’.”

Blake burst out laughing. “There you go, Sadie! The subjunctive! Surely you know about the subjunctive!”

Sadie ground her teeth. “Well I guess you’ve found yourself a new proofreader,” she snapped. “I never claimed to be a fucking English scholar. Now you’ve made your point – are we done?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Blake, chuckling.

Sadie fixed Emily with a malevolent glare, then she turned on her heel and marched from the room. Emily stared anxiously after her.

“So how does a country girl from a religious community get to be an expert in grammar?” Blake inquired.

Emily blushed and looked down at her bare thighs. “When I was ten, my uncle Barney gave me a book on grammar,” she said. “I don’t know, I just ... I found it kind of fascinating.”

“I knew I’d made a good decision in hiring you,” said Blake, grinning. “This was most impressive. Good job. Now run along; I’ll send you something else shortly.”

Emily nodded. Feeling a little conflicted, she left Blake’s office and returned to her desk. She was pleased to have done a good job and earned her boss’s approval, but she was worried that in doing so, she may have earned Sadie’s enmity.

Despite his word, Blake did not send her anything else to do, and about ten minutes later, he left his office, and the building, without saying a word to anyone. Emily tried to look busy, experimenting in Excel, but she wished she had some real work to do. She thought about asking Zack if he had any suggestions, but when she turned around and looked into his cube, he was gone.

It looked as if her last hour of her work day was going to pass very slowly. But then she had a visitor. “Hi!” said a middle-aged woman with wiry hair that was a untidy mixture of black and grey. “I’m Celine, the Human Resources manager.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Hello. I’m Emily Flynn.”

“Yes, I gathered,” said Celine with a smile. “I have some paperwork for you to sign ... honey, it looks like that blouse is a little small for you...”

Emily blushed, and folded her arms. “I know,” she said mournfully. “And my skirt’s too short. Blake wants me to dress this way.”

“Oh!” said Celine, frowning. “So you signed the waiver...?”

Emily nodded.

“Whew!” said Celine, relieved. “Well it’s not my problem, then. Nonetheless, I’ll need you to read through and sign this lot. Just bring it to my office when you’re done. I’m over on the far side, next to the giant yucca.” She handed Emily a small sheaf of papers.

“Thanks,” said Emily.

For the next half-hour or so, she read through and signed various confidentiality and employment agreements. They were rife with legalese, and some of it she did not really understand, but she signed in all the places Celine had highlighted in yellow. When she was done, she crossed to the far side of the cube farm and found Celine’s office with ease, but it was empty, so she left the paperwork on Celine’s desk. Then she returned to her cube, sat down, and spent the last few minutes of her day idly browsing the company’s website.

At three o’clock she closed all of her open applications, shut down her computer, and was about to leave her cube when her phone rang. Surprised, she answered it. “Hello, you’ve reached Innesco, this is Emily Flynn speaking.”

“Emily!” said a vaguely familiar voice. “This is Zack.”

“Zack?” said Emily, puzzled. “Hi – what can I do for you?”

“I’m outside, waiting for Blake,” said Zack. “He asked me to give you a call; I guess he left something in his office, and wants you to fetch it and bring it down here.”

“Oh – okay,” said Emily. “Your timing is perfect – I was just about to leave. What is it he wants?”

“It’s a brown brief case type of thing,” said Zack. “He says it’s probably on the floor next to his desk.”

“Okay, I’ll take a look,” said Emily. She left her cube, walked to Blake’s office, and stepped inside. She immediately spotted a brown brief case – not next to the desk, but in the far corner, next to a filing cabinet. “I think I’ve found it,” she said. Looking around, she could see no other brown cases.

“Great!” said Zack. “Just bring it down with you; I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

“Okay, see you shortly,” said Emily. She pressed the button on her headset to hang up, then she picked up the brief case, and walked back to her cube. Returning the headset to its cradle, she picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked to the front desk. “Goodbye Sadie,” she said, in a warm and friendly manner.

Sadie said nothing, but her clenched jaws and baleful stare spoke volumes. Emily looked away quickly, and hurried through the door. Taking the elevator down to the lobby, she headed outside, then walked around the side of the building, making for the parking lot in the rear. As she scanned the fifty or so cars parked there, she belatedly wondered how she was going to find Zack ... but fortunately he had already spotted her. Getting out of a blue Hyundai not far away, he smiled and waved at her. “Hi!” he said. “Yes, that’s the bag. Thanks very much.”

“Where’s Blake?” asked Emily, as she handed him the bag.

“He had to run to the pharmacy,” said Zack. “Heartburn. He thinks it was something he had for lunch. He’ll be back soon if you need to speak to him.”

“No, that’s fine,” said Emily. “Just tell him, please, that I enjoyed my first day and I look forward to seeing him tomorrow.”

Zack nodded. “I think you’ve made a good impression on him,” he said. “Well done – I’m very glad you’ve joined our team.”

“Me too!” said Emily.

He smiled. “Well, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you – you too!” said Emily. She walked back to the street, turned left, and began walking home with her arms folded. She was not surprised to hear a few cars honking their horns, or a handful of pedestrians making comments, both positive and negative. One woman referred to her as a ‘slut’, which made her feel quite mortified but also highly indignant. She wanted to turn around and exclaim hotly, “I most certainly am not!” ... but she did not have anywhere near enough nerve to do so. She did wish, however, that she had taken the time to get changed before leaving the office.

Reaching Nathan’s apartment building, she hurried up the stairs, and knocked on the door of apartment 23. Nathan himself answered the door this time, to her relief.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Holy sh... Holy cow! Is that what you wore to work?”

“Yes,” Emily admitted, her face reddening. “I had to agree to it, or I wouldn’t have got the job. I’m sorry – I know it’s pretty extreme....”

“No, I love it!” Nathan exclaimed. “It’s incredible! I can’t believe it’s considered acceptable for your office, but I’m so glad it is!”

Emily smiled, and relaxed a little. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad you approve. That’ll make it easier.”

“Come in, come in,” said Nathan, standing aside. “Mack and I were just playing a game.”

“Okay, well I can’t stay too long,” said Emily, “because I have a dancing lesson at five o’clock. But there’s something I really need to do with you, Nathan...”. Then she broke off as she spotted Mack, and saw that he was listening with apparent interest. “Um ... hi Mack.”

“Hi Emily!” said Mack.

“What is it?” asked Nathan. “What do you need to do with me?”

Emily blushed.

“Oh!” said Nathan, nodding. “Gotcha. We kinda have unfinished business from last night, don’t we?”

He had guessed correctly – at least partially – and Emily nodded. So many men had seen her fully naked now that she felt it was very wrong for Nathan not to be among them. But also, she wanted him to put his fingers inside her.

As she walked further into the living room, Mack stared appreciatively at her. “That’s quite the outfit, Emily!” he said.

“I know, right?” said Nathan, grinning. “You must be the hottest secretary in the city!”

Emily folded her arms. “It wouldn’t be my first choice of office uniform,” she said ruefully, “but thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

“Well I’m very proud of you for getting such a good job,” said Nathan. “The fact that you’re looking so good in your new office outfit is just the icing on the cake.”

“How about a photo?” Mack suggested, pulling out his phone. “The two of you together. Nathan with his arm proudly around the new secretary.”

“Sure!” said Nathan. “Where do you want us?”

“Just, um, standing in the middle of the room,” said Mack, getting to his feet. “Say, in front of the hallway there.” He gestured.

“You don’t mind, do you?” asked Nathan, as he and Emily took up their positions, standing side by side with Nathan on the right.

“No, it’s fine,” said Emily. She really wanted to be alone with Nathan, but a quick photo wouldn’t hurt.

Mack stood about eight feet in front of them, holding up his phone. “Arm around her waist, bro,” he said. “That’s good. Emily, maybe just clasp your hands together in front of you. Yup, just like that.” He took a photo.

“Thanks man,” said Nathan.

“How about one with the two of you turning your faces toward each other, and smiling at each other?” Mack suggested.

This sounded like a nice idea, so Emily turned her head and smiled up at Nathan. As he smiled back at her, Mack took another photo.

“How about a kiss?” said Mack.

Nathan grinned at Emily, and bent his head down, puckering his lips for a kiss. Emily readily responded, pressing her lips against his.

“Nice!” said Mack. “Okay next let’s have you still kissing, but this time Nathan’s slipped his hand inside your blouse, Emily, to feel your boob.”

Emily gasped a little at this suggestion, but Nathan laughed. “Naughty!” he remarked in amusement. “I like it.” He turned his body slightly so that he could reach into Emily’s blouse.

Emily blushed as his hand cupped her breast. She did not mind Nathan playing with her chest – indeed she was happy for him to do that and more – but she was not at all sure she wanted an audience for it. Still, it was only a discreet breast grope beneath her blouse... She closed her eyes as Nathan kissed her again.

“Sweet!” said Mack. “That’s a lovely photo, guys! Here, look.” He walked over and held up his phone to show them.

“Wow, that’s really good!” said Nathan, impressed. “It looks quite professional, actually!”

“It does,” Emily had to admit.

“Portrait mode for the win!” said Mack. “Shall we continue? I have more ideas...”

“Sure, I’d be happy to,” said Nathan. “How about you, Emily? When do you need to leave?”

“Not for a while,” said Emily. “I did want to spend some time alone with you though, Nathan...”

“Just a few more?” said Mack hopefully.

“Come on, this is fun!” said Nathan, grinning as he squeezed her breast.

“I guess we can do a few more,” said Emily reluctantly.

“Cool,” said Mack. “Okay, this time Nathan I want you standing behind Emily, putting your arms around her, with your hands on her boobs. Emily, can you unbutton your blouse and open it up?” Emily’s eyes widened, but Mack just grinned. “Nathan’s hands will be covering your boobs,” he assured her. “It’ll be fine.”

“Sounds like fun!” said Nathan, moving to stand behind Emily. “Come on Babe, let’s just undo these buttons...” He began unfastening them.

Emily could not help being reminded of her photo shoot with Diego in Pablo’s attic studio, and she could not help wondering how far Mack was planning to take it. Or, indeed, how far Nathan was willing to let it go. Would this end with Nathan’s hand on her panties? Or perhaps even IN her panties? Would he maybe even put his fingers inside her? If so, at least he would finally have caught up with Alex, Nick, Paul, and Harry ... but she would much rather he do that in private rather than in front of Mack ... and captured on Mack’s phone!

But she was probably assuming too much. Mack would surely not take it that far ... and even if he tried, Nathan would not let it get that far. Would he...?

She could not help feeling a little excited by the uncertainty. Just what would happen if she did not herself object? What would Nathan be willing to do with her in front of Mack? Her nipples were hardening as Nathan unfastened the last button and pulled her blouse open, exposing her breasts. Then he took hold of them with his hands, squeezing them gently as Mack laughed in delight.

“Good stuff, Nathan!” he said. “I love it! Give me a nice smile, both of you.” He took another photo as Emily smiled nervously.

“Now Nathan, I want you to kiss Emily’s neck as you slip that blouse off her shoulders,” said Mack. “Don’t look so alarmed, Emily – remember I’ve seen you naked already. And this’ll be a nice artistic shot. You don’t mind me seeing Emily’s boobs, do you Nathan...? For the sake of art...?”

Nathan chuckled. “I guess not ... but really the one you should be asking is Emily.”

Emily blushed. “Well I’m not entirely comfortable with the idea, but I guess if you want me to, Nathan, and since Mack’s seen my breasts already...”

“Good girl,” said Mack, grinning. “Just smile at me as Nathan starts pulling your blouse down your arms ... yes! Like that. Oh my god, your boobs really are something else...” He took yet another photo. “Awesome. Now let’s get the blouse out of the way...”. He stepped forward and took it as Nathan pulled Emily’s hands out of the sleeves. Tossing it on to the couch, he turned back to Nathan and Emily, and said, “Okay Nathan, unzip that skirt and start pulling it down, while Emily ... hmm...”

“What if Emily acts like she’s trying to stop me?” Nathan suggested. “Just like grabs my wrists, and looks kind of alarmed.”

“I like it!” said Mack. “What do you think, Emily – you up for a bit of acting?”

Emily shivered. She liked acting ... but how far was Nathan going to undress her? Showing her thong was no worse than showing her breasts, at least. “I ... I guess so,” she said. She took hold of Nathan’s wrists as he began pulling her skirt down, and affected a look of shock.

“Love it!” said Mack, laughing happily. “All the way down please Nathan ... and just step out of it ... yup. Toss it over here ... thanks. Actually, can we have the shoes off too?”

Blood was roaring in Emily’s ears as she kicked off her shoes, leaving her in just her thong. Mack retrieved them, tossed them next to the couch, and eagerly took another few photos. “Oh my god, what an incredible body,” he muttered. “Uh ... Nathan, maybe you could lean over her shoulder, and grab her boobs with your hands ... but don’t cover them up ... just kind of cup them from below.”

“What if I do this?” said Nathan, grasping her breasts in such a way that her nipples were exposed between the thumb and forefinger of each hand.

“Yeah! Perfect!” said Mack, taking another photo. “And now ... now for the money shot. Start pulling her panties down.”

Nathan hesitated. “Wow,” he said. “I mean ... I’d love to ... but Emily ... I mean, how do you feel about that...?”

Emily’s cheeks were burning, and she felt light-headed. “I...” she began, but at that moment Nathan’s phone rang.

“Just a second,” he said. “This could be important.” He pulled out his phone, gasped as he looked at it, and then he tapped the screen and raised it to his ear. “Hello, this is Nathan Carter.”

Emily felt rather deflated as she waited for him, but she was also curious about the call. What call could be so important that he would take it rather than pulling down her thong?

“Yes!” said Nathan eagerly. “Absolutely! I’ll be right there. I’ll see you shortly.” He hung up. “I’ve got a job interview!”

Emily gasped. “Really?”

“Nice!” said Mack.

“It’s in a hardware store!” said Nathan. “Heck, I know hardware – I can totally do that! And it’s pretty close – about half a mile away. They want to see me right now!” Then he paused, looking a little anguished. “What terrible timing, though! I was having such fun!”

“Go to your interview,” said Emily, feeling disappointed but wanting to be supportive, and glad that he finally had some prospect of getting a job. “We can finish this later.”

“Okay!” he said. He kissed her briefly on the lips, then he rushed over to the door, and hurriedly put his shoes on.

“Um, Nathan?” said Emily. She was determined that he should at least see her naked before he left. As he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow while tucking his right heel into his shoe, Emily bit her lip, then pulled her thong down to her ankles. Stepping out of it, she stood awkwardly with her hands by her sides. “Um, good luck in your interview.”

Nathan stood up and clapped his hands in delight. “Oh wow!” he exclaimed. “Amazing! Finally I get to see ... and you shave? Holy cow! That’s gorgeous!”

Emily, who had been a little anxious about how he would react to her bald pussy, smiled in relief. “I’m glad you like it,” she said.

“Oh man, I wanna preserve this moment!” said Nathan, looking torn. “Mack, take photos! Please? I gotta go.” He opened the door, and dashed through it.

Mack grinned at Emily. “It’s nice to see you naked again!” he said. “I don’t think you were shaved though, last time...”

“I wasn’t,” Emily admitted, clasping her hands in front of her pussy. “That happened yesterday. Long story. Anyway, um, I guess maybe you should take a photo before I get dressed...”

“I’d be happy to!” said Mack. “Why don’t you stand in the entrance to the hallway, with your hands on either wall. Maybe bend one knee a little, to look more casual.”

Emily adopted this position, feeling quite embarrassed about being naked in front of Mack ... but a little surprised that she was not more so. Perhaps she was just getting used to being naked in front of men. It helped, of course, that she apparently had Nathan’s approval on this occasion, and also that Mack was clearly a fan of her body.

“And smile...” said Mack, holding up his phone. “Nice! Okay, now turn to your right, and kind of hug the corner there. With your left knee up ... yeah, yeah, that’s cool. Perfect. Hey, I’m starting to feel like a proper photographer! Are you up for a few more?”

“Um ... I guess so,” said Emily, who was beginning to think that perhaps she might have a teeny bit of an exhibitionistic streak. At any rate, she had enjoyed her modelling session with Pablo, and posing naked for Anthony this morning had, though she did not like to admit it even to herself, been somewhat fun. Even her little photo shoot with Paul, sitting in a muddy puddle, had been quite exciting.

“Let’s move it to a more comfortable setting, though,” said Mack. “Would you mind lying down on Nathan’s bed for the next one?”

“No, I guess not,” Emily conceded. “I think he’d like that a lot.”

“Come on then,” said Mack, and Emily followed him into Nathan’s room.

But his bed was a mess. Not only were his bedclothes dishevelled and half off the bed, but he had dumped a bunch of clothes on top of it, and a half-eaten bagel sat on a plate on his pillow. “Ugh, dude needs to clean up after himself,” said Mack, kicking a pair of boxer shorts across the floor. “Tell you what, let’s use my room instead. My bed’s made, and it’s just generally a lot tidier in there.”

“I don’t know,” said Emily dubiously. “I’m not sure Nathan would be so thrilled about me posing naked on your bed.”

“Then he should keep his room clean!” said Mack. “It’s his own fault if we have to use my room instead of his. Maybe it’ll prompt him to take better care of his room.”

“Maybe,” said Emily. She sighed. “All right then.”

“Awesome,” said Mack with a grin. “Step right this way.”

He led her down the hallway to his own bedroom, which was, indeed, a little better kept than Nathan’s, though it had more than a hint of stale body odour, which made Emily wrinkle her nose a little. She was far too polite to mention it, of course, and she merely climbed on to his bed and sat down, leaning forward with her knees bent. “How do you w... How should I pose?”

“Let’s start with you lying on your side, propped up on one elbow,” said Mack. “Maybe ... yeah, how about you cradle your face in your hand. And put your left knee forward, so it’s like, more modest and artistic.”

Emily posed as he had instructed, a little surprised that, for the second photo in a row, he had put her in a pose that hid her pussy. Either he was not as keen on it as she had thought, or he was truly committed to making good photos.

“Good!” said Mack. “Now let’s have you on your back, with your left knee raised and bent.”

This pose, at last, was giving her pussy some exposure, and Emily could not help noticing Mack lick his lips as he looked at her shaven vulva. She shivered.

“God you’re beautiful,” he muttered. “Can you prop yourself up on your elbows?”

She did so, but immediately pulled a face. “Ugh, that’s not good,” she said, looking at how the skin of her belly had folded. She breathed in, lifting her ribcage and arching her back a little, so that the fold disappeared.

“Well that doesn’t look natural,” said Mack. “I preferred it before. Who cares if you have a bit to spare around your middle? This is for Nathan, right? And he loves you just how you are.”

“I just wish I had a flatter stomach,” Emily confessed. “I don’t get as much exercise as I used to.”

“No judgment here!” said Mack. “Heck, do I look like I get a lot of exercise?”

“You’re not the one posing naked,” Emily pointed out.

“That’s true,” Mack conceded, “but my point still stands. You have a gorgeous body, and so what if it’s not what society considers ‘perfect’? It’s insanely beautiful, belly and all, and you should be proud of it.”

“Thanks Mack,” said Emily gratefully. “That’s sweet of you.”

“If you don’t want me to take a photo in that pose, I don’t need to,” said Mack, “but remember, we can pick and choose afterwards which ones you want me to send to you and Nathan. Any that don’t make the cut, we can get rid of.”

Emily nodded. “All right. Then I guess ... go ahead and take the photo.” She relaxed back into her former position, and forced a smile.

“Good!” said Mack. “Now, let’s have you lying flat on your back, with your legs kinda splayed, but asymmetrically...”

“Um,” said Emily nervously, “that’s going to be a little explicit, I think...”

“Nope, because you’re going to be covering your pussy with your hand,” said Mack, grinning. “Kind of like a teasing shot.”

“Oh ... okay,” said Emily, her cheeks reddening. “I guess that’ll be all right...” She placed her hand carefully over her pussy, then parted her legs, with her right knee bent more than her left.

“Nice,” said Mack approvingly. “Give me a big smile ... no wait, give me a kinda shy smile – can you do that? Oh yes – that’s it, that’s the one. Good! Now, let’s make it a little more interesting. Spread your legs real wide for me ... well, for Nathan ... but keep your hand in place, making sure it covers everything.”

Her eyes wide, Emily hesitated for a moment, then she slowly drew her knees up and outward, spreading her thighs until they formed an angle of about 120 degrees.

“Awesome!” said Mack excitedly. He climbed on to the bed (he was wearing socks, but no shoes), and stood approximately where Emily’s feet would have been, had her legs been straight and together. Then he aimed his phone. “Smile!” he said.

Emily smiled, and Mack took another photo. He could see from the flush in Emily’s cheeks and chest that she was considerably aroused, and he grinned. “All right, let’s push the envelope a bit,” he said. “This time, instead of covering your pussy with your whole hand, cover it with just three fingers, tucking your thumb and pinky out of sight.”

Emily hesitated, then she eased her thumb and little finger beneath her palm, so that only her middle three fingers were covering her pussy and vaginal opening.

“Cool,” said Mack, rubbing at the bulge in the front of his shorts. “Now can you give me ... I dunno ... some other kind of expression? Something that fits the mood. Um...”

Emily put on a nervous expression, and bit her lower lip.

“Yes!” said Mack. “That’s great, yeah.” He took another photo. “Okay, now ... just two fingers!”

Emily knew she would have to call a halt to this photo session soon, but she was still enjoying herself, and two fingers could still do the job, so she carefully tucked her ring finger back beneath her palm, wondering just how much Mack could see.

“Excellent,” said Mack. “If you don’t mind, these shorts are getting pretty uncomfortable...” He unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts, then hurriedly pulled them down and kicked them off. The bulge in his underwear was very pronounced, and Emily’s eyes widened before she looked away.

“I ... I think we should stop there,” she said.

“We’re almost done,” Mack assured her, gripping the head of his cock through the material of his boxers. “This next one will be tricky, but I know you can do it. Try it with just one finger.”

“I’m not sure one finger will cover everything, Mack,” said Emily nervously.

“So try it!” said Mack cheerfully. “I’ll let you know if it does or doesn’t.”

This was not really the point, but it did at least remind Emily that she could choose which photos Mack could send or delete. And this whole situation was quite erotic; it would be a shame to end it just yet... Her breasts heaving, she tucked her index finger beneath her palm, leaving just her middle finger covering the cleft between her labia and her vaginal opening – hopefully completely.

“Beautiful!” said Mack, taking another photo ... and then retaking it because the first one was blurry. “Still totally decent, but extremely hot and sexy. Now I want you to take one step further...”

“I’m not taking my last finger away,” said Emily firmly.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” said Mack. “But that last finger ... I want you to actually press it in between your pussy lips, and very slightly sink your fingertip inside ... you know ... your vagina.”

“That’s way too much!” gasped Emily.

Mack smiled down at her. “Sure, it’ll be a bit more naughty than the last few,” he said. “But incredibly erotic, wouldn’t you say? And you needn’t send it to Nathan just yet, of course; maybe we keep it in reserve for a while, and save it for when you feel Nathan’s ready for it. Same goes for any others we take, really. What you send to Nathan, and when, is entirely up to you. But let’s build up a nice collection, so that you have plenty to pick and choose from.”

Emily swallowed. Mack’s plan seemed so reasonable ... except that it meant that he himself would be getting views of her of such explicitness that he was suggesting she withhold them even from Nathan for the time being. It seemed so ... depraved! And yet, was this any worse than letting Paul or Nick or Harry finger her? And she was doing this for Nathan, after all...

“Okay,” she said, and she wiggled her middle finger, sinking it between her labia. Then she slipped the end of her finger into her vagina.

Mack sighed with pleasure. Dropping to his knees, he took another photo, which cropped out her legs below the knee but included the rest of her. Then he moved his phone nearer to her pussy, and took a close-up photo that showed her labia prominently, and her finger disappearing inside her.

“Awesome,” said Mack in a husky voice. “Now I want you to start masturbating; stroke that sweet clit of yours. I’ll take some more photos from different angles.”

Emily was so horny by now that the instruction to stroke her clitoris was very welcome, even though she knew it meant fully exposing her vaginal opening to Mack’s gaze. She began stroking herself, closing her eyes in a subconscious attempt to block out the fact of Mack’s lecherous presence, of the photos he was taking, of the pleasure he was deriving from the lewd view she was giving him.

Mack had now switched to video mode, and he slowly zoomed in and out, recording Emily’s soft moans and gentle writhing as she rubbed with increasing urgency at her clitoris. Then, holding his phone in his left hand, Mack licked the middle finger of his right hand, carefully positioned it, and gently but quickly slid it into her vagina. Emily squealed.

“Keep going!” Mack said quickly. “This’ll help; I’ll rub you inside while you rub your clit.”

Whether or not Mack knew the location of her g-spot, Emily had no idea, but his thrusting finger was certainly finding it. And he was merely the latest in a growing list of men who had done this to her. Biting her lip, she resumed masturbating, and voiced no objection to Mack’s outrageous liberty.

Mack could hardly believe his luck. He had fully expected this wonderful moment to end with Emily yelling at him and perhaps kicking him to make him remove his finger. But it seemed his wild gamble had paid off hugely; she was now contentedly masturbating while he thrust his finger in and out of her vagina. Getting bolder, he added his index finger as well, and clumsily recorded himself finger-fucking her with a phone that he was trying to hold as steady as possible.

Emily uttered a loud, protracted moan, arching her back and spreading her thighs even wider as she shuddered in ecstasy. Mack continued to rapidly piston his fingers inside her until she collapsed, panting, on his bedspread.

He withdrew his fingers, and wiped them on his boxer shorts. “Okay,” he said. “One last photo, and then we’re done. I want you to pull your knees back, and spread your thighs as wide as possible. Don’t cover anything; give me the most explicit, most naughty, most erotic view of your pussy and vagina that you can. Then, I promise, we’re done, and I’ll leave you alone to get your breath back in peace. Okay?”

Emily felt as if she were swimming in eroticism; drowning in it. At this moment she hardly cared if he stuck his fingers back inside her, took more photos of her, or started sucking on her breasts. Wordlessly and with her eyes still closed, she drew her knees further back, spread her thighs wide apart, and imagined what it would be like if he took this opportunity to climb on top of her and stuck his cock inside her. She almost wanted him to. Not really, of course – she would scream blue murder if he tried it – but it was an erotic thought nonetheless.

Mack took several close-up photos of Emily’s explicitly-spread pussy, all red and glistening from her arousal and intense orgasm. Then, taking a chance, he sank his middle finger back into her vagina. “You like being fingered, huh?” he asked in a low voice.

Emily was still feeling deliciously naughty; guilt had not yet encroached on her enjoyment of this intense experience. Each new fingering was a little easier to excuse than the last, and her squeal when she felt Mack’s finger enter her had been one of delight as much as shock. Now that the finger had returned, she almost purred with pleasure. “Yes,” she whispered, thrilling to the realisation that this was giving him power over her. “I love it.” She had just practically guaranteed that he would do this to her again.

Mack flipped to his photo album, then he held out his phone to Emily. “Take a look,” he said. He crawled up the bed and lay down next to her, while taking care to keep his finger buried inside her.

“Oh my goodness, do I really look like that down there?” Emily gasped, her eyes widening as she stared at the latest photo.

“Yup,” Mack confirmed, slowly easing his finger in and out of her. “And I can tell you – speaking from a guy’s perspective – it’s as pretty a pussy as I’ve ever seen. Utterly gorgeous.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Emily, shuddering a little. “It looks kind of weird to me.” She flipped back through the photos. “Oh my goodness – you took video?? Oh no ... please don’t send this to Nathan!”

“Don’t worry,” Mack assured her. “Like I said, it’s entirely your decision what gets sent, and when. There’s no need to panic. Nothing gets sent without your approval. But that’s why I gave you the phone – you need to pick what photos to send to Nathan first.”

Emily kept flipping, until she got back to the first ones he had taken of her today. “Goodness, you sure took a lot of photos!” she said nervously.

Mack chuckled. “Yup,” he said. “Okay, so these first ones are fine to send to Nathan, right?”

Emily nodded. “Sure,” she said. Then she got to the first nude photo, in the entrance to the hallway. “I guess this would be fine too...”

“Maybe,” said Mack. “But you might not want to start off so explicit. The next pic would be a better one to send first, I think.”

It was the shot of her hugging the corner of the wall. “Yes,” Emily agreed. “I do like this one.”

“I’d suggest you maybe hold off on sending him too much at once,” Mack advised her. “You know the saying, ‘less is more’? It’s up to you, of course, but if I were you I would just whet his appetite with this one and the next one.”

Emily swiped to the next photo, in which she was lying on her side on Mack’s bed, her pussy tastefully obscured by her thigh. “I like this one too,” she said. “But I’m sure he’ll be wanting a photo that shows my pussy. Can you send him all three of these ones?”

Mack smiled. “As you wish,” he said. “I’ll send them to you too. And I’ll keep the others safe until such time as you want me to send them to you and Nathan. Just let me know which ones you want, and when.”

Emily shivered. She wanted to ask him to delete the close-up photos of her pussy, and the video of his fingers sliding in and out of her vagina ... but what if he refused? “I ... I guess I’m a bit worried about them falling into the wrong hands,” she ventured.

“I’ll put them in a special password-locked folder,” he said. “You needn’t worry. When I said I’d keep them safe, I meant it.”

This was reassuring. “Thank you,” she said.

Mack grinned at her. “You know ... you’ve had a nice orgasm, but my cock’s still hard as a rock and in need of attention.”

“Oh!” said Emily. Apparently she was about to give her second hand-job. “Okay...”

He pulled his finger out of her, got up on to his knees, and extracted from his boxer shorts a pale pink penis that was a little shorter, but rather chubbier, than Paul’s. “Can I cum on your boobs?” he asked brightly.

He had a firm grasp on his shaft; apparently he was planning to do it himself. “Um ... I guess so...?” said Emily, somewhat intrigued by the idea. This would be another first for her.

Mack began rapidly pumping his cock while pointing it approximately between her breasts. Emily watched, fascinated, until a minute or so later when, with a groan of pleasure, Mack began spewing off-white goo in erratic strings across her chest. Emily felt the wetness on her flesh, and she tentatively wiped with one finger at a large glob as it slid slowly down the slope of her left breast. She rubbed her thumb and finger together; the semen felt a little slimy.

Mack climbed off the bed, and grabbed a couple of tissues. “Here,” he said, handing them to her. He used another tissue to wipe his cock, then he tucked it back into his boxer shorts.

Emily carefully wiped all of Mack’s cum from her breasts. Then she got up from the bed, walked quietly through to the living room, and pulled out from her bag the outfit she had worn first thing this morning. She was starting to feel the weight of guilt pressing down on her. She put her top and checkered skirt on, followed by her shoes.

Mack emerged from his room. “You okay?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I’m just going to go home and get ready for my dance lesson,” she said. “Thank you for, um, taking the photos.”

Mack grinned. “My pleasure,” he said. “And listen. I know you’re probably worrying about me using those photos against you – I don’t know, to blackmail you into having sex with me or something – but I just want you to know I’d never do that. I’d sooner delete everything and swear never to touch you again than have you think of me as a bad guy, or be afraid of what I’ll do. I want you to think of me as ‘safe’ ... because I am.”

Emily exhaled, realising that she had been holding her breath. “Thank you Mack,” she said. “That does make me feel better.”

“Enjoy your dance lesson!” he said. “I have no doubt you’re a beautiful dancer.”

She laughed. “Not really! But if I work hard, maybe one day ... it would be nice to be so. Goodbye, Mack.”

“Bye Emily!” he said.

She left the apartment, and then the building, and walked home. Both cars were missing from the driveway; apparently Jacob and Mary were both out. As she entered the Davis’s house, she called out, “Hello?” But there was no response; Paul must be out too.

In her room, she hung up her work clothes, then changed into the outfit she had chosen for her lesson with Diego: her denim microskirt, which he had shortened himself, and her sexy pale pink top with the strips of material that crossed over each other in front and left much of her breasts exposed. She was aware that Diego was accustomed to seeing Latin ballroom dancers in sexy, skimpy dresses like the one she had modelled in, but since she did not yet have her own such dress, she wanted to wear something of similar sexiness. This would have to do.

Putting her high heels on, she carefully descended the staircase, left the house, walked to the bus stop, and waited. But then a passing car suddenly slowed to a halt, then reversed until it drew up alongside her. To her relief and slight embarrassment, Emily saw that it was Jacob’s car. He lowered his window. “Hi!” he said. “You heading off to your dance class?”

“Yes,” said Emily, blushing. “Just waiting for the bus.”

“Want me to drive you there?” he asked. “It’s no trouble.”

“Yes please, that would be very kind of you!” said Emily. It would probably be safer than taking public transport in this outfit, at least.

She climbed into the passenger seat, and strapped herself in. As they set off, Jacob glanced down at her cleavage and bare thighs. “Amazing what you’re going out in these days,” he remarked. “Considering a week ago today you turned up at our house in...”

“It’s for dancing,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t normally go out like this.”

“Well, it’s a lovely outfit,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was being judgmental. You could wear that to church on Sunday if you wanted; I wouldn’t object.”

“Wow!” said Emily, startled. “Really? But it’s so ... revealing...”

“Have you forgotten my sermon already?” he asked her in amusement.

“No, of course not,” she said. “I guess ... it’s just quite a big mental shift for me. My parents would probably disown me if they saw me going out like this.”

“They’d get an earful from me if they did,” Jacob said sternly. “Robertines should prize family above modesty.”

Emily nodded. “Well I’m glad you’re so progressive,” she said. “It’s really quite wonderful.”

Jacob smiled. “Just following my conscience,” he said.

Emily directed him to the dance studio, but as they approached it, she quailed as she saw the sign outside and remembered the name of the place.

“Down and Dirty,” said Jacob, reading it aloud. “Interesting name.”

“It’s just an expression,” said Emily with a nervous laugh. “It’s really quite clean in there – the studio, as well as the dancing.”

Jacob chuckled. “Well I know Latin dancing can get quite steamy,” he said. “But I’m sure it’s all good clean fun. Anyway, enjoy your class; what time should I pick you up?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” she said.

“I don’t mind at all,” said Jacob. “Please – I’d feel better if I could get you home safely myself.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “The truth is, I’m not sure how long my lesson’s going to be...”

“Could you send me a text when you know?” Jacob suggested. “Oh ... do you have my cell number?”

“I don’t,” said Emily.

“I’ll give you mine and Mary’s,” said Jacob. “Want me to program them into your contacts?”

“Sure!” said Emily, switching her phone on and handing it to him.

He pulled up her contacts with the ease born of much practice, and deftly set himself up as a new contact. He was doing the same with Mary’s number when the phone vibrated, and a notification popped up at the top of the screen. “Oh, you have a text from ... Mack?” he said. Then, as Emily gasped in alarm, he peered closely at the thumbnail. “Is that ... you? Naked?”

“Oh!” said Emily anxiously, reaching out for her phone, but not assertive enough to actually grab it from Jacob. “I ... I can explain...”

Jacob finished entering Mary’s number, and hit ‘Done’. “Why is this ‘Mack’ sending you naked pictures of yourself?” He handed her the phone.

“It’s for Nathan!” said Emily, cringing with embarrassment. “Mack was taking photos of the two of us, and Nathan ... he was undressing me ... but then he had to rush off, and he asked Mack to take some more photos and send them to us...”

“Nathan left you alone with Mack, with instructions to take naked photos of you?” asked Jacob, puzzled.

“Yes,” said Emily in a small voice. She opened up the message Mack had sent, and to her relief saw that he had sent it to both her and Nathan. The photo, showing her hugging the corner of the hallway, was larger here, but she felt she needed to show Jacob evidence of her story. “Look,” she said. “Nathan got it too.”

Jacob stared at the screen. Just then, another photo came in; this one showed her lying on Mack’s bed. “Oh my!” he said. “Well, they’re very nice photos, and if Nathan trusts you and Mack enough to sanction a little photo shoot like this, then good for him! Anyway, it’s none of my business; I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable...”

Emily swallowed. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’ve gotten kind of used to being almost naked around your house now anyway...”

A third photo appeared on the screen, and Jacob’s eyes widened. “Oh!” he said. “Well that one’s a bit more...”

“Oh goodness!” said Emily in embarrassment, pulling the phone away from Jacob’s view. “I’m sorry!”

“No need to apologise!” said Jacob. “Like I said, it’s none of my business. You have a beautiful body and it makes me happy to see you growing confident enough to show it off. It’s no secret or surprise that Paul loves seeing you go about the house with next to nothing on, but in all honesty, Mary and I both enjoy it too. There’s something very pure and refreshing and wholesome about it. You’re like a lovely little gem in a bowl of pebbles... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t go on like this, making you uncomfortable. I’m just happy you joined our household.”

Emily was blushing to the roots of her hair, but she smiled happily at Jacob. “I’m glad you feel that way,” she said. “Being so unclothed at home ... well it feels so strange, given my upbringing. But it also feels very ... liberating, I guess. I never would have imagined that I would enjoy being around other people in nothing but a pair of panties ... yet I do. Anyway, I should get to my lesson...”

“Yes!” said Jacob. “You go. Text me with the time you want me to pick you up.”

“I will!” she promised. She got out of the car, and walked over to the front door of the studio. She stood aside to allow a young mother to exit with two preteen girls, and then, on a sudden impulse, she reached behind her head, and quickly unbraided her hair. Shaking it out and fluffing it up, she entered the studio.

“Emily!” said Rosita, waving from her desk. “Welcome back!”

“Hi!” said Emily, walking across the room. “How are you?”

“Oh, can’t complain!” said Rosita. “Diego’s just finishing up his last class of the day. Well, his second-last class, I guess! Nice shoes! Much better than last time.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “I’ll just wait for Diego, then.” She took a seat on one of the chairs by the wall, and put her bag in her lap. Taking out her phone, she saw that Nathan had replied to Mack’s texts.

‘Love the photos! Is that your bed, Mack???’

Emily was thinking of typing a response, but Mack beat her to it: ‘We were planning to use yours, but it was covered in crap!’

Emily shivered. She knew Mack was not being literal, but ‘covered in crap’ sounded like a wonderfully exciting adventure. Perhaps one with which Harry might be willing to help her out...

‘Are there any more?’ Nathan asked. Emily shivered. She hoped Mack would not give too much away about the other photos; in fact she did not even want Nathan to know any other photos existed ... yet. But she did not want Mack to lie, because if he did, she might have to contradict him later. She could not bring herself to lie to Nathan.

‘You want more?’ asked Mack. ‘Well heck, I don’t mind doing another photo shoot with Emily! This one was fun! How about it, Emily?’

She smiled. This was a good response. She typed, ‘I guess I don’t mind ... but only if Nathan wants me to.’

‘I don’t mind!’ Nathan followed this up with a grinning smiley. ‘These pics are awesome! Mack did a good job. Anytime you want to take more, Mack, fine with me! But only if Emily’s okay with it.’

‘Good to know!’

Emily shivered. So now he was actually encouraging her to spend more time naked with Mack. Would he be so cavalier about doing so if he knew what Mack had done with her? Of course he wouldn’t. She typed, ‘If it’s what you want, Nathan, then I guess I don’t mind posing for more photos. It’s kind of fun being a model...’

She could see Nathan beginning to type a reply, but at that moment, Diego appeared. “Hi Emily!” he said. “You ready?”

“Yes!” she replied, switching off her phone and putting it in her bag. She got up and followed Diego back to the room in which he had given her her first lesson. Closing the door behind her, he turned to her and smiled. “I like your outfit,” he said. “Let us begin with a salsa, shall we Emily?”

“Sure!” said Emily. “But first, can I ask how long this will take, please? I need to know when to ask Pastor Davis to pick me up.”

“One hour and one half,” said Diego. “If that is okay with you?”

“Sure!” said Emily happily. “I’ll just text him – hold on...”

Diego waited until she had put her phone away again, then he started a bouncy, relatively uncomplicated piece of music playing, and the lesson began. For the next half-hour he taught her, and made her repeat over and over, a number of steps and movements from both the salsa and cha-cha dance styles. Unaccustomed to dancing in heels, she stumbled a few times, but with Diego’s patient help, she soon learned to keep on her toes as she danced. Despite her anxiety about whether her skimpy top would manage to keep her breasts covered during the more energetic movements, neither breast escaped, though both bounced around enough for Diego to wryly comment on her lack of support.

“Sorry,” said Emily, blushing. “I just ... I wanted to wear something ... I mean, the dresses are very ... sexy...”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” said Diego. “I love it! It is actually quite a perfect top for showcasing your sexiness while avoiding a wardrobe malfunction. Why shouldn’t your boobs bounce around a little bit? They are big, and they are beautiful, and it would be I think a shame if you strapped them down and kept them tightly in place. I actually picked out a dress with you in mind; I can only hope it works as well with your chest as this top does.”

“A dress?” Emily asked, a little breathless from her exertions and also as a result of Diego’s candid talk about her breasts.

“Yes, a nice sparkly blue dress,” said Diego. “Want to see it?”

“Yes please!” said Emily.

He smiled. “It’s very skimpy, very sexy,” he said. “Is that okay with you?”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. She had no idea how sexy and skimpy ‘very’ meant, but she had already danced with Diego in just a blouse, panties and shoes, with no skirt on, and he had seen even more of her in their photo shoot together, so she thought she could probably handle any amount of skimpiness and sexiness.

Diego walked over to the table on which the CD player sat next to a grey polythene bag. Out of the bag he pulled a blue dress, which he brought over to Emily and held out toward her. “Here,” he said. “Try it on.”

Emily bit her lip. “Um,” she said, wondering if she should take the dress to the changing room, or if Diego was going to turn his back to let her change here.

He smirked. “Feeling shy?” he inquired. “Would you like me to leave the room while you change, or will you be okay if I just turn my back?”

Emily blushed. “I guess it’ll be fine if you just turn your back,” she said.

Diego turned around. “I hope it fits you,” he said. “It is a little difficult to account for the size of your chest, but I did my best.”

Emily had removed her skirt already, and now she took off her top. Picking up the dress, she pulled it over her head, and tugged it down over her breasts and belly. It was, indeed, very skimpy. While it was technically knee-length, this was only because of the long but slender panels coming down in front and at the back. At the waist in divided into two straps that narrowed even further as they went up over her breasts and then over her shoulders. At the back, they crossed over and then gradually widened as they went around her middle to join up with the front. This was her only side-coverage; the sides of her thighs, hips and chest were exposed, as were of course the sides of her thong, since the front panel was barely six inches wide. “Goodness!” she said. “What kind of panties am I supposed to wear with this?”

“It comes with matching panties,” said Diego, turning around. “Sorry, I forgot; they are in the bag. The skimpier dresses usually have matching panties, since it is inevitable they will be seen while dancing. It makes it look like the panties are just part of the dress.” He grinned. “I don’t know; I quite like the white with the blue – is that a thong?”

“Yes,” said Emily, blushing.

“We should make sure the panties fit, at least,” said Diego, walking over to the table in the corner. He pulled a pair of skimpy blue panties out of the poly bag, and brought them over to Emily. “Here – try them on.”

Emily took them, but hesitated. “Over my thong, or instead of?”

“Instead of,” said Diego. “Don’t worry, they are brand new – and yours to keep.”

“To keep?” Emily echoed. “Oh – how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing!” said Diego, grinning. “The same goes for the dress, now that I can see it is a good fit. I’ll make the case to Rosita that it is an investment for the studio. You don’t mind wearing this dress in your next photo shoot, do you?”

”Um,” said Emily, her cheeks turning red. “No, I guess I don’t mind. It’s a little skimpier than the other dress, but it’s very pretty.”

“Good!” said Diego. He turned around. “Let me know when you are ready,”

Emily slipped off her thong, and put on the panties. They were quite high-cut in the rear, exposing plenty of buttock, but they were not nearly as skimpy as her thong. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said. “They fit just fine.” In truth, they were a little tight, but not to the point of discomfort.

“Ah yes,” said Diego, turning around. “Now you really look the part. Shall we resume dancing?”

“Yes please!” said Emily, smiling.

“A sexy dress deserves a sexy dance,” said Diego, starting a new song. He pocketed his phone, then he took her in his arms. “Follow my lead.”

The song started out slowly, but Emily could almost feel the sultry heat of the tropics emanating from the speakers. Diego was holding her close, his arm around her waist, his hand on her shoulder, then sliding down to her breast. He spun her around, caught her, and dipped her, kissing her neck. Then he took both of her hands in his, backed off a step, and performed some complex footwork that she tried hard to mimic. Then she was back in his arms, and his hand was grasping her left buttock. He dipped her again, then pressed his lips to hers. She gasped as he drew away, but the dance continued. Caught up in the heady passion of the music, Emily made a few missteps, but it did not seem to matter; she was keeping pace with Diego, reacting instinctively to his movements, drinking in his power and control, and losing herself in his gorgeous dark eyes.

She gasped a little as he slipped his hand beneath the strap of her dress, grasping her right breast, but it felt like such a natural part of the dance that she did not break character even for a moment. She had become Emilia Francisco again, and Diego was her passionate Latin lover. The music, the heat, the movement, the eyes, the roaming hands, the energy, all had transported her to another world, another life.

And now he was kissing her, wildly, passionately, his tongue caressing hers, his hand kneading her breast. The right-hand strap of her dress had apparently come off her shoulder and was hooked around her elbow. He broke off from the kiss and bent his head down, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She gasped and threw her head back. Then he picked her up, seemingly without effort, and spun her around so that the walls of the room flew by dizzyingly. Setting her down, he slipped the left strap of her dress off her shoulder, and her dress fell until it was caught by her elbows. Diego gently took her hands as she swayed on the spot, and straightened her arms, so that her dress fell down to her wrists. He pulled it all the way down to her ankles, then he stood up straight and gently lifted her out of it. The dance continued, but now she was wearing just her sparkly blue panties and her high-heeled shoes. And she was loving it. How masterful he was! How skilfully and easily he had undressed her! She was in a state of almost delirious arousal, eager to find out what he would do next.

He twirled her around the dance floor, sometimes stepping away from her to admire her body while they performed synchronised footwork, but more often holding her close, fondling her breasts, kissing her, sinking his hands into the back of her panties to caress her buttocks, nuzzling her neck, stroking the small of her back...

And then the song ended. Both breathless, they stepped away from each other. “You were amazing!” said Diego. “I would not believe this was just your second lesson. You have come a long way in a short time!”

“I have a good teacher!” said Emily, flushed with excitement. “I still made lots of mistakes though ... and I seem to have lost my dress...”

He grinned. “Who needs a dress?” he said. “When you are as beautiful as you are?”

Emily blushed. “You’re too kind,” she said. As another song began, and Diego stepped towards her, she raised her arms in readiness to begin the next dance.

This time, the kissing started sooner, and Diego’s hands became even more adventurous. When he slipped his right hand inside the front of her panties, Emily uttered a muffled moan, and clutched at his wrist, but she did not pull too hard, and Diego took no notice anyway. Soon his fingers were sensuously massaging her pussy, and after a moment she released his wrist and simply put her arms around him as she kissed him with mouth open and eyes closed. Dimly, she was aware that he was pulling her panties down.

He lifted her up, then turned her horizontal as he lowered her down, until her shoulder blades and bare bottom connected with the polished floor. Deftly pulling her panties over her shoes and tossing them away, he began kissing a trail down her body, from her lips to her neck to her breasts and then down her belly. Finally he reached her pussy. Pulling her legs apart, he planted his lips on her vulva, sucking her clitoris into his mouth.

“Diego!” Emily squealed, and she tried to close her thighs, but his head was in the way. Gently he eased her knees apart again, and then he lifted them and pushed them back, giving him better access as his tongue ploughed the groove between her labia.

This was a new and unexpected experience for Emily, and she was thrilling to every electric second of it. Diego’s tongue was working magic on her – so soft and warm and wet and muscular and dexterous, squirming around her clitoris and ... ohhhh ... slipping inside her vagina... “Diego...” she whispered.

He sank two fingers inside her, and began to thrust them slowly in and out while sucking on her clitoris. This drove her to new heights of pleasure, and she arched her back and moaned loudly as her climax approached. But Diego took his time, bringing her to the brink and then easing off, building up again and then holding back, until she was almost ready to beg him to finish her off.

But then he did so, going all out, powerfully sucking on her clitoris while rapidly finger-fucking her, until she screamed in ecstasy, her body stiffening and shuddering uncontrollably. As she lay trembling in the aftermath, Diego crawled on top of her, smiling down at her and kissing her gently on the lips. Then she felt something warm and firm nudging against her pussy ... and then pressing into the opening of her vagina. In a panic, she reached down with her hand, and found herself grasping the shaft of Diego’s penis. “No Diego!” she gasped. “Please! I have a fiancé! And I’m a virgin!”

He smiled down at her. “Everyone needs to have a first time,” he said gently.

“Please...” she begged him. She knew she could not stop him ... did not really want to stop him ... if he continued despite her plea. She fully expected him to plunge his cock inside her ... and once he did so, that would be it; she would have betrayed Nathan.

But he apparently knew how to take no for an answer. “Very well,” he said. “You are loyal to your fiancé, and I respect that.”

He seemed disappointed, and Emily felt bad; he had just given her an amazing orgasm, and he was clearly in a state of considerable arousal himself. She bit her lip, then said, “I ... I could ... use my hand, to ... you know...?”

He smiled down at her. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Please,” she said, eager to ease his disappointment. “I want to.”

He chuckled. “Maybe I have a better idea. Since I used my mouth on you ... perhaps you could do the same for me...?”

Her eyes widened. “You mean ... a ... a blowjob?”

“You’ve heard of them, at least,” he remarked wryly.

“I ... I’ve never ... done that before,” she said anxiously.

“There’s nothing to it,” he said. “You just put it in your mouth, and suck on it like a popsicle, while moving it in and out. How about you give it a try?”

“I ... I don’t know,” said Emily, worried that this was perhaps more of a transgression than the hand-job she had given Paul.

He gave her a sympathetic smile, and nodded. “It’s okay,” he said. “A hand-job will be fine.”

‘Fine’ seemed like poor reciprocation for the amazing experience he had given her. “No,” she said. “I’ll do it. It’s only fair, right?”

He grinned, and nodded. Then he rolled off her, and lay down on his back.

Emily sat up, then got on to her knees next to him. He had unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, but his belt was still fastened. She stared at his erection for a moment. It was, she judged, about the same girth as Paul’s, but it was at least an inch longer, and unlike Paul’s or Mack’s, its bulbous head was covered with a sheath of skin. So this was what an uncircumcised penis looked like! She was not sure if she liked it.

But she did not want to offend, so she bent her head down, opened her jaws, and tentatively lowered her mouth over the end of Diego’s cock. Closing her lips around it, she began sucking on it, while letting it slide a little deeper inside her mouth.

“Ahh yes,” Diego murmured contentedly. “That’s good ... you can lick the end of it too – that feels nice...”

Emily swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock. It tasted a little salty, a little sharp, a little like the smell of pee. She wondered whether part of the taste came from herself, given that the end of his cock had just been pressing against her vaginal opening. As she continued to suck, bobbing her head up and down, the taste of Diego’s cock gradually diminished until, like a piece of well-chewed gum, it barely tasted of anything.

“Pump it with your hand while you’re sucking,” Diego instructed her, sounding a little breathless. “That will help.”

Emily did as he said, grasping his shaft and pumping it up and down in time with her head movements. She tried sucking a little harder, squeezing the head of his cock between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She was rewarded with a moan from Diego.

“Oh!!” he gasped. “That feels great – keep doing that!”

Emily’s jaw was getting tired, but fortunately Diego seemed to be approaching his climax. Suddenly he groaned, and jerked his loins, and Emily felt a rush of fluid gush over her tongue. It tasted salty, and she shivered, knowing she had his sperm in her mouth.

“Uhhhh!” Diego groaned. “Oh yeah ... swallow it down, Emily ... swallow my cum...”

She swallowed it, then pulled her mouth off, and watched his cock in fascination as she continued to hold it. After a moment, as Diego lay panting, she saw some more semen oozing out of the tip of his cock, so she bent her head back down, took it into her mouth, and resumed sucking and swallowing. Half a minute later, she sat up again.

“Thank you Emily!” said Diego, smiling contentedly. “That was unexpectedly ... great! You have seriously not done this before?”

“No!” said Emily. “But if I did it well, I’m glad. Now I’ll feel more confident about doing it for my fiancé.”

Diego chuckled, and nodded. “Well, now that we have, uh, taken care of each other ... shall we continue dancing? Or are you worn out?”

“I’m not worn out,” said Emily. “I’d love to keep dancing.”

Diego smiled again. Tucking his cock back into his trousers, he got to his feet, then held out his hand to Emily, who was just straightening up. “Shall we?”

“Um,” said Emily uncertainly, “you don’t want me to put something on...?”

“Why would I?” replied Diego with a smirk. “You are so beautiful this way.”

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said. And for the rest of her lesson, she remained naked but for her high-heeled shoes.

“Well, I guess our time is up,” said Diego eventually. He pulled Emily against him, his right hand in the small of her back and his left on her right breast, and kissed her softly on the lips. His tongue wormed its way into her mouth, and she hungrily sucked on it, moaning as he slid his hand down from her breast, past her belly, and on to her vulva, which he started to caress. Emily closed her eyes, melting into him, wondering why it was never like this with Nathan. She loved him, but ... this level of passion and eroticism was absent from their relationship.

Diego broke off from the kiss, but he was slowly massaging her clitoris as he murmured, “I would say ‘See you next week’, but I cannot wait that long. I would like to teach you twice a week, if I may. Can you do Thursdays as well as Mondays? It would have to be later though – say eight o’clock?”

“I ... yes, I think so,” said Emily breathlessly.

“Excellent,” said Diego, smiling. “I’ll see you then.” He stepped away from her, and Emily hurriedly put on her thong, skirt, and top.

“Bye Diego,” she said. “Thank you for the lesson.”

He grinned. “A pleasure, as always.”

Emily left the room, walked quickly to the front entrance, and exited the building. Jacob was already waiting for her.

“How was your lesson?” he asked her as she climbed into the passenger seat, inadvertently flashing her thong at him.

“Very good!” she replied.

“Must have been quite the workout; you’re as red as a stop sign,” he said.

Fortunately, no amount of blushing would have made any difference. “Yes,” she admitted. “It was pretty tiring.”

He drove her home, where dinner was already on the table. “You’re just in time!” said Mary with a smile.

“Do I have time to run to the bathroom?” Emily asked.

“Of course!” said Mary. “And shed some of those clothes, if you like.”

Emily shivered, and nodded. Then she bit her lip. “Um,” she said, “I don’t know if it’ll be okay or not, but I’m ... kind of ... wearing a thong...”

“Oh!” said Mary. “Well, that’s fine, dear. You have a lovely bottom; I doubt anyone’s going to mind seeing a little more of it.”

Emily nodded. She had expected this would be Mary’s answer, but had not wanted to assume. “All right then,” she said.

Upstairs, she went to the bathroom, then to her room, where she stripped down to her thong, before returning downstairs. Sitting down to eat, she looked at Paul’s empty chair, then said, “Where’s Paul?”

“At his friend’s house,” said Mary. “He was playing video games there, and they invited him to stay for dinner.”

“Paul’s never mentioned his friends,” Emily remarked in surprise. “I didn’t actually know he had any.”

“Well he doesn’t have many,” said Jacob with a heavy sigh. “And none of them are exactly close friends. This one’s name is Enis. His parents are from Bosnia, and ... well, let’s just say he’s not a popular kid. Neither is Paul, of course, but Enis is even more of an outcast. Most unfortunate...”

“He doesn’t have a lot of social skills,” Mary explained, “and, well...”

“He has a face that only a mother could love,” said Jacob bluntly.

“Awww, poor guy,” said Emily, feeling sorry for the boy already.

Mary nodded. “At least he’s got Paul,” she said.

After dinner Emily washed the dishes, then she went up to her room to spend some time on her phone. But she had a text from Sasha: ‘You still up for a visit to the gym?’ It had been sent half an hour ago.

Emily gasped. She had forgotten about this. ‘Oh gosh, I forgot!’ she texted back. ‘Am I too late?’

Sasha soon replied: ‘Nope! I can come and pick you up in about ten minutes if you like. Clive’s lending me his car.’

‘Okay! I’ll see you soon.’

Emily put her phone down. What should she wear? She had been thinking of wearing her new booty shorts for her next gym visit ... but did she really dare? Perhaps she should take her yoga pants as well, just in case she chickened out.

She packed her towel, shampoo, and shaving things into a bag, along with both her yoga pants and booty shorts, and her sports bra. Then she put on her denim cut-offs (not the really skimpy ones) and a tank top. Slipping her feet into her sneakers, she trotted downstairs and entered the living room.

“Oh!” said Mary. “You going out?”

“I’d forgotten, but yes,” said Emily. “Sasha and I are going to the gym.”

“Do you need a ride?” asked Jacob.

“No – thank you,” said Emily. “Sasha’s picking me up in a couple minutes. But ... um ... can I get your opinion on this outfit, please...? I know you’re generally okay with me wearing skimpy clothes, but...”

“It looks fine to me,” said Jacob.

“I ... I should probably show you the back,” said Emily, her cheeks reddening. As Jacob and Mary looked at her expectantly, she slowly turned her back on them.

“Oh!” said Mary.

“Ah,” said Jacob. “Well, goodness, yes that’s a little skimpy ... but you’re only going to the gym, after all...”

“Are you going to be working out in that?” Mary inquired.

“No, I’ve packed workout clothes,” said Emily. “This is just for the trip there and back.”

“Then I don’t really see an issue,” said Mary. “Hardly anyone will see you like that anyway.”

“Which begs the question,” said Jacob. “You could wear anything to the gym. Why that particular outfit?”

Emily bit her lip. “Well, Nathan bought me these shorts. He really liked how they looked on me in the store. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be brave enough to wear them out in public; this seemed like a pretty safe way to test that out.”

Jacob nodded. “Very sensible!” he said. “Just be careful in the parking lot at the gym. Make sure you park close to the entrance, and under a light if possible. There are unsavoury characters out there who might try to ... you know...”

Emily shivered. “I’ll be careful,” she said. “I’ll have Sasha with me, too.” The doorbell rang. “That’ll be Sasha. See you later!”

“Have fun!” said Mary.

“Thanks, I will!” said Emily. She went to the door, and opened it. “Hi Sasha!”

Sasha looked at Emily’s shorts, and grinned. “All right!” she said. “Good for you! You’re not planning on working out in those, though?”

“No, I’ve got another outfit here.” Emily held up her bag.

Sasha nodded. “All right, let’s go then.”

Emily climbed into Clive’s car, and Sasha drove them to the sports centre. Inside, they made their way to the women’s changing rooms, and Sasha, who was already in her workout clothes, waited outside while Emily was forced to choose between her yoga pants and her booty shorts.

She emerged, and Sasha chuckled. “Couldn’t bring yourself to show off your butt, huh?”

Emily blushed. “The shorts are just so ... tiny!” she whispered. “I’m sorry – I just got too scared at the thought of going in there so naked.”

Sasha nodded. “Maybe next time, then.” They walked to the fitness room, and Emily paused outside the door, looking in. There was Joey, looking as handsome and muscly as before, standing next to a bench press machine. He was talking to a young blonde woman in a skimpy bra top and a pair of yoga shorts that covered her bottom, but not much of her legs.

“Uh-oh,” said Sasha. “Looks like you’ll have some competition for Joey’s attention.”

“Oh hush,” said Emily, but she was eyeing the young woman with more than a little envy. “Ugh, she’s so pretty!”

“She is,” Sasha acknowledged. “I’ve seen her before. Joey just loves to give her one-on-one attention whenever her boyfriend isn’t here with her ... which I notice he isn’t, this evening.”

Emily made a small unhappy sound. “She’s so slim... Look at her butt!”

Sasha chuckled. “Honey, you have a couple of pretty attention-grabbing features yourself. But if you really wanna steal Joey away from Blondie there, you might wanna reconsider those booty shorts.”

Emily hesitated. “You really think he’ll like them?”

“Are you kidding? He’ll love them!”

Emily shivered. She had become quite used to showing off her legs – in fact she had come to enjoy doing so – but this was a step further than anything she had worn so far. Could she really walk into that room with half of her bottom showing? What would everyone think? What would Joey think? Would he be instantly drawn to her? Would he feel compelled to ... touch her?

“Okay I’ll go change,” she said.

“Go for it,” said Sasha, grinning. “Want me to wait out here for you, so you don’t have to walk in there on your own?”

“Would you?” asked Emily gratefully.

“Of course!”

Emily hurried back to the changing room, and swapped her yoga pants for her booty shorts. “I must be crazy,” she muttered to herself, as she felt her bottom anxiously. In truth her bottom was rather more than half-covered; not quite two inches of her buttock flesh was protruding below the leg seams of the shorts. This made them somewhat more revealing than her denim shorts, which her buttocks only just peeped out of.

She left the changing room, and rejoined Sasha. “Dressed to kill,” said Sasha with a grin. “Blondie’s got no chance now.”

Emily did not reply as she followed Sasha into the fitness room. She made for the treadmill, started it going, and jogged to stay in place. Her bouncing breasts did not take long to catch Joey’s attention, and while he continued to talk with the blonde woman, he kept glancing over at Emily. Eventually he appeared to excuse himself, and he sauntered over with a charming smile. “Hey there,” he said. “I remember you. Emily, wasn’t it?”

“Yes!” said Emily breathlessly. She stopped the machine, and stepped off. “Hi Joey.”

“I hope you stretched before you started running?” he said.

“No actually,” Emily replied with a guilty expression. “Sorry, I guess I should have done.”

“Well, it’s not too late,” said Joey cheerfully. “Need any pointers? Stretching for running is a little different from stretching for lifting weights, but I guess it depends what you intend to tackle next.”

Emily looked around. “Um, I’m not sure. What do you recommend?”

“Have you tried the rowing machine?” he asked. “It’s low-impact, so it’s easier on your joints, and it gives your arms, legs, pecs, back and abs a great workout.”

“Sounds perfect!” said Emily.

“Good!” said Joey. “Okay, well such a comprehensive workout requires an equally comprehensive stretching regimen. I can give you some pointers if you like, or I can take a more hands-on approach like I did last time – what we in the fitness community call ‘assisted stretching’. A lot of people find it very helpful, but if you’re confident you can go solo, with just a few hints to guide you, feel free.”

Emily’s nipples hardened beneath her sports bra. “I could probably benefit from your assistance,” she said, her cheeks burning.

He grinned. “Okay, well this isn’t the ideal place for assisted stretching, since you’ll be on your knees or on your back for some of the time, and this floor is a little hard for that. May I suggest we go to the yoga classroom instead? It has rubber exercise mats which will be a lot more comfortable for you. There’s no class right now so we’ll have the room to ourselves. We’ll do five to ten minutes of stretching, then come back here and introduce you to the rowing machine. How does that sound?”

Emily gulped. Being in a room alone with Joey sounded exciting ... but also a little scary. Did he have an ulterior motive in mind? Was he planning to grope her? Kiss her?

“Sure,” she said quickly, deciding not to allow herself enough time to change her mind. If he tried something, so what? She had already been fingered by several men less attractive than Joey, and she had loved it. Let him do his worst.

Her vagina moistening in anticipation, she followed him out of the room, past a surprised-looking Sasha who gave her a slightly hesitant thumbs-up. They walked down a corridor, and entered a room with a glass door. Joey fetched a mat, and laid it down on the floor. “Okay, why don’t you stand on that, and we’ll get started. Good. Let’s begin your arms...”

As he talked her through some arm stretches, Joey moved behind her and helpfully guided her arms into position. Emily shivered as she felt his strong hands grasping her shoulders and various parts of her arms. He remained very hands-on as they continued, and his touches did not remain limited to her arms. Soon he had his right arm around her waist as he bent her over sideways, his hand pressed firmly against her belly.

“I realise this is a little intimate,” he said apologetically. “The second you start feeling uncomfortable, just let me know about we can go straight back to the fitness room. Your comfort is my priority.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, already a little breathless.

“Now let’s have you on all fours,” said Joey, “and we’ll do some leg stretches.”

“Okay,” said Emily, and she got down on to her hands and knees.

“Now stretch your right leg back, holding it horizontal,” said Joey, “and I’ll help you lift it upward; this will stretch your thigh muscles and also work your lower back.” As Emily straightened her leg out, he caught it with both hands; his right hand on the outside of her leg, under her knee, and his left on the inside, under the top of her thigh, very close to her crotch. “Can you feel that?”

The muscles at the front of Emily’s thigh were being stretched to the point of discomfort. “Yes, definitely!” she gasped.

“Once again I must apologise,” said Joey, adjusting his grip so that the side of his left hand was nudging against her pussy. “This is also a little intimate. Are you okay so far?”

“Yes,” said Emily, after just a moment’s hesitation.

“Okay I’m going to bounce your leg up and down,” said Joey. “Small movements, designed to loosen up those muscle fibres.” He proceeded to do so, his strong arms effortlessly raising and lowering her leg, pivoting on her hip, with a frequency of about three times per second. This caused his left hand to rub rhythmically against her pussy, stroking it through her shorts and thong.

Emily closed her eyes. So far this was going exactly as she had hoped it might. But how far would he take it?

“I like your shorts,” said Joey conversationally, while continuing to bounce her leg. “Very sexy.”

“Thank you!” said Emily breathlessly.

“Not a lot of women would be brave enough to wear shorts like these,” Joey continued. “You’re lucky to have such a nice ass.” Emily said nothing in response to this, and Joey quickly changed the subject. “Okay, now we’re going to slow it up a bit, but make the movements bigger.” He began lifting her leg a little higher each cycle, while reducing the frequency to a little under two per second. His hand was pressing a little more firmly against her pussy, and Emily’s arousal was growing. “You still comfortable?” Joey asked.

“Yes,” Emily whispered.

“Okay, time to switch to the other leg,” he said, letting go of her.

Emily put her right leg down, and raised her left. Walking on his knees around to her other side, Joey caught her leg, this time with his left hand holding her knee and his right hand between her thighs, ostensibly holding her upper thigh but in reality doing little more than cupping her pussy through her shorts. Only his pinky finger was genuinely tucked beneath her thigh, and it was not taking on much of the lifting. As he began bouncing her leg up and down, his fingers rubbed at her pussy, and Emily bit her lip to keep herself from moaning.

After a minute or so, Joey murmured, “Now for the slow part.” Raising and lowering her leg with a greater amplitude but lower frequency, he was no longer supporting her thigh at all with his right hand, which was gently massaging her pussy in time with her let movements. “How does this feel?” he asked her.

“Good!” she gasped.

Joey smiled. “All right,” he said, his fingers now making sensuous circles around her clitoris, kneading her labia. “Let’s have you lying on your back now, and we’ll work those hamstrings.” He let go of her leg and pussy, and Emily turned over and lay on her back. Joey then took hold of her right leg, and lifted it high up, pressing it back against her torso as her knee bent involuntarily. “Keep that leg as straight as possible,” he instructed her. Then, while holding her leg back with his left hand, he placed his right hand on her pussy, and resumed massaging it through her tiny shorts. “How does that feel? Feel good?”

Emily arched her back a little. “Yes!”

After a minute, Joey lowered her right leg to the mat, and Emily raised her left leg. Joey pushed it back with his left hand, while continuing to stroke her pussy with his right. At length, he let her lower her left leg, and then he grinned. “Now lift your knees up, and push them out sideways. Really stretch those groin ligaments.” He was now pressing his middle finger firmly between her labia, rubbing her clitoris through two layers of material. Emily spread her thighs wide apart, and then she squealed as Joey slipped his hand inside the front of her shorts.

“Keep those knees wide apart,” he said, and then he bent down and kissed her on the lips. His tongue worked its way into her mouth, and found hers eager to respond.

Emily’s chest heaved as she breathed deeply through her nose, swirling her tongue around Joey’s. She uttered a muffled moan as she felt his middle finger sliding into her vagina, and dutifully kept her thighs widely spread.

But after a few moments, Joey was up on his knees, pulling hers together with a glint in his eyes. Grasping the sides of her shorts, he tugged them down her thighs, whisking them out from beneath her bottom. Emily gasped and made a grab for them, but Joey had already pulled them past her knees and down to her ankles.

“Joey!” she said in alarm, covering her bare pussy with one hand.

He chuckled as he extricated her shoes from her shorts and thong. “Mmmm,” he said, pulling her thong out and holding it up to his face. “I do love the smell of an aroused woman.” He pressed the garment to his nose, and inhaled deeply.

Emily stared at him anxiously. “Joey, someone might come in!”

“Which is why we need to be quick!” he said, pulling her knees apart again. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of his shorts, and pulled them down, revealing a modest-sized cock which sprang to attention as soon as it was free. Then he lay down on top of her.

“Wait!” Emily squealed urgently. “You can’t do that! I’m engaged! And I’m a virgin!”

Joey shrugged. “Cool!” he said. “A first-timer. Are you on the pill, at least?”

“No!” she said.

“Hmm,” said Joey. “Shame. Still, worth the risk, right?” He positioned his cock at the entrance to her vagina.

“No! No!” said Emily desperately.

Joey frowned. “If this isn’t what you wanted, why did you let it go as far as it did?”

Emily grimaced guiltily. “I ... it was fun,” she admitted lamely. “My fiancé is kind of okay with me kissing other guys and doing ... other stuff. But I can’t have sex with anyone but him.”

Joey smirked. “Sounds like you and your fiancé are playing with fire,” he said. “So he’s okay with me doing this...?” He reached down, and sank two fingers into her vagina.

“Um ... I think so,” said Emily awkwardly. “We haven’t discussed a lot of ... specifics.”

Joey laughed. “Ah, so you’re keeping a few secrets, then! Well, that’s no bad thing. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right? As long as you don’t actually have sex with me, you’re in the clear, yes?”

Emily found it hard to meet his eye. She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. “I ... I think maybe I want to go back to the other room.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile disappearing. “Look, I don’t want to cause any problems for you, Emily. But I do enjoy your company. If I can’t have sex with you, so be it. But we can still have fun, right? Will you at least think about coming back, and maybe getting some more ‘stretching tips’ from me in the future?”

“Maybe,” said Emily. “Can I have my shorts and thong back please?”

He fetched them, and was about to hand them to her when he grinned. Holding out the shorts to her, he said, “May I keep your thong as a memento? Just in case I never see you again?”

Emily shivered. “Then I wouldn’t have anything under my shorts,” she said.

He shrugged. “You don’t need anything under them. You’re fine just wearing the shorts. They’re dark; they won’t show dampness like a light-coloured pair would.”

Emily did not want to sit and argue the point while she was still bottomless. Wordlessly, she pulled her shorts on over her shoes, then quickly hauled them up her legs and around her nether regions. They felt different without a thong.

Joey stuffed her thong into his pocket, and stood up, tugging his shorts back up. He held out a hand to Emily, and helped her to her feet. Then he put his hands on her shoulders. “Listen, Emily,” he said. “You’re a super hot chick and I’d totally love to fuck you, but I one hundred percent respect your boundaries. I’m not gonna try and push you one way or another. You go finish your workout, and then go home, and think about what you want from me. If it’s sex, you got it. If it’s just making out and a little foreplay, I’m happy to oblige. If you decide you don’t want me to touch you at all, sure I’ll be bummed out, but I’ll respect that and leave you alone. The point is, you’re calling the shots. You got nothing to fear from me. I only want you to enjoy yourself here.”

Emily had winced a little at the f-word, but it had also sent a shiver through her body. The rest of the speech had sounded very reasonable and non-threatening, and for that she was grateful. “Thank you Joey,” she said. “I appreciate your ... candour. I guess I’ll need to think about ... some things.”

He nodded. Then he walked over to the door, and held it open. “After you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she replied. As she walked through the door, however, she gasped as he gave her right buttock a light spank with his hand. She turned to him with a shocked expression.

But he merely grinned. “You can’t expect me not to be just a tiny bit naughty, though, in the presence of such extreme hotness.”

She blushed, and walked quickly back to the fitness room without saying another word. Entering, she spotted Sasha on the treadmill, but she was not sure what she was going to say to her friend, so she merely went over to the rowing machine, and sat down upon it. As she began to row, pushing with her feet and pulling with her arms, Joey came over with a slight smirk. “Good,” he said. “Make sure you keep your back straight. And fully extend your legs each time. That’s it.”

“Thanks,” she puffed.

“Have fun!” he said, and he walked off to talk with a young man lifting dumbbells. Emily found it somehow reassuring that he was still willing to give her instruction on good technique, despite the awkward end to their intimate encounter.

A few minutes later, Sasha came over. Emily stopped rowing, and got up from the machine. “You’ve got some explaining to do!” Sasha remarked.

Emily blushed. “Nothing much happened,” she said uncomfortably.

“Uh-huh,” said Sasha. “Come on, I think we should call it a night.”

As they walked to the changing rooms, Sasha was staring at her. “Have you, like, become a slut or something in the past few days?”

Emily gasped. “Sasha!” she said reproachfully.

Sasha shrugged. “Well? What happened with Joey?”

Emily dropped her eyes to the floor. “I ... I don’t want to say...”

“Did he force himself on you?” Sasha inquired.

“No!” said Emily. “Nothing like that.” She took a deep breath. “Nathan seems to like it when I kiss other guys, and show them ... you know ... my body. He even likes to hear about other men groping me. I don’t know why. But ... it’s kind of fun to do that, and then ... tell him about it...”

Sasha burst out laughing. “Oh my God!” she said. “Well that’s what repressed sexuality will do for you, I guess. Clive would kill me if I kissed another ... I mean, not literally. But he’d be super upset and would probably dump me. I guess you lucked out, though! He really doesn’t mind you fooling around with other men? Holy shit.”

“Please don’t tell him I told you that, though,” said Emily hastily. “Or Clive. Or anyone.”

“Of course not,” said Sasha carelessly. “I just think it’s kinda weird and crazy. You seemed so straight-laced when you first showed up! And now look at you!”

“A lot’s happened in the past week,” Emily conceded.

“So is Nathan okay with you fucking other guys too?” Sasha asked.

“Language!” said Emily. “But no – of course not. I’m saving myself for him; that’s understood. My first time will be with him, on our wedding night.”

Sasha nodded. “Well I guess there’s plenty of scope for fun anyway,” she said. “Good for you, I guess! Enjoy it while it lasts. You never know when Nathan will come to his senses and develop a jealous streak.”

“If he does, then obviously I’ll respect that and not let another man near me,” said Emily. Then she giggled. “I hope he doesn’t, though; this has honestly been, by far, the most exciting week of my life! Ever since I started wearing more skimpy clothes, men have been all over me! They all seem to want to touch and kiss me; it’s crazy!”

Sasha chuckled. “Welcome to the real world,” she said. “Most girls learn pretty early to play hard to get, to keep guys at arm’s length, and only let their guard down with someone they really trust. Looks like you never learned that lesson. I just hope you don’t get yourself into any trouble.”

Emily pursed her lips. “It’s just nice to feel ... desirable, I guess. But maybe I shouldn’t be ... having quite so much fun...”

“Screw that!” retorted Sasha. “You have all the fun you want, Emily, for as long as you can. I envy you! Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Emily smiled. “I do hope it lasts a while yet!” she confided. Then she added, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Joey still has my thong!”

Sasha gasped. “You naughty thing!”

Emily giggled again. “I am,” she confessed. “I’m so naughty!”

Sasha just laughed, and shook her head in disbelief. “Well I guess those booty shorts paid off for you. Are you going to wear them again next time?”

Emily shivered. “Definitely,” she said.

In the shower, Emily shaved her armpits, legs, and pussy, so that she would not have to have another shower later. It was her first time fully shaving her pussy, and it was trickier than she had expected; she sustained a little bit of razor burn in a couple of different places before she was done.

By the time she rejoined Sasha in the lobby, her friend was looking rather impatient. “You okay?” asked Sasha.

“Yes,” said Emily, blushing. “I ... I was ... shaving...”

“In the shower?” asked Sasha. “Huh – well okay then. I’ll just have to remember to bring a book next time.”

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” said Emily, abashed.

Sasha chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s get you home.”

They left the building, and got into Sasha’s car. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Sasha said, “I guess you need to buy a new thong, huh?”

Emily nodded. Then her face fell. “Oh goodness – I’ll need one for tomorrow! I can’t wear regular panties with my work skirt – it’s too tight!”

“So?” said Sasha with a shrug. “You’ll have panty-lines. Big deal.”

“But I don’t want to make a bad impression on my second day!” Emily exclaimed.

“Well Figure’s closed now,” said Sasha. “Walmart’s open though – want to stop by there?”

“Sure!” said Emily. “If you don’t mind...?”

“Nope, not at all,” said Sasha. “It’s not far out of our way.”

“And they have thongs?” asked Emily. “I’ve never been to a Walmart...”

Sasha glanced over at her. “Walmart has everything,” she said. “You’ll see. Jeez, how have you managed to go through life without ever going to a Walmart?”

Emily shrugged. “We don’t have one in Oakwood.”

She had, however, heard of Walmart, and while she was expecting it to be big, she had not been prepared for quite how big it was. “This place is enormous!” she gasped, as they entered.

“Yeah, well don’t get carried away exploring,” said Sasha. “You have a mission.”

Emily nodded, and looked around. She quickly spotted a sign for women’s clothing, and after a short walk, she found herself in the lingerie section. Here she found not just one but several different styles of thong, all available in a variety of colours. Some came in packs of three, five, six, ten, or even a dozen ... but there was one problem. The multi-packs all included multiple colours, whereas she wanted to stick with just white. She mentioned this to Sasha, who rolled her eyes.

“Branch out!” she said. “Live a little! Try something other than white.” But a couple of minutes later, she called Emily over. “Here, how about this? Stretchy lace low rise thong – five pack, all white.”

“Lace?” said Emily. “Hmm – okay! They look nice. Thank you!”

She bought the thongs, they left the store, and Sasha drove Emily back home. As she got out of the car, Emily turned around and smiled. “Thanks Sasha – have a good night.”

“You too, honey,” said Sasha, smiling back. As soon as Emily had closed the door, she drove off.

Emily went inside the house, and entered the living room. “I’m back!” she said.

“Welcome home, dear,” said Mary. “Paul’s upstairs in his room; I think he’s hoping you’ll look in on him before you go to bed.”

“Of course!” said Emily. “I wouldn’t go to bed without saying goodnight to him.”

“And giving him a kiss?” added Jacob with a wry smile.

“Well, yes,” said Emily, blushing. “He does like his goodnight kisses.”

“I’m sure he does,” chuckled Jacob. “Well, goodnight Emily.”

“Goodnight Jacob! Goodnight Mary.” Emily smiled warmly at them, then she left the living room, and trotted upstairs. In the bathroom, she got herself ready for bed, then she took off her shoes, tank top, and denim shorts. Retrieving a clean pair of white panties from her drawer, she put them on, then left her room and walked across the landing to knock on Paul’s door.

“Come in!”

Paul grinned happily as Emily entered. “Wanna play a game?” he asked. “It’s kinda late, so if you just want to skip to our goodnight kiss...”

“Can we maybe watch something on TV?” asked Emily.

“Well ... sure!” said Paul in surprise. “What do you wanna watch?”

Emily had been thinking about this for some time. “I’d really like to see the Marvel movies,” she said. “You know, about the superheroes?”

“You haven’t seen those?” asked Paul, his eyes wide.

“They’re kind of frowned on, back home,” said Emily ruefully. “I’ve seen plenty of movies – we had a theatre in town, and a DVD player at home – but our church council tends to ban certain kinds of movies that it considers ‘ungodly’ ... generally anything featuring magic or superpowers or evolution or taking animals or anything like that.”

Paul laughed. “Wow, I didn’t realise Oakwood was that strict about such things. But yes! Heck yes. Let’s start with Iron Man!”

“Okay!” said Emily.

They watched Iron Man, and Emily loved it.

It was after midnight when they finished. “You go off back to your room,” said Paul. “I’ll go get ready for bed, and I’ll see you there in a couple minutes.”

Emily nodded, and returned to her room. Climbing into bed, she waited with a growing tingling sensation in her loins. Her vagina was lubricating in anticipation of its likely imminent penetration by Paul’s fingers. After a moment’s internal deliberation, she reached down beneath the sheet, and tugged her panties down, raising her knees so that she could pull the garment off entirely. She tossed it on to her chair.

She bit her lip. Then, in a sudden fit of apprehension, she clambered out of bed and hurried over to her chair to retrieve her panties. Putting them back on, she climbed back into bed. Paul, surely, did not need any further encouragement.

He knocked, then entered. She smiled nervously at him, and watched him approach her bed. His erect cock was forming a prominent lump in his boxer shorts.

Seeing her looking at it, Paul stopped next to her bed, hesitated for a moment, then pulled his boxer shorts down. As he stepped out of them, now fully naked, he gripped his cock with his right hand. “You ready for some of this?” he asked playfully.

Emily swallowed nervously. Then she pulled back her sheet, revealing her own almost-naked body.

Paul smiled as he looked at her. “Awww,” he said. “You’re beautiful, Emily, as always, but this is how I get to see you all the time. Let’s see you without those panties.”

Emily shivered. It seemed like a reasonable request, though, since Paul was naked too. And he was right; ‘nothing but panties’ was her regular outfit in this house now. Grasping the sides of her panties, she pulled them down again, bending her knees so she could take them off completely. Once more, she tossed them over to her chair ... but this time she missed, and they fell on the floor.

Paul helpfully picked them up, and placed them on the chair. Then he climbed into Emily’s bed, and lay down next to her. He reached down, and cupped her pussy with his hand. “You’re so beautiful, Emily,” he said in a rather husky voice.

“Um ... thank you,” said Emily, reddening. She felt it would be impolite not to say something similar in response, but she was not quite sure how to balance honesty with tact.

“You don’t have to tell me I’m handsome,” he replied, smirking. “I know I’m not, and it’s fine. You can even tell me I’m ugly, if you want. It’s true enough, but it doesn’t matter, because I get to feel the pussy of a beautiful girl every night.” He slid his middle finger between her labia, and began to gently rub her clitoris.

“You’re not ugly,” replied Emily in a reproachful murmur. “Don’t put yourself down.”

“I do have awful acne, though,” he pointed out.

It was true. A large yellow zit, swollen with pus, bulged next to the base of his nose, and it was merely the largest of several that were clearly squeezable. Emily tried not to look at any of them. “Here’s the thing about acne, though,” she said. “It eventually goes away. Your biggest issue isn’t permanent. There’s a handsome face lurking under there, Paul. It’s just waiting to emerge.”

“You really think so?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” said Emily firmly. “Now give me a kiss.”

He did so, and as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, he climbed on top of her, pressing first one knee and then the other between hers. Emily resisted a little, but as he settled his weight upon her and she felt his cock pressing against her pussy, she reluctantly allowed him to pull her knees up and outward. Once he was lying firmly between her thighs, she resigned herself to the inevitable, and wrapped her legs around his back. Then she moaned softly as he began to thrust his cock back and forth, so that it sank between her labia and rubbed against her clit.

But then she winced. Paul’s relatively dry shaft was rubbing against her shaving burns in a rather painful way. “Wait ... stop,” she gasped, grimacing as she pulled her mouth away from his.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “it’s me. I shaved this evening, and I guess I didn’t do a great job. I’ve got some ... sensitive spots ... and you’re kind of ... hurting them.”

“Oh no!” said Paul. “I’m sorry – I didn’t realise. Should I go get some lubricant?”

She stared up at him. “What lubricant?” she asked.

“I dunno,” he said, “I’ve just read that using lubricant during sex reduces friction and makes it less painful.”

“Well we’re not having sex,” she pointed out. “But, I guess, lubricant would be nice – if you had any.”

Paul grinned. “We have baby oil in the bathroom,” he said. “Would that work?”

Emily pursed her lips. “Maybe, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” she said nervously. “What if you ... you know ... slipped...?”

“I promise I won’t let my cock go inside you,” he assured her. “But if some baby oil would make this more comfortable for you, then let’s use it! I want you to enjoy this at least as much as I do.”

Emily paused, then nodded. “Okay,” she said.

“I’ll be right back!” said Paul excitedly. He climbed off her, got up from the bed, and rushed out of the room, still naked and with his erect cock bouncing around ahead of him.

Emily fidgeted whole she waited. This felt ... dangerous. But her shaving burns were smarting, and having them gently rubbed with baby oil actually sounded quite nice.

Paul returned, and he was still fully erect. With a sly grin, he opened the bottle of baby oil in his left hand, and poured some into his right. Then he slathered it over his cock, and Emily watched in fascination as he slowly slid his slippery hand up and down the shaft and bulbous head until the whole fleshy column was glistening.

Then he came over to Emily’s bed, sat down on its edge, and folded back the sheet, uncovering her pussy. Taking her knees, he pushed them back and outward again, making her whimper in protest and cover her pussy with her hand. But he gently removed her hand, poured some more oil on to his palm, and then drizzled it over her soft vulva. She gasped as he started rubbing it in.

“What a pretty sight,” he said with a happy sigh.

“It’s very embarrassing to have you looking at me down there,” said Emily plaintively, as she tried to pull her knees back together, only to have them pushed apart again by Paul. “You know Nathan hasn’t even seen this much of me?”

Paul nodded. “I bet he hasn’t rubbed oil into your pussy either.”

“He hasn’t even touched it!” said Emily, and she groaned. But the oil on her pussy felt nice, and she stopped trying to close her thighs.

Paul stopped rubbing, and lay down on top of her. “Let’s kiss,” he said.

They kissed, and he began to thrust his slippery cock along the groove between her equally slippery labia. Emily wrapped her legs around him again, and he reached up with his right hand to squeeze and knead her left breast. After a minute or so, he lifted his head away from hers. “Does that feel any better?”

“Much!” she gasped. In truth, the sensation of Paul’s cock thrusting against her clitoris felt so good it was almost magical, enhanced as it was by the thrill of the naughtiness of what they were doing. They were almost having real actual sex; this was the position in which couples did it, and Paul was one slip away from plunging his cook inside her. The thought was terrifying, but also intensely exciting. And so her arousal grew, and grew...

“Ohhh ... Paul ... I’m getting close!” she whispered breathlessly. “Can you put your fingers in me please?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something else inside you?” Paul whispered in her ear. “Something better?” He reached down between them, grabbed his cock, and guided its tip downward to her vagina.

Emily felt her sacred opening start to expand around his engorged glans. “Paul, no!” she squealed. “You promised!” But her body was yearning for him to break that promise.

He chuckled. “Just kidding,” he said, sliding his cock back up between her labia. He slid two fingers inside her, and began thrusting them in and out.

It did not take long before Emily was shuddering and moaning in a delicious orgasm, which Paul prolonged by continuing to slide his fingers against her g-spot for the next minute or so. Then he withdrew them, and resumed thrusting his cock against her clit. This was nice, but not quite enough to get him to his own climax. “Man, I wish I could cum inside you,” he sighed.

Emily was feeling very satisfied, and grateful to Paul both for that and for the fact that he had kept his promise. “You can ... you can cum in my mouth if you want,” she panted.

“Seriously?” he asked in surprise. When she nodded, he quickly crawled up her body, planting his knees either side of her, until he was straddling her chest. Then he leaned forward, placing his left hand on her pillow, and began to pump his cock just inches above her face.

“I can do that,” she said, and as he let go, she took over, grasping his shaft and sliding her hand up and down it. Then she took the swollen head into her mouth, and began to suck.

“Oh! Ohhh ... wow!” Paul gasped.

But she stopped, grimacing. “Ugh – baby oil!”

Paul hastily reached over to her bedside table and yanked a tissue out of the box. “Here!”

She took it, and wiped off as much baby oil as she could. His cock still taster a little oily after that, but it was better. She sucked, and sucked, until Paul groaned and began to spurt his semen deep into her mouth. Shivering at the familiar salty taste, she swallowed it down, then kept sucking, knowing it would continue to ooze out for a little while yet.

A couple of minutes later, she was still sucking, for no other reason than that she found she was enjoying it. Giving blowjobs, she had decided, was fun. But now Paul’s cock was getting soft, and much smaller, so she stopped. Paul flopped down next to her, and threw his arm across her belly. “Wow Emily, that was fantastic,” he murmured. “Just think – your first blowjob! And you were so good at it!” He sighed. “My first blowjob too. I’d never have imagined I’d get one from a beautiful woman like you.”

She did not have the heart to correct him about it being her first. “I’m glad you liked it,” she said. “I did too – it was fun.”

“So we can do it again?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure,” she replied.

He slid his hand down her abdomen to her pussy. “Can I stay here awhile, and stroke your pussy while you fall asleep?”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to fall asleep if you’re doing that,” she said, “but sure. Just don’t stay here all night; I wouldn’t want your parents to catch you in here tomorrow morning.”

“No,” Paul agreed. “Are we running again together in the morning?”

“Of course,” she said. “If you want to.” She reached across behind his head, and switched her light off.

“Absolutely,” he replied. He smiled in the darkness. “You should try wearing a pair of your white panties instead of your running panties. Nobody would know the difference unless they looked closely.”

She shivered. “Paul, that would be crazy. I can’t go outside with nothing but panties on my bottom half!”

“But it would be fun and exciting,” he murmured, sliding his middle finger inside her. “And you would totally get away with it.”

It was indeed an exciting idea. “We’ll see,” she whispered. She was actually tempted to do as he suggested ... but then, she was still hyped up on naughtiness and arousal. Tomorrow morning, in the cold light of day, she would no doubt come to her senses.

She slowly drifted off to sleep with Paul’s finger inside her, having completely forgotten to say her prayers...

DAY 8 – TUESDAY

When her alarm awoke her, to her relief, Paul was gone from her room. But the memory of last night’s events ... indeed, several of yesterday’s events ... made her shiver and bite her lip. How crazy her life was becoming ... but how exciting! She had never had such a series of intense and amazing experiences in such a short space of time. It was wild ... and exhilarating...

She got out of bed, smiling when she noticed that she was naked. She had never slept completely naked before. What a naughty girl she was!

Her bowels felt very full, and she rubbed idly at her clitoris, her arousal increasing in anticipation of another panty-pooping adventure with Harry. How awesome it was to have a willing partner in her messy crimes! Granted, he was an old man and not attractive, but there was something perversely pleasurable about letting him squish her poo around her pussy and stick his gnarly fingers into her vagina.

She picked up her panties from her chair. Paul wanted her to run in these. Could she really get away with it? She shivered. It seemed like such a foolish and scary idea ... so why did it appeal to her so much? Stepping into them, she pulled them up around her loins. Then she put on her sports bra, followed by her sneakers. Standing in front of the mirror, she regarded her outfit nervously. Could she really bring herself to go out and run like this?

She picked up her running briefs, and held them up in front of her panties. The cut was similar, but the panties were undeniably smaller and flimsier-looking, with a much lower waistband. Nobody who saw the two garments together could possibly mistake one for the other. But nobody would be seeing them together...

She tossed the running briefs aside. She would try it, she decided. If she had any scary encounters, that would decide the matter for the future ... but Paul would be with her, and if nothing bad happened, it would certainly be quite a thrill to be so exposed in public.

Picking up her phone, she saw she had a couple of messages from Nathan. The first read: ‘Hi Babe – miss you! My job interview went pretty well today, I think, but I probably won’t know for a day or two whether I got it. Hope you had a fun evening.’ It was timed at eleven-thirteen; she had been watching Iron Man at the time he sent it. She felt a little guilty about not having checked her phone before bed.

The second message, sent a minute after the first, was ‘Got any more sexy photos you can send me...?’ She shivered. She was not sure she wanted to send him any of the more explicit photos Mack had taken, and in any case Mack had not yet sent them to her. Perhaps she could get Paul to take some more.

She brushed and braided her hair, then she left her room, went to the bathroom, and started to pee. But then she had to clench, as her poo tried to come out as well. Clutching the sides of the toilet seat, she grimaced and squeezed her buttocks together, forcing her poo back in. As the pressure subsided, she resumed peeing.

Having wiped, and flushed, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Then she went to Paul’s room, and tentatively knocked on his door.

He opened it, already dressed for running. “Good morning!” he whispered. “You ready?”

“Yes,” she replied.

He looked down at her panties. “Oh! Yes! Good girl, well done – I’m proud of you!”

She giggled quietly. “Okay, let’s go before your parents hear us.”

They left the house, and walked down the road to the start of the trail. Emily felt extremely exposed, but luckily they did not meet anybody on the way. Paul pulled his phone out of his pocket, and started the RunTime app. “Okay,” he said, sighing heavily. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Half a mile, okay?” said Emily. “You can do it, Paul; just start slowly.”

Paul nodded. “Ready, steady, go!” He hit the ‘Start Run’ button, and set off at a rather slower pace than the day before.

They soon spotted another runner, a young man jogging in the opposite direction, who stared at Emily’s panties with wide eyes for a long moment, before looking up at her face and giving her a slightly eager smile before passing her by. Emily giggled.

A little while later she noticed that Paul seemed to be flagging. “Come on, you can do it,” she encouraged him. “It’s only half a mile. We must be getting pretty close to that already, right?”

He glanced at his phone, then held it up for her to see. It said ‘0.34 miles’, although this quickly changed to ‘0.35 miles’.

“Keep it going,” she said. Then she added playfully, “If you can make it to three quarters of a mile, I’ll take my top off.”

His face, red and sweaty, brightened at this news, and he briefly put on a spurt of speed. This was a mistake, of course, and he soon slowed back down again. At half a mile, however, he was still going, his face set with dogged determination.

“Well done!” said Emily. “Looks like I might have to be topless out here!”

Paul grimly soldiered on, panting heavily, sweat running down his forehead and on to his zit-infested cheeks. “If I ... do a mile,” he puffed, “will you ... gimme ... a blowjob?”

Emily gasped at his audacity. “Maybe!” she replied, after a moment’s thought. It did sound like fun, but she did not want to commit to it in case there were other people around.

By 0.75 miles, Paul was barely stumbling along, and at 0.83, he slowed to a walk, then stopped. “Sorry!” he gasped, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. “I really tried!”

“You did great!” said Emily. “You did more than three quarters of a mile, and game pretty close to a full mile! You should feel very proud of yourself.”

“Oh, I really wanted that blowjob though!” he groaned.

“Well at least you get to see me topless,” said Emily lightly, as she glanced around to make sure nobody else was visible. They were into the woodland portion of the trail at this point, and the trees provided good coverage from anybody who was not too close by. Emily pulled her sports bra up and over her head.

Paul looked up, and grinned. “A familiar ... but very welcome sight,” he panted. “Thank you.”

Emily smiled. “Can you believe I’m actually out in the woods in just my panties and shoes?” she asked. “I feel so ... naked!”

Paul nodded. “It’s awesome,” he said. “You are ... without question ... the sexiest woman in this city.”

Emily blushed. “Hardly,” she said, “but thank you.”

Paul straightened up. “I’m serious!” he said. “Have you seen any other women leaving their houses in a sports bra and panties? Who does that? Nobody! Nobody except you. I’m telling you, Emily ... you’re like the Goddess of Beauty and Sexiness. No other woman is as hot as you. And I can’t believe how lucky I am to not only know you, but get to touch that amazing body of yours, and kiss your sweet lips, and stick my fingers in your lovely pussy. I don’t know what heaven’s like, but I have a hard time believing it’s better than this!”

“Oh hush,” said Emily, blushing bright red. “You shouldn’t say such things. But I’m glad you feel that way; it makes me feel ... special.”

Paul smiled sheepishly. “Just being honest,” he said. “You ARE special. Particularly to me.” He hesitated, looking suddenly a little bashful. “Emily, I’m sure this doesn’t come as a surprise to you, but ... I’m completely in love with you.”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “Oh!” she said, aghast. “Oh Paul...”

“It’s okay!” he hastily assured her. “I don’t expect you to say the same to me, or anything like that. I know I don’t have a hope of marrying you, or stealing you away from Nathan ... and that’s absolutely fine. Heck, I have Nathan to thank for bringing you into my life! I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate and care about you. I’d ... I’d literally do anything for you, Emily...”

Emily felt tears coming to her eyes. “Awww Paul!” she said, walking over to him with her arms spread wide. She planted her lips on his, and although he was still out of breath, he kissed her eagerly, swirling his tongue around hers. But all too soon, he had to come up for air. “Sorry!” he panted. “Still a little winded.”

She smiled at him. “Well I don’t care if you didn’t quite make the full mile,” she said. “Would you like a blowjob anyway?”

Paul’s face lit up. “Yeah!” he said. “Yes please!”

“Keep a watch out for hikers and runners,” she said, sinking to her knees. Fortunately the ground just here was bare earth, with a bit of a spring in it. She pulled Paul’s gym shorts halfway down his thighs, reached into his boxer shorts via the hole in the front, and pulled out his cock, which was almost fully erect already. Shuffling her knees forward a little, she guided the bulbous head into her mouth. Closing her eyes, she began to suck, while bobbing her head and pumping his shaft in synchronous movements.

“Ohhh Emily...” Paul sounded almost reverent. “You’re wonderful at this...”

Neither of them heard the stomping of approaching feet until it was too late; both were wrapped up in their own little worlds. But then Emily squealed and looked up to her right, to see a middle-aged man bearing down on them, barely twenty yards away.

“Don’t mind me!” he said cheerfully as he drew nearer. “Life’s for living!”

Paralyzed with alarm and indecision, Emily did not even pull her mouth off Paul’s cock. And since it did not appear that they were in trouble, she resumed sucking as soon as the runner was out of sight – feeling a little shaken, but not deterred from her mission. She was a little annoyed with Paul for not sounding a warning, but she was also still feeling very fondly towards him on account of his little speech ... and she very much wanted to swallow his cum as a way of expressing her appreciation. Plus, she just really liked sucking his cock.

“Sorry,” Paul said guiltily. “He just appeared so suddenly...”

Emily did not respond, except to shrug her shoulders a little. But then disaster struck. An overwhelming urge to defecate suddenly gripped her bowels, and her anus began to open up as a thick turd started to force its way out. Horrified, she began pumping Paul’s cock faster, while desperately trying to close her anus again. But it was no good, and to her abject shame and mortification, her poo determinedly slithered out of her rectum and into her flimsy white panties.

“Ohhh ... ohhh ... yes, I’m getting close...” gasped Paul.

There was nothing to do but keep sucking; she could not stop her accident now, however hard she tried. So she stopped fighting it, and simply let her poo flow out, curling around in her panties and piling atop itself, spreading out and sinking downward, pushing out the white material into an increasingly huge bulge, filled to bursting with soft, smelly, squishy excrement.

Paul caught a whiff of it moments before, with a groan and a shudder, he ejaculated into Emily’s mouth. Emily dutifully swallowed, and kept sucking and swallowing, for the next minute or so, by which time she had finished her poo, her panties were almost falling down under the weight of it, and Paul was frowning in puzzlement.

“Did you...” he began, but he got no further, as Emily pulled her mouth off his cock and turned tragic eyes up towards him.

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted out. “I couldn’t stop it!”

Paul stared down at her. “Stop ... what? Did you just...”

“I had an accident!” groaned Emily, putting her face in her hands. “It’s my new cereal – it’s really good for my digestion and my bowels, but it ... it makes kind of a huge amount of poop ... and sometimes it ... unexpectedly...”

Paul tucked his wilting penis back inside his underwear, pulled up his gym shorts, and walked around behind Emily. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Like ... literally! Good heavens, Emily, that’s ... have you been like holding it in for ... days?”

“No,” she said, getting to her feet and turning towards him. “I went yesterday morning. It just ... it seems to build up again really quickly. It’s strange...”

Paul shook his head in disbelief. “Well heck, Emily, I’m sorry this happened to you ... and so far from home! Oh my Lord – what are we going to do? Can you dump it out behind a tree or something...? Cover it up with leaf litter?”

Emily bit her lip. While she thought about how to respond, she put on her sports bra. “Um,” she said, “I don’t think I’d feel good about dumping it out on the ground, in the middle of nature, next to a hiking trail. I’d rather just get home and dump it in the toilet where it belongs.”

Paul stared at her. “But how will you get there?” he asked. “We have to go back along Hubert Road! What if cars pass us?”

Emily clasped her hands together, staring down at the ground. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe if you could ... shield me...? Or something?”

Paul thought about this, and nodded. “Well, if you really want to walk home with poop in your panties, then of course I’ll do what I can to keep you hidden. But that’s still ... that’s very brave of you!”

Emily smiled ruefully. “I’ve had to develop a pretty healthy brave streak, this past week,” she said.

“I guess you have,” Paul conceded. “I mean, walking along the street with your panties showing ... that must take a lot of guts. Even so, doing that with poop in your panties is a whole other level!”

Emily blushed. “I guess so,” she said. “But you’ll keep me safe, right?”

Paul puffed out his chest. “You bet I will,” he said. “And ... by the way ... thank you for the blowjob. It was ... amazing.” Then his brow furrowed. “You ... you must have pooped in your panties during ... oh my gosh! You carried on until I came, even though you’d pooped... Wow! That was ... so nice of you! You must have been dying inside ... but you continued anyway?”

She smiled. “What else was I going to do? I couldn’t stop myself from pooping ... but I wanted you to ... you know.”

Paul chuckled. “You’re amazing, Emily. You’re not even my girlfriend, and yet you treat me better and do more for me than I can imagine an actual girlfriend would do. I ... I just don’t know what to say. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

To her astonishment, Emily realised Paul was starting to cry. “Oh, Paul!” she said earnestly. “Don’t cry. Please don’t. I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

Paul wiped his eyes. “Oh, they’re happy tears!” he said. “Happy tears. Ugh, I’m such a wuss. Let’s get back home before I make even more of a fool of myself. I’ll go inside first and distract Mom and Dad somehow, if necessary, so you can sneak upstairs.”

Emily nodded. “Thank you;” she said. She had no intention of going all the way back to the Davises’ house with full panties, but she appreciated Paul’s strategising nonetheless.

Since they were less than halfway around the trail; they headed back the way they had come. They soon emerged from the trees and began to skirt the local park, following the course of the river. Emily spotted a man walking his dog, some distance away, but he soon disappeared behind the elaborate climbing frames and other equipment of a children’s play area. As they reached Hubert Road, without having encountered anyone, Emily began to hope that she might get away with her outdoor accident.

But then Paul stopped dead. “Oh shit,” he muttered.

Emily was about to gently chide him for his language, but then she saw the expression on his face. He was looking at two distant figures who were approaching on their side of the street. “You know those guys?” she asked.

“Leon and Roy,” said Paul. “They go to my school. They’re on the football team – and they’re both assholes. Bullies. This isn’t good...”

Emily stepped nervously behind Paul. “What should we do? Go back on the trail?”

“Too late for that,” said Paul. “They’ve seen us already. And they can’t fail to have noticed that you’re not wearing very much. If we go on the trail, they’ll follow us, and when they catch us – which they will – we’ll be in more trouble there than we will out here, with houses nearby. Just keep walking. If things get rough, just run for home; I’ll hold them back as long as I can.”

Emily’s stomach was in knots as they approached the two boys, both of whom were taller and more powerfully built than Paul. In her mind flashed visions of being grabbed, molested, maybe even raped, while Paul got beaten to a pulp. Would they really go that far, though, within sight of several houses, with the potential for being witnessed, possibly even recorded on video by someone’s...

“Paul!” she said urgently. “Your phone! Start filming them!”

“Oh!” he said. “Good idea!” In a moment, he had his phone out and was holding it up, recording the approaching boys on video.

“Think you might have forgotten part of your outfit there, Sweetie,” said the taller and darker-haired of the pair.

“This your girlfriend, Pus Factory?” asked the other. “Cause if so ... I have questions!”

“I’m warning you both!” said Paul fiercely. “I’m recording you! Touch either one of us, and you’ll be going to jail!”

“Jesus Christ, try not to be such a waste of oxygen,” said the taller one. “Who is this, anyway, your sister?”

“That’s none of your business, Leon!” snapped Paul. “Now let us past – and don’t try to stop us!”

“Who’s trying to stop you?” Leon inquired. “I don’t seem to be trying to stop you. Are you trying to stop them, Roy?”

“Not me,” said Roy. “Looks like just the fact that we’re standing here has sent this pathetic little turd into a total panic.”

“I think you’re right,” Leon agreed. “But I’d still like to know – who are you, Sweetie? What are you doing with a dork like this?”

“I live with him,” said Emily, trying not to sound as fearful as she felt.

“Lucky Paul!” said Leon. “And why are you dressed like this?” He gestured at her panties.

Emily blushed. “We went running,” she said.

“Look, it’s none of your business, okay?” said Paul angrily. “Come on Emily – if they won’t move aside for us, we’ll just have to use the road.”

“Road’s dangerous, Zitface,” said Roy, watching in amusement as Paul and Emily stepped on to the road and edged around them, Paul brandishing his phone, as if Leon and Roy were a couple of vicious dogs poised to strike. But neither Leon nor Roy seemed inclined to intercept them. They just continued to watch, smirking, until Emily and Paul had mounted the sidewalk on the other side of them.

“All right,” said Paul, now backing away from the two bullies, with Emily still behind him. She had contrived to keep her poo bulge hidden from view behind herself the whole time so far. “Okay, let’s go!” He turned, grabbed her hand, and made a run for it.

“What the hell...?” said Leon, staring at Emily’s bulging, bouncing panties.

Roy’s jaw dropped. “Was that ... what I thought it was?”

“I think so!” said Leon. “I think we made her shit herself in fright!”

“That’s kinda hot,” Roy mused.

Leon turned to stare at him. “Weirdo.”

Paul and Emily stopped running after about fifty yards, when it became apparent that Leon and Roy were not chasing them. Emily, who had been clutching the sides of her panties as she ran, looked back along the sidewalk to see if she had lost any poo. There was no sign of any fallen chunks, however.

“Are you okay?” Paul asked Emily.

“Yes!” she panted. “Well done, Paul – I suspect your phone stopped them from doing anything bad. A useful trick to remember for the future, I think!”

He nodded. “I don’t know what they were even doing on our street. They don’t live round here. I’m so sorry, Emily – that was a traumatic end to our morning run!”

She shook her head. “We’re both fine, and you did great,” she said. “You said you would protect me, and you did! Thank you Paul.”

He smiled. “All right, let’s get home.”

But as they passed Harry’s house, the old man opened his front door. “Good morning!” he said.

“Oh heck,” Paul muttered.

“It’s okay,” said Emily. “Harry’s a nice man. Good morning Harry!”

“Been out for another run?” Harry asked.

“Yes!” said Emily. “But I afraid I had a bit of an accident. Look!” She turned to show him.

“Good heavens!” said Harry.

“What are you doing?” whispered Paul anxiously.

“It’s all right,” Emily assured him. “Harry, would you mind if I clean up in your house? I just don’t want to risk Jacob and Mary seeing me like this...”

“Uh, sure!” said Harry. “Come on in!”

“You sure about this?” asked Paul. “Maybe I should come in with you...”

“I’ll be fine,” said Emily. But she did not like the feeling that she was being dishonest with Paul. She really ought to tell him about her relationship with Harry. But not yet; she was not ready to tell him that panty-pooping was an erotic hobby for her. “I’ll see you shortly. If your mom and dad ask, just tell them Harry wanted me to see some more photos.”

Paul nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I just ... I don’t like the way he’s looking at you.”

Emily glanced at Harry. “Can you blame him? Think what I’m wearing...”

Paul chuckled, and nodded. “All right,” he said. “I guess he’s too old to worry about. See you in a bit. I’ll unlock the front door for you so you can sneak in and go upstairs, in case Mom’s in the kitchen.”

“Good thinking!” said Emily. “Thank you.”

As Paul headed for his own front door, Emily walked over to Harry, grinning naughtily. “Want to help me clean up, Harry?”

“Of course!” he replied, with a glint in his eye. “But first I want to rub your poop all over those lovely boobs of yours.”

“Oh!” said Emily, a little taken aback. But then she shrugged. “Okay!” She followed him inside. “Where would you like to do this? Sounds like it’ll get pretty messy...”

“Upstairs bathroom,” said Harry. “In the bath, in fact. If that’s okay?”

Emily nodded. “It’ll certainly be convenient for the clean-up.”

Harry hesitated. “Before we go up, though ... would you mind if I take a photo of you?”

Emily pouted. “Everyone wants to take photos of me!” she remarked ruefully.

“It’s not often that a girl like you comes into the life of a lonely old man like me,” said Harry.

Emily nodded. “Sure,” she said. “I don’t suppose I need to worry about you putting them on the internet...”

“I’d never do that!” said Harry, shocked at the idea.

“I know,” said Emily. “Okay, so where...”

“Living room?” Harry suggested. “I, uh ... already got my camera out...”

“Oh!” said Emily, as Harry picked up a camera from the coffee table in the living room. “A real camera! Well it’ll make a change from people’s phones...”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “How many people have been taking photos of you?”

Emily bit her lip. “Well, there’s Paul,” she said. “He’s taken a few. Then there’s Nathan’s friend Mack... And Anthony, the guy at the uniform store... And Pablo, who’s a professional photographer ... although of course he was using a proper camera too...”

Harry blinked. “What kind of photos?”

“Sexy outfits ... nudes ... that sort of thing,” said Emily, blushing. “No poop though; this’ll be a first.”

Harry stared at her for a moment, then he shook himself. “Okay, could you please bend over that chair, sticking your butt out?”

Emily posed, and Harry took a photo. He then talked her through a few more poses, culminating in a squat on an armchair, for which she took off her shoes.

“Thighs spread a little more, please?” Harry asked hopefully.

Emily complied. Her poo-bulge hung down beneath her bottom, almost touching the upholstery, while her gusset, stretched thin, barely obscured her pussy.

“Wonderful!” said Harry. “Um ... would you be willing to do a topless version of this one...? It’ll be a great finale for the photo set.”

Emily shrugged. “Why not?” She pulled her sports bra up over her head, and threw it on to the sofa. Then she leaned back and rested her elbows atop the back of the chair, while Harry took his final photo.

Or so she thought. But then Harry said, “Uh ... actually ... can we do just one more? I’d like to have a shot where I can see the poop itself. Could you maybe ... pull the front of your panties ... to one side?”

“You’ll see more than just the poop if I do that,” said Emily wryly.

Harry grinned sheepishly. “Please...?”

Emily shivered, then she reached down with her left hand, and pulled the gusset of her panties aside, exposing her pussy and the huge mound of poo in the back of her panties. Harry eagerly took a photo, then he came forward, knelt down, and took a close-up.

“Okay, that has to be it,” said Emily. “I only have so much time.”

“Yes yes, of course,” said Harry. “Come on upstairs.”

In his main bathroom, Emily climbed into the bath, then she turned to see Harry undressing. To her surprise, he got fully naked, and she tried not to stare at his loose, wrinkled skin. For his age he was not in bad shape, though, and his semi-erect cock was a decent size. He climbed into the bath, and stood facing her, his watery eyes shining. For a moment the two of them looked at each other wordlessly, then Harry slowly reached out and slid his hand down into the front of Emily’s panties. Cupping her pussy with his fingers, he gently stroked her labia and clitoris.

Feeling a little awkward, and not yet as in the mood as she wanted to be, Emily stepped forward and put her arms around Harry’s neck. “Can we start with a kiss?” she asked softly.

“God yes!” he said fervently.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in v...” Her admonition was cut off by Harry’s lips pressing against hers. She opened her mouth, and they entwined tongues. As they explored each other’s mouths, Harry reached further down, grabbed a handful of poo, and began rubbing it into her pussy. This was what Emily had been waiting for – longing for, even – and she moaned with pleasure as her vile excrement squished and oozed between her labia.

But then Harry reached around behind her with his other hand, slipped it into the back of her panties, and pulled it out with a large chunk of poo. Breaking off from the kiss, he brought his hand up, and smushed the poo against her right breast, smearing and squishing the brown mess over the whole of the large supple orb.

Emily stared down in fascination, though she wrinkled her nose a little at the smell. “How disgusting...”

“That’s how you like it, though,” Harry murmured, bringing up another large chunk with his right hand and squishing it against her left breast. As he massaged both breasts, coating them with poo, he went on, “You like being naughty, dirty, and disgusting...”

“I’m a dirty girl,” Emily whispered, closing her eyes. There was something wonderfully perverse about getting a breast massage with poo instead of with massage oil. But after a couple of minutes of this, there was something else she wanted to do. “Harry, would you like me to suck your cock?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Yes please!” he said. “That would be lovely. Except ... I won’t be able to reach your poop...”

“Um ... what if I lie down on my back...?” Emily suggested.

“Yes!” said Harry. “That’ll work.”

Emily carefully lay down, with her head near the deep end, and her knees raised and apart. Harry turned around and stepped astride her, then slowly knelt down, straddling her torso with his knees, and with his feet either side of her head. He shuffled back a little until his cock, now fully erect, was above Emily’s face, at which point she took hold of it and guided its tip into her mouth. As she began to suck, Harry sighed with pleasure. Thrusting his right hand into Emily’s panties, he scooped up some more poo, and began kneading it and squishing it into her pussy. After a little while, he sank two messy fingers inside her, and was rewarded with a muffled moan from down by his loins.

“Such a dirty girl,” he muttered. “You don’t even care that you’ve got poop in your vagina now, do you?”

Emily’s reply was inaudible, but sounded like it had a lot of ‘m’s in it. Grinning, Harry thrust his messy fingers in and out of her for a minute or so, then he withdrew them, found a small chunk of poo that was a little more solid than the rest, and gently pushed it against the opening of Emily’s vagina. It sank in, and he pushed it deep with his fingers. Emily uttered a slightly indignant squeal, but she did not stop sucking. Harry sought out another, slightly larger lump, and slowly pushed it inside her after the first. A third lump followed, and then a fourth, until Emily’s vagina was stuffed full of her own poo.

Harry now began pulling Emily’s panties off. Tugging them up her thighs as he drew her knees together, he shook out the remaining poo, then worked the messy garment off her feet. Leaving them at the end of the tub, he pulled Emily’s knees apart again, sank two fingers into her poo-filled vagina, and began vigorously finger-fucking her. Then, reaching around her thigh with his other hand, he found her anus with his middle finger, and slowly sank it inside. This elicited another squeal, but to her credit, Emily continued sucking, and pumping his shaft with her hand.

Harry removed his finger from Emily’s anus, then used his left hand to pull her knees back against her torso, so that her pussy and bottom were angled more upward. Then he reached past his right hand, and carefully worked two fingers of his left hand back inside her anus. Nearing his orgasm, he began to finger-fuck both orifices with as much energy as he could muster, while rapidly rubbing her clit with his right thumb.

Emily began uttering loud, muffled moans, and her body started shaking uncontrollably. Delighted, Harry continued thrusting, but soon he, too, was shuddering in orgasm, as his cock pumped semen into Emily mouth. She eagerly drank it down, sucking and sucking until she had extracted every last drop.

Panting, Harry slowly pulled his fingers out of her. “Well that was nice,” he gasped.

Emily tugged his softening cock out of her mouth. “Harry, you filled me with poop!”

“Yes I did,” he said, chuckling. “But you don’t mind, do you?”

Emily groaned. “No, I guess not, but it’ll be a nightmare to get all of it out!”

“I can help with that,” said Harry. “I have a turkey baster downstairs. I’ll go and fetch it; we’ll soon have you flushed out.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “I guess that would work...”

He climbed off her, then helped her to her feet. “Let’s get the shower going,” he said. “Would you mind? My hands...”

“Oh, sure,” said Emily. She turned around, and started the water running from both taps. When she had adjusted them so that the water coming out was pleasantly warm, she flipped the metal switch so that the water began coming out of the shower head.

They cleaned themselves up fairly quickly, though Emily did permit Harry to soap up her breasts. Then, having got himself clean, Harry stepped out of the tub and dried his feet. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he left the room and went downstairs, while Emily washed out her panties, scrubbing them with soap in an attempt to get them as clean as possible. When Harry returned, he was carrying a clear plastic tube, tapered at one end and with a rubber bulb at the other. “Ready for me to flush you out?” he asked cheerfully.

Emily eyed it nervously. “Just be careful and don’t push it in too far,” she said. “I’m not keen on how pointy it looks.”

“I’ll be careful,” he assured her.

He filled the baster with warm water from the basin, then he approached the bath. Emily, after a moment’s hesitation, lay down in the shallow end, with her elbows hooked over the sides of the bath and her thighs spread wide. Harry carefully inserted the narrow end of the tube into her vagina, slid it in about three inches, and then gently squeezed the bulb. Brown lumpy water poured out of her around the sides of the tube.

“I’ll just refill this,” said Harry.

After just three flushes, the water coming out of Emily was clear, but Harry did it a fourth time, just to make sure.

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. “I feel a lot better now.”

“Thank you!” Harry responded. “For the blowjob, I mean. That was an unexpected bonus. Most unexpected.”

Emily blushed. “You’re welcome. Anyway, I need to get back next door; they’ll be wondering what’s keeping me!”

Harry nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”

Emily shivered. “Maybe,” she said. “I can’t make any promises. But I’d like to...”

She put on her damp panties, went downstairs, and put on her shoes and sports bra. Harry saw her to the door, and she kissed him goodbye. “Bye Harry!” she said.

“Bye Emily,” he replied. “Have a good day!”

She left his house, and went back to the Davises’. Entering through the front door, she glanced around nervously. Mary was in the kitchen, but she could not see Jacob. She sneaked past the kitchen door, then dashed upstairs two at a time. Shutting herself in her room, she sighed with relief. She took off her sports bra, panties, and shoes, dried off her bottom and pussy, and put on one of her new thongs. Then she went downstairs at a more relaxed pace.

“Good morning dear,” said Mary, as Emily entered the kitchen. “Did you have a nice run?”

“Yes thank you,” said Emily. “Paul managed over three quarters of a mile! I was very proud of him.”

“I think it’s wonderful that you’re helping him get fit,” said Mary with a smile. “You’ve been so good to Paul; I really am very grateful.”

Emily smiled. “It’s my pleasure. I never had a younger brother, and he doesn’t have a sister, so I think we fill a certain gap in each other’s lives.”

Mary nodded. “Would you like pancakes...?”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll just stick with my Branagram, if that’s okay,” said Emily. And she helped herself to an extra large portion.

Paul entered the room, and sat down to eat. When he saw the amount of cereal Emily had poured for herself, his brow furrowed. “That’s a lot of bran!” he remarked. “Aren’t you worried that ... you know...”

“Shhh!” Emily whispered in alarm.

But Mary’s attention had been caught. “Worried that what?” she asked curiously.

Paul hastily tried to cover up his error. “Well, uh, you know what they say. Too much fibre ... causes ... constipation...”

“Oh? I hadn’t heard that,” said Mary. “I suppose it could, if you don’t drink enough...”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine; I drink plenty,” said Emily quickly.

“Okay then,” said Paul, and he wisely did not pursue the subject any further.

After breakfast, Emily got herself ready for work. When she came downstairs in her microskirt and too-tight blouse, Jacob spotted her from the living room. “My goodness, Emily, your skirts get shorter and shorter!”

“Yes, there’s no need to give her a hard time about it,” said Mary hastily. “I told you her boss is making her dress rather skimpily.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Emily mournfully. “I’m sure I look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Jacob repeated. “No, not at all. Uncomfortable, yes. Embarrassed, yes. Sexy, yes. Inappropriately sexy for an office? Well, I’d have said so, but then I’m not your boss, and if he’s the one who decides the dress code, and he says that skirt and that top are appropriate, then it doesn’t matter what I think. My main concern is that I don’t want you to be miserable in your job. Are you otherwise being treated well? Or are you getting teased about your outfit? Or worse, sexually harassed?”

“I’m being treated well,” Emily conceded. “Almost everyone there has been very nice.”

“Almost?” Mary inquired.

“Well ... I don’t think the receptionist likes me very much,” said Emily.

“Could be she’s envious,” Jacob suggested. “Is she young and pretty?”

“I guess so,” said Emily.

“Then she probably feels like you’re stealing her thunder,” said Jacob. “Don’t worry though – her good opinion of you is less important than that of your boss and close colleagues there. The receptionist will just have to get used to your presence.”

“And your outfit,” added Mary. “As will you, I’m afraid.”

Emily nodded. “I’m sure I will. After all, I got used to the one I wore at the coffee shop, and that was something I’d have considered scandalous back home in Oakwood.”

“Indeed!” said Jacob. “Yes, it almost seems like you prefer wearing very short skirts now.”

Emily blushed. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all!” said Mary. “You have lovely legs and a lovely bosom; nobody should fault you for being comfortable with your body and showing it off. It would be one thing if you were deliberately flaunting it for attention ... but I don’t think that’s why you wear skimpy clothes by choice, is it...?”

“No!” said Emily. “It’s more ... it makes me feel ... free? I guess?”

Mary nodded. “That’s just what I thought. Oakwood has forced you to cover up for so long, and now you’re breaking free. Well good for you! Be proud of your body and proud of yourself. You look beautiful. Don’t be ashamed – even in that outfit.”

“Really?” asked Emily hopefully. “It’s not too ... much? Because I think i could get used to wearing it a lot quicker if I have your approval...”

“If that’s all it’ll take,” said Jacob, “then I hereby approve your outfit. You look gorgeous.”

“I do too,” said Mary. “And any other skirts or dresses with similar hemlines that you feel like wearing, and any tops that are similarly revealing.” Jacob looked at her quizzically, and she shrugged. “Just covering my bases.”

“Thank you, you’re very kind,” said Emily. “I don’t have anything else quite as short as this skirt, though. My new dresses – goodness, I thought they were so short when I bought them last week, but now they seem quite conservative! And as for the clothes I brought here ... my goodness. I ... I honestly don’t want to go back to wearing them. Seems a bit of a waste – a couple of them are quite new – but they almost feel like ... cages...”

Mary nodded. “Perhaps you could donate them to your friend’s thrift store,” she suggested. “Or maybe shorten them, so they show a bit more leg? Would that make them feel less like cages, do you think?”

“Probably!” said Emily in surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that, but that’s a good idea!”

Mary smiled. “If you like I can tackle that tomorrow while you’re at work.”

“Oh but that’s not necessary,” said Emily, her cheeks turning pink. “I can do it myself; I’m a pretty good seamstress. You don’t grow up as a girl in Oakwood without learning how to sew!”

“I’m sure you can sew beautifully, dear,” said Mary hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. And if you’d prefer to do it yourself, that’s fine, of course. I just thought it would be a fun way to spend an afternoon...”

Emily bit her lip. “I guess, if you’d really like to...” She sighed. “But what about when I go back to Oakwood? Even if I’ve left the place for good, I still have lots of family and friends there. I’m sure I’ll be visiting plenty. I’ll need something I won’t be pilloried for wearing there.”

“All right, so maybe we leave one alone,” Mary suggested. “How many did you bring?”

“Three,” said Emily. “They’re all very similar...”

The sound of Paul thundering down the stairs heralded his imminent entrance. Emily turned and smiled at him as he appeared.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “That’s your office outfit?”

Emily nodded. “Yes. I’ll be heading out in a few moments.”

“So, should I plan on shortening two...?”

Emily hesitated, then shivered. “Yes, I guess so – if it’s not too much trouble...”

“What’s this about?” Paul wanted to know.

“We’re talking about shortening a couple of Emily’s Oakwood dresses,” said Mary. “It seems unlikely she’ll be going back to wearing dresses of that length, and it would be a shame for them to just gather dust...”

“Cool!” said Paul.

“Next question,” said Mary. “How short would you like them? Are we talking knee length? Mid-thigh...? Or are you only into super short hemlines now...?”

“Super short!” Paul jumped in excitedly. Then he added, slightly abashed, “I’m guessing. Right, Emily...?”

Emily blushed. “I ... I don’t know. What do you think, Mary?”

“I think I’m happy to do whatever you want,” said Mary. “But if I go with a length that you’re unlikely to wear, it’ll be a bit of a waste of time and effort. Perhaps I should go with ‘super short’...?”

“Yeah!” said Paul.

Emily could not help feeling a little tingle of excitement as she imagined Mary cheerfully hacking off literally feet of her dresses and turning them into something scandalously revealing. “I ... I guess that’ll be fine,” she said. “Just use your judgment.”

“All right then!” said Mary happily. “Good! This’ll be a fun challenge!” She got to her feet. “Well, we’d best be off, dear.”

“Have a good day, Emily!” said Jacob.

“Bye Jacob!” said Emily. “Bye Paul!”

“Bye!” said Paul.

Emily and Mary left the house, and got into Mary’s car. After the short drive to Innesco, Mary turned to Emily and smiled. “Have a good day, dear. And don’t let anyone take advantage of you, okay?”

“I’ll try not to!” said Emily ruefully. It was a hard thing to promise; anyone who sneaked a peek at her bottom while she was bending over the water fountain was technically taking advantage of her, but there was little she could do about that. “Thanks for the ride, Mary. Have a good day.”

“You too!”

Emily climbed out of the car, closed the door, and headed for the front door of the building. She used her keycard to get inside, then she took the elevator up to the fourth floor. As she passed the front desk, she was relieved to see that Sadie was not currently there, and she hurried to her desk before the hostile young woman could have a chance to return.

Sitting down at her desk, she switched on her laptop, signed in, and waited for her desktop to load. Then it occurred to her that Blake might want her to get him some coffee, so she got up again, and headed to his office.

He was sitting at his desk, face like thunder, and Sadie was with him. “How did he get back in?” he demanded. “I had Billy cancel his keycard! I swear, if that useless turd fucked that up...”

Emily was just coming to the conclusion that she should leave Blake to his ranting, when he looked up. “Oh, hey,” he said. “Get me some coffee please Emily.”

“Of course, right away,” said Emily, relieved to be dismissed. She hurried to the kitchen, and made Blake’s coffee the way he had taught her. Returning to his office, she set it on his desk as his ranting continued.

“Then you weren’t watching the door the whole time!” he was saying.

“I was too!” replied Sadie irritably. “And I’m telling you, if he came back in the office, it wasn’t during working hours. Someone must have let him in after I left at five thirty.”

“Billy says the logs show nobody entering or leaving this office between then and seven fifteen this morning!” said Blake. “Thanks Emily, that’s all for now – I’ll come see you after I figure out this mess.”

“Okay,” said Emily quietly. She wondered who they were talking about. As she returned to her desk, it occurred to her to ask Zack, but the transportation planner was not at his desk. Perhaps Blake would tell her later.

Indeed, he did. And only then did she discover the full horror of the situation she had inadvertently landed herself in. It was about half an hour later; she was idly browsing through company literature, when Blake appeared at the entrance to her cube. His face was red with anger. “Come to my office!” he barked.

Stunned, she got to her feet and hurried after him. As she entered his office, he closed the door behind her. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Emily!” he said angrily. “I’m surprised you had the guts to show up here this morning!”

“What?” asked Emily, flustered and confused. “What did I do?”

“You stole eighty thousand dollars from my office, that’s what you did!” Blake exclaimed. “As if you didn’t know!”

“What?” gasped Emily. “No I didn’t! I promise you, Blake, I did no such thing!”

“Play the innocent all you like, girl, but I have you on video!” he snapped, leaning over his laptop. He hit a button, and then turned the laptop so she could see the screen. The video that was playing looked like a feed from a security camera that was trained on Innesco’s front door. As Emily watched, she saw herself open the door and step through it, carrying her own bag as well as the briefcase she had picked up from Blake’s office. A sense of alarm and dismay quickly crept over her.

“Oh – the briefcase – the money was in there?” she asked anxiously.

“Bingo!” said Blake grimly. “And you took it from my office, and walked out of here with it, right under everyone’s noses! You’ve got nerves of steel, I’ll grant you, but did you really think you’d get away with it?”

“But you asked me ... I mean ... Zack asked me to bring it down to the parking lot!”

“I’ve no doubt that’s true!” said Blake. “So you admit it, then! You stole eighty thousand dollars from Innesco on Zack’s behalf!”

“No, no!” cried Emily desperately. This was a nightmare! “Zack called me up and asked me to get it from your office and bring it down ... he said he was with you! I didn’t even think to question his request ... I mean, he works here!”

“Worked here, you mean,” Blake growled. “I fired him yesterday afternoon! I found out he’d been stealing from the company! Looks like he wasn’t done though, even after I’d revoked his security clearance!”

“But I didn’t know!” Emily exclaimed. “I had no idea! I didn’t even know what was in the bag!”

“You expect me to believe that?” Blake sneered. “Quite the coincidence, Zack pulling off the biggest heist of his career on the same day you start, don’t you think?”

“But I had nothing to do with it!” Emily insisted. “I just did what he asked me to do!”

“Yes, I know!” Blake shouted. “And in doing so you stole eighty thousand dollars!”

Emily burst into tears. “I didn’t mean to!” she wailed. “I didn’t know what was in the case!”

“You can tell that to the police,” said Blake, unmoved. “They’re on their way. I imagine you’ll be going to prison for a long time, as an accessory to grand larceny. That’s unless you can cut a deal by leading the cops to Zack.”

Emily’s eyes widened in terror. “But I don’t know where Zack is! I don’t know him! I only met him yesterday!”

“And yet you aided him in stealing from the company you just began working for!” said Blake, working himself up into a near frenzy. “Jesus Christ! I knew there was something wrong – or I should have! Showing up here with no experience, in a skimpy outfit ... working your charms on me in your interview! You must have been planning this with Zack for a while! Tell me the fucking truth!”

“I am telling you the truth!” Emily cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please Blake – you’ve just got to believe me!”

“Believe that you’re just too dumb and naive not to question why Zack was asking you to take a briefcase from my office and bring it out to him?” asked Blake. “No, I don’t think so! You may be from Hicksville, but you’re no bimbo. You’re smart enough – you proved that yesterday.”

“Ohhh ... ohhh!” Emily had run out of things to say. She slumped down in the chair next to Blake’s desk, put her face in her hands, and cried her eyes out. “It’s not true!” she sobbed. “I’m not a thief!”

Blake glared at her with balled fists and clenched jaws. Then he thumped the desk with his fist. “Fuck!” He went behind his desk, and threw himself into his chair. “Damn it, I can’t send you to prison,” he muttered. “You wouldn’t survive a minute.”

Emily looked up hopefully.

“But I’m not letting you go, either!” Blake said sharply. “If you don’t want me to hand you over to the cops, you’re going to have to either get my eighty thousand back from Zack ... or find some other way of getting the money!”

“Wh...what?” asked Emily, confused.

“Beg, borrow, steal ... or legitimately earn it!” said Blake fiercely. “But I want every cent of that money back, you hear me? Every cent! I’ll give you six months. In the meantime you’ll continue to work here ... but every dollar you earn will go towards paying what you owe us. After six months, if you’re even a dollar short ... it’s off to prison you go!”

Emily wrung her hands in despair. “But Blake, this job was my way of making money so my fiancé and I could get married! I have no idea how I’m supposed to make eighty thousand dollars in six months!”

“You don’t want to take the deal?” asked Blake, with an indifferent shrug. “Fine – then tell your implausible story to the cops when they arrive.” Then, seeing her face crumpling into tears again, he frowned. “Jesus, girl, use your imagination. You’re pretty enough ... and you’ve got a body to make men drool. Have you considered modelling?”

Emily nodded. “I actually just started doing some,” she said.

“Great!” said Blake. “Second source of income. You’re on your way already. Modelling can pay pretty well, as I understand it, but I’m obviously no expert. The point is ... you have options. So do we have a deal? Or do I just hand you over to the cops?”

Emily gulped. “We have a deal,” she said.

“All right,” Blake grunted. “I’ll figure out how to keep you off the cops’ radar as they investigate this thing. So here’s how it’s going to work. First of all, if the cops catch Zack, and he clears you of any blame, you’re off the hook for the cash. But that’s a long shot; Zack almost certainly had a plan to evade the law when he took off with the cash. But there’s a chance. Meanwhile, you’ll work for me in your current position, but for free. And if you dare to not show up one day ... if you’re even half an hour late ... I’m calling the cops and telling them everything. Understood?”

Emily nodded numbly.

“All right,” said Blake, deeming satisfied. “Now go and dry those tears, and wash your face. As far as your job here is concerned, nothing’s changed. You’ll work from nine to three, doing the job you applied for and got. Your wages will go toward the eighty thousand you owe me. You just need to figure out how you’re going to earn the rest. But Emily ... don’t tell anyone about this deal of ours. It will complicate things ... and if things start getting complicated, I’m calling the cops.”

Emily whimpered a little. “Okay,” she said in a small voice.

“All right, you can go,” said Blake. But as Emily got up and walked over to his door, he added, “Oh, Emily?”

“Yes?” She turned to look at him, feeling rather morose.

“Those shoes don’t really work with the rest of your uniform,” he said. “Tomorrow I want to see you in high heels. Okay?”

Emily stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Of course. Sorry.” Then she left his office, and went to the ladies’ restroom to wash and dry her face. When she returned to her desk, she sat down and opened her email inbox, awaiting her next assignment.

The urge to cry was hard to resist. Suddenly her world had been turned upside down. What was she going to do? How was she going to get Blake’s money? Why had she been so foolish as to take Blake’s briefcase, on Zack’s instruction, without checking with Blake first? Her lower lip trembled, but she forced herself not to dwell on her situation; that would lead only to tears.

An email arrived, from Blake. He wanted her to set up a meeting. Well, she could do that. Another email arrived. Now he wanted her to update an old company document with current employee names and contact information. The document was large; it would take her a while. Good: she needed something to keep her mind off her troubles.

She was still working on it, two hours later, when she got an instant message from Billy. ‘Hi Emily. How’s it going?’

‘Good, thanks,’ she replied. She did not dare tell him she was in dire trouble for stealing from the company.

As it happened, though, she did not have to. ‘I’m so sorry about what happened,’ his next message said. ‘I don’t believe for a second that you were Zack’s willing accomplice. I think he just took advantage of your trusting nature.’

She grabbed this lifeline. ‘He did!’ she replied. ‘He totally did! I had no idea!’

‘I figured as much,’ Billy replied. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry it happened. You don’t deserve to be on the receiving end of Blake’s fury.’

‘Thank you Billy, that means a lot,’ she typed. Then she sighed. It was nice to have one sympathetic friend here, at least.

She continued to work. But about ten minutes later, a message popped up on her screen, informing her that her network connection had dropped. Her brow furrowed. She tried typing a message to Billy, but of course it did not go through; she merely got an error message.

So she picked up the phone, and dialled Billy’s number. When he answered, she said, ‘Um, hi Billy. I seem to have lost my connection.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll come and take a look,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks,” she said, and hung up.

A few moments later, Billy arrived. “May I?” he asked, gesturing at her laptop.

“Of course!” She got up from her chair, and Billy sat down.

As he pulled up a command prompt, he said quietly, “So, Blake’s telling everyone that Zack has stolen money from the company, with your help. His position is that he’s almost certain you knew full well what you were doing, but that he can’t prove it, so he’s putting you on probation, and keeping an eye on you.”

“Okay...” said Emily.

“It’s all very suspicious,” Billy went on. “Blake doesn’t give people second chances like that. He’s framing it like he’s giving you the benefit of the doubt ... but that’s out of character for him. My guess is that there’s more to it. Am I right?”

“I ... I can’t say,” said Emily.

Billy nodded. “Would you be willing to discuss it more openly in a safer place? Like, outside the office?”

Emily bit her lip. She desperately wanted help ... but she was afraid of taking any more risks with Blake’s wrath. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe...”

“I want to help you, if I can,” said Billy. He hesitated. “Do you ... like board games?”

Emily stared at him in surprise. “Like chess, backgammon, and so on?”

“Well yeah,” said Billy, “but I have way cooler games than those. Would you be interested in coming over to my apartment to check them out? It would give us a chance to ... talk...”

Emily bit her lip. “Okay,” she said. “When?”

“After work?” he suggested. “Oh, but you get off at three... Say five-thirty? I can order us some pizza...”

“Um,” said Emily, “I ... I’ll have to see what my fiancé’s doing this afternoon. I think he was planning a band practice...”

“You’re in a band?” asked Billy in surprise.

Emily nodded. “Can I let you know...? Later?”

“Of course,” said Billy. “Can I give you my cell number?”

Emily nodded, and they set each other up as contacts. Then Billy said, “Okay, your network problem is fixed. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “Yes.”

He left her cube, and she got back to work. Soon she had finished her editing project, and she sent the document back to Blake. Then she ate her lunch.

Twenty minutes later, Blake sent her an instant message: ‘Come and see me.’ Emily rose from her chair, then, feeling rather nervous, she walked quickly to Blake’s office. Timidly, she entered.

“Yes, Blake?” she said.

He looked up. “It occurs to me, Emily,” he said, “that you might benefit from a tour of our factory floor. I may suspect you of grand larceny, but since I have chosen to keep you on as an employee rather than handing you over to the police, I feel duty-bound to educate you and train you as if you are planning to grow your career here. The first step in that process is getting to understand the business. So let’s head over there after I get back from lunch – okay?”

“Okay,” said Emily, nodding. She might have been more enthused about the idea if she were not still reeling from the news that she owed the company eighty thousand dollars. And the thought of walking around a factory in these clothes was a little scary.

“Good,” said Blake. “Oh, while you’re here, could you please fetch me my folder of product data sheets? It’s in the bottom drawer of that filing cabinet. It’s red; you can’t miss it.”

Emily walked over to the cabinet, and crouched down in order to open the drawer. But Blake cleared his throat. “Not like that, Emily,” he said. “Stand up, and bend over with straight legs.”

Emily turned to look at him with wide eyes. It was clear what he was asking her to do, but she could hardly believe that he would be so brazen about it.

Blake tapped his desk with his fingers. “Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

Emily gulped, then stood up. Turning her back on her boss, she bent at the waist, keeping her legs straight as she reached for the bottom drawer. Pulling it open, she spotted the red folder immediately, and pulled it out. Then she closed the drawer, straightened up, and turned around with pink cheeks. She handed the folder to Blake, who smiled.

“There – that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked.

“N-no,” she replied, not meeting his eyes.

“You have a nice ass,” he continued. “You shouldn’t be afraid to show it off.”

Emily was not sure how to respond. Her hands fidgeted with each other in front of her tiny skirt.

“Can I get a ‘Yes Blake’?” said Blake, sounding a little stern.

“Yes Blake,” mumbled Emily.

“Actually,” Blake mused, “I think I prefer the sound of ‘Yes sir’. It’s more respectful, don’t you think?” He stared around her expectantly, awaiting her response.

“Yes sir,” said Emily in a small voice.

“Good,” said Blake. “Off you go, then. I’ll swing by your desk after I get back from lunch.”

Emily returned to her desk, and sat down. She was not quite sure what that had been about, but it seemed like Blake was trying to impress upon her that she should be willing to show him her bottom on request. So many men had seen her bottom now that it did not seem like this should be a big deal ... except that this time felt different, somehow. This time it felt like a threat, almost – like there would be severe consequences if she refused. She shivered. What else was he likely to require her to do...?

It was almost an hour later when Blake came to her cube and said, “Ready Emily?”

“Yes Blake ... sir,” she said. She got to her feet and followed him to the front door. As she passed the reception desk, Sadie sneered at her.

They took the elevator down to the lobby, headed outside, and walked to Blake’s car in the parking lot. Emily got into the passenger side, and Blake drove them about two miles, to a part of the city Emily had not yet seen. Large industrial buildings, silos, and smoking chimneys arrayed the skyline here. Blake drove up to a security barrier and spoke with a man in a little shack. The barrier rose, and Blake drove through. From there it was a fairly short drive to a small office building that stood next to an enormous warehouse. Blake parked, and the two of them got out.

Emily’s outfit drew immediate attention, from a couple of men walking from the warehouse to the office. One was in his twenties; the other middle-aged. Both stared at her in awe, while she uncomfortably folded her arms across her chest.

Blake chuckled. “You’re going to be popular here, I can tell. Come on.” He led her into the office.

Inside was a short corridor leading into an open area with desks, computers, chairs, and a couple of bored-looking men who perked up as soon as they saw Emily. But Blake had entered a room with a half-open door at the start of the corridor, and Emily followed close on his heels.

A grey-haired man with a stubbly beard looked up, and then visibly started at the sight of Emily. “Heyyy,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “What’s up Blake? Is it my birthday?”

“Doug, this is my new assistant, Emily Flynn,” said Blake. “Emily, this is Doug Arbuckle, the mill manager. Doug’s been here ... thirty-five years is it?”

“Thirty-six,” said Doug. “Of course it was Tanner Textiles for most of that time...”

“Right, yeah,” said Blake. “Anyway, I’m just gonna give Emily a tour of the place; show her what we do.”

Doug licked his lips. “I could do that, if you like. Save you some time. I can bring her back to your office afterwards.”

Blake frowned. “Much as I trust you to do an excellent job of teaching her,” he said, “I regard Emily as an investment ... and I want to keep a close eye on her. However, if you’d like to lead the tour, and give us the benefit of your extensive knowledge, that’d be great.”

“Sure thing,” said Doug. “What size shoe do you take, honey?”

“Um ... eight,” said Emily, a little confused.

Doug got to his feet. “You’ll need safety shoes for the tour,” he explained. “Along with a hard hat and safety glasses. We take safety very seriously here, Emily; it’s literally our number one priority. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room, and returned a minute later with a pair of sturdy-looking black shoes. “Here you go,” he said, handing them to Emily. “They have steel toecaps built in.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. She slipped off her shoes, then crouched to put the safety shoes on, while Doug looked down at her thighs with interest, hoping for a peek up her tiny skirt. But Emily was being a little too careful for that.

Doug did not offer Blake any safety shoes, and Emily wondered why. Her boss’s shoes certainly looked fairly sturdy, and she wondered if he wore safety shoes as a regular habit, since he often had to visit the factory. Or maybe, as the boss, he was exempt from the requirement.

He did put on a hard hat and big plastic safety glasses, however, when Doug fetched two of each for them. Then he led them into the main room of the building. “This is where we coordinate the operation,” he said, as two men and a woman tried their best to look busy. “Production is 24/7, so this room is manned ... sorry, ‘staffed’ ... around the clock. Three eight-hour shifts. Colleen here is a production supervisor – she monitors instruments, mainly, since the production line is heavily automated. If something goes wrong, she’s got the experience to know where the problem is and how to fix it. But nothing ever goes wrong, does it Colleen?”

“Oh no, never,” said Colleen, smirking as she looked up at Doug. Then she noticed Emily, and Emily’s outfit. “Jesus Christ! Is that what the office girls are wearing these days?” She herself was wearing overalls.

“Just this one,” said Blake coolly.

Emily, her arms folded, was practically squirming in embarrassment.

“Well I like it,” said Doug with a grin. “I think it’s an awesome outfit. As long as you’re not forcing her to wear it, Blake...”

“Am I forcing you to wear that outfit, Emily?” Blake asked her.

“No,” Emily admitted, although it now occurred to her that her only alternative was to quit the job, which she could no longer do without going to prison.

“Well that’s good,” said Doug. “Anyway, Colleen also coordinates product changes, which might be a simple matter of adjusting the chemical mix, or it might involve flushing out vessels and pipework.” He paused. “I’m guessing you’re new to textile manufacturing, Emily?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Okay, so basically, it’s a three-step process. First, we make the fibre. Then we turn the fibre into yarn, and finally weave the yarn into fabric. Here at Innesco we make synthetic materials only, so the fibres we create are just extruded polymers. We create the polymers by means of chemical reactions that take monomers – relatively simple compounds – and form them into long chains. The polymers are then extruded through spinnerets to form the fibres which we then turn into yarn. Unlike natural materials like cotton, which has a short fibre length, synthetic fibres can be hundreds of yards long. We add chemicals at every stage of the process, and they all do different things. There are chemicals to reduce friction, chemicals to eliminate static cling ... well, I’ll describe some of the others later. You with me so far?”

Emily nodded. “I think so. Is this how nylon is made?”

“Exactly,” said Doug. “But everyone makes nylon, polyester, acrylic, and so on; the products we make are a little more high-tech. Have you heard of Kevlar?”

“Vaguely,” said Emily.

“It’s a very tough fabric, used for bicycle tyres, bulletproof vests, and other things that require high strength and/or heat resistance. Well we don’t make Kevlar – that’s DuPont’s product – but we have our own, very similar product, Lerilon, which actually has a higher tensile strength than Kevlar. And we have another product, Kabrilar, which is not quite so strong, but is as absorbent as cotton – that’s been kind of a holy grail for synthetic fabrics for decades. Okay, so Colleen is on the chemical end of the process, Mahmoud operates a bunch of machinery that takes over once the fibre is made, but again, most of the time he’s just monitoring; it’s largely automated. The main pieces of equipment he’s responsible for are the looms. He sets the thickness of the yarn, the tightness of the weave, the width of the fabric coming off the production line ... and then he hands over to Alton there. Alton sets up the machinery in the packaging warehouse. We used to have operators out there that did all that on the scene, but it’s managed remotely these days.” He took a breath. “Okay, so before I introduce you to the warehouse guys next door, let’s take a tour of the mill so you can see all this stuff for yourself.”

He led Emily and Blake out of the building, and across a broad paved area to a large building made of cinder blocks and blue corrugated metal sheets. They entered through a plain wooden door, then passed through a glass door, ignoring an elevator and a flight of stairs that led upwards.

“This is where the magic happens,” said Doug loudly, though Emily could still barely hear him on account of the roar of machinery. The room they were in was very large, and populated mainly with tanks and pipes, as far as she could tell. A couple of men, who appeared to be working on a piece of machinery that was lying in bits around them, stopped to stare at her in astonishment. She shivered, despite the heat in this room, and tried to ignore the men. She felt very self-conscious.

“Dye of various colours comes through those pipes and is added to the polymer in those vessels there,” Doug was saying, and Emily shook herself and tried to pay better attention.

The tour continued, and Emily made mental notes as Doug gave her what she thought sounded like important pieces of information, such as the fact that the global price of crude oil affected the prices of several of their raw materials, so the company tended to be most profitable when oil prices were low (as they currently were). Or that the most recent de-bottlenecking project had increased their throughput by seven percent.

She was introduced to several of the mill personnel. Most of them were men, who invariably looked at her legs and chest before looking up at her face. But they were all quite polite, probably because of the presence of Blake and Doug. She suspected that if she had met them alone, they would have had more lecherous things to say.

“All right!” said Doug eventually, after he had shown her the looms, which had been the most fascinating part for her, as she watched thread being turned into cloth faster than she would have imagined possible. “Let’s show you the packaging operation.”

But Blake was frowning at his phone. “I gotta run,” he said. “Come on Emily, we’re leaving.”

“Awww, but we haven’t finished the tour!” said Doug. “You want Emily to have a full experience of the operation, right? Why don’t you let me finish the tour with her, and then I’ll bring her back to your office.”

Blake grunted. “Okay, that’s fine,” he said. “Bring her back at three o’clock; that’s when her day finishes.”

Doug glanced at his wristwatch. “Sure, I can do that,” he said.

Blake nodded curtly. “Fine. See you later Emily.”

“Yes ... sir,” said Emily.

Blake smirked as he walked off.

“Sir?” asked Doug, looking amused. “Are you his servant?”

“No, it’s just ... more polite,” said Emily, blushing.

Doug chuckled. “Okay, follow me.” He led her into the next building, and gestured to a large piece of machinery. “So this is the cutting machine. We package the finished cloth in three different ways: folded sheets, unfolded sheets, and rolls. We basically try to package it how the customer needs it. Come on, let’s go say hi to Carlos on the forklift there.”

He led her over to a forklift truck, on which a young Hispanic man quickly tried to look busy as Doug approached. But Doug motioned for him to stop the truck. “Hey Carlos,” he said. “This is Emily, a new girl at the main office. Blake’s new assistant, in fact.”

“Hi Emily,” said Carlos, wrenching his eyes away from her chest. “How are you today?” He looked rather embarrassed.

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Emily, smiling. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he replied.

“Quiet afternoon?” Doug asked.

“Uh, yeah, we’re waiting on a catalyst truck to arrive,” said Carlos, “but we’re otherwise caught up; not much else on the schedule for today.”

“And there’s Mike,” said Doug. “Mike, stop lurking over there, and come and say hello.”

A dishevelled-looking middle-aged man with straggly shoulder-length grey hair ambled over, clutching a broom. “Hey,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable as his eyes bounced from Emily’s legs to her chest, then to the floor, then back to her legs. He had a very large, hairy mole on his left cheek, near his jawline.

“Mike, this is Emily, Blake Butcher’s new assistant,” said Doug. “Mike keeps the building interiors clean, don’t you Mike? It’s a very important job – and a never-ending one.”

“Nice to meet you, Mike,” said Emily politely.

The radio clipped to Doug’s belt crackled, and he grabbed it and lifted it to his face. “Go ahead,” he said, then released a button.

The voice on the other end was barely intelligible, but Doug seemed to understand it. “I’ll be right there,” he said. He clipped the radio back on his belt, and sighed. “I’m needed in the spinning room,” he said. “Would you gentlemen like to take Emily to the warehouse office and introduce her to Stan? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Sure thing, Doug,” said Carlos, and Mike nodded.

“Okay!” said Doug. “I’ll see you in a bit, Emily.”

He left, and Carlos grinned at Emily. “Let’s take you to see Stan, then. Come right this way.”

Emily followed him out of the warehouse, and across the road to a low brick building which, she noticed, was right next to the main office in which Blake had introduced her to Doug. Mike shambled after them, a few yards behind. For a moment Emily suspected he was doing so in order to look at her bottom, but then she scolded herself for this thought; it was entirely possibly he was just accustomed to walking slowly. He had a slight limp; perhaps he genuinely could not walk any faster.

They entered the warehouse office, but Carlos quickly discovered that his manager, Stan Lewis (according to the plaque on his door), was not there. “Hmm,” he said. “Let’s try the break room.”

But the break room contained only two of his colleagues, who were drinking from mugs of coffee while playing on their phones. They both looked up, a little guiltily, and then their jaws both dropped as they saw Emily. One was young, with very short, very blond hair and an earring in his left ear. The other was in his forties, black, bald, and very powerfully built.

“Hey there!” said the older one, a grin spreading across his face. He had a deep, quite mellifluous voice, and a slow, measured delivery. “I’m Eugene. This is Richie. How are you doing, sweet thing?”

“I ... I’m fine thank you,” said Emily, very pink in the cheeks. “I’m Emily.”

“You guys know where Stan is?” asked Carlos.

“He has a meeting this afternoon,” said Eugene. “I think he’s over in the Ops building.”

“Oh,” said Emily. “So should we just ... wait...?”

“Yup,” said Carlos. “Doug said he wouldn’t be long.”

“In the meantime,” said Eugene, “why don’t you sit down and tell us about yourself?” He gestured to an unoccupied chair next to a long cream-coloured table.

“Oh,” said Emily, “um, okay.”

“Yeah, and tell us why you’re dressed like that,” said Richie.

“Oh goodness,” said Emily, “well, okay then.” Taking off her hard hat and safety glasses and setting them on the table, she sat down on the chair, which was of the cheap, stackable variety, with metal legs and a plastic seat and back. Clasping her hands carefully in her lap, she took a deep breath, and began. “I always wanted a secretarial job,” she said, “because I can type pretty fast and I was a pretty good English student. I met Chet from the main office when I was working as a barista at a local coffee shop. My outfit there was kind of skimpy, and Chet liked it, and thought his boss, Blake Butcher, would like it too. Blake was looking for an assistant, and so I applied for the job. It turned out I really didn’t have a lot of the skills required for the job, but Blake said he was willing to take a chance on me ... as long as I was willing to ... actually I probably shouldn’t say this part...”

“Willing to what?” asked Richie with interest.

“You think any of us are likely to complain about Blake’s hiring practices, when they brought you into our little world?” asked Eugene with a chuckle.

“Oh,” said Emily, a little uncertainly. “Well, I agreed to wear a uniform of his choosing, and this is what I ended up getting. I know it’s terribly revealing, and I keep feeling like I should apologise ... except that most people I meet seem to like it...”

“Hands up if you approve of Miss Emily’s uniform,” said Eugene. Then he, Richie, Carlos and Mike all raised a hand. “Motion carried.” Eugene smiled. “We all love the uniform. Please continue.”

Emily smiled. “Um ... well that’s it really. I’m still just getting to know the job; this is my second day. Blake thought I should see the factory and learn about what the company does.”

“Welcome to the company!” said Carlos. “I for one am very happy you came to see us today.”

“Me too!” said Richie. “I’d never have dreamed women wear outfits like that in offices these days.”

“I suspect it’s not common,” Emily admitted. “I just ... well, circumstances kind of ... happened...” She bit her lip. “A week ago I’d never worn anything but long dresses, believe it or not. I grew in a very strict religious community...”

“Robertines?” Eugene inquired.

“Yes!” said Emily. “I’m from Oakwood.”

“You don’t look like no Robertine!” Eugene remarked. “Maybe the hair.”

“What the hell are Robertines?” asked Richie.

“Like Emily said, they’re a religious community,” said Eugene. “Kinda like Amish, right?”

“Yes, a bit,” said Emily, “although we’re a bit more tech-savvy!”

“I’ve seen Robertines,” said Eugene, “so I’m guessing clothes like this are way outside your comfort zone. Or ... perhaps you’re enjoying rebelling against the prudishness of your community...?”

“That’s actually very accurate,” Emily admitted, surprised at Eugene’s insight. “I’ve come to enjoy wearing short skirts and low-cut tops and so on. This uniform’s a bit more extreme than anything else I’ve worn, though, so I’m feeling a bit self-conscious and embarrassed!”

“Well there’s no need to be embarrassed around us,” said Carlos. “We’re not judgmental, are we guys?”

“Not at all,” agreed Eugene. “I got nothing but admiration for your bravery. To come from such a background, and switch to wearing skimpy clothes like this, must truly take some guts.”

“Awww, thank you!” said Emily.

“Can I take a selfie with you, Emily?” asked Richie. “My buddies will never believe me when I tell them about you, if I don’t have photographic proof.”

“Um, sure, I guess!” said Emily. The request made her feel a little like a celebrity.

When Richie pulled out his phone, however, Carlos reached out for it. “Why don’t you let me take a photo of the two of you? Then you can do the same for me.”

“Thanks!” said Richie, handing Carlos his phone.

“Okay, put your chairs together,” said Carlos, taking a step back and getting down on one knee as he held up Richie’s phone.

Emily had to unclasp her hands as she picked up her chair and manoeuvred it next to Richie’s. Carlos grinned at the white triangle he glimpsed. “Nice undies,” he said.

The other men laughed, as Emily blushed and re-clasped her hands.

“Hazard of wearing a skirt that short, I guess,” said Eugene. “Must be hard to keep ‘em covered, huh?”

“Yes,” Emily admitted ruefully.

“Say cheese,” said Carlos.

“Cheese,” said Emily and Richie.

“Hmm, you both look kinda stiff,” said Carlos, looking at the photo he had taken. “How about you put your arms around each other’s shoulders?”

“Sure,” said Richie. He put his right arm behind Emily’s back, and squeezed her right shoulder.

This felt a little over-familiar ... but then she thought about the men she barely knew whom she had allowed to finger her vagina, and suddenly this seemed quite harmless by comparison. After just a moment’s hesitation, she reached her left hand behind Richie’s back, and grasped his left shoulder.

“Great!” said Carlos. “Hmm, could be a little more dynamic though...”

“What are you, Annie Leibovitz?” Eugene drawled. “Take the damn photo.”

“I just think ... could you both give me a thumbs-up with your free hand?” asked Carlos.

Richie did so immediately, but Emily hesitated, knowing that the front of her thong would be visible if she lifted her hand out of the way. It certainly would not be the first time she had allowed a stranger to photograph her underwear, though, and although the thought of deliberately revealing her thong to Carlos made her nervous, it was also quite exciting. Biting her lip, she lifted her hand, made a fist, and raised her thumb.

“Don’t look so worried!” said Carlos with a chuckle. “Say cheese.”

“Cheeeeese.”

“Awesome,” said Carlos, grinning as he looked at the photo, Emily’s thong highly visible as a prominent white triangle between her thighs. “Eugene, why don’t you get in the next one, on Emily’s other side?”

“As long as the little white girl doesn’t have a problem putting her arm around a black guy,” said Eugene with a smirk.

“Oh, I’m sure Emily isn’t a racist,” said Carlos, as Emily’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re not a racist, are you Emily?”

“No!” said Emily hastily. “Absolutely not.”

Eugene chuckled as he pulled his chair up alongside Emily’s. “Well luckily I ain’t racist either,” he said, as he put his arm around her.

Emily shivered a little; Eugene’s hand seemed very large and heavy on her shoulder.

“Go on Emily, put your arm around him,” said Carlos with a cheerful grin.

Emily did so, noting that Carlos was looking intently at her lap. No doubt he could see her thong. But then he raised Richie’s phone. “Smile!” he said. And he took another photo.

“Shall we swap?” Richie asked, keen to have the same view as Carlos.

“Sure,” said Carlos, and he handed Richie his phone back. The two of them swapped places, and Emily put her arm around Carlos as he put his around her.

Richie grinned at Emily’s thong. “Nice,” he said. “Okay, smile guys.”

They all smiled, and he took the photo. “Awesome!” he said. “Here guys, take a look.” He stepped forward, holding up the phone for his colleagues to see.

“Sweet,” said Eugene, nodding with approval. “Can you send me that one, Carlos?”

“Sure!” said Carlos, taking his phone back from Richie. “Want me to send it to you too, Emily?”

Emily bit her lip. “Um ... okay, sure.” Nathan would no doubt get a big kick out of it. She recited her number, and Carlos tapped it into his phone ... as did Richie, into his own, and Eugene, into his. Belatedly, Mike pulled out his own phone, but his face fell as he realised he could not remember Emily’s number.

“And, that’s sent,” said Carlos. “Better not let your boyfriend see it though, Emily!”

Emily blushed. “Oh, he won’t mind,” she said, without thinking. It was in her nature to automatically answer honestly.

“Really?” said Eugene, intrigued.

“It wouldn’t bother him to see you looking so sexy and half-dressed, with your underwear showing, hanging out with a bunch of warehouse guys?”

Emily could sense a change in the men’s demeanour, like a build-up of static electricity in the room. Her nipples began to harden beneath her blouse. She swallowed nervously. “He trusts me,” she said simply, hoping this would put an end to the questioning.

“That’s cool,” said Eugene. “Trust is important in a relationship.”

“It is,” Emily agreed. “Particularly since we’re actually engaged to be married.”

“Congratulations!” said Carlos. “He’s a lucky guy, to have such a beautiful and sexy fiancée.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, blushing and smiling.

“All right,” said Eugene, getting to his feet. “My turn to take a photo. Richie, take a seat. Mike, you wanna be in this one?”

“Sure!” said Mike.

“Okay, just take a seat behind Emily, and kinda lean over her shoulder,” said Eugene, pulling out his phone as he leisurely took up a position a few feet in front of Emily. “Aww shit, my knees ain’t up to kneeling.” He walked over to a spare chair, and lifted over to where he had been standing. Setting it down, he sat in it, and readied his phone. “Okay,” he said, “let’s get creative. What kind of photos does your fiancée like, Emily?”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Um,” she said, a little flustered, “well ... sexy ones, I guess.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” said Eugene with a chuckle. “But is he a boob guy, a leg guy, a butt guy...? What does he like best?”

Emily’s cheeks reddened even further. “I guess ... all of those? I’m not sure what his favourite is, exactly. I know he likes my ... chest...”

Eugene smirked. “Don’t we all?” he said. “Okay, so let’s have some fun with this – while staying within the bounds of good taste, of course. Carlos, Richie ... how about you reach across with your free hands, and take hold of the sides of Emily’s blouse. Like you’re about to pull it open. Emily, you keep your arms around the two of them, but act like you’re shocked, and worried they’re about to expose your boobs. They won’t, naturally ... but pretend like you think they’re going to.”

Blood was rushing in Emily’s ears as she nodded wordlessly. It certainly sounded like a sexy photo, and she was reassured by ‘within the bounds of good taste’. So she did not resist as Carlos and Richie, grinning broadly, took hold of the sides of her blouse.

“Great,” said Eugene. “Okay, pull it open just a little. Not enough to expose her boobs, but enough to make it interesting.”

Emily gulped as the two men tugged her blouse even wider open. Her breasts, already indecently exposed, were revealed to a still greater extent – any further, and her areolae would be showing.

“That’s perfect,” said Eugene, taking a photo. “Try to look a little more alarmed, though, Emily. These guys are about to expose your nipples!”

Emily gasped as Carlos and Richie, apparently taking Eugene’s words as an instruction, started to tug her blouse even further open.

“Nice!” said Eugene. “Very nice! Great expression there Emily.”

“Thanks,” said Emily, glancing down anxiously at her chest. To her surprise, her areolae were still covered ... but only just.

“Now,” said Eugene, “a question for Emily. Would you permit Carlos to undo those last couple buttons on your blouse, as long as we keep your nipples covered? How would your fiancé feel about that?”

Those were two separate questions, but it was second one Emily found herself answering. “Um, I guess he’d probably like it...” Then she shivered, as Carlos deftly unfastened both buttons.

“Good,” said Eugene, adjusting his crotch with his left hand. “Now guys, pull the sides of Emily’s blouse back until her nipples are only just covered. Sweet – and smile!”

Emily glanced down at her chest, and saw that her areolae were no longer fully covered, though her nipples still were ... at least from the front. She was acutely aware however that Mike, peering over her shoulder, had the best view of her chest and might well be able to see one or perhaps both of her nipples. “I think that’s probably enough photos,” she said with a nervous little laugh.

“Relax, honey,” said Eugene smoothly. “We’re not going to uncover your boobs. But what about your panties? Does your fiancé like seeing those?”

Emily was breathing a little heavily by now, and this was threatening to cause her blouse or slide off her nipples, though she did not yet realise it. “Yes,” she reluctantly admitted. “He does like seeing my panties...” ‘He also loves it when I show my panties to other men,’ she added silently, and it occurred to her that Nathan would probably encourage her to comply with Eugene’s increasingly risqué photo requests, were he here.

“All right,” said Eugene, grinning. “Well let’s give your fiancé a treat, huh? Carlos, Richie, why don’t you take those pretty knees of Emily’s, and hook them over yours?”

Emily gasped as the two men either side of her lifted her knees up and pulled them apart, hooking them over their own. She would have slapped a hand over her thong, but both of her arms were tucked behind the men’s backs and, being held in place by their arms, not easily extracted. Eugene and his phone, therefore, now had an unobstructed view of her white thong between her thighs, which were spread at an angle of about forty-five degrees.

Her gasp had finally dislodged both sides of her blouse so that they slid off her breasts, exposing her nipples. “Oops!” said Eugene with a chuckle. “Better cover up those puppies, guys.” But then, while Carlos and Richie were staring at Emily’s breasts and making very little effort to cover them up again, Eugene raised an eyebrow. “Sweet Jesus, though, those are some incredible-looking boobs you got there, Emily.”

“I gotta agree!” said Carlos, wide-eyed.

“Me too!” said Richie fervently. “They’re the best I’ve ever seen!”

Emily could not help feeling flattered. Now that her breasts were out in the open, after several anxious minutes of near-exposure, it was almost a relief. And these gentlemen were being so complimentary... “Thank you,” she said, blushing and smiling.

“Now as much as I’d love to take a photo of those boobs in all their glory,” said Eugene, having just in fact sneakily taken just such a photo, “I’ll give you the choice, Emily. For this next photo, do you want them covered or uncovered?”

Emily hesitated, but not for long; she was quite enjoying having her breasts ogled and appreciated, but she did not want these men to know that. “Covered, please,” she said.

Eugene nodded. “That’s fine,” he said. “But let’s leave the blouse open. Carlos and Richie, could you cover her boobs with your free hands please?”

Whether he meant for Carlos and Richie to hover their hands in front of her breasts, or actually lay their hands upon them, was not clear ... but the two young men clearly took the latter interpretation, and Emily gasped as she felt their hands cupping her breasts.

“Okay!” said Eugene. “Now let’s have the guys smiling, and Emily looking shocked.”

This did not take much acting for Emily, and her expression apparently tickled Eugene. “That’s great, Emily! You’re a natural. How do you think your fiancé will feel, seeing these guys groping your boobs like that?”

“He’ll probably enjoy it,” Emily confessed, then she bit her lip as Carlos and Richie began actively caressing and fondling her breasts.

“Your fiancé is a generous guy!” said Carlos.

“Guys,” said Eugene, “why don’t you pull her knees out a bit further? And lift ‘em up and back a bit. Let’s get a really good look at those panties ... oh ... I guess it’s a thong, huh?”

“Um, I think this might be getting a little ... extreme...?” Emily ventured, as Carlos and Richie pulled her knees well back, so that Eugene could see her thong disappearing between her buttocks.

Eugene was now filming a video. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. “Carlos, my man, let go of her boob and reach down to cover her thong. Mike, you reach down to cover her boob.”

Emily gasped again as Mike eagerly reached down over her shoulder and took hold of her left breast, while Carlos reached down and placed his hand on her thong, cupping her pussy.

“So, when’s the big day?” asked Eugene, still filming. “Have you bought a dress yet?”

“Oh, no,” replied Emily, rather breathless because Carlos was now gently rubbing her pussy through her thong. “We’re not nearly ready for that. We need to become self-sufficient first. That’s why I took this job, actually...” Then the thought of her enormous debt to Blake surged into the forefront of her mind, and tears began to well up as she considered how long that might delay the wedding.

But she had no time to dwell on these thoughts, for at that moment another man walked in. He was in his thirties, with dark skin and very short hair. “Whoa!” he said.

Emily gasped, and brought her legs back down and together as Carlos and Richie released them. Sitting up straight, she extricated her arms from behind the two men, and hastily started buttoning her blouse.

“Awww Isaac, your timing really sucks,” Carlos grumbled.

“Sorry, but we got two trucks waiting,” said Isaac, staring in awe at Emily. “Who’s this?”

“This is Emily,” said Eugene, “Blake’s new assistant. Emily, this is Isaac, our warehouse clerk.”

“Party girl is she?” asked Isaac.

Eugene chuckled, and looked at Emily, who had now re-folded her arms and was staring at the floor in embarrassment. “Naw,” he said, looking a little bemused. “Just a little bird that’s been caged too long and is seeing the sun for the first time, I think. Am I close, Emily?”

This was so unexpectedly insightful that Emily looked up in surprise. “Um ... yes!” she said. “That’s very apt, I’d say.”

Eugene nodded. “Well, duty calls. Nice to meet you, Emily. Good luck in your new job.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“I better go too,” said Carlos reluctantly. “Unless you wanna take this one, Richie?”

“Nah, you go ahead,” said Richie, smiling.

A moment later, Emily found herself alone with Mike and Richie. “Can I get you a drink of something?” Richie asked.

“Um, no, I’m okay thanks,” said Emily, feeling rather awkward.

“Wanna take some more photos?” Richie inquired hopefully.

Emily bit her lip. “I ... I think I’ll just wait for Doug,” she said. “He’s supposed to be taking me back to the office at three.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” said Richie. “He tends to get waylaid a lot; too many demands on his time and attention.”

“Oh!” said Emily, a little dismayed.

“I could take you out to find him,” Mike suggested. “This place isn’t that big; there’s only so many places he could be.”

“Thank you, yes please,” said Emily, picking up her hard hat and safety glasses. “That would be very kind of you.”

Richie snorted a little, but said nothing.

“Come on then,” said Mike.

It was a little surreal to think, as she followed Mike back outside, that this grubby middle-aged man had been fondling her left breast just a few moments ago. She wondered what he thought about that. What he thought about her. Had fondling her breast made him feel happy? Aroused? Frustrated that he had had to stop so soon? Had this been the first time he had touched a woman in a long time, or did he have a wife at home and an active sex life?

It struck her as odd that she was thinking these things now, when it had not occurred to her to think about them before. Of course, she knew Paul had no girlfriend of his own, and that Harry next door was widowed, as was Nick, the waiter at Romano’s. Mack did not have a girlfriend either ... but she could not be sure about Joey, or Alex, or Diego, all good-looking men who certainly would not have difficulty finding a partner. She shivered, and thought to herself, ‘Goodness, what a lot of men I’ve been intimate with! Whatever would Nathan say if he knew the extent of my adventures...?’ And she felt a mixture of guilt and excitement as she recalled all the fingers that had been inside her, the hands on her breasts, the slippery tongues wrestling with hers...

Mike led her to the maintenance shop, where several astonished men and women in overalls stopped what they were doing to stare at the scantily-clad office girl. But Doug was not there and nobody had seen him, so they continued on to the production buildings. There Mike called out to a man with grey hair who was hunched over an archaic-looking computer terminal: “Hey, Fred!”

The man looked up, and Emily almost jumped in alarm. Fred was quite the ugliest man she had ever seen, thanks to extensive scarring over much of his face – caused, she guessed, by a severe burn at some point in his past. His left eye, surrounded and partially obscured by scar tissue, looked odd, and Emily surmised it was probably sightless. A large area of his scalp had been depilated on the same side; he had attempted to cover this up by combing his hair over from the other side. Emily instantly felt terribly sorry for him.

He seemed perfectly happy, though, grinning excitedly when his one good eye took in her skimpy outfit and exposed skin. “Titties....” he said in a low, gravelly voice, his hands half-raised, his fingers twitching eagerly.

“Behave yourself, Fred,” said Mike. “This is Emily – she works at the main office. Emily, this is Fred – I’m afraid he’s a complete pervert, so I’d advise you to keep your distance.”

“Hi,” said Fred, with a lecherous smile. “I love your clothes. They’re so ... small...”

Emily could not help staring at him in fascination. He was so horrible to look at, so disgusting in his manner ... he was like some freaky-looking bug that she had discovered lurking in the corner of the shed. She was both intrigued and repulsed – which was pretty much how she felt about bugs in general. She had to remind herself that Fred was a human being like herself, despite his appearance and behaviour ... indeed, his behaviour was very likely a result of his appearance, and the tough time she imagined he had probably had.

“I’m pleased to meet you,” she said, putting on a friendly smile. “I’m sorry my outfit is so revealing; it was my boss’s idea.”

“Her boss is Blake Butcher,” Mike explained.

“My kinda guy!” said Fred. “Can you turn around for me? I wanna see the back.”

Emily blushed, and glanced at Mike, wondering if he would tell Fred off, but Mike just looked expectantly at her, so after a moment’s hesitation, she turned around slowly, letting Fred feast his eyes on her tiny skirt and long bare legs.

“What a sight!” Fred exclaimed. “You’re a boner-fide sex goddess!”

Emily’s jaw dropped. Nobody had ever spoken to her like this before. The man was outrageous! Still ... a bona fide sex goddess! She was not quite sure how she felt about this compliment, but it did make her shiver a little.

Mike chuckled. “You have no idea, Fred. She let the loaders take sexy photos of her – I even got to feel one of her boobs!”

“No way!” said Fred, impressed. “Damn, wish I’d been there! Wait...” He pulled a phone out of his pocket. “Can I take a sexy photo too?”

“Um, we should really find Doug...”

“Oh, this won’t take a moment,” Mike assured her. “Take one of the two of us together, Fred.” He put his arm around Emily’s waist, and grinned as Fred raised his phone.

“All right, I guess I don’t mind,” said Emily, although they did not appear to be awaiting her permission.

“Smile!” said Fred. Then he took a photo.

“It’s a shame Fred missed out on the good stuff though,” said Mike. “Can we take a couple of sexy ones too?”

“Mike, we really need to find Doug...”

“It’s not three o’clock yet,” said Mike. “Come on – please? Fred may be a pervert, but he’s a lonely guy. It’d be an act of charity.”

Whether he knew it or not, this was a perfect argument to use on the kind-hearted Emily. She nodded. “Okay, you can take a couple of sexy photos. But we’re kind of out in the open here; I’m worried someone will come along...”

“Yeah, that could happen,” Fred agreed. “Come on – let’s go out back. Nobody will disturb us there.” He led them to the far end of the factory floor, and into a corner, where a wooden door permitted egress.

Outside, Emily blinked in the bright sunshine. There were walls on three sides; in front of them was a long stretch of bare ground populated with straggly plants, with the buildings of another industrial site beyond that. Distant figures could be seen walking around, but the immediate visible area of the Innesco site was deserted.

“Okay!” said Fred. “Let’s see you groping those boobs, Mike.”

“Um,” said Emily nervously. She wanted to object, to put the brakes on a little, but she was not sure how best to articulate that. She had, after all, agreed to let Fred take sexy photos of her, and there was an implied understanding that they would be similar to those she had posed for in the warehouse office break room.

Mike took up a position behind her, peering over her right shoulder. Reaching around her, beneath her arms, Mike first attended to her two buttons, unfastening them and untucking her blouse from her skirt. Then he pulled both sides of her blouse wide open.

“Holy guacamole!” said Fred. “Look at those melons! They’re amazing!” He reached down and began massaging his crotch.

His overt and vulgar display of sheer lust was fascinating to Emily. Such appreciation of her breasts certainly meant more coming from someone like Diego, but every little bit helped her to become more proud of them, and more comfortable showing them off. “Thank you,” she said with a smile. Then she shivered as Mike grasped both breasts in his hands, and began sensuously kneading them.

“I love it!” said Fred in delight, taking photo after photo. “Did the skirt come off too?”

“It might as well have done!” said Mike. “She spread her legs and showed her undies.”

“Awesome!” said Fred. “Pull it up then.”

Mike let go of Emily’s breasts, slid his hands down to the sides of her skirt, and hoisted it up around her waist, making her gasp.

“Fantastic!” said Fred, taking another photo. “I love the sexy panties, Emily!”

“It’s a thong,” said Mike. “In the other photo shoot, Carlos covered it up with his hand – like this.” He reached down, and placed his right hand on the front of Emily’s thong, curling his fingers to follow the curve of her pussy.

Fred laughed. “Oh, this is gold!” he said, taking more photos. Then he lowered his phone. “My turn!” He advanced toward Emily, and held out his phone for Mike to take.

Mike reluctantly let go of Emily and took a step back. “I’ll use my own phone,” he said. “So far it doesn’t have any sexy photos on it.”

“I’ll send mine to you,” said Fred with a shrug. “But fine, use yours. Just send me any you take!”

“I will,” Mike promised.

“Will you send them to me, too?” asked Emily. “Please?” Nathan would enjoy at least some of the photos, she was sure.

“Sure thing, sex goddess!” said Fred. “I’ll need your number though.”

“I have it,” said Mike. “I’ll text it to you.”

The two men swapped positions, and Fred eagerly clutched Emily’s breasts while peering down at them over her shoulder. “Jesus Christ!” he said. “These things feel amazing!”

“Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain!” said Emily anxiously.

“Huh?” said Fred. “Oh ... sorry. Are you like super religious?”

“You could say that,” Emily admitted. “It’s just how I was raised.”

“Well that makes this all the sweeter!” said Fred happily. “These titties though – they’re unbelievable! The only other pair I ever got to feel was my ex-girlfriend’s, and she was in her seventies. They were kinda saggy and floppy and shapeless ... nothing like these! Whoooaahhhh! Woohoo! Vroom vroom!”

He was squeezing, shaking, and jiggling her breasts as he said all this, as thrilled as a child with an exciting new toy. Emily was inclined to feel a little indignant about this irreverent treatment of her body parts, but his sense of giddy delight was palpable, and she did not have the heart to pour cold water on it.

Then he let go, and slipped her blouse off her shoulders. “How about we take this off?” he suggested. “It’s not really necessary if your boobs are already out.”

“Good point!” Mike agreed.

“Yes, I thought so,” said Fred, pulling her sleeves down to her wrists.

“Guys...” said Emily uncomfortably, but her will to resist was weak. These horrible men were undressing her! It was a little scary, but undeniably exciting.

Fred tugged her sleeves off her wrists, and with that she was fully topless. Then he tugged her skirt down, and unzipped it. “Might as well take this off too! Since it’s not covering your butt or your underwear...”

“Okay, but that’s enough,” said Emily firmly, feeling like she ought to assert some control over the situation.

“Right,” said Fred. “The thong stays on. Got it. But holy hell, Mike, have you seen this ass?” He pulled her skirt all the way down to her ankles, and planted a kiss on her left buttock. “Mwah! What a beauty!”

His boldness was breathtaking. As she stepped out of her skirt, he caught her around the waist and hugged her close. Then he reached up and grabbed her left breast with his left hand, while sliding his right hand down her belly to cup her pussy through her thong.

“Ohh goodness,” muttered Emily nervously as he began to massage her pussy through the material.

“This is a great show, guys!” said Mike, now filming a video. “Keep it going!”

Fred chuckled. “It’d be my pleasure,” he said. “God, I can’t believe I’m actually doing this! It’s like a dream come true!”

Emily could hardly believe it either. But there was no denying she was getting rather excited; she could feel her thong getting wet as Fred explored the contours of her labia and clitoris through the flimsy material. “Just another photo or two,” she murmured, “and then I should put my clothes back on.”

“Okay,” said Fred, “but how about a little kiss first?” He turned his face towards her, and leaned in, trying to reach her mouth with his.

The thought of kissing this monster was both horrifying and strangely erotic. The tale of Beauty and the Beast flashed through her mind. ‘Nathan would love it if I kissed this man,’ she thought to herself. Who could be less of a threat to their engagement than the ugliest man she had ever met? So she turned her head, and found herself locking lips with Fred, as Mike whooped in delight.

“Yeah!” cried Mike excitedly. “Kiss her, Fred! Get your tongue in there!”

Emily felt wonderfully perverted herself as she slipped her tongue into Fred’s mouth. He tasted awful, like rotting garbage, but somehow this nastiness only made her more aroused. She moaned softly, revelling in how disgusting this was, loving the way he was squeezing her breast and stroking her clitoris while he kissed her. It suddenly occurred to her that he had slipped his hand inside the front of her thong at some point during their kiss ... but she did not mind this at all.

It was only when he began to pull down her thong that she decided enough was enough. “Sorry,” she said breathlessly, “but I really think that’s enough photos and we should go and find Doug!”

“Okay,” said Fred, bending down as he tugged her thong down to her ankles. “Just one more photo, then. A naked one. Come on, that’ll be fun, right?”

“Yeah!” said Mike.

Emily had slapped her right hand over her pussy as it became uncovered, but she found herself lifting her feet, one after the other, as Fred helped her out of her thong. “All right, one last photo,” she said reluctantly.

“Awesome!” said Fred, standing up. He positioned himself next to her, putting his left arm around her waist and facing Mike. Then he glanced down at her hand. “Put your arm around me,” he instructed her.

Emily did so, but stubbornly switched her right hand for her left. Fred grunted. “If you want to stay covered up,” he said, “I’ll do it.” He reached over, and slid his hand between hers and her pussy. Emily let her left arm fall to her side, shivering as Fred’s middle finger began squirming between her labia. Up and down it slid, getting wet with her juices, until without warning he slipped it into her vagina. Emily squealed, but did not try to stop him.

“That’s great!” said Mike in delight. “Smile!”

Emily’s smile was red-cheeked and anxious; Fred’s was an almost manic grin. His finger inside her was not resting idly; he was thrusting it in and out, rapidly stroking her g-spot. Emily’s breathing was getting heavier; her eyes began to roll upwards as her eyelids dropped. “I’m gonna make you cum,” he whispered smugly in her ear.

Emily did not respond, but she was not opposed to this plan. With her eyes now closed, she felt him turn to face her and move in front of her, but she was nonetheless a little startled by the sensation of his lips on her right nipple, sucking it into his mouth. And not just her nipple; he seemed to have opened his mouth wide, as if he was trying to devour her whole breast at once. Of course there was no chance of this, but he was sucking so hard that he was practically filling his mouth with her breast flesh, while swirling his tongue around her nipple.

Then she felt another pair of lips on her left breast. Opening her eyes in surprise, she looked down to see two grey hairy heads attached to her chest, two mouths sucking noisily on her nipples. And while Fred continued to finger-fuck her vagina – now with two fingers – Mike was squeezing and caressing her left buttock with his right hand. His fingers worked their way gradually into the deep cleft of her bottom, and then he found her anus, and began to wiggle his middle finger inside. This was a little painful without lubricant, but Emily strained, as if trying to poop, and that helped. Slowly, knuckle after knuckle, Mike managed to sink his whole finger into her rectum.

Emily grabbed the backs of their heads with her hands as her orgasm approached. Then, holding them tightly against her breasts, she moaned loudly as she shuddered in a climax that almost made her knees buckle. She felt Fred’s thrusting fingers slow down, and as she panted in the aftermath, she realised both men were uttering muffled sounds of increasing agitation.

“Oh!” she said, letting go of their heads.

Their fingers slid out of her as they staggered back, gasping for breath. “I couldn’t breathe!” said Mike, his face red.

“Me neither!” said Fred. “For a moment I thought I was gonna pass out. What a way to go, though, huh?”

“I’m so sorry!” said Emily, aghast at the thought that she might have come close to suffocating these two men.

“No need to apologise!” said Fred cheerfully. “This has been the best experience of my life!”

“Mine too,” Mike panted. “But we should probably get you back to Doug before he sends out a search party.”

Emily glanced at her watch. “Yes! It’s three o’clock,” she said anxiously. She quickly got dressed, while Mike and Fred took a few more photos of her.

“Can I get a kiss too?” asked Mike hopefully.

Emily hesitated, then nodded. It would hardly be fair to Mike to deny him a kiss, when she had let his far uglier friend kiss her. With a slightly resigned smile, she stepped up to Mike, put her arms around his neck, and closed her eyes as he eagerly pressed his lips to hers.

He tasted considerably less bad than Fred, though from the roughness of his teeth she guessed that he was not particularly diligent in his oral hygiene habits. As she explored his mouth with her tongue, she felt Fred, behind her, hoist her skirt up around her waist. This was a little annoying, but hardly a novel liberty, and it would take her no time to pull it down again. So she let him play with her buttocks, while Mike reached into both sides of her blouse and fondled her breasts.

Then she pulled away. “Okay, I’d like to go now,” she said, tugging her skirt down.

Mike nodded. “I’ll take you back to the warehouse office; Doug might be there by now.”

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Emily,” said Fred, grinning.

Emily blushed. “Likewise,” she said. “This was an ... interesting experience. Goodbye Fred.”

“Bye Emily!” he said.

Emily accompanied Mike back to the office where she had met Doug, but he was not there. Richie was, however, along with a bushy-eyebrowed man of about fifty, who stared in astonishment at Emily’s clothes. “Who are you?” he wanted to know.

“This is Emily,” said Richie. “Blake Butcher’s new assistant. Emily, this is Stan, the warehouse manager. My boss.”

“Pleased to meet you!” said Stan gruffly. “But why are you dressed like that?”

“This is the uniform Blake wants me to wear,” said Emily in embarrassment, folding her arms across her chest.

Stan rolled his eyes. “That man!” he said. “Well, welcome to our office, I guess. What brings you here?”

“Doug was giving me a tour of the mill,” said Emily, taking off her hat and safety glasses. “It was very interesting!”

“She was off the clock at three, though,” said Mike. “She needs Doug to take her back to the main office.”

“Well I can do that,” said Stan. “If you’re ready to go, Emily?”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Thank you. I just need to change my shoes.”

This was soon accomplished, and then Emily climbed into Stan’s car, and he drove her out of the industrial park. “So what did you think of our little operation?” Stan asked her.

“Very interesting!” she said. “I’ve seen weaving done before, but not on an industrial scale. There are so many chemicals involved! And the machines are huge!”

Stan chuckled. “We’re actually pretty small, as fabric manufacturers go,” he said. “But we make good products, and that keeps us in the market.” He was silent for a few moments. Then he said, “Does it not bother you, having to wear a uniform like that?”

Emily shivered. “Not as much as it ought to, I guess,” she said. “I’m from a very religious community; wearing clothes like these would be unthinkable in the village I grew up in. But ... I don’t know ... I guess it’s kind of ... exciting...?”

Stan chuckled. “Seems Blake got lucky then,” he said. “Just don’t let him bully you. He likes to have people under his thumb.”

Emily groaned unhappily at this unintentional reminder of her predicament. “Yes, I’m getting that impression,” she said. “But ... I’ll be all right. Thank you.”

“So, am I dropping you off in the parking lot?” Stan asked, abruptly changing the subject. “Do you have a car?”

“No,” said Emily. “You can just drop me outside the front entrance. Although ... I have my bag, so I don’t actually need to go in...” She bit her lip. “Would you mind taking me just a tiny bit further, to my fiancé’s apartment building?”

“Not at all,” said Stan. “Listen, Emily ... my crew in the warehouse ... they’re not exactly the most genteel of guys. Did they ... treat you okay? I’m not going to let your outfit excuse any bad behaviour on their part. If any of them said or did something inappropriate, I’d like to know about it.”

Emily paused, thinking about this. “Thank you, Stan,” she said. “But I have no complaints to make. Men will be men, and I don’t mind being ... appreciated.”

“Hmm,” said Stan. “That’s all very well, but don’t buy into that ‘men will be men’ crap. Men are perfectly capable of controlling themselves if they want to. You ought to be able to walk anywhere in our facility, while wearing that outfit, and not get catcalled or whistled at or sexually harassed or any of that shit. I don’t know if you plan to visit us again in the future, but I want you to know that you don’t have to put up with any of that kind of thing. If any of my guys ... or anyone at all on the site, in fact ... says or does anything that makes you uncomfortable, please come to me about it. I’ll put a stop to it.”

Emily was rather stunned and baffled by this. “Thank you, Stan,” she said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” But she knew she was unlikely to take him up on this offer. Fred’s behaviour toward her certainly fit Stan’s description, but she had no desire to report the ugly old man for it. What if he got fired as a result? What if he could not get another job, and lost his home? She could not bear to have that on her conscience. Nothing had happened to her that she could not have prevented, had she really wanted to. At least, not at the factory. The only really bad thing to have happened to her today was being falsely accused of stealing eighty thousand dollars ... and being told she would have to pay it back.

The thought of that made her feel sick, and she quickly tried to put it out of her mind. Fortunately they were approaching the office; it was time to start giving Stan directions. “Just keep going ... straight through the lights ahead,” she said.

Before long, Stan was pulling up outside Nathan’s building. “Thank you!” said Emily. “I really appreciate the ride!”

“Don’t mention it,” said Stan. “I hope we’ll meet again soon.”

“Me too!” said Emily, and she meant it. Stan seemed like a good man. “Bye Stan.”

She walked up to the front door of the building, and buzzed Nathan’s apartment. Mack answered, and unlocked the door for her. She entered, climbed the stairs, and Mack let her into the apartment.

“Is Nathan out?” she asked, setting her bag down next to the couch.

“He didn’t tell you?” inquired Mack in surprise. “He’s at that hardware store; he got the job.”

“He did?” Emily exclaimed. “Oh! That’s wonderful news! I wonder why he didn’t text me?”

“He may not have had time,” said Mack. “They called him while he was still in bed; he had to scramble to get ready and out the door so he could get there by ten o’clock. He’ll be working there until six.”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Wow ... well ... perhaps I should go see him!”

“Totally!” said Mack. Then he grinned. “But before you go, how about taking some more photos...?”

Emily shivered. “He did ask for some more,” she admitted. “I just don’t want to send him anything too explicit...”

Mack nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But nudity is fine, right?”

“Yes, apparently,” said Emily, her eyes widening a little. Her loins were beginning to tingle; given how yesterday’s photo shoot had gone, she guessed that today’s was likely to be equally intense.

“Then let’s get you out of these clothes,” said Mack, smiling as he stepped forward, reaching for the buttons on her blouse.

She let him undress her, squirming slightly as he pulled her thong down. Nervously, she covered her pussy as she stepped out of the thong, then kicked off her shoes. “I wonder if Nathan’s tidied his room since yesterday...”

“Let’s check,” said Mack.

Emily followed Mack through to Nathan’s room. It was a bit of a mess, but at least the bed was clear. “All right,” said Mack, “why don’t you get on Nathan’s bed, lying on your front, propped up on your elbows?”

This seemed quite tame, compared with some of the photos they had taken yesterday, so Emily flopped down on Nathan’s bed without hesitation. She supported herself on her elbows, then looked back at Mack, who was about eight feet away and approximately level with her knees.

“Hmm,” said Mack. “Can you let your hair down? I think it might look better.”

“Sure,” said Emily. She rolled on to her side, reached behind her head, and swiftly unbraided her hair. Shaking it out, she rolled back on to her elbows, and smiled at Mack. “Better?”

“Much!” said Mack. “Now, uh ... can you bend your right knee, about ninety degrees? Point your right foot straight upward. Yup ... now tilt your head downward a bit... No, not like that ... more kind of sideways ... yes! Just like that.” He took a photo, then, nodding with satisfaction, he brought his phone over to show her.

“I like it!” said Emily happily. “It looks very artistic. Very different from...” Then she stopped, realising she did not want to tell Mack about her photo shoots at the Innesco factory.

But he was not about to let it go. “Different from what?” he asked, intrigued.

She blushed. “I ... I kind of ... posed for some other photos ... earlier this afternoon.”

Mack laughed. “Good for you,” he said. “I guess it’s not surprising; I’m sure every guy you meet wants to take photos of you. And you’re unusually ... obliging ... for such a beautiful woman.”

Emily groaned. “Oh goodness, I’m really turning into a bad girl, aren’t I?” she said mournfully. “I seem to be stripping naked for everyone these days!”

Mack shrugged. “That doesn’t make you a bad girl,” he said. “Unwise, perhaps. And by the standards of your community and family, I’m sure, rather shocking. But others would argue that you’re simply embracing life. If you enjoy posing naked for photos, why shouldn’t you do just that?”

“Because it’s, like you said, unwise?” Emily suggested.

“Well, maybe,” said Mack. “Obviously there are reasons why most women don’t go around shedding their clothes multiple times a day for unpaid photo shoots. Firstly, a lot of men would pay good money to take nude photos of a beautiful woman, so why should she do it for free? Secondly, most women would be afraid of such photos getting out and being used against them. They might fear for their jobs, their relationships, their reputations...”

“Good thing Nathan likes me posing naked for other men, then,” said Emily ruefully. “And I’m not sure I need to worry about losing my job. My boss seems to want me as underdressed as possible, and he’s pretty much...” She was about to say ‘blackmailing me into staying on without pay’, but thought better of it. “I mean, he’s kind of a jerk, so it wouldn’t be a huge loss if he did fire me.”

“That’s a shame,” said Mack sympathetically. “What about your family, though? What if they found naked photos of you online?”

Emily turned pale at the thought. “Is that likely, do you think?”

Mack shrugged. “Hard to say,” he said. “Probably not, unless they were tipped off. There’s a whole lot of naked women on the internet. The odds are against accidental discovery. It’s more likely that someone you know, who knows about the photos, would tip off someone else you know, who lets someone else know, and it gets back to your family that way.” But then, seeing Emily’s worried expression, he added with a grin, “But you have nothing to fear from me. I’ll share these photos with you and Nathan, but nobody else. That’s a promise.”

Emily nodded, and smiled. “Well I have to admit it’s a lot of fun, posing for naughty photos,” she admitted. “It’s just so unlike anything I’ve ever done before. It’s so ... wild! And dangerous! And exciting!”

Mack chuckled. “I shall try not to disappoint. Let’s have you on your side in this next one, facing me. Elbow ... yup. Put your other hand on your hip; give me some attitude. Legs ... no, keep them together, one on top of the other. Might as well give Nathan a nice pussy shot, huh?”

Emily blushed. “Like this?”

“Perfect.” Mack took another photo. “Now something a little naughtier ... get on all fours, and into a position where it looks like you’re crawling. Not like a baby crawling, though ... more like a cat. Back arched ... ass sticking up ... yeah... Left knee further forward – I want just a tiny glimpse of what’s between your legs. Now look back at me, and give me a mischievous look. Good!” He came over to show Emily the latest two photos. “What do you think? Okay for Nathan?”

“The first one’s fine,” said Emily. “I’m not sure about the second; what do you think?”

Mack looked at it again. “It’s a nice shot,” he said. “But if in doubt, I’d suggest not sending it just yet. You can always change your mind later. You can’t change your mind once you’ve sent it.”

“That’s true,” Emily agreed.

Mack grinned. “Now let’s take some that Nathan totally isn’t ready for yet.”

Emily bit her lip. “What do you have in mind?”

“Lie on your back,” said Mack. “And spread your legs, with the soles of your feet pressed together.”

Emily complied, keeping her pussy covered with her hand. “I feel like we did this last time,” she said.

“Not quite,” said Mack, setting up the phone on Nathan’s desk, propped up against a mug. He set the timer for ten seconds, then quickly walked to the bed and crawled on to it, planting his hands between her feet and her pussy. “Hands by your sides!” he instructed her, with such urgency that she immediately complied. Then he bent his head down, and pressed his lips to her pussy, making her gasp in shock ... just as the picture took.

“Mmmm,” said Mack, grinning as he lifted his head. “Tasty.” Then he went back to kissing her pussy.

“Mack!” said Emily breathlessly. “I think you got the photo!”

He was now sucking on her clitoris. But after a few seconds, he raised his head and sighed. “Yeah, I guess I’d better set another one up.” He climbed off the bed to retrieve his phone. Then he turned and smirked at Emily. “I guess I kinda blindsided you with that one. Was it okay though? Did you mind?”

Emily’s cheeks blazed. “No,” she confessed. “I didn’t mind.”

“Is it okay if I take off my clothes?” asked Mack. “It seems to be getting hot in here...”

“If you want to,” said Emily awkwardly. She was still lying with her legs wide apart and her pussy uncovered. Part of her wanted to put her hand over it; another part was getting a huge thrill out of being so lewdly exposed.

Mack finished disrobing, and set up the phone again. “Get on your hands and knees,” he said. “Feet on the pillow.” He waited until she was in position, then he started the timer, and quickly climbed on to the bed in front of Emily. Kneeling up, he shuffled forward as she stared wide-eyed at his erect cock. “Pretend to kiss it!” he said. “Get your mouth as close as you’re comfortable with.”

Emily leaned forward, and kissed the tip of his cock as the photo took.

“Holy cow!” he said. “You went above and beyond, Emily! Thank you!” Then he gasped, as she parted her lips and slid them down his cock, engulfing its bulbous head in her mouth. “Jeez!”

She withdrew, and giggled. “Sorry,” she said. “That was a bit naughty, wasn’t it!”

“That was amazing!” said Mack. “Um ... wow! Emily ... would you be willing to do that again, in a photo? I mean ... obviously we wouldn’t send it to Nathan. Not yet at least. Not until we figure out if it’s something he’d get a kick out of...”

Emily shrugged. “I ... guess so?” she said. “As long as you absolutely promise nobody will see it except for you and me ... and maybe Nathan, later.”

“I absolutely promise,” he said solemnly. Then he hurried over to his phone, and started a video recording. “Is video okay?” he asked. “I can take screenshots, and it’ll mean I don’t have to keep going back to the phone.”

“Um ... sure...” said Emily, slightly uneasily.

Mack eagerly resumed his former position, kneeling in front of Emily. She took hold of his erection with one hand, guided it into her mouth, and began to suck.

“Oh God!” Mack gasped. “Best day ever! Thank you ... thank you...”

After a minute or so, however, he could feel his orgasm approaching. “Wait!” he said urgently. “Stop a minute. I don’t want to cum just yet.”

Emily drew back, and sat up on her heels, looking at him expectantly.

Mack grinned. “Time for another photo. Are you up for something super naughty?”

Emily shivered. She wanted to say “YES!”, but settled for “Um, maybe...”

Mack hurried to his phone, and switched to photo mode. “Okay,” he said. “Get on your elbows and knees. Do you trust me?”

This made Emily feel quite nervous, but she was already getting on to her hands and knees. “Yes,” she said, lowering herself down on to her elbows. She arched her back, knowing it would make her bottom stick up lewdly.

“Knees apart a bit,” said Mack. He started the timer, then quickly climbed on to the bed behind Emily. Kneeling up, he grabbed her hips with his hands, then eased his cock forward until its tip was nudging against her pussy. “Smile at the camera!” he instructed her, then he turned and smiled too.

As soon as the phone’s light had blinked for the final time, he jumped off the bed and went to see the result. Pulling up the photo, he laughed out loud in delight. “Holy shit!” he said. “You gotta see this, Emily! It’s SO hot!” He brought the phone over to the bed, and showed it to her.

Emily stared at the photo. “Oh ... my goodness!” she gasped. It looked exactly like Mack was having sex with her. His cock was half hidden behind her left buttock, clearly aimed at her vagina. He was holding her hips, and grinning at the camera. And she was smiling too. If she had not known better, she would have assumed that Mack was genuinely buried inside her. Genuinely thrusting his cock inside her. It was – she had to agree with him – hot. Incredibly hot. So hot that it made her whole body flush with excitement at the sheer unabashed eroticism of it.

“What do you think?” Mack asked, suddenly anxious. “You know this photo is safe with me, right?”

Emily nodded. “Mack ... it’s ... it’s incredibly exciting. I love it. Can we ... maybe do more like this?”

He grinned. “Of course! We’re just getting started! Let’s try a different position, shall we?”

“Okay,” said Emily, getting quite breathless with anticipation.

“Lie on your side, facing my phone,” he said, “but with your back arched so your butt’s angled a little away from it. That should be good, yeah.” He set up his phone again, started the timer, and dashed to the bed. He only had ten seconds; he hoped it would be enough. Lying down behind Emily, he grabbed her left leg under her knee, and lifted it upward. “Hold that there,” he said hurriedly, then he let go so that he could carefully position his cock. Emily gasped as she felt it nudge against her vaginal opening. Then “Look excited!” Mack instructed her as he caught her leg again with his left hand. Propped up on his right elbow, he grinned lustfully down at her breasts as his phone took the photo.

Then he climbed off again, and took a look at his phone. “Yes!” he said victoriously. “It worked. Check it out.”

Emily stared at the photo. Once again it looked like she was being fucked from behind, only this time she could actually see her pussy, and it really looked like Mack’s cock was going inside her, since the angle in which she was positioned meant her vagina was just out of sight behind the mound of her vulva. “I don’t much like my expression in this one,” she said, “but it’s another amazingly erotic photo. Oh, Mack! This is so crazy! What if Nathan saw these photos?”

Mack shrugged. “He won’t. Unless you decide he’s ready to see them. But we can explain to him, at that time, that we weren’t actually having sex. We can even recreate the poses, if necessary, so he can see for himself.”

Emily nodded. “Can we keep going?”

“Of course!” said Mack. “On your back, now, please.”

Emily got on her back, but this time Mack waited for her, rather than run to his phone. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll explain this one, and we’ll practise it, before I go and start the timer. That last one was a bit of a rush and I’d prefer to have had more time to get it just right. This should be less complicated, but practice will help.”

“Okay,” said Emily.

“Let’s have your knees up and your legs spread wide,” said Mack.

Emily could hardly believe how willingly – even eagerly – she now spread her legs for Mack, despite the fact that he was staring hungrily at her indecently exposed pussy and vagina. He could no doubt see her anus too; she did not care.

Mack knelt down in front of her, then he leaned forward, planting his hands either side of her chest. Lowering his loins toward her pussy, he reached back and guided his cock until its head was pressing against her opening once again. He bent his head toward her, and grinned. “How about a little kiss?” he asked.

“Okay,” she replied breathlessly.

“Really?” he said in surprise. “Wow – okay!” He put his lips on hers, and then slipped his tongue into her mouth as she opened it. While their tongues played with each other, he took hold of her left breast and began massaging it. He was very aware that his erect penis was practically entering her; one firm thrust, and he would have taken her virginity. He broke off from the kiss and grinned. “One little push and I’ll be inside you. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“Please don’t,” she whispered. “I ... I almost want you to ... actually I really want you to ... and I certainly couldn’t stop you if you did. And I wouldn’t blame you for it, or be angry with you.”

“Then,” he said, puzzled, “why shouldn’t I?” He began to press forward, and her opening started to expand to accommodate the girth of his cock’s bulbous head. She was by now extremely wet with her own juices; lubrication would not be a problem.

“Because it would be a betrayal of Nathan!” said Emily urgently.

Mack shook his head. “I like Nathan a lot,” he said. “But I like you a hell of a lot more. That’s not enough reason.”

“Because,” said Emily desperately, “I’m asking you not to.”

Mack paused ... and then pulled back a little. “That’s reason enough for me,” he said. “I won’t enter you until you tell me I can.” He smiled. “All right, I guess that’s enough practice; I’ll go start the timer.”

Emily felt both relieved and disappointed as he climbed off her. She had almost resigned herself to losing her virginity to Mack – if he had entered her, after she had expressly asked him not to, then he would have been forcing her to have sex with him against her will. She could have relaxed, and allowed herself to enjoy it, knowing that she had done all she could to remain faithful to Nathan. It would not have been her fault.

It would, however, have been a disaster. Hence the relief. She had no desire to trade Nathan for Mack; she was firmly committed to marrying Nathan, and nothing was going to change that. Losing her virginity to another man, however, would almost certainly drive Nathan away. He would cancel the engagement ... and he was such a handsome man, he would almost certainly find solace in another woman’s arms in no time at all. So it was a good thing that Mack had respected her wishes. A very good thing. She was lucky that he was a man of principle.

Having set the timer, Mack climbed on top of her again, positioned his cock, and brought his face down toward hers. At some point during the ensuing kiss, the photo took, but they remained locked at the lips for a considerable time thereafter, both hyper-focused on the sensation of the tip of Mack’s cock lodged in the opening of Emily’s vagina. He was gently thrusting it, with an amplitude of half an inch at the most – and little by little, it was working its way inward.

Emily pushes against his chest. “Mack...” she said nervously.

“Yeah, I know, best stop there,” he agreed. He climbed off her, and went to check his phone. “Not bad,” he reported, “although it’s a little hard to see my cock in this one.” He brought the phone over to show Emily.

“Oh I don’t know, I really like this one,” said Emily. “It totally looks like you’re having sex with me, and kissing me at the same time. It’s very erotic.”

Mack smiled. “Glad you like it!” he said. “But I have something else in mind for the next one.”

“Okay!” said Emily happily. She was having a wonderful time.

Mack climbed back on to the bed, and knelt in front of her again. Then he shuffled forward, spreading his knees, until his cock was touching Emily’s pussy. Carefully positioning himself so that the glistening tip of his erection was lodged in her opening once more, he raised the phone to the level of his chin, and pointed it downward. From here the camera could see Emily’s face as well as her pussy and his cock. “Smile,” he said.

Emily smiled shyly, and he took the photo. “Nice,” he said. Then he switched to video mode, and began recording. “Would you be willing to say something super naughty for me?”

“Like what?” Emily inquired.

“I want you to say, ‘Mack, I want your cock inside me.’”

Emily’s eyes widened. “But ... I don’t! Are you taking video?”

“Yes,” Mack confirmed. “Don’t worry – I’m not going to put it in. I just think it’d be awesome to have you say it while I’m positioned like this.”

Emily bit her lip. “But ... if it isn’t true ... I don’t know, I’m not sure I can say it. It feels like I’d be asking you to put it in me. And I don’t want you to.”

“Hmm,” said Mack. “Do you want me to put it in your mouth?”

Emily blushed. “Maybe,” she conceded. “Yes, I guess I do want that. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

“Damn!” said Mack, impressed. “Okay ... well, your mouth is inside you, right? So it’s not like you’d be lying.”

“That’s true!” Emily agreed. “Well ... if you promise you won’t put it in...”

Mack grinned. “And eliminate all sense of danger? No. I’m not gonna promise. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Emily’s upper body was glowing with arousal. “Okay,” she said. “Are you recording now?”

“Yup,” said Mack. He adjusted his cock, so it was a little more firmly lodged in her opening.

Emily placed her hands on Mack’s thighs, and looked up at the little camera lens on the back of his phone. “I want you to put your cock inside me, Mack,” she said earnestly. “I want you to cum inside me.” Then, after a slight pause, she grinned. “How was that?”

“Holy shit!” said Mack. “That was awesome! Wait, let me just...” With a few taps and swipes, he edited the video down to just the part he wanted. Then he pulled her leg across in front of himself, and flopped down to lie next to her. “Here, look.” He started the video playing.

Emily’s eyes were wide as she watched herself lying naked with her legs obscenely spread, and Mack’s cock looking deeper inside her than she would have guessed it would. And she was looking very aroused as she said huskily, “I want you to put your cock inside me, Mack. I want you to cum inside me.”

Mack laughed. “Isn’t that just the naughtiest, hottest thing?” he asked. He turned toward her, reaching down to caress her pussy with his hand.

Emily nodded. “It’s like ... we’re so incredibly close to having sex ... but we’re not going to. It feels so wild, and dangerous, and exciting!” Then she moaned with pleasure as he sank two fingers inside her. “Oh yes ... probe me with your fingers, Mack...”

He grinned at her. “I want to finger you in front of Nathan,” he said.

Emily thought about this. “I guess he might like that ... I don’t know, though.”

“What if he didn’t realise I was doing it?” Mack asked.

Emily shivered. “I don’t know – that seems a little mean, I guess.”

“Meaner than me fingering you in his bed, while he’s at work?” Mack inquired.

Emily bit her lip, feeling suddenly guilty. “Somehow, yes ... although I’m starting to feel worse and worse about what we’re doing now.”

“Maybe it’s time you asked him to clarify the rules,” Mack suggested. “After all, you haven’t done anything you know he’d disapprove of, and he’s been quite ... open ... to certain kinds of naughtiness on your part. But you’d feel a lot better, I’m sure, if you understood where the line is drawn.”

“I would,” Emily admitted. “You’re right – I think it’s time he and I had a candid talk about things. These past few days have been ... just crazy ... and a bunch of stuff has happened that I haven’t yet told him about. It’s time I fixed that.”

“In the meantime,” said Mack, “how about we finish up our photo shoot?”

Emily nodded. “What’s next?”

Mack removed his fingers, and grinned. “Get up on top of me, kneeling astride my waist,” he said. “Then lower yourself on to my cock. I think it’ll make a great photo.”

“Sounds dangerous!” said Emily, with a nervous giggle. “But at least I’ll be in control, I guess.” As she got up, Mack moved over a little, centring himself on the bed. Emily threw her knee across him, and adopted a kneeling position, with her vagina poised directly above his still fully erect cock. As she lowered herself down, she reached beneath herself, took hold of Mack’s erection, and guided it to her vaginal opening, gasping as she felt it press into her slightly.

“Ohhh yeah,” muttered Mack contentedly. He held up his phone, and started recording a video. “Tell me again where you want my cock, Emily.”

Emily felt as if her loins were on fire. Electricity seemed to be coursing through her body. Her vagina was lubricating like crazy, wanting, trying to be penetrated. She began kneading her breasts as she pressed herself down on Mack’s cock, revelling in the feeling of her vaginal opening slowly expanding around his engorged glans. This was so dangerous! Intoxicatingly, deliciously dangerous! “Ohh...” she murmured. “I want your cock inside me, Mack! I want to feel it deep inside! I want to feel it spurting in me...”

Mack gripped her thighs, pulling them downward, hoping, hoping...

Suddenly, Emily dropped downward a little, as gravity finally overcame tightness and friction. Emily squealed, and climbed off Mack in a panic. Sitting down and backing up against the wall next to Nathan’s bed, she hugged her knees and stared at Mack in shock.

“Whoa!” said Mack.

Emily uttered a wall of despair, and put her face in her hands. “Oh, that was so stupid!” she groaned. “I can’t believe I let that happen. Made it happen! I can’t believe I just ... lost my virginity! Ohhh ... my life is ruined! All for a few moments of...”

“Now hold on,” said Mack calmly. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It only went in a little way. In fact I think only the head went in. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t count as taking your virginity.”

“You’re very kind for saying so, Mack,” said Emily morosely, “but I ... I felt it. I felt something ... give. I think it was my ... my hymen.”

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” said Mack, with more carefree confidence than he felt. “Or maybe it was just the walls of your vagina expanding to fit my highly impressive cock. Wait ... shit ... are you bleeding? This is Nathan’s bed, remember.”

“Oh ... oh goodness!”Emily gasped. She hastily got up and looked down at where she had been sitting. There was no sign of blood. Kneeling up, she reached between her legs, and cautiously slid a finger inside her vagina. When she pulled it out ... again, no blood.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Well I’m no expert, but I’d say that’s a good sign you lost your hymen already at some point,” said Mack. “Or you never had one to begin with. Some girls are just born without one. But it’s irrelevant, either way. Your virginity isn’t tied to your hymen. You can lose your hymen just by riding a bike. On the other hand, some women keep theirs even after having sex a bunch of times.”

“Really?” asked Emily, astonished by this news. “How do you know so much about it?”

Mack shrugged. “I read,” he said. “I was always fascinated by anatomy at school.”

“So,” said Emily, feeling rather bemused, “what defines virginity, in that case?”

“Whether or not you’ve been fucked,” said Mack, “I guess.”

“Language, Mack,” she said reproachfully.

“Sorry,” he said. “Whether or not you’ve had sex, then. And frankly, we haven’t. Part of my cock went inside you, but that doesn’t count as far as I’m concerned. I don’t feel like we’ve had sex; do you?”

“Not really,” Emily conceded.

“Then you’re still a virgin,” said Mack, “and you can stop looking so worried. We had a near-miss, that’s all.”

“Okay!” said Emily, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. “Gosh that was close though! We need to be more careful.”

Mack nodded. “All right,” he said. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m still super horny. I think we should go to my room, climb into bed, and give each other a nice orgasm. No photos, no flirting with disaster by almost having sex ... just some nice fingering or...”

“I could give you a blowjob,” Emily suggested hopefully.

“That would be acceptable,” said Mack, grinning. “Come on then.”

They carried their clothes through to Mack’s room, and climbed into his bed. Emily was prepared to simply start sucking Mack’s cock, but apparently he was not in a hurry to climax. He began kissing her, and stroking her pussy, and she kissed him back and spread her thighs for him, moaning softly as he slid a finger inside her.

Then he stopped kissing her. “I want to fuck you,” he said. “Properly.”

“Mack...” said Emily uncomfortably.

But he just grinned, while stroking her g-spot rhythmically. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to climb on top of you and shove it all the way in,” he said. “I’m just saying, that’s what I want to do. And I think you want me to do it, too.”

“I...” said Emily, breathing heavily. “It’s not that I don’t want it...”

“Then say what you want,” he urged her. “Obviously I’m not going to actually do it; we’ve established that. You have to wait for Nathan. I understand and respect that. But let’s just talk about what we want. Trust me not to act on your words. Let go of your reserve; just give in to the moment. I’ll keep you safe.”

He was now fucking her with two fingers, and Emily’s eyes were closed. Arching her back, she moaned, then whispered, “I do want it, Mack. I want your cock inside me. Inside my vagina. I want you to shove it in me, all the way in. I want to feel you filling me up, thrusting deep into me. I want to feel your cum spilling out of you and into me...”

“Yes, yes!” said Mack excitedly. “I want to cum inside you! I want to make a baby in you, Emily.”

“Ohhhh!!” moaned Emily, writhing her hips and pushing her pelvis against his hand. “Yes ... make me pregnant, Mack! I want my belly to swell with your baby in me! Ahhhh ... ahhhhh ... AHHHHHH!!” She shuddered uncontrollably as her orgasm hit her like a tornado, her thoughts and emotions spinning chaotically as she ascended a vortex of sheer pleasure, before crashing down in a heap, gasping for breath and utterly drained of energy.

Mack grinned. “That seemed like a good one. I’ll just give you some time to recover; I don’t need you to reciprocate right now.”

“But I want to!” she panted. “Just ... give me a minute to catch my breath.”

“Okay,” he said.

“That was so intense!” she said, half-opening her eyes. “Wow. I can’t believe I said those things...”

“The important thing to remember,” said Mack, “is that in a fantasy, you can think anything and say anything. It doesn’t have to mean you’re outlining a plan for yourself. It doesn’t have to mean anything at all.”

Emily nodded. Then she smiled sheepishly. “I think it means I have a naughty streak though.”

Mack chuckled. “Well, we knew that,” he remarked. He had stopped moving his fingers, but they were still inside her. “You know, Emily ... it occurs to me that with Nathan being the way he is ... after the two of you get married, and have lots of sex ... I think it’s likely he’ll want you to have sex with other men.”

Emily bit her lip, but said nothing. The same thought had occurred to her.

“I think it’s just how he’s built,” Mack continued. “He wouldn’t be that way, though, if he wasn’t a hundred percent confident in your commitment to him. Otherwise he’d be afraid or losing you to someone else. But I get the sense that your commitment to each other is rock solid, and that allows him to relax and give you room to play with others.”

“That makes sense,” said Emily.

“So I guess what I’m trying to say is,” said Mack, “when that does happen ... if it does ... I’d be honoured if you would ... come to me first...”

Emily smiled. “It could be a while!” she said. “We haven’t even set a date yet. But ... I’ll certainly consider it. IF it turns out that you’re right and it’s what Nathan wants.”

“Good,” said Mack, his eyes twinkling. “Because I really do want to fuck you.”

Emily shivered. “Must you use that word, Mack...?”

He shrugged. “It’s just a word. And it’s a word I happen to like.” He grinned. “In fact, I’d like to hear you say it. Go on, give it a go.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” said Emily, shocked at the suggestion.

“Sure you could,” said Mack. “It’s easy. Fuck. It’s not a difficult word to say. I know you’re super religious, but there’s no prohibition on the word ‘fuck’ in the Bible, as far as I know. Where’s the harm in it? Who’s hurt by you saying ‘fuck’ in the presence of someone who’s not bothered by the word?”

Emily hesitated. It was an uncomfortable but fascinating idea: to break this taboo, to say a word she had regarded as the height of vulgarity ever since she first heard of it. Mack’s argument made sense – and was it really any worse than other things she had done? She pursed her lips, then took a deep breath. “F...fuck,” she said.

Mack clapped his hands. “Good girl!” he said. “Say it again.”

“Fuck,” she said. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” She giggled.

Mack laughed out loud, and climbed on top of her. “Now add the word ‘me’ on the end.” He positioned his cock at the opening of her vagina, and pressed it gently inward.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Mack...”

He kissed her. “Still trust me?”

“I thought we weren’t going to do this again,” she said.

“That was before I had this idea,” he replied, pushing his cock gently into her.

“Mack!” she squealed.

“Relax,” he said soothingly. “I’m now exactly as far in as I was when we had that little ... accident. No farther. And here I’ll stay. We already decided this wasn’t far enough to count as taking your virginity, so we’re still okay. But this time, I want to hear you ask me to fuck you.”

Emily looked up anxiously into his eyes. She saw lust there, and danger, and eagerness ... and resolve. “Fuck me,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” he inquired.

“Fuck me!”

“Hmm,” he said. “I don’t know ... I’m not hearing the desire in your voice just yet.”

She wrapped her legs around his back. “Fuck me, Mack,” she urged him. “I want it. I want your cock deep inside me. Push it in. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

“Maybe I will,” he murmured. “But I’m not yet convinced. I want to hear you beg for it.”

“Please, Mack!” Emily pleaded, terrified that this was building up to a sudden thrust and the end of her virginity ... but also thrilled out of her mind at the prospect. “Please, I’m begging you! Please fuck me! I need it! I need your cock all the way inside me! You can do it – just shove it in! I don’t care about my virginity – I just want you to fuck me, and cum inside me, and make me pregnant. Please, Mack! Please fuck me!”

Mack grinned. “Holy shit,” he said. He had not moved a millimetre. “Good girl, Emily. Now, hopefully, you can see that you can trust me absolutely.”

“I do, Mack!” she gasped, not sure whether to be relieved that he was so trustworthy, or upset that he was so immune to her begging. “Thank you.”

He pulled his cock out of her, and got up on his knees. “Now I’m very ready for that blowjob, please,” he said. “I feel like I’m ready to explode.”

She got up on her hands and knees, and took his cock into her mouth, sucking on the head while pumping the shaft. In less than a minute, his semen erupted into her mouth, and she eagerly swallowed it, sucking and sucking until she had extracted every last drop. Then she sat back on her heels, and wiped her mouth.

“Well that was fun!” said Mack, sitting down next to her. “I have to tell you something though, Emily.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“At the risk of ruining what we have together,” he said, “and that’s a huge risk, for me, because I’m incredibly happy with what we have together ... I have to tell you that ... I’m in love with you.”

Emily looked at him sharply, unsure if he was serious. But he certainly seemed to be. “Oh Mack...”

He shook his head. “Oh believe me, I’m not getting ideas above my station,” he said. “I know you don’t and won’t ever feel the same way about me – and why should you? And that’s fine – I can live with that. I’m genuinely happy you’re with Nathan – if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be able to do this. So I’m not asking anything of you. I just ... I just wanted you to know. You don’t have to do anything with the information.”

Nonetheless, Emily felt that some kind of reciprocation was necessary. “I ... really like you,” she said, putting her hand on his. “And I do love being naughty with you. You have such good ideas, you’re a really good photographer, and somehow you get me doing things I wouldn’t have imagined doing before. For your sake, I really hope Nathan encourages me to have sex with other men after we’re married, because honestly I’d love to have sex with you.”

Mack chuckled. “Okay, well let’s get dressed before we lose our minds and it actually happens. Can I get you a drink of anything? Or a snack?”

“Just some water please,” said Emily. “Thank you.”

Mack put on a t-shirt and his boxer shorts, and walked out of the room. But then he stuck his head back in. “Actually,” he said, “would you mind holding off on putting your clothes back on? I kinda love hanging out with you when you’re naked.”

Emily blushed, and nodded. “Sure,” she said.

She followed him into the living room, then waited there while he fetched her some water from the kitchen. He returned, and handed her a full glass. “Are you planning to just stick around here until Nathan gets back from work?” he asked.

“I guess so,” she replied. Then she gasped. “Oh no! Billy!”

“Who’s Billy?” Mack inquired.

“He’s a colleague,” she said. “He’s helping me with ... something. I’m supposed to meet him at five-thirty, maybe ... depending on Nathan’s plans. But if Nathan’s working until six...”

Mack raised an eyebrow. “What’s Billy helping you with?”

Emily bit her lip. “I got myself into terrible trouble at work,” she confessed. “I lost eighty thousand dollars of the company’s money ... and my boss thinks I wilfully participated in stealing it. He’s given me six months to replace the money ... or he’ll call the police and have me sent to prison!”

“What the ...” Mack was dumbfounded. “He can’t do that! Why does he think you’re involved?”

“Because I ... I took the bag with the money in it from his office and gave it to the guy who stole it,” said Emily, realising as she said this how incriminating it sounded. “But I didn’t know he was a thief! He was a colleague! When he asked me to bring it outside to him, I didn’t think to question why.”

“Oh man!” said Mack, aghast. “And all this has been weighing on your mind while we were ... fooling around?”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” said Emily ruefully.

Mack sat down heavily on the couch. “Well that ... that really sucks! And this Billy ... he can help you?”

Emily nodded. “Maybe. I don’t know. I hope so. Anyway I’d better text him.” She pulled her phone out of her bag, and sent Billy a text: ‘Hi Billy! 5:30 not looking good, I’m sorry. Really want to meet with you though! Nathan finishes work at six so I’ll see what his evening plans are, and let you know. Would that be ok?’

His response was swift: ‘Totally ok. Just let me know what you decide. I’m free all evening so whatever time is fine.’

‘Ok – talk to you soon then!’ She put her phone back in her bag. “I just remembered I was thinking of going to see Nathan at his new workplace,” she said. “I guess I should get dressed, and go do that.”

“Hmm,” said Mack. “Do you have any clothes with you other than your work outfit?”

“Um, no,” said Emily. “Why? Do you think it’ll be a problem? I know it’s very skimpy...”

“It’s very possible that Nathan’s new boss and colleagues will love your look,” said Mack. “It’s also possible that they’re prudish assholes who hate fun. In which case, they might be offended by your outfit, and as a consequence they might view Nathan less favourably. Why not wait until Nathan gets home, and sound him out on the subject? See if he thinks it would be a good idea for you to visit him at work. If he does, great! You can go see him there tomorrow.”

“I suppose caution might be a good idea,” Emily conceded.

Mack grinned. “So, wanna play video games with me instead?”

Emily laughed. “Sure.”

Mack put in a game Emily had not seen before, called Triton Towers, which Mack referred to as a ‘cooperative tower defence’ game. She and Mack had to work together to save a dome-shaped base on Neptune’s moon Triton from hordes of invading spiky glass-like creatures. It was a little stressful, but fun.

They were still playing this when the door opened, and Clive walked in. Emily squealed, and hurriedly covered her breasts and pussy.

“Whoa!” said Clive, his eyes wide. “What’s going on here?”

Mack chuckled. “What does it look like? We’re playing a video game.”

“But why are you naked, Emily?” Clive demanded.

“Um,” said Emily awkwardly, “well ... Mack was taking photos of me ... for Nathan. Nathan doesn’t mind!”

“Well I mind,” said Clive. “Sasha will be here shortly and I don’t want her to find you naked with me and Mack. Please could you put some clothes on.”

“Of course,” Emily muttered, as she got up from the couch. “Sorry Clive.” She hurried through to Mack’s room.

“Jeez, Mack,” said Clive. “Your lucky day, huh?”

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, bro,” said Mack quickly, “but I’m not trying to steal Emily away from Nathan or anything. I’m not that stupid, or delusional. But heck, if she wants to pose for sexy photos for Nathan, who am I to argue?”

“This was her idea, was it?” Clive inquired sceptically.

“Actually it was Nathan’s,” said Mack. “But she was perfectly willing.”

Clive sighed. “I don’t know what’s happened to that girl,” he said. “When I think what she looked like just last week, when we first met her...”

“She’s breaking out of her shell, no doubt,” said Mack.

“I just hope she settles down and reigns it in, before she gets herself into any trouble,” said Clive.

Emily emerged, dressed once again in her work outfit. Clive stared. “Well that’s scarcely any better!” he said. “What’s gotten into you, Emily?”

“Seriously, bro?” said Mack. “You’re wardrobe-shaming now? What would Sasha say about that?”

“Yeah, but Emily isn’t Sasha!” said Clive.

“Oh, so it’s a double standard thing is it?” said Mack. “Sasha’s allowed to wear revealing clothes, but Emily isn’t?”

Clive glared at him. “Not helping, Mack! I’m not trying to be mean here; I just don’t want anything bad to happen!”

“Because if something bad happens, it’ll be the fault of her clothing?” Mack asked.

“Guys, please don’t argue,” said Emily, her arms folded protectively over her breasts. “I know you’re just trying to help, Clive, but I have to wear this uniform for work, so there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

“What kind of job requires a uniform like that?” asked Clive in disbelief.

“I’m ... I’m kind of a secretary,” said Emily. “But I’m not very well qualified, so...”

She was interrupted by the opening of the front door. Sasha walked in, then stopped in surprise as she saw and instantly processed the scene before her. “Hi guys. What’s going on?”

“Nothing really,” said Clive.

“Clive was just giving Emily a hard time about her outfit,” said Mack.

Clive glared at him. “Really?”

Mack shrugged, unapologetically.

Sasha looked like Emily up and down. “Looks super hot to me,” she said. “Good for you, Emily.”

“Thanks Sasha,” said Emily gratefully.

“You were saying, Clive?” said Mack.

Clive threw up his hands. “Nothing, apparently. I can see I’m outnumbered.”

“I do value your opinion, Clive,” said Emily, trying to be diplomatic. Then she heard a buzzing, which puzzled her for a moment until she realised what it was. “Oh, that’s my phone – excuse me.” She reached into her bag and pulled her phone out. “Nathan! Hi!”

“Hi Babe!” he said. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll be done here in about half an hour. Shall I meet you at the Davises’? Mary said I have a standing invitation to come to dinner there, so...”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Sure! I’m actually at your place at the moment, but I can go home ... unless you’d like me to stop by your store on the way? It’d be cool to see where you work...”

“I’d love that, but it’s kinda in the wrong direction,” said Nathan. “Also, my boss isn’t too happy with me right now and I’m not sure how she’ll react to you showing up here. Probably best if we just meet at the Davises’.”

“Okay!” said Emily, making a mental note to ask him what he had done to make his new boss unhappy. “See you soon.”

“Bye Baby,” he said.

She hung up. “Well I guess I’m meeting Nathan at home,” she said. “So I’ll just ... be off then.”

“Want me to walk you home?” Mack asked cheerfully. “It would be my pleasure.”

Emily hesitated, then nodded. She was a little nervous about the possibility of Mack meeting Paul, and comparing notes with him, but then she decided this was not very likely. “Thank you,” she said.

Once Mack had finished getting dressed, he accompanied her to the elevator, and they rode down together to the lobby. As they walked out of the building and on to the street, Emily almost immediately began to hear comments about her clothing, and she protectively folded her arms.

“Stop that,” said Mack. “You look like you think you deserve criticism. If you’re going to wear a skimpy outfit in public, own it. Don’t let these idiots convince you you’re doing something wrong.”

Emily chuckled uncomfortably. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “But this blouse! It’s so ... open. I’m just trying to make it look less revealing than it is.”

“Well don’t,” said Mack bluntly. “It covers your boobs, so nobody has any right to give you a hard time about it. You look amazing. If women criticise you it’s likely because they’re jealous of your awesome body...”

“Envious,” Emily muttered.

“Huh?”

“I think you meant ‘envious’,” she explained. “Jealous means, um, protective, like, disinclined to share or give up something.”

Mack shrugged. “That’s not how most people use the word.”

“Yes,” Emily admitted, “most people get it wrong.”

“Then it’s not wrong,” said Mack. “Words are defined according to how people use them, not how a select few think they ought to be used.”

Emily turned to stare at him. “Oh, I don’t think I can agree with that,” she said. “If that were the case, then why bother having dictionaries?”

“To explain how words are used,” said Mack. “If I hear someone using a word and want to know what they mean by it, and I look it up in a dictionary, I’m going to want it to tell me how the word is generally used. Right?”

“Ugh, but wouldn’t you rather understand how it’s supposed to be used?” asked Emily, aghast. “So that you don’t accidentally use it wrongly?”

Mack shrugged. “If I’m using it the way most people use it, then I’m not using it ‘wrongly’. The meanings of words change over time; that’s just a fact. There’s no right or wrong about it. The word ‘gay’ used to mean ‘happy’. Now it means homosexual. If you used it to mean ‘happy’ these days you’d get some funny looks.”

Emily pursed her lips. She felt a little offended. What was the point in learning the correct meanings of words if they were just going to change as a result of the ignorance of the general public?

Mack seemed to guess her thoughts. “It’s not a pretty reality,” he admitted. “It’s just how language works. It changes. It morphs. You can’t fight it, unfortunately.”

“I’ve always prided myself on my command of English – spelling, punctuation, grammar and so on,” she said. “And my boss seems to value it!”

“I’m sure he does,” said Mack. “And with good reason. You know the original meaning of ‘jealous’, which most people probably don’t. And you know that most people use it differently. So you’ve got all the knowledge; it’s up to you how you use it. But I’d be careful of correcting people on things that are generally accepted. There’s a chance it’ll backfire on you.”

Emily nodded reluctantly. “It’s something to think about, I guess.”

Mack chuckled. “I’m sure you could teach me way more about English than I could teach you. This is just something I’ve figured out through conversations on Twitter. I’m certainly no expert.”

“I’ve heard of Twitter,” said Emily. “Is that something I can get on my phone?”

“Sure!” said Mack. Then he smirked. “You might want to think twice about signing up though. It’ll eat up your life if you give it a chance.”

“What do you mean?” asked Emily, wide-eyed.

“Just that it’s kinda addictive,” said Mack. “I used to spend hours and hours on it. It wasn’t healthy. I’ve cut back a lot, but I still spend too much time on it probably. It’s a great thing, don’t get me wrong – it’ll expose you to all kinds of ideas you never considered before ... not to mention videos of puppies doing cute things – but you do have to be careful to limit your time on there.”

Emily nodded. “I do like the sound of the puppy videos...”

Mack laughed. “I’ll send you some,” he said.

They arrived at the Davises’ house, and Emily said, “Well, goodbye Mack. This afternoon was ... amazing. Scary, but I really loved it.”

He grinned. “Let me hear you say it one more time.”

Emily blushed, and glanced around nervously. Then, looking straight into Mack’s eyes, she said in a low voice, “I want you to fuck me, Mack.” Just saying the words made her vagina tingle and moisten.

He smiled happily. “One day!” he said. “One day I will. Bye Emily.”

Emily walked up to the front door, and entered the house. Paul and Mary were in the kitchen. “Hi Mary! Hi Paul!” she said.

“Welcome home!” said Mary. “How was work?”

Emily’s stomach knotted. “It was pretty good,” she said. “Still getting used to things.”

Mary nodded. “Each day will be a little easier than the previous one, I’m sure. Will Nathan be coming to dinner?”

“Yes, if that’s okay,” said Emily. “He’s working until six...”

Mary gasped. “He got a job?”

“Yes!” said Emily, smiling. “It all happened very quickly. He started today. He’s working in a local hardware store.”

“Well, that’s wonderful news!” said Mary. “So now you both have jobs!”

“Yes,” said Emily, trying to sound more enthusiastic than she felt. “Things are finally coming together.”

“Want to come upstairs with me, Emily?” asked Paul. “We can start another Marvel movie...”

“I should really help your mom with dinner...” said Emily.

“Oh, I’m fine – everything’s under control,” said Mary brusquely. “Thank you for the offer, Emily, but you go on upstairs.”

“Well, okay then,” said Emily. “Thank you.”

Paul followed her upstairs, and she went into her room to get undressed. Clad only in a thong, she crossed the landing to Paul’s room, and he smiled at her breasts. “Awesome,” he said. “Next movie is The Incredible Hulk ... unless you’d rather just make out...?”

Emily chuckled. “Plenty of time for time for that later,” she said. “Let’s just start the movie.”

They began watching the film, but after about half an hour Paul hit the pause button. “Can we maybe snuggle while we watch?” he asked.

“I somehow doubt you’ll be able to concentrate on the movie if we do that,” remarked Emily, amused.

“Maybe,” Paul conceded, “but then again, I’ve seen it already. Like, three times.”

“I suppose we can snuggle,” said Emily, with a nonchalant shrug. “But we’ll have to stop once Nathan gets here.”

Paul chuckled. “Why?” he asked. “He likes the idea of us kissing, right? Don’t you think it’ll turn him on to see us snuggling? Or making out?”

Emily shivered. “I don’t know,” she said. “I guess it might. But what if it doesn’t?”

“Then he can tell us,” said Paul. “But heck, he hasn’t been very clear about what we can and can’t do, has he? He only has himself to blame if, in an attempt to please him, you do something he doesn’t like because he hasn’t communicated his ... desires ... well enough.”

“Maybe,” said Emily uncertainly.

“Does he know I’ve been fingering you?” asked Paul.

“Not exactly,” said Emily sheepishly. “I’ve been meaning to tell him...”

“I’m sure it must be hard to bring up the subject with him,” said Paul sympathetically.

“It is,” Emily agreed.

“Well,” said Paul, “maybe it’s best that he doesn’t know. It can be our little secret.”

This notion made Emily feel uneasy. “Well yeah, I’ve kinda been keeping it a secret from him ... but I really shouldn’t be!”

Paul grinned. “But secrets are fun, aren’t they?”

This was true, but that did not help. “Ugh!” she said in exasperation. “I have to come clean with him, Paul. I really do. And it might as well be this evening, when he arrives.”

“But that could be in two minutes!” said Paul in dismay. “And what if he says he doesn’t want me touching you again?”

“Then,” said Emily reluctantly, “we’ll have to stop the goodnight kisses and fondlings and so on.”

“But that would be terrible!” said Paul.

“Paul, you knew it couldn’t last forever,” said Emily gently. “At some point I was always going to move out and start my life with Nathan.”

“At some point, yes!” said Paul. “But not tonight! I ... I feel like I might be about to lose you...”

He looked so forlorn that Emily’s heart went out to him. “He’s not here yet,” she said. “We can have a kiss and a bit of naughtiness now, if you like, before he gets here.”

“Yes please!” said Paul. “It might be our last time; let’s make the most of it.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

“Could you take off your thong please?” he asked her.

Emily nodded, and stood up just long enough to pull her thong down to her ankles. Kicking it off, she lay back on the bed. “We’ll have to keep an ear out for Nathan,” she cautioned Paul.

Paul leaned over her, and smiled. “Or we could just let him catch us,” he suggested. “If you’re going to come clean with him anyway, you might as well let him see it for himself. Odds are, I’m guessing, that he’ll love it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” said Emily nervously. “Hearing about it is one thing; seeing it is another.”

“Of course,” Paul agreed. “Seeing it is better.” And he bent down and kissed her on the lips, while placing a hand on her right breast and gently squeezing it.

“But what if he freaks out?” Emily said, pressing her head down into the pillow to put some clearance between his lips and hers.

“Then apologise,” said Paul. “Say you made an error of judgment. Assure him you’re his, and it’ll never happen again. Say you’ll stop the kisses, and the gropings, and the sexy photos, and everything.”

“Well I don’t know if he’ll want that...” said Emily doubtfully.

“Precisely,” said Paul with a grin. “And that’ll work in our favour. But I strongly suspect he’ll be excited to see us making out. He may even want to take photos.”

Emily chuckled. “You’re very optimistic.”

He kissed her again, and slid his hand down to her pussy. As he began to softly massage her vulva, she uttered a little moan, and parted her legs. Paul gently sank his middle finger inside her, and started moving it in and out with slow, gradually deepening strokes. Whether intentionally or not, he was rubbing her g-spot, and she gasped with pleasure. Then she kissed him again, more passionately this time, tonguing his mouth while breathing heavily through her nose. After a few minutes of this, she was approaching her climax.

But then they both heard voices outside the room, on the landing. Paul, startled, broke off the kiss to listen. “It’s Mom and Nathan,” he whispered.

“Let me up!” said Emily urgently. She could hear Nathan’s voice; it sounded like he was right outside the door.

“Wait!” said Paul. “I think we should let him see us. Just a second.” Pulling his finger out of her, he clambered over her and lay down on her other side. “Spread your legs really wide,” he said. Then he put the index and middle fingers of his right hand in his mouth, moistening them with his saliva.

“Paul, I don’t think this is a good idea!” said Emily anxiously.

He pushed her knees apart. “Trust me, this’ll work,” he whispered. He sank his fingers inside her, and began thrusting them in and out. “You want him to know; well, this will let him know. No more secrets. And I really think he’ll love what he sees. His mind is just wired that way. You’ll see. Now kiss me, and spread those legs wide!”

“Oh gosh!” Emily gasped, but she let him kiss her. The idea of Nathan walking in and finding them like this was utterly wild ... exciting, but very scary – like so much of what she had been doing lately. And Paul was right; it would mean an end to the secrecy, which would be a good thing.

There was a knock at the door. Paul lifted his face away from Emily’s, and grinned. “Come on,” he said.

Emily heard the door open, and she stiffened in panic. What was going to happen now?

“Good heavens!” said Mary in astonishment.

Paul looked up in shock, whipping his fingers out of Emily’s vagina, as Emily squealed and closed her legs. “Mom!”

Mary glanced back over her shoulder, then she hurried in and closed the door. “Whyever did you say ‘come in’?” she exclaimed, looking both shocked and confused. “Do you realise Nathan’s here?”

“I’m so sorry, Mary!” Emily wailed, utterly mortified. She hugged her knees, feeling very naked and very embarrassed.

“Hush, I’m not upset about what you were doing,” said Mary. “But what if Nathan had come in?”

“We were expecting him to,” Paul admitted. “We had a hunch he would get a kick out of seeing it.”

“But he’s her fiancé!” said Mary, astonished.

“Yeah, but we already know he likes the idea of me kissing and groping Emily,” said Paul.

“He doesn’t see Paul as a threat, you see,” Emily explained apologetically.

Mary pursed her lips. “So you’re playing around with my son just to give Nathan a thrill?”

“No!” said Emily hastily. “Well, not just. I mean ... I like doing it...”

Now Mary folded her arms. “How far has this gone?” she asked.

Emily and Paul glanced at each other. “Um,” said Emily.

“She’s sucked my ... you know...” Paul offered.

Mary smirked a little. “And is that something Nathan’s sanctioned?”

Emily stared uncomfortably at her toes. “Not exactly...” she admitted.

“And the ... the fingering?”

“Not in so many words,” said Emily wretchedly.

“I see,” said Mary. “Well I think it’s very foolish of you both to try to get caught by Nathan doing something he hasn’t agreed to. You don’t know how he’ll react. He could call off the engagement, or insist Emily move out of this house, or ... goodness, for all I know he could get violent. Would it not be better to break it to him gently, in conversation, so that you can gauge his reaction as you talk?”

“Possibly,” Emily conceded.

“Now look. Nathan went to the bathroom, but he’ll be out any moment. In fact there’s the flush. Now please don’t do anything silly. I suggest you don’t say anything to Nathan yet; take some time to figure out your strategy. Let’s have a nice dinner together first, shall we?”

“Okay,” said Paul, and Emily nodded.

There was another knock on the door, and Mary opened it. “Hello Nathan,” she said. “Come on in; we were just chatting.”

Nathan entered, grinning as he saw Emily sitting on the bed. “Hi Babe!” he said, spreading his arms wide.

Emily put on a smile and got up to give him a hug, though she kept one hand over her pussy. But Nathan gasped, staring down at her hand. “Oh!” he said in delight. “You’re going naked in this house now? Wow!” He turned to Mary. “My goodness, you and Jacob are just the coolest!”

Mary chuckled. “Well hitherto she’s been wearing panties at least, but ... oh, why not? I suppose I don’t mind if you want to stay fully naked, Emily. And I’m sure Jacob won’t either. Perhaps just ... sit on your napkin at the dinner table.”

“Oh goodness!” said Emily, more mortified than ever.

“Great idea!” said Paul happily.

“I agree,” said Nathan, grinning. “Shall we go and eat, then?”

As embarrassed as she was to accompany Mary, Nathan and Paul downstairs without a single stitch of clothing on, Emily was at least relieved that the issue of having to confess her erotic adventures to Nathan had been deferred for a while.

Jacob was astonished to see that Emily was completely naked. “I told her it would be all right,” Mary said to him. “But if you’re not comfortable, I’m sure she’ll be happy to go and put her thong back on.”

“No no, it’s fine with me,” said Jacob, once he had recovered enough to wrest his eyes up to Emily’s face. He smiled. “Well at least your outfit can’t get any skimpier than this!”

“I guess not,” said Emily ruefully, her hands clasped together over her pussy.

In the dining room, she followed Mary’s suggestion of laying down her napkin on her chair before sitting down. This meant that she did not have a napkin to put on top of her lap, of course, but she figured she did not really need one. She pulled her chair up close to the table, and waited for everyone else to take their places.

“Can I sit next to Emily?” asked Paul suddenly.

“I think Nathan would prefer to, dear,” said Mary.

“I don’t mind,” said Nathan, walking around to the opposite side of the table. “If I sit across from Emily, I get to look at her. And enjoy the sight of her lovely chest!”

Jacob laughed. “Yes, it’s nice to sit across from the one you love ... isn’t it, darling?”

“It is indeed,” agreed Mary. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you as nice a view as Nathan’s getting, though!”

“You could if you wanted,” said Jacob, winking at her. “I wouldn’t object.”

Mary’s jaw dropped. “I think everyone else might!” she said. “Goodness, Jacob, what a suggestion!”

Jacob chuckled. “Ah well, it was worth a try.”

Paul, who had for a moment been looking rather horrified, now looked relieved as he sat down on Emily’s right.

“I wouldn’t object!” said Nathan, grinning mischievously. “Feel free, Mrs Davis.”

Jacob laughed, but Mary just turned red. “Unfortunately I don’t have Emily’s figure,” she said, “and the years have not been very kind to me. So I’d prefer to remain fully clothed, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Mrs Davis,” said Nathan hastily. “I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure you didn’t,” said Mary, and there was a slightly awkward silence while she served up the enchiladas she had made.

“Mmm, Mexican food!” said Nathan, in an attempt to make amends. “Looks delicious!”

“Wine, Nathan?” Jacob offered. “This is good stuff; it’s one of our favourite reds.”

“Yes please!” said Nathan.

Jacob poured him a glass, then he turned to Emily. “How about you, Emily?”

“Um ... I’m under twenty-one!” said Emily.

Jacob chuckled. “Yes, but this is a private home,” he said. “It’s not illegal for you to have wine with dinner. Have you never had wine before, outside of communion? It’s not against Robertine culture, even in the strict environment of Oakwood!”

Emily shook her head. “My parents don’t drink,” she said. “Nathan’s do, but they never offered me any.”

“Go on, give it a try,” Nathan encouraged her.

“All right – yes please,” said Emily. She knew what wine tasted like, or course, having sipped it from the chalice at communion, but she was curious to discover what it would be like to have an entire glass of the stuff. Would it make her tipsy?

“Can I have some wine too?” asked Paul. “Please?”

“No,” said his mother firmly.

As they ate, Emily was just leaning over her plate when she felt Paul’s hand on her thigh. With a fork in her right hand, she was not best positioned to discourage him, and at first she did not see any harm in it ... but as he worked his way up toward her pussy, she thought to herself, ‘Is he really planning to feel me up in front of his parents and my fiancé?’ The naughtiness, the boldness of it was mind-blowing.

Soon he was gently rubbing her pussy, with his middle finger sandwiched between her labia. Her cheeks reddened, but she tried to pretend nothing was untoward as she continued eating her food. Fortunately Jacob was chatting with Nathan, and Mary was listening to them both, so all three seemed completely oblivious of Paul’s surreptitious groping. Since he was using his left hand to rub her, he himself was continuing to eat with his right hand, as if nothing else were going on at all.

Nathan and Jacob were indeed blissfully unaware of what Paul was doing ... but Mary was not fooled. Sitting at the end of the table, to Emily’s left, she could see that Paul’s arm was angled oddly, and moreover was moving suspiciously rhythmically. She suppressed a smirk. “So, Nathan,” she said. “Tell us about this new job of yours.”

“Well today I was mostly just learning about the inventory,” said Nathan. “My boss, Robyn, apparently wants me to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of every item we carry, and where it’s located in the store.”

“Sound strategy,” said Jacob. “That’ll surely make you more helpful to your customers.”

“Yeah but there’s so much to learn!” said Nathan plaintively. “I’m not sure how I’m ever going to remember it all. I feel like she’s asking the impossible.”

“It’ll take a while ... and your boss likely knows that,” said Jacob. “Just do your best, and I’m sure you’ll impress her.”

Emily’s heaving breasts were betraying how fast and heavily she was breathing. Her flushed cheeks were not helping, either. “You okay, Babe?” Nathan asked.

“Yes!” said Emily. “Sorry – just feeling a little light-headed. Perhaps it’s the wine.”

“Lightweight,” Nathan teased her. “Perhaps it’s a good thing tonight’s band practice had to be cancelled.”

“Oh?” said Emily, now trying very hard to ignore Paul’s finger on her clitoris. “You didn’t tell me we had a practice tonight.”

“Sorry,” he said. “But like I said, it’s off. We’ll have it tomorrow night instead. Brian’s bringing in a guy who makes really slick YouTube videos; he’s going to make a video for one of our songs!”

“Oh!” said Emily.

“That sounds exciting!” said Mary.

“It is,” Nathan agreed.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to get in a studio to record the song?” Jacob inquired.

“Nope!” said Nathan cheerfully. “Brian reckons the acoustics in our old print room place are good enough for the recording to be done there. We just need to nail a performance. We’re gonna do that first, and then shoot supplementary video afterwards.”

“Sounds like it’s all planned out!” said Mary. “I can’t wait to see the result.”

“If you don’t have band practice,” said Jacob, “what are your plans for this evening?”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t really have any,” he replied.

“Well, feel free to stick around here if you like,” said Jacob. “We can put a movie on...”

“Actually,” said Emily, “I kind of have a commitment this evening...”

“Oh?” said Mary curiously.

“I ... I’m afraid I got into a bit of trouble at work today,” said Emily. “One of my colleagues is going to try to help me out. He works in the IT department. His name’s Billy.”

“What kind of trouble?” asked Jacob, concerned.

“Well...” said Emily wretchedly, “I’m a little embarrassed to say...”

“Something to do with your outfit?” Mary guessed.

“No, nothing like that,” said Emily. “Just a misunderstanding ... which led my boss to think I might be ... a thief.”

Mary gasped. “How could anyone think that of you?”

“He didn’t fire you though?” asked Jacob.

Emily shook her head. “No, but I ... I have to try to make it right, somehow. I’m hoping Billy can help with that.”

Paul had stopped rubbing her, to her relief; he was now staring at her in surprise. “When are you meeting him?” he asked.

“I have to text him,” she said. “I think he’s planning to pick me up.”

“Huh,” said Nathan, looking disappointed. “Well, I guess we won’t be spending the evening together then.”

“You’re still welcome to stay awhile though,” said Mary.

“Nah, I think I’ll just go home and hang out with the guys,” said Nathan. “Play some Call of Duty with Clive and Sasha and Mack.”

“Okay,” said Jacob, nodding. “Guess it’ll just be the three of us then, huh Paul?” He grinned. “How’s your search for a summer job going?”

“Uh, I haven’t found anything yet,” said Paul awkwardly.

“Well keep looking,” said his father. “The more you earn now, the less you’ll have to take out in student loans later.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Hmm, maybe I should give Buford a call...” Jacob mused.

Mary smiled as she looked around the table. “Okay, who’s ready for dessert?”

After dinner, Nathan kissed Emily goodbye, and then left the house to return to his apartment. Emily then washed the dishes in the kitchen, while Jacob dried. Paul had gone up to his room, and Mary, at Jacob’s insistence, was putting her feet up in the living room. Emily was feeling quite embarrassed to be completely naked in Jacob’s presence, but she managed to relax a little as he engaged her in casual conversation.

At one point she had to turn around to collect more dishes from the little island in the middle of the room, and as she picked them up with both hands, she glanced at Jacob and saw that he was looking at her naked pussy. But then he looked back at the plate he was drying, continuously talking without reacting to the view, and for the rest of the conversation he did not comment on her nudity at all. Emily was beginning to feel like she could perhaps get used to even this.

Having finished the dishes, she texted Billy: ‘I’m free for the rest of the evening; do you still want to meet up?’

His response came quickly: ‘Sure! Want me to pick you up?’

She replied in the affirmative, and gave him her address.

‘Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes,’ he texted back.

Emily went into the living room, and as Mary and Jacob looked up, she self-consciously clasped her hands in front of her pussy. “Billy’s picking me up in ten minutes,” she said. “I’m just going to go upstairs to put something on.” This was a statement, but it almost felt like she was asking permission ... which suddenly struck her as strange. Why shouldn’t she put clothes on?

“I’ll come with you,” said Mary, getting to her feet. “I’d like to have a little chat with you, if I may.”

“Of course,” said Emily.

Mary followed her up the stairs, and into her bedroom. Having closed the door behind her, Mary took a deep breath, then let it out. “So,” she said. “You and Paul.”

Emily gulped. “I’m sorry...” she began, but Mary cut her off immediately.

“No need to apologise,” she said. “I’m thrilled that the two of you have become so intimate. Jacob and I already suspected that there was more to your relationship than goodnight kisses, but I must admit I wasn’t expecting it to have gone this far. But I’m delighted! I’m very happy for Paul – I never would have imagined him having such experiences with such a beautiful girl as you. He must be over the moon! And, I’m guessing, he’s probably head over heels in love with you by now.”

Emily bit her lip, and nodded. “I’m afraid so,” she admitted. “But he does understand that I’m not in love with him, and that I belong to Nathan.”

Mary snorted. “You don’t ‘belong’ to anybody,” she said. “Even after you and Nathan get married, you’ll belong only to yourself. But you’re engaged to Nathan, certainly, and it sounds like Paul understands that you’re not going to leave Nathan for him, so whatever you do with Paul that Nathan’s comfortable with, is fine with me.”

“But that’s just it,” Emily groaned. “It’s been escalating, little by little, and I really don’t know whether Nathan’s going to be okay with what we’re doing now! The problem is, I really haven’t spent a lot of time alone with Nathan, the past few days. There just hasn’t been the opportunity to talk about it.”

“Couldn’t you have discussed it by text?” Mary asked.

“I guess so,” Emily conceded, “although it seems like a conversation that would be better in person.”

“Then I suggest you make some time to have that conversation,” said Mary. “Putting it off won’t make it any easier.”

Emily sighed, and nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “You’re right, of course.”

“Okay then,” said Mary. “Now, let me show you what I did today.” She opened up Emily’s closet and pulled out a dress on its hanger. Emily barely recognised it as one of her Oakwood dresses; it had been completely transformed.

“Oh my goodness!” she gasped.

“I went pretty short with this one,” said Mary, “and then I thought it looked a little odd with long sleeves, so I ... well, removed them. I thought about removing the collar, too, since it looks incongruously conservative, but then I was worried that might be a step too far. I didn’t want to completely erase the character of the original dress....”

“It looks great!” said Emily, admiring their neat stitching. “Thank you so much, Mary!”

“Try it on!” Mary encouraged her. “Let’s see how it looks.”

Emily took it off the hanger and put on the dress. As she checked herself out in the mirror, she turned this way and that, noting that it was quite loose around her hips. Lengthwise, it was pretty much as she had requested: ‘super short’. Not as short as her work skirt, certainly, and not even as short as her denim skirt, though it was likely not a lot longer than the latter.

“Oh dear, it’s very short, isn’t it?” fretted Mary. “I may have underestimated your height...”

“It’s perfect,” Emily assured her. “Though I must admit it’s a little strange seeing myself in an Oakwood dress without a bottom half! I’m not sure when or where I’ll wear this, but I do like it. You did a great job – thank you.”

“Good, good,” said Mary, though she still looked slightly worried. “How about you try the other one? I’m afraid ... it may be a little shorter...”

“Oh!” said Emily. “Well, let’s see...”

She took off the first dress, put on the second, and stared at herself in the mirror. “Oh my...”

It was, indeed, shorter. In fact it was shorter than her work skirt. “Oh dear!” said Mary. “I’m very sorry! I got a little carried away!”

“Not to worry!” said Emily lightly, though she was not at all sure that she would ever be able to wear this dress again. “Um ... is my bottom showing?” She turned away from Mary.

“Oh goodness!” Mary groaned. “Yes, I’m afraid so ... just a little bit. I’m so sorry!”

Emily chuckled ruefully. “Never mind,” she said. “Maybe I’ll wear it for Nathan sometime, as a treat.” She sighed as she turned back to the mirror. “Pity though – I do like what you’ve done with it. Particularly the neckline.”

“Yes, well, this one didn’t have a collar, and the neckline looked uncomfortably high, so I thought I’d cut it down a bit,” said Mary. “Give that lovely chest of yours some air!” She smiled, then shrugged. “Pity I messed up on the bottom end.”

Emily took off the dress, then put on her thong. “Thank you for doing all that work, Mary,” she said. “I love both dresses. I’ll just have to save the second one for Nathan ... or for wearing indoors around people I’m comfortable with seeing my bottom ... like you and Jacob and Paul.”

“Of course,” said Mary.

“Now I just need to decide what to wear to go to Billy’s house...” Emily began looking through her options, which by now were quite numerous and varied. She pulled out her long flowery skirt, and regarded it with a slight pout. “I love this one ... but now it just seems so ... concealing! Is it weird that I’m not happy with the thought of covering myself up so much, now?”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Mary. “Obviously you enjoy exposing your skin, and since you’ve spent almost your whole life being covered from neck to ankle, it must feel very freeing to wear revealing clothes. And, conversely, I’m guessing it might feel like stepping back into a cage to put modest clothing on.”

“That’s exactly it!” said Emily in relief. “Thank you – I’m glad you understand.”

“I can always shorten that skirt for you, if you like,” Mary suggested. “And any others you feel are now too long.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that...”

“Nonsense!” said Mary cheerfully. “It would be my pleasure. I had fun with the two dresses, and I’d enjoy honing my skills on some others. Just let me know which ones you would like me to shorten.”

“Well, thank you!” said Emily. “I don’t know ... I guess if you’d like to shorten the longer ones...”

“Shall I just use my judgment, then?” Mary inquired. “I promise I won’t make the same mistake as with that second one I did today.”

“Um,” said Emily, feeling slightly nervous. “Sure. Just make sure I still have a range of different lengths to wear.”

Mary smiled. “So you don’t want them all ‘super short’ then?”

Emily hesitated. She bit her lip, and blushed. What did she really want? The idea of having nothing to wear but super short skirts and dresses was alarming ... yet undeniably exciting.

Mary seemed to be reading her mind. “I rather think,” she said gently, “that you’ve moved past wearing modest hemlines. I suspect you want everything super short.”

Emily fidgeted uncomfortably. “Just use your judgment,” she said quietly. Then it would be Mary’s fault if she had nothing to wear but indecently short hemlines. She herself would be blameless.

“Okay then!” said Mary happily. “Perhaps I’ll make a start this evening, then, while I’m watching television with Jacob. Perhaps for your visit with Billy you could wear something you don’t want me to shorten.” She flipped through Emily’s hangers. “What about this one? I don’t think I’ve seen you in this one before.”

Emily stared at the tiny blue flared skirt that Mary was suggesting, and she gulped. “That one’s ... very short...”

“As short as your work skirt?” Mary inquired with a smirk. “Which Billy’s already seen you in?”

“I guess that’s true,” Emily conceded. “Okay, I’ll wear that one.” She put it on, then looked through her tops. “Hmm, what goes with that blue...?” She pulled out her new beige top, then put it back again as she recalled that it was slightly see-through.

“What was wrong with that one?” Mary inquired. “It looks nice – another item I haven’t seen you wear yet!”

“It’s a little sheer,” said Emily apologetically. “Along with the shortness of this skirt, it might be a little much. I don’t want him getting the wrong idea!”

“Hmm,” said Mary. “Is this Billy the kind of guy who might not take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“Oh no!” said Emily, a little shocked. “He’s a very nice young man. I don’t believe for one minute he’d try to force himself on me. But all the same, I don’t want him to feel like I’m leading him on, by wearing too skimpy an outfit.”

“That presupposes you’re dressing for him, rather than for yourself,” said Mary. “And you should get out of that mindset. It doesn’t matter if you go to Billy’s house wearing a long dress, a short skirt, a bikini, or nothing at all ... you don’t owe him anything and you’re not promising him anything. If he misbehaves, shame on him, and you shouldn’t feel any guilt or regret about putting him in his place if he tries anything.”

Emily nodded, though the thought of putting any man in his place made her feel uneasy. She hated any kind of conflict, but especially conflict with a man. Still, she was fairly sure that Billy would respect even a polite and non-assertive rebuff. “I guess it’ll probably be okay,” she said dubiously, and she put on the top.

“Oh, it is a little sheer, isn’t it!” said Mary, eyeing Emily’s visible nipples appraisingly. “Not to mention short – I didn’t realise it was a crop top.”

“Yes,” said Emily. “And with my fat belly, I’m not sure that...”

Mary snorted. “Don’t you dare say you have a fat belly!” she retorted. “You want to see mine?”

“I’m sorry,” said Emily, flustered, “I didn’t mean...”

“You have a lovely belly,” said Mary. “There’s no reason on Earth why you shouldn’t wear a crop top. I think it looks very nice on you.”

“But ... it’s so see-through...” said Emily plaintively, though deep down she was rather enjoying this conversation, and hoping Mary would talk her into wearing this outfit.

“It’s not that see-through,” Mary assured her. “I think you’d get away with wearing it even in public. Certainly you’ll get away with it in a friend’s house – if that friend is a nice guy, as you seem to think he is.”

Emily nodded. “All right then. Oh! That’s probably him!”

“I’ll answer it,” said Mary, heading for the door, “while you get your shoes on.”

Emily donned her sneakers, then she grabbed her bag, left her bedroom, and trotted down the stairs. Waiting for her by the front door was Billy, whose eyes lit up in astonishment and delight as they bounced up and down from her bare thighs to her faintly visible breasts. “Uh, hi!” he said. “You look ... beautiful!”

Mary chuckled. “Just bring her home safe and sound, young man,” she said. “And good luck with fixing Emily’s work problem.”

Billy nodded, looking a little uneasy.

“I didn’t go into details,” Emily said quickly. “Come on – let’s go. Bye Mary! See you later.”

“See you later dear,” said Mary. “You’ve got your phone?”

Emily patted her bag, nodding. Then she left the house with Billy, and walked to his car – a silver Nissan with peeling paint and a dent in the passenger side. Billy gallantly opened the door for her, and held it open as she got in. As she sat down, she glanced up to see that he was looking between her thighs with wide eyes, and realised she had just flashed her thong at him. Looking guilty, he hastily closed the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. Getting in, he started the car. “It’s not too far,” he said. “We’ll be there in no time.”

In fact the journey took them about ten minutes, and Emily was getting familiar enough with the layout of the city by now to realise that Billy lived in the dreaded East Side, which Jacob had taken such pains to warn her about. As he drove down a ramp into an underground parking lot beneath a large and grim-looking concrete building, she licked her lips nervously. “This place looks a little ... rough...” The walls of the parking garage were filthy, and covered in graffiti. The ground was strewn with trash.

“Yeah ... I’m sorry,” said Billy, seeming embarrassed. “I don’t live in a particularly nice neighbourhood I’m afraid. I should probably have asked you to put on something less ... sexy. There are some nasty folks around here.”

Emily shivered. “Do you think we can get to your place without running into anyone?”

“Probably,” said Billy. “The elevator over there will take us right up to my floor. I don’t see anyone around. Come on, let’s go.”

They got out of the car, and Emily followed Billy closely as he lumbered over to the elevator door, which were set into a concrete wall next to another door that lee to a flight of stairs. Billy pressed a button, and they waited. A minute later, the door trundled open, and Billy gestured inward. Emily entered, followed by Billy, who pressed the number 8.

As they ascended, Billy blurted out, “Emily, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she replied, slightly warily.

“Why did you choose those particular clothes to wear?”

Emily blushed. “It’s a little complicated,” she said, “but it pretty much boils down to the fact that I’ve discovered I like wearing skimpy clothes. I guess it’s sort of a ... a rebellion ... against my strict upbringing. I’ve always worn long dresses, necklines that were actually around my neck, long sleeves ... and in an outfit like this, I feel free and adventurous. Although ... I’m kind of regretting going quite so extreme this evening...”

“Because of me?” asked Billy glumly.

“Because of this place,” said Emily. “It feels ... unsafe.” She smiled at him. “No, it’s definitely not because of you, Billy. I know you’re a nice guy. I don’t mind you seeing me like this.”

He looked relieved. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe,” he said bravely.

He did not look as if he could keep himself safe, let alone anyone else, but Emily was much too kindhearted to say so. “I know you will, Billy,” she said.

The door slid open again. “Here we are,” he said. “My floor.”

It was as grim and grimy as the rest of the building. Emily saw a small dark object scuttling across the floor, and she jumped. “Was that a ... a cockroach?” Looking around, she realised she could see others.

“Yeah, the whole building’s crawling with them,” sighed Billy. “Complaining doesn’t do any good though – the landlord can’t afford to fumigate the whole building, and if he just does a couple of apartments, the roaches re-infest them within a few days.”

“How horrible!” said Emily in dismay. “How on Earth do you cope? Cockroaches ... they totally freak me out!”

“Sorry,” Billy apologised. “You won’t like my apartment then. But you needn’t stay for long.” He had led her down the corridor a short way, and now he unlocked a door on the left. “Welcome to my humble home.” He opened the door.

Inside was a small, cramped, and very messy living room. “My roommate Gus is a bit of a slob,” Billy explained, picking up from the floor an open box containing a half-eaten pizza that was swarming with large cockroaches. He began flicking the roaches off – fortunately not in Emily’s direction, though she was nevertheless horrified at the sight.

“How can you live like this?” she gasped.

Billy looked around, and shrugged. “It sucks, but you get used to it, I guess. Don't worry about the roaches; they won’t bite. At least, I’ve never been bitten by one.” He took a bite of the pizza, then held out the box toward her. “Want some?”

She stared at him. “No thank you!” she said.

He put the box down on the arm of a threadbare couch. “All right, let’s get down to business,” he said, sitting down. “Have a seat.” He gestured at an armchair.

Emily inspected it for cockroaches, but did not see any on its heavily stained upholstery, so she gingerly sat down, acutely aware that her skirt was too short to tuck beneath her bottom, so the dirty material was fully contacting her bare buttocks and thong-clad pussy.

“Okay,” said Billy, “so for me there are a couple of red flags right away. First, what was Blake doing with eighty thousand bucks of cold cash in a bag in his office? That’s really odd, and more than a little suspicious. Second, I’ve seen no cops at any point today. If he reported the theft of so much money, don’t you think the cops would have come to see him?”

Emily frowned, puzzled. “What do you think that means?”

“He’s hiding something,” said Billy. “Something shady. Probably illegal. And my thinking is, if you can find out what that shady something is, you can use it to get yourself out of trouble.”

“How?” asked Emily. “He already suspects I’m in cahoots with Zack. If I display knowledge of his shady activities, won’t that just confirm his suspicion that the two of us were working together?”

“Hmm,” said Billy. “I see what you mean. But surely he’ll be afraid of you going to the cops...”

“If he isn’t now, I’m not sure why he would be if I confront him with details of his wrongdoings,” Emily countered. Then she squealed as a cockroach ran up on to her thigh. “Oh! Ugh! Go away!” She flicked at it with her hand, but missed. It scuttled off her thigh and scurried away, disappearing over the edge of the seat cushion. “Horrid thing!”

“I’m so sorry,” said Billy guiltily. “I guess I should have suggested a different meeting place.”

Emily sighed. “I’ll live,” she said. “Normally I’m not bad with insects and worms and things like that. It’s just ... cockroaches ... ugh!”

Billy nodded sympathetically. “What is it about them that freaks you out so much?”

Emily shrugged. “Their antennas ... the speed they move... When I was a kid I saw this movie, at a friend’s house ... I was having a sleepover there, and the two of us snuck downstairs and turned on the TV really quietly. There was this horror movie on; neither of us had seen anything like it, and we were fascinated. But then, oh my goodness ... there was this scene where a woman is attacked by thousands of cockroaches. They swarmed all over her, and you could see them going into her ears and mouth. And then there was this gruesome close-up of a cockroach burrowing into her eye...”

“Yikes!” said Billy. “How old were you?”

“About nine or ten, I guess,” said Emily. “Anyway it instilled in me a mortal fear of cockroaches, which I’ve struggled to shake ever since then.”

“I’m not surprised!” said Billy. “You know they wouldn’t really do that though, right?”

“Right,” said Emily, a little dubiously. “I know. It’s just ... hard to shake...”

“Maybe it would help to read up about them, study them a bit,” said Billy. “My roommate Gus is an entomology student, and he just loves cockroaches. He’s taught me a lot about them too. And I gotta say, it does help. I used to see them as nasty pests, but they’re actually pretty amazing creatures. Did you know they were among the first insects on Earth? They appeared around three hundred million years ago, during the Carboniferous period.”

Emily’s brow furrowed. “Um, the Earth isn’t that old, surely. And didn’t all the insects get created together?” Then a realisation hit her. “Oh – is this an evolution thing? Are you ... an atheist?”

Billy stared at her. “Um ... yeah,” he admitted. “But you don’t have to be an atheist to accept evolution as fact, Emily. Most denominations accept it these days.”

“Mine doesn’t,” said Emily, with a rueful chuckle. “At least...” It now occurred to her to wonder if Jacob’s liberalised version of Robertism included the acceptance of evolution. “I was brought up to believe in a six-day creation.”

Billy nodded. “Well, whether you accept the date or not, cockroaches were among the earliest insects on Earth. They’re amazing little things – real survivors.”

Emily shuddered. “Not so little!” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen cockroaches as big as these!”

“That’s because these are American cockroaches,” Billy explained. “Much bigger than German cockroaches, which most people are more familiar with.”

“I don’t think I like either kind,” said Emily with a shudder. “But especially not these ones...”

“Sorry,” said Billy sympathetically. “I tried to exchange them for German roaches, but the guy at the shop had a strict ‘no exchanges’ policy.”

Emily stared at him, until she realised he was joking. She laughed. “Next time maybe you could buy bunny rabbits instead!” she said.

Billy laughed. “You like rabbits?”

“Oh my goodness yes, I adore them,” said Emily. “I got one as a present for my sixth birthday; I named her Pansy. To this day she’s the best present I ever got. I was heartbroken when she died...”

“Awww,” said Billy. “Did you have any other pets?”

Emily nodded. “We always had dogs in our family,” she said. “And a cat. And chickens, and for a few years we even had goats. But they weren’t really pets of course. The only other animal that was truly mine was a goldfish named Jerome; he’s still alive and thriving, but I had to leave him in Oakwood. When Nathan and I are married and settled in a place of our own, I’ll fetch Jerome from my parents’ house.”

“Ah yes,” said Billy. “When are you getting married?”

“When we’re financially stable,” said Emily. “My dad wants Nathan to prove he can support me.” She sighed. “I was hoping to help out with that, by earning money of my own ... but look what’s happened! I’m already eighty thousand dollars in debt!”

“We’ll fix that;” said Billy firmly. “I have a feeling this is probably just the tip of the iceberg of Blake’s illicit dealings. It doesn’t make sense to me that he would keep you on if he really suspected you of stealing from him. More likely he’s just found himself a convenient scapegoat. But I think we need more information. There’s bound to be some incriminating stuff on his computer; I just need to hack into it.”

“Sounds risky!” said Emily nervously.

“I know how to cover my tracks,” said Billy with a shrug. “The main thing is to figure out his password. As a system administrator I can browse through his personal drive, but he has encryption on all of his important documents, and only his password can unlock them. I ... may need your help in getting that password.”

“I ... I don’t want to risk making him even more mad at me,” said Emily, feeling anxious.

“We’ll try to make it as risk-free as possible,” said Billy, “but would you rather have to owe Blake eighty thousand dollars?”

“No,” Emily admitted. “I guess if there’s a way to get out of that debt, I’d be willing to take a little risk.”

“Okay then,” said Billy. “Good. I have the beginnings of a plan...”

But at that moment the front door opened, and a scrawny, bearded, long-haired young man walked in, wearing jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘I LOVE BIG BREASTS’ ... or so it appeared. In far smaller letters, below ‘I LOVE BIG’ but above ‘BREASTS’, was the word ‘turkey’, and beneath BREASTS’ were the words ‘on Thanksgiving’. He stopped in his tracks, staring at Emily in awe. “Whoa!” he said.

“Gus, this is my colleague Emily,” said Billy quickly. “Emily, this is Gus, my roommate.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you!” said Gus, staring keenly at Emily’s faintly visible nipples. “Fuck me, what an outfit!”

Emily winced, but she did not feel comfortable enough with this young man to reprimand him for his language. “Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

“Be nice, Gus,” Billy muttered.

“I’m being nice!” Gus retorted. “You’re a beautiful and very sexy girl, Emily. What the fuck are you doing in this dump? Not that I’m complaining, but I mean ... shit!”

“She got into a bit of trouble at work,” said Billy. “I’m helping her out.”

“Huh,” said Gus. “Well I see you’ve met some of our little friends.” He pointed at Emily’s shoulder.

She glanced down, and gasped as she saw a cockroach scuttling down over her clavicle. “Oh no!” She flapped at it with her hand, and after missing a couple of times, finally succeeded in brushing it off.

“They won’t hurt you,” said Gus cheerfully. “They’re actually pretty amazing. I’m studying them. Did you know these guys can fit into a crack as narrow as a quarter? And they’re super fast – I clocked one at almost three feet per second. That’s like a human running at eighty miles per hour.”

“That’s very interesting,” said Emily, “but I’m afraid I still find them rather creepy!”

“She had a bad experience when she was little,” said Billy. “It gave her a bit of a phobia about them.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Gus. “Phobias are no fun. I have a thing about baths; I’m just terrified of drowning in one as a result of accidentally knocking myself unconscious, or falling asleep. In my case it was a horrible urban legend the kids at my school used to tell each other. Anyway I always take showers because of it.”

“That’s a shame!” said Emily sympathetically. “How are you with swimming pools?”

“Absolutely fine!” said Gus. “That’s the weird thing. I love swimming. Nope, it’s just baths.”

“My phobia is heights,” said Billy. “Even looking at a photo of a cliff makes me nervous. I even get anxious at the idea of climbing a stepladder.”

“Weirdo,” said Gus, and then he laughed. Billy laughed too, and Emily, realising Gus had been joking, joined in. But then Gus said something which made her jaw drop open in shock: “So Emily, how about letting those big tits of yours come out to play?”

“Jesus, Gus!” said Billy angrily. “You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

Gus shrugged. “She’s clearly not shy,” he said. “Come on Emily, let’s see the goods. I know you want to show them off.”

“Gus!” Billy exclaimed, as Emily’s cheeks turned bright red. “Just fuck off to your room, will you?

Gus smirked. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going. Nice to meet you, Emily. I hope we’ll be seeing more of you.”

“Not likely, at this rate!” Billy snapped. Then, as a chuckling Gus disappeared into from view, he turned to Emily. “I’m so sorry; he’s such an asshole.”

“It’s okay,” said Emily, smiling at him reassuringly. “You’re not to blame for his actions.”

Billy sighed. “But what with him being like that, and this place being so disgusting and full of cockroaches, I’m sure you’ll never want to come back here! I wish I could have made this a better experience for you.”

“You’re helping me with Blake,” said Emily, “and that’s what matters. Before Gus arrived, you were about to tell me, I think, that you had a plan for getting Blake’s password.”

“Oh yes!” said Billy. “I do. But like I said, I may need your help with it. It involves installing some software on his laptop; it’ll record all his key presses, and I can use it to figure out his password. The problem is, I can’t install it remotely, because he’s a paranoid bugger and blocks remote software installation automatically. And he rarely lets that laptop out of his sight. If he does leave it unattended, he locks it first. What I need is for you to find a moment when he’s left it unlocked, pop a flash drive into any available USB port, and let it run for a few seconds. It should only take ten or fifteen seconds, I’d say. After that, just pop the stick out and get it back to me. It’s that simple.”

“What if he catches me?” asked Emily nervously.

“You’ll be in even deeper trouble,” Billy admitted. “But if it works, we might be able to get you out of trouble entirely.”

“Oh gosh!” Emily groaned. “This is so stressful! I don’t know what to do!”

“Just think about it,” said Billy. “In the meantime I’ll get the flash drive ready. Remember you can hold on to it as long as you want. Just wait for an opportunity to use it.”

Emily nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me like this, Billy,” she said. “I know you don’t owe me anything...”

Billy chuckled. “Do you think it’s every day I get the opportunity to help out a beautiful woman? The favour is its own reward. I’m not asking for anything; just spending time with you is ... awesome.”

“Awww,” said Emily, smiling. “That’s a nice thing to say.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, rather coyly, “You know ... Billy ... you’re being so kind and helpful to me... I know Gus was being crude and kind of obnoxious, and I certainly wouldn’t make the same offer to him ... but if you yourself would like to, um, see my breasts ... I wouldn’t mind showing you...”

Billy’s eyes widened so much that his eyelids threatened to retreat entirely into his skull. “Are you ... serious?” he asked in an awed whisper.

Emily blushed. She raised her hands and took hold of the lower hem of her top. “I’m serious. Would you ... like to see?”

Billy nodded eagerly. “Of course!” he said. “How could I possibly refuse such an offer?”

Emily bit her lip, then she pulled up her top to uncover her breasts, keeping her eyes fixed on Billy’s in order to gauge his reaction.

He was not exactly hard to read. “Woooowww,” he breathed. “They’re so beautiful! I mean, I could kinda see them through your top, and I could tell they were nice ... and big ... and your blouse at work doesn’t hide much ... but seeing them in their gorgeous entirety like this ... thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you!”

Emily giggled. It amused her no end that Billy could be so rapturous about the fleshy blobs on her chest that she got to see every day in the mirror. “Sometimes I think you men are too easily impressed,” she remarked.

Billy grinned sheepishly. “It’s part of our programming to appreciate a lovely pair of boobs,” he said. “But you have to admit, yours are unusually perfect.”

“Thank you,” said Emily, her blush deepening.

Then Billy suddenly looked a little worried. “This isn’t going to get you into any trouble, is it? I mean, with your fiancé?”

Emily chuckled. “Not at all,” she said. “He’d be encouraging me to do this; he likes me to show myself to other men.”

“Oh!” said Billy in surprise. Then he licked his lips. “I ... I don’t suppose he ... or you ... would allow me to...” He broke off, shaking his head. “Of course not – sorry. Foolish idea.”

Emily guessed what he had been about to ask her for. Her loins tingling, she got to her feet and walked over to the couch, where she sat down next to him. Pulling her top up and over her head, she set it down next to her. “If you want to touch them, go ahead,” she said softly. “Nathan would approve of this too, and I don’t mind at all. So go on, enjoy yourself.”

As if afraid she might change her mind, Billy quickly reached out and took her breasts in his hands. But his touch was light and tentative, as if he was afraid he would damage them. “Holy shit...” he whispered.

“Go on,” Emily encouraged him, “give them a good squeeze. They can take it.”

Billy grasped her breasts more firmly, and then gently squeezed them. He laughed in delight. “They feel so amazing!” he said. “Wow. I’ve ... I’ve never actually done this before...”

“Have you never had a girlfriend?” Emily asked him in surprise.

Billy shook his head. “Not for want of trying!” he said. “At least, I used to throw myself at every girl I met. Not so much these days though; I’ve kinda given up.”

“Don’t give up!” said Emily in dismay. “You’re a nice guy, Billy, and I’m sure there are lots of women who would love to be your girlfriend, if they only knew you.”

“Thus spake every woman I’ve had a crush on in the past ten years,” said Billy ruefully. “You’re the first to say it while I was fondling her boobs, though, so this is a very nice change.”

Emily smiled. “Have you ever even ... kissed a girl, Billy?”

Billy blushed. “Once,” he said. “It didn’t go very well. It was my first year in college and she was a girl from my Java class. There was a party at my dorm... She was super drunk, and only did it because she felt sorry for me. But then she threw up right after, so it wasn’t ideal.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Emily sympathetically. “My first kiss wasn’t great either, but they do get better. Would you ... would you like to try a little kiss ... with me...?”

Billy stared at her. “Yes!” he said. “Yes please! Of course yes! But ... why? Why would you want to?”

Emily shrugged. “I just feel bad for you, knowing you’ve missed out on so many experiences that you should have had by now. I like you, and it would make me happy to give you a few nice memories to think about when you’re feeling lonely.”

“Wow!” said Billy, stunned. “That’s so incredibly kind and generous of you!”

Emily smiled, and spread her arms. “Kiss me, Billy.”

Still clutching her breasts, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, as she put her arms around him. He tongued her mouth clumsily, but she loved it; her vagina was moistening as she swapped saliva with yet another man, while he squeezed and caressed her breasts. As they continued to kiss, sloppily and noisily, Billy leaned further and further forward, and Emily found herself leaning backward as a result, until her head came to rest on the arm of the couch, with her upper back supported by a cushion. She felt Billy’s left hand slide down from her right breast to her hip, and then to her thigh. ‘He’s getting adventurous,’ she thought to herself. ‘Good for him!’

But then she felt a tickling on her ear, and immediately realised it must be a cockroach. The idea of it crawling into her ear and laying its eggs in her brain flashed through her mind, sending her into an instant panic. She jerked her head off the cushion, just a fraction of a second after Billy had raised his own head in order to say something to her.

There was a crunch, and Billy yelped in pain. Emily reeled from the blow her forehead had sustained, and scrabbled at her ear. The roach had already fled, however.

“By doze!” Billy groaned, sitting up and clamping his right hand to his face. A trickle of blood ran down his wrist. “I thik by doze is brokud!”

“Oh no!” cried Emily, horrified. “I’m so sorry, Billy!”

“What’s going on?” demanded Gus, rushing into the room. He stopped and stared at Emily. “Oh! You DID get your tits out! Sweet!”

“Never mind that!” said Emily urgently. “Get some ice!” She grabbed her top, and quickly put it back on.

Gus watched her with interest as he sidled toward the kitchen. “What happened?” he asked.

“I ... I bumped his nose with my head,” Emily said, embarrassed. “It was an accident. “Ice, please!”

Gus disappeared, then returned a few moments later with a bag of frozen vegetables. “No ice,” he apologised. “Will this do?”

“Yes – thank you,” said Emily, taking it. “Here Billy – hold this against your nose.”

Billy did so, but blood continued to pour from his nose. Gus grabbed a handful of tissues; Billy took them and pressed them against his nostrils, stemming the flow.

“Think we ought to get him to the emergency room?” asked Gus nervously. “He does have health insurance...”

“That’s probably a good idea,” said Emily. “Okay, let’s go.”

“We can take my car,” said Gus. “Just don’t bleed all over my seats, Billy!”

“I’ll try dot to!” said Billy.

As they took the elevator down to the parking garage, Emily patted Billy’s shoulder, feeling guilty. “I’m so sorry, Billy.”

“It’s okay,” he replied. “This is still the best day of my life!”

Gus laughed. “Yeah, I bet.”

They helped Billy into Gus’s car – a rust-ridden red Ford Focus – and Gus drove the short distance to the local hospital, Lambert Medical Center. Having checked in at the front desk, they sat for a few minutes in the waiting room, trying to get the flow of blood from Billy’s nose to stop.

Soon enough, a nurse in dark blue scrubs came to fetch Billy; she led him away to be examined by a doctor. Emily and Gus chatted about her life and upbringing in Oakwood; Gus seemed very interested in the strict gender role demarcation within the community. “That’s so weird,” he kept saying. At one point he asked incredulously, “And women don’t wear pants? Like, ever?”

Emily shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “Or shorts, or short skirts, or tank tops – except under other clothes – or, well, anything revealing. But pants in particular are seen as strictly men’s clothes. After all that’s happened, I guess I’m starting to reconsider that belief, but honestly, I don’t really have any interest in wearing pants myself. I’ve gotten too used to showing off my legs.”

“Praise the Lord!” said Gus with a mischievous grin.

Emily was about to respond with a mild rebuke, but then her eye was caught by Billy’s reappearance. He was looking a little bruised around his upper nose, but he was no longer bleeding. Walking with him was a short, bespectacled, grey-haired man in a white jacket, worn over a blue shirt.

As the two men entered the waiting area, the doctor’s eyes fell upon Emily, and he smiled. “Ah, this must be the young lady whose head caused your injury.”

“Yes,” Billy confirmed. “That’s Emily.”

The doctor walked over. “Hello Emily,” he said, regarding her faintly visible breasts and bare legs keenly. “I’m Doctor Purvis. That was quite the collision you two had!”

Emily rubbed her forehead, nodding ruefully. “Yes, I guess it was. I feel terrible – it was all my fault.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to check you out as well,” said the doctor. “With a bump that hard, I’d like to rule out a concussion.”

“Oh I’m sure I wasn’t concussed,” said Emily. “I didn’t lose consciousness or anything.”

“You can get a concussion without losing consciousness,“ Dr. Purvis said. “I’d just like to be sure. Come on – it’ll be on me – free of charge. I just wouldn’t feel right about sending you out into the night without being sure you’re okay.”

“You might as well, if he’s not going to bill your insurance,” said Gus with a shrug. “Peace of mind, and whatnot.”

“Um, okay,” said Emily uncertainly. “It won’t take long, will it? I don’t want to keep my friends waiting...”

“Don’t worry about us,” said Billy firmly. “We don’t mind waiting, do we Gus?”

“Not at all,” said Gus. “The important thing is to make sure you’re okay.”

“All right then,” said Emily, getting to her feet.

“Excellent!” said the doctor happily. “Follow me, please.”

He led her down a corridor, then gestured into an empty exam room. “Take a seat,” he said, as she entered.

Emily sat down, and the doctor pulled up another chair, so that he could sit down directly in front of her. “Your name’s Emily, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Just stare into the distance for me,” he instructed her, and then he shone a light into each of her eyes, in turn. “Any headaches, dizziness, nausea? Since you bumped heads with your friend?”

“A slight headache, perhaps,” Emily admitted.

“Hmm,” said the doctor. “Any other symptoms I should know about? Memory loss, blurry vision, confusion as to where you are ... that kind of thing?”

“No, nothing like that,” said Emily.

“Okay, well I think I can confidently rule out a concussion, then,” said Doctor Purvis. He scooted over to a desk, on which sat a computer. “Last name?”

“Flynn,” said Emily.

The doctor typed her name in, and peered at his screen. “Well you don’t look 74, so I’m guessing this isn’t you. Have you not been to this hospital before?”

“No,” said Emily. “I just moved to the city a week ago.”

“Oh!” said Doctor Purvis, intrigued. “Your family doctor, then, is back in...”

“Oakwood,” said Emily. “Yes.”

The doctor’s eyebrows rose. “Oakwood? Quite a ... religious community, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Emily. “Robertines.”

“You don’t look much like a Robertine,” said the doctor with a slight smirk.

Emily blushed. “I’m ... I’m kind of coming out of my shell...”

Doctor Purvis licked his lips. “Well good for you,” he said. “At any rate, you should find yourself a new family doctor in the city. You never know when you might need one. And, as it happens, I myself am taking new patients right now...”

“You’re a family doctor?” asked Emily in surprise.

Doctor Purvis nodded. “Yes, I’m not really an ER doc. Not anymore. I gave it up six years ago – I was getting burned out, I wasn’t looking after my health... I switched to family practice, which is much less stressful. But I still help out here on occasion, when I’m needed. The turnover rate for ER doctors is pretty high, so the hospital often finds itself short-staffed. But anyway, let me give you my card.” He fished a card out of his pocket, and handed it to her. “Call that number between 8am and 4pm. Have you had a full physical recently?”

“Not for a while,” Emily admitted. “Maybe ... three years ago?”

“Hmm,” said the doctor. “Have you ever had a breast exam?”

Emily’s eyes widened. “No,” she said.

“Breast cancer can hit young and old alike,” said Doctor Purvis, his expression serious. “If you’ve never had a breast exam, you should schedule one as soon as possible. The ACOG recommends women get an exam every one to three years, but in my opinion that isn’t often enough. The year between one annual exam and the next is plenty of time for a tumour to appear, develop, and metastasize. The fastest-growing tumours can double in size every twenty-five days. With that kind of growth you’re talking about a thousandfold increase in just eight months. And metastasis can occur when a tumour is less than half an inch across. I say all this not to scare you, but to make you aware. Breast cancer claims way too many lives; it is one of the more treatable cancers, but early detection is crucial. A woman of your age is at a lower risk than an older woman, but the risk is still there. If you have breasts, you can get breast cancer.”

“Oh my goodness!” said Emily, wide-eyed with alarm. “I had no idea! I mean, I’ve heard of breast cancer, of course, but I didn’t know it could develop so quickly, and in someone of my age!”

The doctor nodded. “Absolutely. But don’t look so worried – the odds are low, for a woman of your age. But wouldn’t you like to be sure you don’t have a nasty little lump lurking in the depths of one of those lovely big breasts of yours?”

Emily shuddered. “Yes!” she agreed. “It really would!”

Doctor Purvis smiled. “I’d be happy to set your mind at ease,” he said. “We could wait until you call my office and schedule a physical, but I don’t want to assume you’re going to choose me as your family doctor. Alternatively I could give you an exam right now. It won’t take long, and I’d be more than happy to. No charge, still – I did promise you a free exam, after all.”

“Um – yes please,” said Emily, feeling quite freaked out at the idea of a tumour growing inside one of her breasts. “That would be very kind of you.” She had no idea what a breast exam involved, but she was imagining some kind of scanning machine that would see inside her breasts, perhaps something like an ultrasound.

“Okay, could you take off your top then please,” said the doctor.

Emily shivered. She had not been topless in front of a doctor since she was a little girl, long before her breasts developed. She had, of course, exposed her breasts to several men in the past week, so this should not seem like much of a big deal ... and yet she felt strangely nervous. Biting her lip, she pulled her top up and over her head.

“Hmm, those are some real beauties, aren’t they?” said Doctor Purvis, appraising them with a slight smirk. “Do you suffer much with backache?”

“Yes, somewhat,” Emily admitted, her cheeks blushing from his unprofessional compliment. “I’ve had a couple of massages, though – last Thursday and then on Sunday – and they really helped a lot.”

The doctor nodded. “Massages can help,” he said. “I’m a little surprised you’re not wearing a bra; is that normal for you?”

“I gave up wearing bras a few days ago,” said Emily, then she gasped as he took her breasts in his hands. “I ... I just discovered I felt more comfortable going braless.”

The doctor nodded. “Comfort is key,” he said, as he began firmly kneading her breasts. “Some bras are more comfortable than others, but there’s no bra in the world that will take all the pressure off your back and neck. These lovely chest cushions of yours weigh a lot, and there’s no getting around that. Massage may turn out to be your best friend, unless you decide to opt for surgical reduction.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that!” said Emily, shocked.

“Glad to hear it,” said the doctor. “That would be a great shame, if completely understandable. Raise your right arm please. Your breast tissue actually goes all the way up into your armpit, so I have to check all the way up ... okay, good, all clear. Left arm now please.”

“I’ve heard,” said Emily, holding up her left arm, “that bras prevent ... you know, um ... sagging...”

“Complete myth,” said the doctor matter-of-factly. “As you get older, the ligaments keeping your breasts in shape will naturally start to break down and stretch as the collagen and elastin from which they are made degrade. Bras can’t prevent that from happening; it’s a normal part of the aging process. As you get older and your breasts begin to droop, you may want to resume wearing bras for cosmetic reasons, but that’s entirely up to you. You’ve got a good few years before you need to start worrying about that, though. I’m going to put some gel on your breasts now, okay? It’ll make it easier for me to detect lumps lurking deep in the tissue.”

“Um, okay...”

The doctor got up from his chair, and fetched a large tube from a cabinet on the wall. Squirting a large mound of clear gel into his left hand, he put the tube back, then transferred half of the gel into his right hand. Then he walked around behind emily, bent down, and began slathering the gel all over her breasts, making her gasp again.

“Mmm,” said the doctor. “Yup, these marvellous mammaries are works of art ... but their sheer size does make it harder to give them a thorough examination. This may take me a little while...”

Emily, reeling a little from the impropriety of his compliments, sat rather stunned for a few moments as he thoroughly massaged her slippery breasts. It occurred to her to wonder whether he was simply having fun at her expense ... she was not naive enough to assume he was not deriving at least some pleasure from this examination ... but she noticed that he was gradually working his way around her breasts in a methodical manner, pressing his fingers deep, exploring every part of her soft flesh. He might well be having fun, but he did seem to be doing his job in the process.

She became less sure of this when he began rubbing and pinching her nipples, but she said nothing, even when the exam passed the five-minute mark. Finally, however, having given both breasts a final vigorous jiggle, he squeezed them hard, clamping her nipples between his fingers. “All clear!” he said, letting go and returning to his chair. “One quick question before you go, though. Are you sexually active?”

Emily’s eyes widened. She was not quite sure how to answer this. “Um ... it kind of depends what you mean...”

“Well, have you had sex recently...?” Doctor Purvis inquired.

Emily stared at her knees. “I ... I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I don’t know if it counts. I’ve, um ... come pretty close.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean, exactly? What have you done with your ... boyfriend?” Then, when he saw Emily’s fingers squirming together wretchedly, he added, more gently, “This is a safe space, Emily. Whatever you tell me is in complete confidence. If there’s something worrying you, it might help to get it off your chest.”

Emily was feeling driven to confess. “I ... I was fooling around with a boy,” she blurted out. It wasn’t my fiancé – he and I haven’t done anything together, really – it was one of his friends...” She bit her lip, then continued, “My fiancé doesn’t mind me kissing other boys ... men, even ... but I maybe went a little too far with his friend. His ... thing ... went inside me, just a little bit. I ... I’m not sure if that means we had sex. I’m really hoping it doesn’t – I’m supposed to still be a virgin on my wedding day...”

“Well perhaps I can ease your mind on that score,” Doctor Purvis suggested. “How about I examine you ... down below ... and then I can give you my expert opinion.”

“Oh ... I don’t know,” said Emily uncertainly.

“Please, I insist,” said Doctor Purvis. “Still free of charge! You might as well take advantage of the fact that I’m here in my capacity as an ER stand-in and not as a family doctor.”

“Okay...” said Emily reluctantly.

“All right then,” said the doctor, pleased. “Just take off your skirt and panties, and we’ll get this done.”

Emily wondered for a moment why she needed to take both garments off, but it was not in her nature to question a doctor’s instructions. Standing up and feeling very embarrassed, she unzipped her skirt, then pulled it down along with her panties. As she stepped out of them, the doctor pointed to an exam table covered with a paper sheet. “Just hop up there,” he said, getting to his feet. “Best to remove your shoes, too.” He did not explain why; perhaps he was worried she might rip the paper with her shoes. “Sit right at the end of the table, then lie back.”

Emily obediently removed her shoes, and climbed on to the table, now completely naked. As she lay down, with her bottom at the very end of the table, Doctor Purvis pulled her knees apart, then pushed them back either side of her breasts, making her squeal and slap a hand over her pussy and vagina. But the doctor merely tutted at her. “I can’t examine you with your hand in the way,” he chided her gently. “Come on, let me have a look.”

Reluctantly, Emily withdrew her hand. Doctor Purvis bent over to peer closely at her pussy for a moment, then he straightened up and fetched his tube of gel again. “I think a proper inspection is warranted,” he said, pointing the tube at her pussy and giving it a good squeeze. Gel squirted out in a long stream, piling up all over her vulva in a large and rather chilly mound.

“Oh!” Emily gasped. “It’s a little cold!”

Doctor Purvis grinned as he set the tube down and began smearing the gel all over her pussy with the splayed fingers of his right hand. “It’ll soon warm up,” he said, thoroughly coating her pussy and vaginal opening, sinking his middle finger between her labia, which he then sandwiched and squeezed between his fingers as he vigorously rubbed his whole hand back and forth.

“Oh goodness!” Emily whimpered, torn between mortification and arousal. She could not tell if he was being professional or not; surely this was not normal? But what if it was...? She had never had such an intimate exam before; perhaps they were always like this.

“Okay, I’m going to penetrate you now,” said Doctor Purvis cheerfully, and he slid two very lubricated fingers deep into her vagina, making her squeal again. “No need to panic, Emily; this is just part of the service, and remember you’re getting it for free!” He smiled as he thrust his fingers in and out of her a few times. The he paused, with his fingers buried inside her. “Now, what I can report is that your hymen is broken – looks like it may have happened today...”

“I knew it!” Emily groaned. “I felt it. But ... there was no blood!”

“There isn’t always,” said Doctor Purvis. “But fear not! This doesn’t mean you lost your virginity. Hymens get broken for all kinds of reasons; it can coincide with losing your virginity, but it doesn’t have to.”

“My friend said something similar,” said Emily, who could not help noticing that the doctor was slowly easing his fingers in and out of her. “But if a ... a cock entering me and breaking my hymen doesn’t equate to losing my virginity ... then what does?”

“That’s an interesting question!” said the doctor. “I’m not sure if there’s a definitive answer. Virginity is a meaningless concept, medically speaking. Nothing about you changes as a result of losing it. I mean, what have you actually lost, in practical terms? Nothing at all! Whether you’ve had sex or not changes nothing about you. I mean it can – it can get you pregnant, break your hymen, give you an STD, affect your relationships ... but that could apply to any time you have sex – not just the first time. It’s really just a symbolic, psychological thing.”

“All the same,” said Emily dubiously, “I’d like to have some kind of answer as to whether I’m still a virgin or not. It’s important to my fiancé. And to me.”

Doctor Purvis nodded. “Then I shall try to settle it for you one way or another. It would help if I knew exactly how far your friend got. Would you be willing to show me?”

Emily bit her lip. “Sure,” she said. “I can do that.”

The doctor withdrew his fingers, then he unzipped his trousers, reached in and, to Emily’s shock, pulled out a semi-erect penis. “All right,” he said, “I’ll slowly start sliding this into you, and you tell me...”

Emily’s eyes bulged. “Are you serious? This can’t be a normal thing you do with patients...”

“Of course it isn’t,” said the doctor, unruffled. “But I don’t normally get asked to adjudicate an issue like this. Honestly I’ve never before been asked by a patient whether she’s still a virgin or not. I’m happy to answer the question for you, but I need as clear an idea as possible of what you and your friend did.” He used some more gel to lubricate his cock, which was rapidly swelling to full tumescence. Then he guided the tip of his penis to Emily’s vaginal opening. “Okay, tell me when to stop.”

Emily, feeling rather shell-shocked, gasped as she felt her vagina begin to expand around the swollen head of the doctor’s erection. She lifted her head up and looked down between her spread thighs, shuddering at the sight of the doctor’s pale cock sliding slowly inside her. “Stop!” she said urgently.

The doctor froze. “This is how far he got?” he asked. “This point exactly? Think carefully, Emily. If you want me to give you an accurate assessment, you need or be sure about this.”

Emily hesitated. She was not a hundred percent sure, but she felt like Mack might have been a little deeper than the doctor was now. “Maybe,” she conceded reluctantly, “he was just a bit further in...”

Doctor Purvis smiled, and resumed pushing forward. His cock slid deeper into Emily’s vagina.

“Stop!” Emily said again. “That’s it. No further please! That’s as far as he got. In fact that might be a little further than he got...”

“Okay,” said the doctor, looking down at his cock. Its entire head was buried inside Emily, along with about half an inch of the shaft. “And was there any thrusting at this point, or did he take it straight back out?”

“He took it straight out again,” said Emily. “At least ... well, later on he put it back in again, the same amount, and he kept it there a little while so he could take a photo. But there wasn’t any ... thrusting.”

“I see,” said the doctor, nodding. Then, “Excuse me a moment.” He raised his arm, then abruptly coughed into the crook of his elbow.

Emily squealed as she felt the man’s cock suddenly thrust an inch deeper inside her, before recoiling about half an inch. “Oh no!”

“Sorry about that,” the doctor apologised. “Had a tickle in my throat. Okay, well I think I’m ready to give you my verdict.”

Emily stared up at him anxiously. “Yes?”

He took hold of her knees, and smiled down at her as he subtly eased his cock a tiny bit deeper into her vagina. “I’d say you’re still a virgin,” he said, “by any metric that’s meaningful. What makes you a virgin is whether you’ve had sexual intercourse or not. Different dictionaries vary on the definition of sexual intercourse, but I’m sure I’ve read at least one definition that describes it as ‘penetration of the female’s vagina by the male’s penis, followed by rhythmic thrusting and typically culminating in ejaculation of semen into the vagina’. Other dictionaries are more vague and by some of them, yes, you’ve had sex.”

“Oh no!” groaned Emily.

“But I regard such definitions as inadequate,” the doctor continued, “and clearly not written with any nuance in mind. In my opinion, in order to count as proper sexual intercourse the penis must either be fully inserted, or there must be at least some thrusting ... and preferably both. Since you have experienced neither, I’m happy to say you can still consider yourself a virgin.” He slowly pulled his cock out of her, and tucked it back into his trousers.

“Oh, thank you!” said Emily gratefully. “That’s such a relief!”

“You’re welcome,” the doctor replied. “You can put your clothes back on now. Don’t forget to call my office, if you decide you want me as your family doctor. I do hope you will.”

“I will,” said Emily, climbing off the table. “Thank you!”

Doctor Purvis watched her get dressed, then he followed her out of the room. “Right this way,” he directed her. “No need to check out. I’ll see you again soon, I hope!”

“See you soon!” said Emily.

“You okay?” asked Billy, when she rejoined him and Gus.

“Yes!” she said. “I’m fine, thanks. How about you?”

“I’m okay,” he replied. “Nose isn’t broken, thank goodness.”

“That’s a relief!” said Emily. “Well, I guess I’d better be getting home...”

“Where do you live?” asked Gus.

Emily told him, and he plugged the address into his phone. “Might as well drop you off first,” he said. “Come on, let’s go.”

After a short drive back to the Davises, Emily got out of the car. “Sorry it was such a traumatic evening!” she said. “We never even got to play any of your board games, Billy!”

“No worries,” he replied with a chuckle. “Another time, maybe?”

“Sure!” she said.

“And don’t worry about Blake!” said Billy. “I’ll work on that flash drive, okay? I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

“Okay,” said Emily nervously. “Thank you.”

“Bye Emily!” said Gus. “It was awesome meeting you.”

“Bye Gus!” she said. “Bye Billy.”

She entered the house, and walked into the living room, where she found Paul watching a movie. “Hey!” he said happily. “Why don’t you shed those clothes and join me for a bit?”

“I’d rather not start a movie in the middle,” Emily said apologetically.

Paul hit pause. “We don’t have to watch this,” he said. “How about we finish The Incredible Hulk? I can run up and grab the disc from my room...”

“Sure!” she said. “But wouldn’t you rather watch it up there?”

“Nah, this screen’s bigger,” he said. “Come on – let’s see that luscious body of yours. I’ve been missing you so much today!”

Emily smiled. “I missed you too,” she said. As she pulled her top off, she giggled a little. “Actually, Paul, I’m feeling extremely aroused right now. I can’t wait for our goodnight kiss later.”

Paul’s eyes widened; and he grinned. “Could you maybe ... give me another blowjob...?”

Emily blushed deeply. “I might just have an even nicer surprise for you, if you’re good,” she said mischievously.

“Oooh, I can’t wait!” said Paul excitedly. “Do you want to just skip the movie and go straight to bed?”

“No,” said Emily, shaking her head as she pulled down her skirt and panties. “It’s a little early for bed. Let’s finish the film, and save the exciting stuff for later.”

Paul laughed. “Sounds like you’re not expecting much from the film.”

Emily chuckled. “Different kind of exciting,” she said, kicking off her shoes. She bent down and picked her clothes up. “I’ll just take these upstairs.”

“I’ll get the movie,” said Paul.

As he followed her up the stairs, Emily squealed as she felt his hand slip between her legs, groping her pussy. “Paul!” she admonished him.

He snickered. “Couldn’t resist!” he said.

In his room, a couple of minutes later, they resumed watching the film, with Paul half-reclining on a couple of pillows, and Emily leaning against him. They had not been watching long, however, when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” said Paul, pausing the film.

Mary entered, smiling as she saw Emily. “Ah, hello dear,” she said. “How was your visit with your friend?”

“Good thanks,” said Emily. “Except I accidentally sent him to the emergency room!”

“Oh my!” said Mary, looking shocked.

“You did?” asked Paul in surprise.

“I hit his nose with my head,” Emily explained. “I didn’t break it, thank goodness, but we thought I might have done, so we rushed him to the hospital.”

“We?” Paul inquired.

“Billy’s roommate Gus and I,” said Emily. “Anyway he’s fine now, but it did rather cut short our ... conversation. About work.”

“Well I’m glad he’s okay,” said Mary. “Did you eventually resolve your work issue?”

“It’s a work in progress,” Emily replied ruefully. “But if anyone can help me fix it, I’m sure Billy can.”

“Good, good,” said Mary. “Well I’ll let you get back to your movie. Would either of you like a drink or a snack...?”

“Popcorn?” asked Paul hopefully.

Mary chuckled. “Sure, I think we have some. Just the microwave stuff, of course. Anything for you, Emily?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Emily.

Mary nodded, then she backed out of the room, and Paul hit Play. Five minutes later, Mary reappeared with popcorn, which Paul and Emily shared as they watched the rest of the film.

“Well?” asked Paul, as the credits rolled. “What did you think?”

“Very cool and interesting!” said Emily. “I think I preferred Iron Man though.”

“Yeah, you and pretty much everyone,” said Paul. “Oh wait – post-credits sequence.”

Emily watched, and her eyes lit up. “Tony Stark!”

Paul grinned. “Yup.” After the scene had finished, he said, “Okay, I’m going to go brush my teeth. Unless you’d like to go first...?”

Emily shook her head. “You go ahead, if you’re just brushing your teeth. I need to have a shower.”

“Oh, okay,” said Paul, and he left the room.

Emily walked to her bedroom, and pulled her phone out of her bag. To her surprise, and no small dismay, she saw that she had seventeen unread texts. Opening up her messages app, she began to go through them methodically.

Several were from Eugene – a series of increasingly naughty photos taken in the warehouse office kitchen, including one of Carlos rubbing her pussy through her thong while Mike and Richie fondled her breasts; these were followed by a text that read ‘Loved meeting you today Emily. Hope you’ll visit us again soon! Eugene’. A few more were from Mike and Fred; she shivered a little as she opened them up. The last three were from Mack; these were the most explicit of all, and she gulped nervously.

What was she going to do with them? If she just kept them on her camera roll, there was a risk Nathan would discover them ... and she was not quite ready to show the worst ones. What was that Mack had said about a password-locked folder...? Perhaps she could figure out how to make one of those. But then, would Nathan not be suspicious and curious about why she had a password-locked folder...?

She texted Mack back: ‘I’m not ready to show these to Nathan. How can I keep them hidden?’ As she hit Send, it then occurred to her of course that he might see this conversation. So she added, ‘And how can I hide texts??’

He did not reply immediately, so she called Nathan. After a few seconds, his voicemail picked up, so she left him a brief message: “Hi Nathan, I was hoping to say goodnight to you before I went to bed, but maybe you’ve gone to bed already. I hope you sleep well. I love you!” She hung up.

Someone knocked on her door, and she said, “Come in!”

Mary entered. “Hello dear – I was hoping to catch you before you went to bed. I just wanted to let you know I shortened some of your skirts and dresses today, as we discussed. I hope the results are to your liking. I also – I hope you don’t mind, it was a bit of an experiment – shortened one of your white tank tops. I know you don’t sleep in them anymore, so I hoped it would be okay...”

“Oh!” said Emily in surprise. “Well, let’s take a look. And thank you for doing all that today – it’s really very kind of you.”

Mary pulled Emily’s skimpified tank top out of a drawer, and handed it to her with a slightly sheepish expression. “If I overplayed my role, I humbly apologise,” she said. “I was just having so much fun!”

Emily chuckled as she put her arms into it. “It won’t be the end of the world if I can’t wear it,” she said. She pulled it over her head, then down over her breasts ... which they only barely covered. “Goodness!” she said. “It’s so short now!”

“Oh my, yes!” said Mary, looking rather abashed. “I must admit, I didn’t mean for it to look quite that skimpy on you!”

“It’s super sexy,” Emily conceded. “I think Nathan would love it ... and probably a lot of other men too...”

“I imagine so!” said Mary, laughing.

“I’m just not sure when I would wear it...”

Paul stepped into the room, a broad grin appearing on his face as he looked Emily up and down. “Now that’s what I call an outfit!” he said.

Emily blushed. “Your mom shortened this top,” she said. “I like it, but I don’t know when I would wear it.”

“Hmm,” said Paul thoughtfully. Then his face lit up. “How about on our morning runs? It’s not really any more skimpy than your sports bra.”

Emily stared at him. “But my sports bra holds ... everything in place! This certainly wouldn’t.”

“Awww, but it’ll be fun watching your boobs bouncing around,” said Paul with a mischievous grin.

“Paul!” Mary chided him. “Don’t be crude.”

“Awww, Emily doesn’t mind,” said Paul.

“It would be very uncomfortable!” said Emily. “Painful, even. I’m sure it would damage them.”

“That’s true,” Mary agreed. “It’ll make them stretch and sag before their time. Which would be such a pity; they hold up so remarkably well for their size right now.”

Emily nodded. “See?” she said to Paul.

“Awww,” said Paul glumly. “I wouldn’t want that. But ... what if ... what if instead of running in the mornings, we just ... walked? You know ... like, speed-walking. We’d still get some exercise, and I reckon it wouldn’t be so hard on your boobs.”

Emily hesitated. “I’d really prefer to run ... but I guess that might work...”

“Perhaps we could alternate?” Paul suggested. “Run one day, speed-walk the next?”

“Maybe,” Emily conceded.

“You would really go out walking in that top?” asked Mary, looking rather awed. “You’ve become quite the brave girl, haven’t you! I just hope you don’t run into any unsavoury types...”

“We did this morning, actually,” said Paul. “But we handled it.”

Emily nodded. “That’s true,” she agreed. “I think we’ll be all right, Mary. This isn’t a bad neighbourhood.”

“Fair enough!” said Mary. “All right then – I guess I’m glad I shortened this top. But perhaps next time I’ll wait until asked.”

Emily smiled. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve discovered I like wearing skimpy outfits, as you know, so I’m not likely to object if you feel like trimming some material off any other pieces of clothing I have. I just feel bad that you’re working so hard on my behalf!”

“Oh nonsense,” said Mary briskly. “I’ve been having a blast! It’s been a long time since I’ve really gotten to flex my sewing muscles. With your blessing, then, I might have another peek through your clothing tomorrow; see what else I can find to skimpify...”

Emily giggled. “Okay.”

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone,” said Mary. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting to have a nice goodnight kiss...?”

Paul grinned. “Yeah!” he said, as Emily blushed.

Mary smiled. “Have fun, then.”

Once she had left the room, Paul stepped towards Emily, and took her in his arms. But she leaned away from him as he tried to kiss her. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet, Paul,” she reminded him. “Or had my shower.”

“Oh yes,” he said, letting her go. “I’ll just try to wait patiently, then.”

Emily turned to leave, then gasped as she felt Paul’s hand swatting her left buttock. “Paul!” she exclaimed; turning back in shock.

He grinned cheekily. “Such a nice bottom deserves a good spank,” he said.

“You’re getting pretty big for your boots there, Mister!” she admonished him, her cheeks turning bright pink.

His grin faded. “I didn’t ... hurt you, did I?” he asked anxiously. “I was just trying to be playful.”

Emily shook her head. “No, not really – it was just a bit of a shock.” Then she smiled. “I have been quite a naughty girl, though, haven’t I? Maybe I do deserve a good spanking...” Then, as Paul’s eyes and mouth widened, she laughed and winked at him, and skipped out of the room before he could try for another spank.

Half an hour later, when she returned to her room, Paul was naked and in her bed, and playing a game on his phone. Smiling shyly, she climbed in next to him, lying down on her back.

Paul put his phone down, then held up the bottle of baby oil. “May I?”

She nodded, and he pulled the covers back, exposing her clean and freshly shaven nakedness once more. Drizzling some oil over her pussy, he began rubbing it in sensuously, while she closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. Then she felt him climbing on top of her, and the shaft of his cock pressing between her labia. As he thrust back and forth, rubbing his slippery erection against her clitoris, she began to moan softly, undulating her hips beneath his, grinding her pussy against him.

He kissed her, and she eagerly responded, sucking on his tongue as he writhed it around inside her mouth. His hands were on her breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples. Then he reached down with his right hand, and slid two fingers inside her vagina. Spreading her thighs wide apart, she moaned in delight.

Then Paul lifted his head, and looked down at her. “You said you had a surprise for me,” he said. “I’m very curious what that might be.”

Emily smiled up at him, a little breathlessly. “I want you to put it inside me,” she whispered. Then, as his eyes widened in astonishment, she added quickly, “But not yet! First you have to promise me two things. You can’t put it in all the way – just ... halfway in I guess would be okay ... and also, you can’t do any thrusting. I ... I talked to a doctor about this, and he said that as long as you don’t go all the way in, and you don’t thrust, then technically we’re not actually having sex. And if we’re not having sex, then I’m still a virgin. But I have to stay a virgin for Nathan! Okay? You can’t take my virginity. If you can promise me you won’t thrust, or put it all the way in, then you can go ahead and put it halfway in.”

“Okay!” said Paul excitedly. “I can totally do that. I promise.” He took hold of his cock, and pressed it against her vaginal opening. “Are you sure?”

Emily was not only sure, she was excited and eager to feel his cock entering her. She nodded. “Push it in,” she whispered.

Paul slowly eased his penis inside her, as Emily gasped and wrapped her legs around his back. “Oh yes!” she murmured. “That feels so good!”

It really did. Ever since her accidental partial penetration by Mack, and subsequent deliberate partial penetration by both Mack and Doctor Purvis, Emily had been unable to get out of her mind the sensation of having a penis inside her. It had thrilled her to her core, and she desperately wanted more. Much more. “Ohhh, kiss me, Paul...”

Paul kissed her, and although he dutifully stopped the intrusion of his cock at the halfway point, it was not easy to maintain his position as Emily gyrated her pelvis and pulled against the small of his back with her calves. Noticing he was sinking deeper inside her, he pulled out a little, but he was soon sinking deeper again.

Emily trusted him to keep his promise, but she could not help feeling a burning desire for him to break it. If he did, there would be nothing she could do to stop him. One quick thrust of his hips and he would be fully inside her. It was a terrifying, deliciously dangerous, wonderfully exciting position to be in. Her virginity – so important to her and Nathan – hung by a slender, fragile thread. That thread was Paul’s commitment to his promise ... and Emily knew very well that in his aroused state, Paul’s judgment was almost certainly impaired – as indeed hers was. Still, she felt sure that Paul would keep his promise. If she had not been sure of this, she would not have let him inside her. Yes, this was dangerous, but it was a calculated risk.

Nevertheless, as their excitement rose, and their tongues stirred their mixed saliva together, and their bodies writhed against each other, Paul suddenly stiffened. “Oh no!” he gasped, just as Emily realised that she could now feel Paul’s pelvis pressing against hers. His cock felt thick and hard inside her – and it felt as if it was probably all the way in.

“Paul!” she gasped in alarm.

“I’m sorry!” he said, looking panicked. “I ... I didn’t notice how far it was going in!”

“Are you all the way inside?” she asked, her stomach cramping in fear. Even now, she was hoping that somehow his reply might be ‘Not quite’.

But he nodded. “I’m so sorry!”

“Get out of me!” said Emily, pushing against him. “Oh no, oh my goodness, I can’t believe I was so stupid! I trusted you, Paul!”

“I know!” he replied miserably, as he pulled out of her vagina and climbed off her. “I didn’t mean to!”

Emily groaned in despair. “Oh, it’s mostly my fault,” she said. “I was being very reckless. It just ... it felt so good! I can’t believe I’m not a virgin anymore...”

“Maybe you still are,” Paul suggested hopefully, eager to make her feel better. “I didn’t do any thrusting, right? How can we say we had sex if I didn’t thrust inside you? That’s what fucking is, right? The thrusting? I didn’t do that, so how could we have had sex?”

Emily shook her head dubiously. “The doctor said it was an either or thing,” she said. “He was going off a very specific definition of sexual intercourse that he had found in some dictionary or other.”

“What was that dictionary?” asked Paul. “Maybe we can double-check the wording. Maybe he misquoted it, or misunderstood it.”

“He didn’t say,” said Emily mournfully.

“Then let’s look it up!” said Paul. “Lots of dictionaries have online editions; we can check a few of them and see if we can find the one he was talking about.”

“Okay...” A faint glimmer of hope began to creep back into Emily’s mind. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Paul picked up his phone, deftly pulled up a web browser, and began searching for dictionaries, while Emily waited anxiously.

“Let’s see,” said Paul. “Here’s one. ‘Sexual intercourse. Act of procreation involving insertion of the penis into the vagina.’ That’s pretty vague...”

Emily nodded. “Keep looking.”

The next one was no more helpful. “This one defines it as ‘Genital contact, especially the insertion of the penis into the vagina, followed by orgasm.’”

“Neither of us had an orgasm,” said Emily, clutching at straws.

“True, but that word ‘especially’ is the problem with this definition,” said Paul. “Never mind, let’s keep looking.” He browsed for a little while longer. “Nope,” he muttered. Then he brightened. “Oh! How about this: ‘The act carried out for procreation or for pleasure in which, typically, the insertion of the male's erect penis into the female's vagina is followed by rhythmic thrusting usually culminating in orgasm.’”

Emily’s heart sank. “That might have been the one he was talking about,” she said. “But the word ‘typically’ doesn’t help.”

“I’ll keep looking, then,” said Paul. Then he snorted. “‘The act of having sex.’ Helpful.” He was silent for another minute or so. Then he gasped. “Got it! Listen to this: ‘the act of sexual procreation between a man and a woman; the man's penis is inserted into the woman's vagina and excited until orgasm and ejaculation occur.’ He looked up. “That’s super specific! And it totally disqualifies what we just did.”

“I don’t know,” said Emily nervously. “Sex without orgasm ... isn’t sex? I’m not sure many people would accept that...”

“Doesn’t matter!” said Paul. “We have it here in black and white in the dictionary.”

“What dictionary is that?” asked Emily.

“Um ... Babylon,” said Paul.

Emily rolled her eyes. “Figures,” she said.

“It’s just a name,” said Paul. “The point is, you now have support for the position that you’re still a virgin because you haven’t yet had proper sexual intercourse.”

Emily was still not convinced. “Can you please keep looking?” she asked, a little plaintively.

Paul sighed. “Of course,” he said. Then, a few moments later, he muttered, “Hmm, I wonder...” After a while, his brow furrowed, then his lips began to move silently as he read and re-read what was on the screen. Then he lit up again. “This is it!” he said excitedly. “Wikipedia! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. Listen to this – it’s as comprehensive a description you’re likely to find outside of a medical journal. ‘Sexual intercourse (or coitus or copulation) is sexual activity typically involving the insertion and thrusting of the penis into the vagina for sexual pleasure, reproduction, or both. This is also known as vaginal intercourse or vaginal sex. Other forms of penetrative sexual intercourse include anal sex (penetration of the anus by the penis), oral sex (penetration of the mouth by the penis or oral penetration of the female genitalia), fingering (sexual penetration by the fingers), and penetration by use of a dildo...’ That’s it!”

“It still says ‘typically’...” said Emily doubtfully.

“But then it explains what that means!” says Paul excitedly. “‘Typically’ it involves inserting and thrusting into the vagina, BUT it can also refer to anal or oral sex. That’s probably what the other dictionaries meant by ‘typically’ as well.”

“But then, doesn’t that mean I’ve already had sexual intercourse?” asked Emily, aghast. “Since I’ve given ... you ... a blowjob?”

“You could say that,” Paul conceded. “But what we’re really talking about here is your virginity ... and that refers just to vaginal sex, right? I don’t think anyone would argue you’re not a virgin if you’ve sucked a cock.”

“Right,” Emily agreed, thinking hard. “So ... what they refer to as vaginal sex...”

“Is ‘inserting and thrusting of the penis into the vagina’!” said Paul, reading from his phone again. “You can’t get clearer than that, right?”

Emily smiled. “I guess not!” she said. “So ... I really am still a virgin?”

“You really are!” said Paul happily. “And this means that I can put my cock back inside you, and as long as I don’t thrust it, we’ll be fine!”

Emily shivered. “I ... I think I’d like that...”

Paul put his phone down, and grinned. “Well, I’m still hard – look,” he said. “Shall we pick up where we left off?”

Emily nodded, and Paul lay back down on top of her, guiding his erect penis into her vagina once more. Emily sighed as he slid all the way in, and she wrapped her legs around his back. “Ohhh...” she sighed. “This feels amazing. No wonder people like sex so much...” Now that she was no longer panicking over her virginity, she felt more able to drink in this magical experience, to enjoy the delicious feeling of being filled with a man’s cock. She wiggled her pelvis against Paul’s, pressing hard so that his erection probed her as deep as possible. “What does it feel like for you, Paul?” she asked.

“Oh my gosh, it feels so good,” he replied fervently. “It’s like ... like my whole cock is getting a hot hug. Sliding it in was amazing, because the most sensitive part – you know, the head – got a nice smooth stroking. I so badly want to feel that again ... but don’t worry, I won’t thrust. Just staying absolutely still like this is ... it’s an incredible, wonderful experience! I’m just so happy right now...”

“Kiss me,” said Emily.

He did, and they made out in an unhurried fashion, entwining their tongues and their bodies as Paul’s cock remained buried deep inside Emily.

“Oh, this is heaven...” Emily sighed, when she finally came up for air. “But I really want to have an orgasm...”

“Me too,” Paul agreed. “Want me to finger you while you give me a blowjob?”

Emily nodded. “Yes please!”

There was a slight sucking noise as Paul extricated himself from her interior, and then he wiped himself down thoroughly with a tissue. As Emily took him into her mouth, he leaned over and slid two fingers into her vagina. After a couple of minutes of sucking, and fingering, both were on the brink of orgasm.

Paul climaxed first, sending semen shooting deep into Emily’s mouth. She swallowed, sucked, swallowed some more ... and then uttered a muffled moan and shook uncontrollably as her own orgasm surged through her whole body.

Afterwards, they lay panting next to each other for a couple of minutes without talking. Then Emily switched her light off.

“You want me to leave?” Paul whispered. “Or can I stay awhile?”

“You can stay,” said Emily. “I’m going to turn on my side – want to cuddle me from behind?”

“Totally!” he replied.

Shortly afterwards, as he was snuggling up against her back, he whispered, “I’m hard again. Can I put it inside you?”

Emily shivered, despite the warmth of the room and the heat radiating from Paul’s body. “Yes,” she replied, and she smiled happily as she felt his erection gently slide into her vagina once more. “Just ... no thrusting, okay? You promise?”

“I promise,” he said. “Can we ... do this every night, maybe...?”

Emily hesitated. She knew she should be cautious, be guarded, be careful not to encourage him too much ... but it was too much in her nature to be honest. “I would love that,” she whispered. “I love feeling your cock inside me, Paul.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, “I love you.”

Emily tensed up a little. But then she relaxed. “I know,” she said.

“I so badly want to fuck you...”

“I know that too,” she said. “Now hush – let’s just get to sleep, shall we?”

“Okay.”

As she lay there quietly, it suddenly occurred to Emily that she had not yet said her prayers. She did not, however, feel right about saying them while her vagina was stuffed full of penis. ‘I’ll catch up tomorrow night,’ she promised herself.

DAY 9 – WEDNESDAY

Emily awoke to find herself on her back, with her thighs spread wide apart. Paul had apparently oiled either his cock or her pussy, or both, because he was currently sliding very smoothly into her. She opened her eyes to see his face grinning down at her. “Good morning Emily,” he said.

“Good morning,” she replied. “You think it’s okay to just stick your cock in me while I’m sleeping, do you?”

“I kinda hoped it would be,” he said, slightly abashed.

She smiled. The idea that he had carefully pulled her legs apart, climbed on top of her, lubed either her or himself up, and then started pushing his cock into her while she was still sleeping, was actually quite exciting. “It’s okay,” she said. “It feels really good. But maybe we shouldn’t kiss right now; you have morning breath.”

Paul recoiled, mortified. “I’m sorry!” he said, holding a hand over his mouth.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I do too,” she said. She wrapped her legs around his back, and grinned. “Would you like to play a little game, Paul?”

He was by now fully buried inside her. “Uh, sure!” he said. “What kind of game?”

She wiggled her pelvis against his. “Would you like to hear me beg you to ... to fuck me, Paul?”

He blinked. “Really? You want me to...”

“You can’t actually do it!” she cautioned him. “You know that, right? But do you think you can resist the urge to start, you know, thrusting ... if I’m pleading with you to do exactly that?”

A slow smile crept across Paul’s face. “That does sound like fun,” he said. “And yes, you can trust me to keep still.”

“No matter what I say?” she persisted.

“No matter what,” he assured her.

“Okay,” she said, satisfied that he meant it. It was now her goal to try as hard as possible to get him to break his word. She took a couple of deep breaths. “All right Paul, I want you to start thrusting inside me. Fuck me, Paul. I want you to.”

“All right!” said Paul excitedly.

“Good grief, Paul!” exclaimed Emily anxiously. “Don’t actually...”

“Oh, I won’t,” he said quickly. “I thought it would be okay if I said I was going to, though.”

“Oh!” she said, momentarily confused. “Um ... wow, okay. I guess that might be fun. All right then. Fuck me, Paul – I mean it!”

“Yes!” said Paul. “I’ll do it! I’m going to fuck your brains out!”

“Good!” said Emily eagerly. “Do it now, Paul. I want to feel you sliding in and out of me.”

“Okay!” said Paul. “But I’m not wearing a condom, Emily. What if I cum inside you?”

“I don’t care!” Emily gasped, grinding her clitoris against him. “I’m too excited to care! Just fuck me until you cum. It doesn’t matter if you cum inside me. In fact I want you to! I want to feel your cum gushing into me! Fill me with your seed, Paul!”

“I will!” he said. “I’ll make a baby inside you, Emily! It’ll be our baby!”

Emily pulled his head down against her, and crooned into his ear, “Oh yes! Do it, Paul! Give me a baby! Make me pregnant with your lovely sperm.”

Paul groaned. “Yes – I will – I’ll make you pregnant.” Still his cock, rock hard inside her, had not moved.

Emily giggled. “That was awesome. Thank you Paul.”

Paul chuckled. “You’re welcome.”

Emily sighed. “Oh my goodness, I’m aroused beyond words. Feeling you inside me is just the best feeling, you know. In fact...”

“What?” he inquired.

“Paul, I’ve changed my mind,” said Emily earnestly. “Forget the game. I want you to really do it. Let’s just get it over with. Don’t worry about Nathan. Just start fucking me. Take my virginity. I want you to, seriously.”

“For real?” he asked in astonishment, lifting his head to look down at her face.

“Yes!” she said. “I can’t stand it, being so close and not quite getting there! Please just do it, Paul. A couple of thrusts, and that’ll be it – I won’t be a virgin anymore. And then there won’t be any point in worrying about it anymore; you can just go ahead and fuck me as much as you want.”

“I feel like you’re just saying this because you’re super horny right now,” said Paul slowly. “When you calm down a bit, you’ll change your mind back – but then it’ll be too late.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Emily assured him. “Please, Paul. I know you want to – just go ahead. Start fucking me, good and hard. I won’t hold it against you. Even if you get me pregnant. Of course, if you get me pregnant I’ll obviously have to leave Nathan ... and marry you. Wouldn’t you like to knock me up, Paul, so that I’ll have to marry you?”

“Oh!” gasped Paul, aghast. “I ... I shouldn’t. I mean, I want to marry you more than anything in the world, Emily! But I worry that you’ll always hold it against me that I got you pregnant when you were engaged to Nathan...”

“I won’t,” said Emily. “I’ll be happy and honoured to marry you, Paul. I’ll be your wife, and you can fuck me whenever you want. You can make as many babies in my belly as you want. I’ll always be naked around the house, and anytime you ask me to bend over so you can fuck me, I’ll do it. I’ll be your willing and obedient sex slave. But if you don’t fuck me now, then I’ll end up marrying Nathan, and you won’t get to make any babies in me. So it has to happen now, Paul! Do it! Fuck me! Just one hard thrust, and I’m yours forever!”

“Oh my God!” gasped Paul, aghast. He still had not moved. But then he saw Emily smile, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “That was a test, wasn’t it?”

She giggled. “Yes, and you totally passed,” she said. “I was actually almost ... almost, but not quite ... hoping you would fail. But that would have been disastrous, of course.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, though he did not sound convinced. “You made a pretty good case for it though.”

She kissed his cheek. “I know. But that was the game. Real life wouldn’t be like that.”

“I guess not,” he said with a sad sigh.

“I know you want more from me,” she said gently, “but if you can accept the way things are, then you can continue kissing me and fondling me and sticking your cock in me ... for a while, at least. Can you live with that?”

“Of course!” he said. “It’s more than I could ever have hoped for. More than I deserve. Oh Emily, I love you so much...”

She hesitated. “If I tell you I love you too, can you accept that I don’t mean it the same way you do? That I love you like a brother ... actually perhaps that’s not a great idea ... as a super-close friend ... a very intimate friend, obviously! Can you hear that from me, and not lose yourself in dreams of marital bliss with me?”

Paul nodded. “Yes, I’m sure I can. I know the score, Emily. I’m just totally grateful to have what I have. I’m not going to assume any more than that.”

“All right then,” said Emily. “Tell me again that you love me.”

“I love you, Emily,” he said sincerely.

“I love you too, Paul,” she said. “Now, do you think you can manage to rub me to an orgasm while you’re still inside me?”

“I can give it a go!” he said cheerfully.

Emily was a little worried to see tears in his eyes, but she decided not to comment. Instead, she closed her eyes and smiled as she felt him begin to rhythmically rub her clitoris. Four minutes later, she was shuddering and moaning in a delicious orgasm. “Thank you!” she gasped. “Now, shall I suck your cock...?”

“Yes please!” said Paul.

He did not last long. After Emily had sucked the last drop of semen out of his wilting cock, he sighed happily. “Shall we get dressed for our run?” he suggested. “Or speed-walk...?”

Emily nodded as she climbed off the bed. “Let me just go brush my teeth first. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Okay,” said Paul. “I’ll need to do that too of course. I’ll get dressed first though.”

He left the room, rather cautiously, and returned to his own bedroom, while Emily headed to the bathroom. She felt quite desperate to empty her bowels, and this put her in a bit of a quandary. Perhaps she could hold it in until after she and Paul got back ... but what if she could not? Paul had shrugged off one accident; what would he think if he witnessed another?

Ultimately, the prospect of having another amazing accident in her panties outweighed all rational considerations, and she held in her poo while she peed. Then she brushed her teeth, returned to her room, braided her hair, and put on a clean pair of white panties. As she picked up her newly shortened tank top, she almost ditched it in favour of her sports bra ... but she could not help putting it on and appraising herself in front of the mirror once more. She shivered. This was such a crazy outfit! The thought of going outside like this...

...was irresistible. Putting on her shoes, she left her bedroom and trotted downstairs before she could talk herself out of it. Paul was already there, waiting for her. “You look just ... amazing!” he said appreciatively.

She smiled. “Thank you Paul,” she said.

“I guess we’re speed-walking then!” he remarked.

“Yes,” agreed Emily. “I can’t run in this top.”

“I know.” They left the house, closing the door behind them. “I figure we’ll just walk at a regular pace to the start of the trail,” said Paul, “then speed-walk from there.”

“Sounds good,” said Emily, feeling rather nervous. “I don’t know why, but I’m feeling even more anxious about this than I did yesterday. I feel so naked!”

“You were way more naked just a few minutes ago,” Paul remarked.

“I wasn’t outside then,” Emily pointed out.

“True,” Paul acknowledged. “Do you want to go back inside and change?”

“No,” said Emily, after just a moment’s hesitation. “Let’s go; I’m fine.”

They set off down the road, which fortunately remained relatively quiet. One car drove past them, but Emily contrived to keep Paul between herself and it as it passed by. As she walked m, Emily was very conscious of her breasts bouncing around beneath her skimpy cut-off tank top, but her fears that the garment might ride up over her breasts, exposing them, proved unfounded. When they reached the trail, Emily stepped between the two posts that marked its starting point, but Paul, his expression playful, paused on the sidewalk.

Emily turned back. “You coming?”

“It occurs to me,” said Paul, “that there’s not much point in you dressing so sexily, if nobody sees you like that.”

Emily blushed. “What do you mean? You’re seeing me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I get to see you naked every day,” he replied. “The idea of your coming outside in your panties is surely for other people to see you.”

“I don’t know, Paul,” said Emily nervously. “I think the thrill is in the risk of that happening, sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m prepared to maximise that risk. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to wander through crowded streets like this.”

“No, but there’s surely a happy medium,” said Paul. “How about we walk down to the gas station and back?”

Emily clasped her hands together nervously. “Past the Dunkin Donuts? I don’t know, Paul, that place always looks busy...”

“It won’t be too bad at this time in the morning,” said Paul. “Come on. If someone takes too unhealthy an interest in you, we’ll just make a run for it.”

“Easy for you to say!” said Emily. “I told you I can’t run without a sports bra.”

“Hmm, good point,” Paul conceded, looking disappointed. “Couldn’t you ... I dunno ... hold your boobs with your hands while you run? It’ll only be for a short distance.”

Emily sighed. “I suppose I can,” she said, “if I have to. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“So you’ll do it?” asked Paul excitedly.

Emily nodded.

“Awesome!” said Paul. “Maybe I’ll buy you a doughnut as a reward.”

Emily pouted. “That would rather negate the point of our exercise!”

“Not at all,” said Paul. “You’ve got to eat, yes? Exercising will still make you fit, burn fat, build muscle and so on. It’s not just about the calories. Besides, you deserve to have a treat once in a while. We don’t have to get you a doughnut every day.”

Emily shrugged, and nodded. “I guess I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “But do you have any money?”

“Got my card in my pocket,” said Paul. “Oh! I totally forgot to tell you. I got a summer job!”

“No way!” said Emily. “That’s great! What is it?”

“It’s a thing where you work during the summer vacation to earn money,” Paul replied.

She swatted his arm. “You silly boy,” she said. “I meant what’s the job?”

He chuckled. “Let’s walk and talk.” As they set off in the direction of the gas station, he went on, “I’ll be working for Mom’s cousin Buford; he runs a dollar store in Barton. I’ll be a cashier. I actually did the job for a few days last summer, but then I ... well, I quit. It was super boring! But Dad’s been giving me a hard time about getting a job, so back I go – starting tomorrow.”

“What are your hours?” Emily asked. “Will we still get to run together? Or speed-walk...?”

“Yeah, I don’t start until ten,” said Paul. “Buford isn’t an early riser. There’s a bus to Barton that leaves at nine-forty, so I’ll still have plenty of time in the mornings.”

“What time do you finish?” asked Emily.

“Four o’clock,” said Paul. “Six-hour day. Kinda sucks. Worst part is, I have to work Saturdays!”

“Awww,” said Emily sympathetically. “Perhaps I could come and visit you there on Saturday.”

“That would be awesome!” said Paul, brightening. “In ... in a skimpy outfit...?”

Emily smirked. “At this point I think that’s a given. Your mom will no doubt be turning the rest of my modest clothes into skimpy clothes today. I don’t know why she’s enjoying it so much. At first I thought she wanted me to dress skimpily for your sake, but now I’m not certain that’s the whole story.”

Paul’s brow furrowed. “You think ... she ... likes girls?” He snorted. “Mom isn’t a lesbian, Emily.”

“No! I wasn’t suggesting that,” said Emily hurriedly, her cheeks turning crimson. “I just said I didn’t think it was all about you. I ... I don’t have an alternate explanation to offer.”

“Oh,” said Paul. “So why do you think it’s not just for my benefit?”

Emily shrugged. “Little things. Like, she encouraged me to wear a see-through top and a tiny skirt to Billy’s house – that clearly wasn’t about you. And let’s face it, I’m wearing nothing at all at home now ... so why should she still be keen on shortening my outfits? You generally won’t get to see them.”

“Hmm,” said Paul. “Well I guess I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”

Emily shivered. “What would I say? I’m not sure how to bring the subject up without seeming ... I don’t know ... accusatory?”

“Well it’s up to you,” said Paul. “But I’m pretty certain it’s not because she’s into you!”

Emily nodded. “No, I’m sure you’re right.”

As they followed Hubert Road around a curve to the left, they came in sight of its junction with Tomelty Road, a far busier thoroughfare on which cars raced by every few seconds. There were traffic lights here, and a pedestrian crossing on Tomelty Road, to the right of the lights. As they approached the crossroads, Emily eyed the passing cars nervously. “Paul, it’s too busy. I don’t think I can do this,” she said. Already she was seeing some of the cars rapidly slowing as astonished drivers stomped on the brake pedal.

“I’m sure it must be scary,” Paul acknowledged sympathetically. “Perhaps we should set a less ambitious goal for you. Let’s not commit to crossing the road. Can you at least walk up to the start of the crosswalk?”

“I guess so,” said Emily. “I don’t want you to be disappointed...”

“I won’t be,” Paul assured her. “If I can get a nice photo of you standing by the road, with cars passing behind you, I’ll be more than happy. Think we can manage that?”

“Sure,” said Emily, though the thought was making her sweat. The pressure in her bowels was getting quite intense, too, which filled her with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

As they approached the crossroads, the lights changed, triggered by a car that had been sitting on the far side of the junction, waiting to turn left on to Tomelty. As several cars from both directions slowed to a halt, a driver on the left-hand side of the junction lowered his passenger window, and leaned over as far as he could to get a better look at Emily. “Hey honey, that’s a nice outfit!” He was in his late twenties, with Hispanic features.

“Thank you, these are my running clothes,” said Emily quickly; she hoped that he might conclude that her panties were running briefs and not, in fact, panties.

Whether he did or not was impossible to tell. “Well you look super sexy!” he replied. “Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy.” He nodded at Paul.

Emily was about to correct his misperception, but then she hesitated, not wanting to hurt Paul’s feelings ... and in that moment, Paul himself spoke up: “Thanks! I really am.” Then he pulled out his phone. “Hey Emily, why don’t you go and stand next to that guy? I’ll get a nice photo of you. Quick, before the lights change.”

“Oh goodness!” said Emily nervously. But the idea was quite exciting, so she hurried over to stand beside the driver’s open window, just as the lights changed to green.

“Smile, both of you!” said Paul. He took a photo, in which Emily was smiling at Paul, and the driver was grinning at Emily’s panty-clad bottom, which was barely three feet from his face.

Vehicles behind the Hispanic man’s car began honking their horns. “Gotta go!” he apologised, and he stepped on the gas, his car lurching forward. Before Emily had had a chance to return to Paul’s side, the next car drove past, its female driver glaring at Emily through her windshield, then through her passenger window, then through the rear door window on the passenger side, and finally through her back window. At this point she was beginning to drift into the path of the oncoming traffic, and she hastily corrected her course as she eventually looked forwards again.

“Smile again, Emily?” said Paul, and he took another photo as Emily posed with a rather worried smile, the cars behind her showing up as mere blurs in the resulting image.

“Now turn and wave to the drivers as they pass,” Paul encouraged her.

“Paul!” she said anxiously, “I don’t want to get into trouble. What if a police car comes past?”

“What if it does?” said Paul. “You’re not breaking any laws.”

“Are you sure?” asked Emily, as brakes squealed behind her. “It feels like I might be a dangerous distraction here!”

“Well perhaps you are,” Paul admitted. “But that’s not because you’re doing anything wrong. Drivers should be paying attention to the road, no matter what else is going on.”

“I’m sure that’s true in theory,” said Emily, “but it’ll be hard not to feel responsible if someone crashes because they were looking at me.”

“Okay, okay,” Paul conceded. “I’m sure you don’t want that to happen. How about one more photo, then we’ll head back.”

“All right – one more!” said Emily.

“Smile...” said Paul. Then he lowered his phone. ”Wait, I just had a thought.” He hurried over to the traffic light, and hit the button to activate the pedestrian crossing. “This’ll stop the traffic again in a moment. When the ‘walk’ sign lights up, can you walk out across the crosswalk? Then turn around at the far side and come back. You’ll have time.”

“Paul!” gasped Emily.

“Please, it’ll be an awesome photo!” Paul begged her. “We’ll send it to Nathan – think how thrilled he’ll be! Look, I’ve got my phone at the ready – all you’ll need to do is walk across, turn, smile and pose, then walk back. Simple. Then we’ll head back.”

It would have taken just one more squeal of brakes to unnerve Emily sufficiently for her to flatly refuse Paul’s request. But a curious thing had happened: so many drivers had slowed down to rubberneck at Emily that the traffic had become backlogged in both directions. Within a hundred yards of the junction, the cars were moving slowly enough that an accident was now fairly unlikely, with drivers further back having plenty of notice to slow down for the congestion ahead of them.

“All right, but you’re going to owe me!” said Emily sternly.

“I’ll do anything you want me to,” said Paul with a shrug. “You know that, right?”

She smiled at him. “Awww Paul,” she said. But she did not get a chance to continue, for at that moment the traffic finally came to a halt at the lights.

“Now’s your chance!” said Paul. “Go!”

Emily turned, then hurried across the road at a trot, her breasts bouncing fetchingly beneath her tiny top. Surprisingly she heard no horns honking; perhaps the drivers were too busy watching her. She dared to steal a glance at a car to her right as she neared the far side of the road; its driver was a middle-aged man, and a young man of about her own age was sitting in the passenger seat. Both men were staring at her with delighted, somewhat awed expressions.

Having reached the sidewalk at the far side, Emily turned and smiled, with her hand on one hip and one knee bent slightly.

“Love it!” Paul shouted.

“Hey!” said the young man in the passenger seat of the car nearest her, having lowered his window. “You’re beautiful! Can I have your number?”

Emily turned toward him in surprise. “I’m ... I’m engaged, sorry,” she said, with an apologetic smile.

“What a shame!” he said. “Would it be okay if I take a photo of you anyway? I doubt I’ll ever get to see such a lovely sight again if I live to be a hundred!”

“Awww, that’s sweet,” said Emily, “but I have to get back across...”

“Please?” he persisted. “I might never see you again!”

Emily relented. He looked like a nice boy; slightly awkward, but with an appealing earnestness about his face. “All right, just a quick one,” she said, taking a couple of steps down the sidewalk so that she was more level with his window. She could now better see the older man; she guessed him to be the father. “Hi,” she said.

“You have an exceptional figure!” he remarked with a grin. “How lucky for the world that you’re happy to show it off!”

Emily blushed. “Thank you!” she said. Then, as the younger man held up his phone, she posed bashfully, with her hands clasped behind her and one leg crossed in front of the other.

“Gorgeous!” said the young lad.

“Oh! Gotta go – nice meeting you!” said the older man.

Paul arrived at Emily’s side, a little breathless. “Missed your chance to get back!” he said.

“It’s okay,” said Emily, waving to the two men as they drove off. “I’ll survive until the lights change again, I’m sure.”

“Or we could go grab a doughnut,” Paul suggested impishly. “C’mon; it’ll be fun.”

Emily bit her lip. “Okay. Just keep me safe, please?”

“I will,” he assured her.

Emily’s heart was beating rapidly as she walked next to Paul down the sidewalk while passing drivers uttered muffled shouts or honked their horns in appreciation. At least, she hoped it was appreciation. Some of the shouts were obviously exclamations of delight; others might possibly have been hostile. And with the honks, it was very hard to tell without looking at the expressions of the drivers ... and Emily was feeling much too anxious to risk meeting anybody’s eye. Her biggest fear was that a police car would stop next to them, its lights flashing. The walk to Dunkin Donuts seemed to take forever.

But then, “We made it!” said Paul cheerfully, as they walked into the little parking lot next to the small brick-built establishment. “Let’s go inside. Hopefully whoever’s behind the counter is a straight guy. Or a gay woman, I guess.”

Emily shivered. She did not really care what gender or sexual orientation they were, as long as they were nice to her. Her biggest fear was that they would call her out, ridicule her, shout at her to get out, or perhaps even call the police on her. Despite recognising that she had a bit of a naughty streak, she saw herself as a good girl at heart, and she hated to get into trouble.

Fortunately the bearded, jovial, rather chubby young man behind the counter did not seem inclined to give Emily a hard time. He did say “Whoa!” as they entered, but then he recovered himself and gave them a big smile. “What can I get for you folks?”

His colleague, a short, mousy-looking woman with ears that stuck out like little satellite dishes, stared at Emily’s panties with an open mouth. Then, after a worried glance up at the bearded man, she hurriedly returned to what she was doing.

“I’ll have a chocolate frosted donut please,” said Paul. “How about you, Emily?”

“Um,” said Emily, blushing as she quickly reviewed the options. “Strawberry frosted, please.”

“You got it,” said the bearded man. “Anything else? Something to drink?”

“I’m good,” said Paul. “Emily?”

Emily shook her head.

“That’ll be two seventy-eight,” said the man.

Paul inserted his card into the machine, and a moment later, the man handed him a receipt. “Enjoy!” he said.

“Come on, let’s sit by the window,” said Paul, taking the bag containing their donuts. He fetched a couple of napkins, and headed to the bar on the other side of the room, which ran the length of the front window. He sat down on a tall stool, and Emily took the one next to it.

“Isn’t this fun?” he remarked to Emily playfully.

“It’s nerve-wracking!” said Emily ruefully. “But I guess it’s also kind of exciting....”

A trio of teenaged girls came in, and Emily tensed up in anticipation.

“Relax,” Paul murmured. “You can’t affect what they do or say when they notice you; you can only affect what you do about it. I suggest you just ignore them. If they start giving you a hard time, don’t worry, I’ll do the talking.”

This was a sweet offer, but as socially awkward as Paul was, Emily could not imagine him dealing very successfully with one mean girl, let alone three. It might be best, in fact, if Paul stayed quiet and let Emily do the talking.

When one of the girls noticed Emily, while the others were ordering coffee, she giggled and nudged her friends, who also began giggling and whispering as they stared at Emily’s panties and large areas of exposed skin. When Paul turned his head to look at them, they quickly turned away, but the giggling and whispering continued.

“I think they’re harmless,” Emily said in a low voice. “They’re just amused.”

Paul nodded. Then he grinned. “This is quite an adventure, isn’t it? Can you believe you’re sitting and eating in Dunkin Donuts, in nothing but a skimpy little top and panties, and shoes of course?”

Emily shivered again. “I know – it’s crazy!”

“But exciting?” asked Paul hopefully.

“Yes,” she admitted. “Scary, but exciting. I’m ... I guess I’m a little aroused.”

Paul chuckled. “Maybe tomorrow we can go to the grocery store. Or the mall!”

“Like this?” Emily gasped. “Paul, I’d die of embarrassment!”

“It would be exciting, though, wouldn’t it?” he pressed her. “I mean, could you have imagined, just a few days ago, that you’d be sitting in Dunkin Donuts in such a skimpy outfit?”

“No, of course not,” Emily muttered. “I can scarcely imagine it now! It doesn’t seem real. I feel like if I pinch myself, I’ll wake up.”

Paul took a bite of his doughnut, and chewed it thoughtfully for a moment. “Suppose you did,” he said. “Would you wake up at home, across the landing from me, the morning after one of our exciting goodnight kisses? Or would you wake up back in Oakwood, with a long Robertine dress on a clothes hanger, ready to cover you up for the day?”

Emily shuddered. “Sometimes I do wish I were back in Oakwood,” she said. “I’ve got myself into super bad trouble at work, and I’m afraid of what’s going to happen with that. But mostly ... I’m really enjoying my new life. I feel free here. Every day is a new exciting adventure. Honestly, I’d much rather be here with you in this Dunkin Donuts, dressed like this, than back in Oakwood, wrapped in a stifling blanket of safety and modesty.”

Paul nodded. Then he smiled. “Me too,” he said. “My life has been totally transformed since you came to stay with us. I know it won’t last forever, but while it does ... every day is magical. I’ve never known true happiness until now.”

“Awww,” said Emily with a sympathetic smile. “I’m happy that I’ve made you happy. But it works both ways; you’re a large part of why I’m enjoying my new life here.” She took his hand in hers, and squeezed it.

He returned the squeeze. “Once you’re married,” he said, “and living with Nathan ... do you think he’ll want you to stop kissing other men? And just be completely exclusive to him?”

She sighed. “I’ve wondered the same thing,” she said. “If it’s something that excites him, like a fetish ... I’m not sure it’s likely that it’ll just go away once we’re married. It might even ... escalate...”

“How do you mean?” Paul asked.

“Well, once we’re married, we’ll be having sex regularly,” said Emily. “It occurs to me that he might, at that point, get excited about the idea of me having sex with other men...”

Paul grinned. “So maybe I could come over to your place sometime and ... we could have sex?”

Emily shivered. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe. But Paul, you shouldn’t have to make do with what little time I’ll be able to spare you. I want you to have a girl of your own. Someone who’ll be devoted to you and want to spend all her time with you.”

“Like you do with Nathan?” asked Paul sardonically.

Emily blushed. “It’s difficult for us right now,” she said. “Things will get better. The point is, you deserve more than I can give you.”

Paul shrugged. “I’ll take ten minutes a day with you over twenty-four hours a day with any other woman,” he said. “How can anyone else live up to you? You’re ... you’re a goddess, Emily.”

“Oh hush,” she said, blushing crimson. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

He chuckled. “Just telling you how I feel,” he said. He sighed. “I can’t get out of my head the memory of you begging me to fuck you, to get you pregnant, to thrust inside you just once so that you would be mine forever... That was a heck of a test, Emily. You don’t know how close I came to failing it.”

Emily shivered. “I can imagine,” she said. “That’s what made it so exciting. Knowing that my fate lay entirely in your hands, and that you might start thrusting inside me at any moment ... it was scary, but glorious.”

Paul smiled. “Can we do the same thing again this evening?”

Emily hesitated, then nodded. “This morning you earned a lot of trust,” she said. “You did really well. It makes me want you inside me all the more. So yes, I hope we get to do it lots and lots of times.”

Paul beamed happily. “Okay!” he said. “You ready to head back?”

“Sure,” she replied. The pressure in her bowels was becoming more and more intense, but she was hoping to get back to Harry’s house before she lost control. If she had to use the restroom here, it would be a little disappointing.

They left the building, and retraced their steps back to the junction, accompanied by the music made by excited drivers. But as they approached the crosswalk, Emily winced and clutched her abdomen. “Oh no no no!” she gasped. “Worst timing ever!”

“What’s wrong?” asked Paul anxiously.

“Just hit the button!” she said. “I’m pooping.”

“Oh my goodness!” said Paul, appalled. “Again?” He hurriedly hit the button on the side of the traffic light pole. “That’s twice in two days! Emily, you gotta quit eating that cereal!”

“Ugh!” groaned Emily, fighting helplessly against the inexorable flow of poo out of her rectum. Her panties were filling up, beginning to sag under the weight of her excrement. “I know, I just... Can you shield me please?”

Paul did his best, and while they stood waiting for the lights to change, they were able to effectively conceal the growing bulge in Emily’s panties from the eyes of passing drivers. In a hurry to finish her poo before it was time to cross the road, Emily began actively pushing it out, forcibly discharging the entire contents of her bowels into her increasingly overstretched underwear.

The lights changed, and the traffic quickly slowed to a halt. Emily squeezed out the last few inches of poo, then clenched her anus shut. “Come on, let’s go,” she said urgently, taking Paul’s hand.

He gripped it. “Okay, let’s make a run for it.” And he launched himself across the crosswalk.

“Oh heck!” gasped Emily as she tried to keep up, her unfettered breasts bouncing wildly in front of her, and the enormous bulge in her panties bouncing behind. Since Paul had a hold of her left hand, she could not control both her breasts and her panties, but since the latter were in danger of slipping down, she opted to grab hold of the side of the waistband in order to keep them up. Her breasts therefore flailed so much that with each bounce they became more and more exposed, as her skimpy top gradually rode up on top of them. By the time they reached the far side of the road, the front of her top was sitting high atop her breasts, which were more or less completely out in the open.

The drivers in the front of the lines of traffic on either side of the lights – an elderly couple on the left, and a middle-aged man in a white company van (bearing the logo of a local building contractor) on the right – stared incredulously at Emily’s naked bouncing breasts and bulging bouncing panties, of which they had a perfect, unobstructed view. The views of the drivers behind them were less good, but people in vehicles seventh or eighth in line still got a good glimpse of the young woman running across the road with a lump of poo the size of a small melon bouncing against her buttocks, precariously kept in place by a flimsy pair of white panties ... though that mesmerizing sight had to compete for their attention with the large breasts jostling their way out of her ridiculously tiny top.

No horns sounded. Everyone was apparently too astonished to register either approval or disapproval, until the fleeing couple were far down Hubert Road.

“Stop!” gasped Emily, finally wrenching her hand free of Paul’s, and using it to tug her top back down as she slowed to a walk. “Oh my goodness, Paul, my breasts came out!”

“Oh!” said Paul. “Bummer. Well nobody gave us a hard time, at least. Maybe the sight of your boobs distracted them from what was going on in your panties. Speaking of which, how bad is it?”

Emily hesitated, then turned around to show him.

“Jeez!” he exclaimed. “That’s even bigger than yesterday!”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Paul,” she reprimanded him. “But yes, I know it’s a lot.” Now able to use both hands, she tugged the waistband of her panties up at both sides, causing her huge lump of poo to press gently between her buttocks.

“Ugh, nightmare,” said Paul. “Well let’s keep moving. I’m sure you want to empty out those panties and get yourself cleaned up as soon as possible.”

“Well ... yeah...” Emily replied.

“I guess you’ll have to switch to another cereal,” said Paul. “Crazy the effect it’s had on you. You should complain to the manufacturer!”

“Hmm, maybe,” said Emily. Then she sighed. “Paul ... listen ... I kind of have a confession to make.”

“Oh?” asked Paul. “What’s that?”

She half expected him to have guessed already, but apparently he had not yet put two and two together. “I...” she said, a little nervously, “I actually ... enjoy ... pooping in my panties.” She finished the sentence at a rush. She was not particularly afraid of him judging her harshly for her fetish, nor that he would run to his parents with the news. She knew he was in love with her, and would be unlikely to do anything to jeopardise her good opinion of him. What made her nervous was how the knowledge would affect his opinion of her. The high esteem in which he held her was sweet, and gratifying ... would it forever be tainted by the discovery that she had such a disgusting hobby?

“Oh!” said Paul, shocked. “Wow! Um ... okay ... that’s ... pretty weird...” But then he shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, I guess. Personally I’m not into that, but if you are, then ... you do you.”

“Thanks Paul,” said Emily in relief. “I was afraid you’d be ... grossed out.”

He chuckled. “I kind of am,” he said. “Well, a bit. I don’t mind if you like ... doing that ... as long as I don’t have to, you know, touch it or anything. And I’d rather stand upwind of you, if that’s okay.”

“That’s totally okay!” she said. “I’m not asking you to be involved in it. I just wanted you to understand why ... I probably won’t be giving up my new cereal...”

Paul laughed. “Ah, I see,” he said. “But doesn’t the thought of having an accident out in public ... scare you?”

“Yes!” she said. “That was terrifying, Paul. I admit I do like a certain level of risk, and doing it outside is wonderfully naughty … but that was way too intense.”

Paul nodded. “Understandable,” he said. Then he chuckled. “Still … just the pooping itself … crazy! You’re ... you’re not who I thought you were.”

“I don’t think I’m who I thought I was,” said Emily, he cheeks reddening. “I hope ... that’s not a bad thing...?”

“No, not at all!” said Paul. “I can’t say I’m on board with the poop thing, but it certainly makes you a more interesting and surprising person.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully. “I was hoping you would be supportive, even if you didn’t particularly like the idea.”

Paul smiled. “Does this mean we don’t have to go home right away? We have a little time – shall we walk the trail?”

Emily shivered. “I don’t know, Paul – I feel like we’re running a lot of risks for one morning, and I’m not sure my nerves can take being seen again.”

“Awww come on, you know you want to,” he encouraged her. “After all, we were supposed to be exercising this morning, and what have we done? Eaten a doughnut. Gotta work off those calories somehow, right?”

Emily chuckled. “What I really want to do is sit down in this mess and rub myself to a nice orgasm,” she said with uncharacteristic candour. She was beginning to regard Paul as someone she could talk to about almost anything.

“That I would kinda like to see,” said Paul, with a little smirk. “From a distance, though, maybe.”

“Maybe sometime,” said Emily. “But I don’t want to ruin my panties while we’re a long way from home.” They reached the trailhead, and Emily stepped between the posts. “Well I guess I do need to work off that doughnut...”

Paul laughed excitedly. “Yay!” he said. “All right then.”

As they walked the trail, it suddenly occurred to Paul to ask, “Does Harry know about your fetish?”

Emily hesitated, then nodded. “That’s not all, though. I ... I should probably tell you ... Harry and I have been kind of ... doing stuff.”

Paul gasped. “You and Harry? Oh my God!”

“Language, Paul...”

“Sorry, but ... what the heck?”

“It seemed like something Nathan would approve of!” said Emily hurriedly. “I thought he would get a kick out of the idea.”

“And did he?” Paul inquired.

“Well, he doesn’t know yet...” Emily admitted wretchedly. “But I’m sure he will. I did tell him that Harry saw my breasts, and he really liked that...”

“Uh-huh,” said Paul. “So what exactly have you done with Harry?”

“Just ... some of the stuff you and I have been doing,” said Emily guardedly.

“Have you sucked his cock?”

Emily nodded. “Yes,” she said quietly.

“Wow,” said Paul. “Is it just me and Harry, then? Or are there others?”

Emily groaned, and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t want to give you a list, Paul, but yes – it’s not just you and Harry.”

“Wow,” said Paul in disbelief. “So ... what you’re saying is that you’re a slut.”

Emily looked up at him in shock. “No I’m not!” she protested. “Don’t say that!”

“Oh don’t get me wrong,” he continued hurriedly. “I’m not judging. I mean, heck, I’m benefiting from it, right?”

A man in his late thirties ran past, staring at Emily’s panties; he was so astonished when he saw them bulging hugely at the back that he tripped and almost fell, but managed to recover and went on his way with several more glances behind him.

“But ... I’m still a virgin!” Emily said plaintively. “How can I be a slut?”

Paul shrugged. “I don’t think being a slut is just about having sex,” he said, “but I guess it might be.” He smirked. “Want me to look it up in a few online dictionaries?”

“I want you to take it back!” said Emily, upset. “I don’t want you calling me a slut!”

“Fine,” he said, “I take it back. You’re not a slut. I’m sorry. I was just a little shocked by learning that you have lots of ... well, that you’ve been intimate with a lot of guys. I had been feeling ... I dunno ... kinda special, I guess, because of the stuff we were doing together. Now that I know I’m just one of many...”

“I’m sorry, Paul,” said Emily, calming down a little as her empathy kicked in, “I guess your mom’s right; I’m a bit of a pushover. The fact is, I ... I have to admit that I enjoy the attention ... and these adventures I’m having are so ... exciting! Every day stuff seems to happen that is beyond my control, but I end up having such a crazy, wonderful time. I hate to think that that makes me a slut in your eyes, though. I don’t see myself that way. I’m a good girl, I am.”

Paul chuckled. “I know,” he said. “Don’t you realise I think the world of you?”

“Not if you think I’m a slut!” said Emily. “Look, Paul ... you know I can’t be exclusive with you, or anything like that. I belong to Nathan. The second he says he’s not okay with us doing stuff together, it has to stop.”

“I know,” he sighed.

“But you ARE special, though,” she continued. “Who else gets to kiss me goodnight and fall asleep with me? And so far, you’re the only one who’s been ... you know ... completely inside me.”

Paul smiled. “Any chance we could keep it that way?” he asked hopefully.

Emily bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe. It’s kinda risky, so I really shouldn’t let anyone else stick it all the way in...” She sighed. “Oh, but it feels so good though!“ She smiled sheepishly at Paul. “Maybe we can do it again when we get home, and once I’m cleaned up. If there’s time.”

“I’d love to!” said Paul.

They continued their walk, passing two more runners on the way. Fortunately both were too concerned with maintaining their pace and achieving a good time to stop and ask Emily why she was outside in her underwear, and neither of them (one man, one woman) looked backward after having passed, so neither noticed Emily’s poo bulge.

As they returned to Hubert Road, Emily was feeling excited and happy. It really was extraordinary that she was out walking casually with Paul while her panties were full of poo, and she was struck by the realisation that she enjoyed having her panties out in the open like this. Yes, it was scary ... but at the same time it was deliciously erotic. Having them full of poo at the same time was rather terrifying ... but still exciting, as long as nothing bad happened.

One car passed them, approaching from behind, and although Paul moved clumsily to shield Emily, the driver did manage to catch sight of the bulge. He stared in astonishment and slowed down a bit, but did not honk his horn. After another minute, they reached Harry’s house. “I’m going to clean up here,” said Emily. “Can you cover for me?”

“Sure, I’ll just say you stopped to chat with him,” said Paul, looking a little grumpy. “Just ... please don’t let him put his cock in you?”

“Paul!” said Emily sternly. “If anyone’s going to set rules on my interactions with other men, it’ll be Nathan, not you. You’re not my fiancé, or my boyfriend.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, chastened. “Have fun then, I guess.” His shoulders slightly hunched, he trudged off back to his own house.

Emily sighed as she watched him go. She was not unsympathetic to his possessiveness, but she could not afford to let it fester and grow. Paul needed to remember that she was not his. If he lost sight of that, she would need to move out of the Davises’ house.

She walked up to Harry’s front door, rang his bell, and waited. There was no response. She rang the bell again. Harry’s car was still in his driveway, but it occurred to her that Frosty, if he were inside, would probably be barking right now. She bit her lip anxiously. Harry had no doubt taken his dog out for a walk. He might be back in two minutes, of course, but it could just as easily be half an hour. “Ugh!” she muttered. “What am I to do now?”

She would have to bite the bullet and enter the Davises’ house like this, of course. Perhaps she could sneak in through the front door and dash up the stairs. But what if Paul had forgotten to unlock it for her? They had not discussed it today, and Paul was probably grouchy and distracted from thinking about what she might be doing with Harry. Trotting down the path to Harry’s gate, she hurried along the sidewalk and then crossed the stretch of grass in front of the Davises’ house, cautiously approaching their front door.

It was locked. With a sigh of relief, she cautiously pushed it open, and stepped inside.

“Good morning dear!” said Mary cheerfully, emerging front the kitchen. “My goodness, is that what you’re wearing now for your morning outings with Paul?”

Emily gulped, panic welling up inside her. “I’m ... I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I ... I just...”

“Oh Emily, don’t look so worried,” said Mary with a warm smile. “Do you really think I would give you a hard time about wearing an outfit like that? I already knew you were planning to wear that top; I just didn’t imagine you’d be wearing just panties on your bottom half! But if you’re brave enough to go out like that, I’m not going to object.”

“Okay then,” said Emily, relieved, but also anxious to get upstairs before Mary realised what was in the back of her panties. “I just ... I wasn’t sure...”

Mary approached her, still smiling. “Awww, well I can understand your concern,” she said. “It’s a very sexy outfit. I would be more worried if you were out there alone like that. But Paul was with you, and I’m sure he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Emily nodded. “I’m sure he wouldn’t. But I should really...” She pointed upstairs.

Mary sniffed the air. “Oh!” she said. She raised an eyebrow. “Another accident?”

Emily’s eyes widened. “A...another?”

Mary chuckled. “You’re not quite as discreet as you might think, dear,” she said. “Let me guess: normally Harry next door lets you clean up in his house, but today he wasn’t there? Is that about right?”

Her throat suddenly dry, Emily nodded. “How did you...”

“Well let’s see,” said Mary. “Damp panties on your bedroom floor, neighbours gossiping about you going into Harry’s house yesterday with suspiciously bulgy panties... I just put two and two together.”

“Oh dear!” said Emily, aghast. “Oh Mary, I’m so sorry – it’s the new cereal...”

Mary folded her arms. “Is that all it is?”

Sensing a trap, Emily hung her head in shame. “No,” she admitted. “Not exactly. The cereal does cause accidents ... but before that...”

“Before that you were doing it on purpose?” asked Mary.

Emily nodded wretchedly. “I ... I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted me to leave now,” she said morosely.

“Oh, don’t talk nonsense,” said Mary firmly. “And stop feeling sorry for yourself. I don’t recall any prohibitions in the Bible against panty-pooping, and we have none in this family either. I’d be grateful if you didn’t stink up the house, or get poop on any furniture, but otherwise, well, it’s harmless enough isn’t it? I mean, it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

Emily stared at her in astonishment. “You’re ... you’re okay with it?”

Mary smirked. “After all the conversations we’ve had,” she said, “you’re still surprised by this?”

“Well I know you and Jacob and very liberal and tolerant,” said Emily, “particularly for Robertines. But I guess I just ... I mean, don’t you have any limits at all?”

“Of course!” said Mary. “I draw the line at any behaviour that hurts other people.”

“That does seem like a good line to draw,” admitted Emily. “But it’s a little different from what I grew up with!”

Mary nodded. “Jacob too,” she said. “When I met him, he was rather more ... hardcore, let’s say ... than he is now. I on the other hand was a child of hippies, and very liberal in my beliefs.”

“So how on Earth did the two of you get together?” asked Emily in wonderment, forgetting her situation for a moment.

“We met at a rally,” said Mary. “We were both protesting against the Iraq War. Jacob had recently set up his church here, and he and some of his congregants joined the rally. He spotted me sitting on the roof of a car, and ... well, let’s say I wasn’t dressed in a very conservative way.” She winked. “We got chatting, and just really hit it off. We exchanged numbers, I promised to come to one of his services, and ... well, you don’t need the whole story.”

“I’d love to hear more, though!” said Emily eagerly. “But perhaps I should go and clean up. I’m so sorry – I’m totally stinking up your house, after you specifically asked me not to!”

Mary smiled. “Honestly it doesn’t smell all that bad,” she said. “But yes, go and clean up by all means...”

“Back from your run, Emily?” asked Jacob, coming down the stairs. “Goodness, is that what you were wearing?”

“Oh!” said Emily anxiously, taking a step backward to try to keep the back of her panties hidden from both Jacob and Mary.

“If you could let her past, dear,” said Mary, “she’s in a bit of a hurry to get upstairs.”

“Certainly,” said Jacob, reaching the foot of the stairs and standing to one side.

Emily looked stricken for a moment, then she hurried up the stairs, clutching the sides of her panties as her huge lump of poo bounced and slapped against her buttocks.

“Good heavens!” said Jacob, staring up after her. “I must say I didn’t expect that!”

“It seems she has a rather unusual hobby,” Mary remarked. “Please don’t give her a hard time about it.”

“That was on purpose?” asked Jacob, his eyes wide.

Mary nodded. “Or at least, if it was an accident, it was somewhat planned,” she said. “It’s been going on for a while. I suspected something like this was going on, and this morning confirmed it. But she’s not hurting anybody, so let her be.”

Jacob looked a little uneasy for a moment, but then he shrugged. “As long as she keeps it out of church, and away from any company we have, then I guess it’s her business.”

“That’s pretty much my position too,” Mary agreed.

Upstairs, Emily shut herself in the bathroom, and reluctantly pulled down her panties. But as she looked at the monstrous amount of poo contained therein, it occurred to her that she might have considerable difficulty in flushing it all away.

It would have to be broken up, and flushed piecemeal. With her panties stretched around her thighs, just above her knees, Emily reached down and grabbed hold of her poo with her right hand. Closing her fingers around a large chunk, she pulled it away from the main mass, shivering at the squishy texture. Then, slowly and deliberately, she pressed the chunk against her pussy, flattening it and moulding it around the contours of her vulva. “Ohhh yes,” she whispered. “You naughty girl...” She began rubbing. “You’re a dirty, naughty girl, aren’t you? Letting all sorts of men stick their penises inside you – so reckless! What if they started thrusting? You’d no longer be a virgin. And what if they came inside you, and you got pregnant? Everyone would know what a bad, naughty girl you are...”

After a few minutes of this, she shuddered and moaned into the crook of her left elbow as she reached a delicious climax. Then, panting as her arousal abated, she looked down at her body, and groaned a little. Her breasts and belly were caked and streaked with poo. Her pussy of course was also thickly coated, and there was still a large lump in her panties. This clean-up was going to be arduous and unpleasant.

But she was, by now, a seasoned veteran, and once she had flushed away most of the poo, she got herself clean with the help of the shower and lots of soap. Towelling herself dry, she was about to walk into her room to put some clothes on when she checked herself, remembering that she was no longer supposed to be wearing anything at all around the house.

Then it occurred to her what an odd thing this was to think. And to wonder what the reaction would be, from Mary and Jacob and Paul, if she went down to breakfast fully clothed. For some reason, she felt like she would get into trouble if she did. Which was ridiculous, surely. Or was it...? While the increasingly skimpy dress code for this house – which clearly applied only to her – had always been couched in voluntary terms, she did feel as if there had always been an expectation of compliance.

Slightly perturbed by this, she went into her bedroom, and put on a thong. Perhaps it would be best to test her hypothesis with a small rebellion ... if rebellion was the right term. Taking a deep breath, she left her room and walked down the stairs, then headed into the kitchen.

“Hello again, dear!” said Mary. “Sit yourself down.”

“Why are you wearing panties?” Paul inquired. “She doesn’t have to wear panties to breakfast, does she Mom?”

“No, indeed,” said Mary. “Feel free to take them off, Emily, if you like. Although perhaps you could sit on a napkin, for the sake of hygiene...”

“Am I ... am I allowed to keep my thong on instead?” asked Emily, a little timidly.

“Well of course you are!” said Mary. “You can wear whatever you like.”

“Really?” asked Emily. “I ... I wasn’t sure. I’ve been feeling a little like, you know, as my outfits have kind of ... shrunk ... I might not be allowed to go back to wearing more...”

“Awww,” said Mary, “no, of course that’s not the case. Why, have you been missing your old dresses?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” said Emily hastily. “I like wearing skimpy clothing. And I like being naked. It feels very ... liberating. I just ... the way things have been going, I wasn’t quite sure if I would be allowed to go back to wearing clothes, even if I wanted to. Perhaps I’m just being silly, but I was starting to feel like maybe there was now an unwritten rule that I have to be naked at all times while in your house.”

“Oh goodness me, no!” said Mary, with a little laugh,

Paul smirked. “I dunno, I kinda like the sound of that rule,” he said.

Emily chuckled. “Of course you do.”

“Well, would it be so bad?” asked Paul defensively. “You don’t have a problem with being naked around us, right?”

“No,” Emily admitted. “As strange as it sounds, I don’t.”

“And none of us have made you feel bad about your naked body, right?”

“Oh no, quite the reverse!” said Emily. “You’ve all been super nice about my body.”

“So where’s the harm in making it a rule?”

“Paul,” said Mary reproachfully, “isn’t it enough that Emily is willing to let you see her lovely body ... and even touch it? Why would you want to force her? Doesn’t it mean more if she does it willingly? Consent is a beautiful thing.”

“I’m not talking about forcing her,” said Paul awkwardly. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think she’d be okay with the idea. I just get the feeling that she likes ... on some level at least ... to be, uh, pressured into sexy situations. Like taking her clothes off, or letting guys kiss her or touch her.”

Emily’s cheeks were burning; there was more than a ring of truth to Paul’s words.

“You’re embarrassing her,” Mary chided her son.

“But she likes it!” Paul insisted. “I bet she’s getting horny right now...”

“Paul, that’s enough,” said Mary sharply. But she was looking at Emily thoughtfully. After a moment’s silence, she continued, “Emily, I’m sorry you’re feeling embarrassed, but for all Paul’s crassness, I can’t help wondering if he might be on to something. So let me ask you this: would it be accurate to say that you’re excited by the idea of us establishing a rule that requires you to be naked while you’re in this house? Would you, in fact, consent to abide by such a rule?”

Emily stared at her. This was a new and unexpected development. She swallowed nervously. The idea did not lack appeal ... but what if it got to be too much, and she changed her mind?

The kindness she saw in Mary’s eyes, however, allayed this fear. Mary would not allow her to suffer. “I ... if you wanted to make that a rule, I guess I wouldn’t mind,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’m getting used to it anyway.”

“All right then!” said Mary brightly. “That’s settled. Take off your thong, dear – you’re no longer allowed to wear it in the house.”

Emily gulped. What had been an interesting and rather exciting thought experiment had suddenly become very real. Was Mary really going to enforce this? Perhaps it might be best not to put that to the test. Wordlessly, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thong, and pulled it down. Stepping out of it, she hung it over the corner of one of the chairs.

“Good girl,” said Mary, then she went to retrieve a napkin from a drawer. “You can sit on this.”

Emily took it, laid it on her chair, and sat down. She glanced across the table and caught Paul’s eye; he was grinning triumphantly.

“Cereal, dear?” asked Mary, holding out the box of Branagram.

“Thank you,” said Emily in a small voice.

“I wonder what would happen if you ate a bowl of that stuff as a mid-evening snack as well as at breakfast time,” said Paul.

Emily shuddered. “I dread to think.”

“You’d probably have an accident at work,” Paul continued cheerfully. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Don’t tease the girl, Paul!” Mary scolded him.

“I’m not teasing!” Paul protested. “I’m just making a suggestion which I think she’d enjoy.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Paul,” said Emily. “I’m in big enough trouble at work already.”

“What is this trouble, anyway?” Mary inquired. “What can you possibly have done in your first two days?”

Emily sighed. “One of my colleagues called me from outside the building,” she said. “He asked me to bring him a bag from Blake’s office ... which I did. It never occurred to me that he had just been fired, and wanted me to bring him a bunch of company money so he could steal it...”

Both Paul and Mary gasped. “Seriously?” asked Paul.

Emily nodded. “Blake thinks I was working with Zack ... but I wasn’t! In order to prove my innocence I have to keep working there ... and my pay will all go towards replacing the stolen money.”

Mary gasped. “He can’t do that – that’s surely illegal!”

“But what can I do?” asked Emily helplessly. “If I go to the police, Blake will just have me charged with stealing from the company – and he has me on video, walking out with his bag.”

“That’s terrible!” said Paul, horrified.

“The man I went to see last night – Billy – is going to try to help me,” said Emily. “He thinks Blake is involved in something shady. If he can figure out what that is, he might be able to get me off the hook for the money. I don’t know – it seems like a long shot – but I’m pretty desperate...”

“Oh, I don’t like the sound of this at all!” said Mary in dismay. “How much money was it?”

“Eighty thousand dollars,” said Emily uncomfortably.

“Goodness, but you’ll have to work for years to pay that off!” said Mary. “How are you going to live in the meantime? Does this mean your marriage to Nathan is ... postponed?”

“I don’t know,” Emily groaned. “I haven’t told Nathan yet.”

“But wasn’t the whole idea to wait until you were financially secure?”

“Yes!” said Emily. “I know, I know – and the timing is just awful. Nathan has a job now; I should have just stayed at the coffee shop.” She sighed. “I just wanted to be a secretary!”

“Maybe Billy will come through,” suggested Paul.

“I hope so,” said Emily.

Jacob entered the kitchen. “Good morning, good morning!” he said.

“Emily owes her boss eighty thousand dollars,” Paul informed him. “And also, she’s not allowed to wear clothes in the house anymore.”

Jacob looked at Mary quizzically. “What on Earth did I miss?”

“Paul proposed the no-clothing rule,” said Mary. “Emily agreed to abide by it, and so I’ve implemented it.”

“But surely she should be allowed to wear what she wants?” said Jacob.

“And what she wants,” Mary replied firmly, “is to be held to a no-clothing rule. If you’re not happy with that, may I suggest we talk about it later, just between the two of us?”

Jacob nodded. “Certainly. And the eighty thousand dollars?”

“It sounds like her sweet and trusting nature was taken advantage of by an unscrupulous colleague,” said Mary. “Now her boss thinks she’s an accomplice, or at least he’s using that as a pretext to bully her.”

“That’s awful!” exclaimed Jacob. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“They’ll arrest me!” said Emily anxiously.

“Apparently there’s incriminating video footage of her,” Mary explained. “Even though she’s obviously innocent, it might take a while for the police to figure that out. In the meantime, she’s working on a possible way out of this mess with her colleague Billy, who thinks her boss is up to no good. Is that a fair summary, Emily?”

“Yes, that’s about it,” Emily agreed. “Oh but I can’t tell you what a relief it is that you all now know about it, and believe that I’m innocent. It’s all just so stressful! I really hope Billy finds something.”

“It all sounds very disturbing!” said Jacob. “I’m worried about what you’ve gotten yourself into, Emily, but I guess it’s up to you to figure it out. Just know that we’ll do what we can to help you, if you don’t get anywhere with Billy’s plan.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully.

After breakfast, she went upstairs with Paul. “Come in here,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into his bedroom. “I want to stick my cock in you again.”

“Paul...” she replied nervously ... but two minutes later she was underneath him, her thighs spread wide, her vagina fully engulfing his erection. “Mmmm,” she murmured. “So good...”

“I so badly want to thrust inside you,” he murmured in her ear.

“I want you to,” she whispered back. “I want you to fuck me, Paul. Make me yours. Take my virginity. Make a baby inside me.”

“Aaah, it’s taking all of my willpower to resist!” he gasped, his left hand squeezing her right breast as he supported his weight on his right elbow.

“So stop resisting,” she cooed. “I can’t stop you. Just take what you want. Fuck me...”

Paul gulped. This was it. This was the moment. He could hold back no longer. He was going to do it. One lift, one push, and it would be done. Tensing his buttock muscles, he...

“Actually, can I try being on top?” asked Emily.

“Uh, sure,” said Paul, his heart pounding. “Shall I pull out, or do you just want to, kind of, manoeuvre...?”

“Easiest if you pull out,” she said. “Besides, then we get to have the fun of putting it back in.” She giggled.

Paul grinned. “Okay.” Thank goodness he had not succumbed to temptation!

He climbed off her, then lay down on his back as she rolled over to make room. Then she climbed astride him, positioned his cock beneath her, and slowly lowered herself on to it. “Oh, lovely...” she purred. Once she was fully impaled upon him, she began undulating her pelvis, grinding her pussy against him. This soon turned into a rhythmic back-and-forth motion, as she rubbed her clit against his pubic bone.

“Oh that’s nice!” Paul gasped. “Are you sure this doesn’t count as ... thrusting? I seem to be going in and out a bit.”

Emily stopped. “I don’t think so,” she said, but her expression was troubled. “Oh Paul, I so badly want to have sex!” She sighed. “It can’t be with you, obviously. I guess I need to just tell Nathan the time has come. I’ll demand that we have sex. Today! I just can’t wait any longer.”

Paul nodded. “I think,” he said tentatively, “you’re right though – that wasn’t thrusting. You can go back to doing that.”

She shook her head. “No, we’re getting way too close to crossing the line,” she said. She climbed off him, his penis slipping out of her. “It’s almost time for me to get ready for work, anyway. I guess we have time for me to give you a blowjob, though, if you want.”

“Yes please!” said Paul.

Emily got on her knees next to his bed, and took his erection in her mouth. Immediately she tasted her own juices, and shivered slightly. This seemed very dirty, somehow. But she sucked, and sucked, and soon enough, Paul was groaning and spurting semen into her mouth. She swallowed it all, then she lifted her head; and smiled at him. “Feel better?”

“I feel amazing!” he said. “But now I should return the favour.”

“Okay!” she said happily. She lay down next to him, and he slid two fingers into her vagina. A couple of minutes later, she was bucking and moaning in her own intense orgasm.

Panting, she gave herself a minute or so to recover, then she got up. “I’d better get going.”

“Have a good day,” he said.

“You too!” she replied. “First day at your new job. I hope it goes well.”

“Thanks. Good luck with getting the better of your horrible boss.”

She sighed, and nodded. “Yes – thank you. Bye Paul.” She kissed him on the lips, then she walked to his door, opened it, and stepped out on to the landing.

Mary emerged from the master bedroom, looking apologetic. “I didn’t want to interrupt; you two sounded like you were having fun. But if you don’t want to be late for work, you should probably get moving.”

“Oh dear, how much did you hear?” asked Emily, embarrassed.

Mary gave her a kindly smile. “It doesn’t matter, dear, I’m just happy the two of you are getting along so well. Anyway, hurry up and get ready; I’ll see you downstairs.”

Emily went into her room, and glanced at her alarm clock. It was already 8:45, and she gulped; she had not realised it was this late. Still, she had time. She put on her office outfit, stuffed her pastel blue top and stretchy black skirt into her bag for band practice after work, and then went downstairs to where Mary was waiting for her by the front door.

“All right!” said Mary. “My, that really is quite the outfit, isn’t it? Okay, let’s go.”

They went outside, got into Mary’s car ... and then Mary groaned as she tried to start it. “Oh no, the battery’s flat!” she exclaimed in dismay. “I’m sure I didn’t leave the lights on ... no, they’re off. Oh dear – it’s actually been getting harder and harder to start the car in the mornings ... I should have taken it into the shop before now. Ugh – I’ll need to run next door and check if Harry has some jumper cables.” She opened her door.

“Will that take long?” asked Emily anxiously. “I don’t want to be late for work. Maybe I should just walk?”

“You’ll be late!” said Mary. “If Harry has jumper cables, we might just conceivably still get you to work on time. Wait here.” She got out, and trotted around the end of the fence and up Harry’s path to his front door.

Harry did have jumper cables, it turned out, but it seemed to take him forever to dig them out, position his car in front of Mary’s, open up both cars’ hoods, connect up the cables, get Mary’s car going, and then move his own car out of the way again. Emily was keeping tabs on the time by checking her phone; it was one minute to nine by the time they finally pulled out of the driveway.

“Sorry about this,” said Mary. “I do hope you won’t get into trouble.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Emily assured her, hoping it would be.

Unfortunately – at least according to Blake – it was not fine. “What time do you call this?” he demanded, as she hurried to her desk at 9:06. “I was waiting for you!”

“I’m so sorry, Blake,” said Emily sincerely. “My friend Mary gave me a ride here, but her car had a flat battery, and...”

“Do I look like I want to hear your lame excuses, Emily?” Blake snapped. “Perhaps it’s escaped your memory that you’re still under suspicion of stealing from the company, so I’m not likely to believe any bullshit story you come up with to explain your lateness. Come into my office please.”

Several people were staring at her. Mortified and chastened, Emily trotted after Blake; in his office, she closed the door behind her. As Blake sat down in his chair, she clasped her hands awkwardly in front of her tiny skirt.

“Now,” said Blake, “we have an important mission today, and I want you to accompany me. I think you might prove useful. But before we get into that, we need to get something else out of the way: the issue of your punishment for being late.”

“Punishment?” asked Emily, bemused. Her stomach began to cramp up in anxiety.

“Yes, punishment!” Blake scowled. “You didn’t think you could just walk in here five minutes late with no consequence, did you?”

“It was only five minutes,” said Emily plaintively. “Surely that’s not worth a punishment?”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Blake grimly. “The fact is, if it were anyone else, yes, I’d be inclined to just let it go with a reprimand. But in your case, it’s different. Your fate here hangs by a thread, girl, don’t you realize that? Several times a day I find myself second-guessing my decision to keep you on and give you a chance to prove yourself. Several times a day I almost pick up the phone and call the cops to tell them I’ve found Zack’s partner in crime. You’re on thin ice, Emily. And you choose to come in late?”

“I promise it won’t happen again,” she assured him, terrified at the thought of being arrested.

“Yes, well, the problem is that I’m not sure how much your promise is worth,” said Blake. “Some kind of punishment is necessary to reinforce the message. I can’t dock your wages, of course – everything you make is going into my pocket – uh, the company’s pocket – anyway. Hmm – quite a conundrum...”

“Maybe I could ... work late?” Emily suggested tentatively.

Blake snapped his fingers. “Got it,” he said. Then he grinned, in a way that made Emily very nervous, and rolled his chair out from behind his desk. His thick thighs and bulging belly were not quite enough to conceal the bulge in the front of his trousers. “I have the perfect punishment in mind.”

Emily gulped. She was fairly sure she knew what he had in mind. “Please, Blake,” she said, shaking her head.

“Come here,” he said peremptorily.

Emily took a step forward. “I have a fiancé,” she said uncomfortably.

He ignored her. “Lie across my lap,” he instructed her. “I’m going to give you a spanking.”

Emily gasped, her cheeks paling. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said.

“But ... you can’t do that, surely?” said Emily, shocked.

“To anyone else, no,” said Blake. “To you, certainly. Remember the waiver you signed?”

Emily whimpered. Was there any way out of this? “Do I have any choice?” she asked plaintively.

“Absolutely,” said Blake. “You can quit. Of course, if you do, I’ll be picking up the phone and calling the police. But it’s still a choice.”

A spanking, or jail. It was not much of a choice. Hesitantly, she approached Blake, until she was standing next to his left thigh.

He patted his lap. “Come on – lie across here.”

Feeling more humiliated than she had ever felt in her life – except perhaps for when Trish had forced her to strip naked in the coffee shop – Emily slowly bent over, and lowered herself on to Blake’s lap. She was far too big for this, of course, and she had to place her hands on the floor on the far side in order to keep her body roughly horizontal, while her legs drooped downward a little. Her thighs were pressing down on Blake’s left thigh; her pelvis was directly over his right.

“Good,” he said. “Now let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Emily squealed as she felt him pull up the back of her skirt. She had been hoping he would spank her through the garment, but apparently this was not to be the case. And there was no point in objecting.

Blake grinned down at her bottom, and the thin strip of fabric disappearing between her buttocks. “What a lovely ass,” he said, with a little chuckle. “I’ll try not to be too hard on it.” And with that, he brought his hand down sharply on her left buttock, causing Emily to yelp. Twice more, in quick succession, he spanked the same place, then he switched to her right buttock, and administered three more spanks. He pulled her skirt back down. “Okay, that’s it,” he said. “You can get up now.”

Emily’s cheeks were burning as she stood up. The spanking had not really hurt; it was her dignity more than anything else that had suffered. She took a step back, and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Now,” said Blake, “today is potentially a very important one for the company. You and I are going on a little road trip. Okay?”

Emily stared at him. How could he act so casually, as if he had not just spanked her bottom? Did he expect her to just shrug it off and move on to the next topic of conversation? Of course he did. And she would have to, if she was to make it through the day. She swallowed. “Um, okay,” she managed. “Where ... where are we going?”

“Summerville,” said Blake. “It’s about a two-hour drive from here. Not the most exciting trip, but a necessary one. We have a contract to recover, and you’re going to help me seal the deal.”

Emily bit her lip. Her fingers fidgeted.

“Yes?” said Blake.

“Wouldn’t that, um, be Harrison’s job?” Emily asked awkwardly. From what she knew of the way Innesco acquired new contracts, she was fairly sure that Harrison would be a little upset if Blake went behind his back.

“Very good!” said Blake, impressed. “You’ve been paying attention. Ordinarily you’d be right, but the fact is, Harrison really screwed the pooch on this one. This company we’re going to, Voltec, is a big supplier of military apparel. They have a rival, Unity Uniform, who we also supply. That’s a big issue for Voltec, because they’ve had a stormy relationship with Unity, including lawsuits concerning industrial espionage. The point is, the CEOs of both companies hate each other. The only reason we get to supply both of them is because we have an agreement with Voltec that strictly limits what we can sell to Unity. Harrison, in pursuit of profits at any cost, recently broke the terms of that agreement, and now Voltec is not only threatening to cancel the contract, they’re also considering a lawsuit against us.”

“Yikes!” said Emily. “That sounds bad.”

“So Ken has given me the task of smoothing things over with Voltec,” Blake continued. “Between you and me, he’s very unhappy with Harrison, and ... well, suffice to say that if I can fix this mess, I’ll be Ken’s blue-eyed boy.” He gave Emily a tight-lipped smile. “So I’m going to see their CEO, Damon Cuscino, in an attempt to persuade him to stay with us and not sue us ... and you’re going to help me.”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” said Emily, not sure what he had in mind. “What ... what do I need to do?”

“Well I’m not bringing you along for your extensive knowledge of the industry,” said Blake, chuckling. “I want you to charm him.”

“Charm him?” Emily repeated uneasily. “Like ... how?”

“It’s not difficult, Emily,” said Blake. “Just be yourself. You’re naturally, effortlessly charming. Just be nice to him, that’s all. I’m not asking you to fuck him.”

“Oh good ... goodness,” Emily stuttered, quite taken aback by the casual way Blake had said this.

“Your current outfit might well seal the deal all by itself,” Blake went on. “But I’m not going to take any chances. Damon’s a young, good-looking man, and his wife is even younger, and super hot. It’ll take a lot to impress him. So I want you to go back to Walker’s, right now, and ask Anthony for an even sexier, skimpier outfit than the one you’re wearing.”

“What?” gasped Emily, appalled. “Blake, this one barely covers anything at all! How am I supposed to wear something even skimpier?”

“I’m sure Anthony can help you with that,” said Blake smugly. “Now go – and be quick! We leave at ten o’clock.”

Emily stared at him, feeling paralysed. The thought of wearing a skimpier outfit than this one to an important work meeting was causing her brain to overload with panic.

“Move!” snapped Blake. “Or do you want to feel my hand on your ass again?”

Emily hastily retreated from the room, and having picked up her bag from her cube, she walked to the front door, passing Sadie’s desk in the process.

“Have fun at Walker’s,” said the receptionist, before stifling a snort of laughter.

Emily hurried through the door, feeling shocked. How did Sadie know she was going to Walker’s? Blake must have told her ... but why?

Troubled by this, she took the elevator down to the lobby, then exited through the front entrance, and walked quickly to Walker’s Workwear. Along the way she was stared at a lot, and sometimes heard muttered remarks, but she was getting used to this. What worried her was how random strangers might react to an even more revealing outfit.

Anthony was near the front of the store when she entered, chatting with a middle-aged woman and a younger man. All three of them looked up as Emily walked in.

“Emily!” said Anthony happily. “Welcome back. I wasn’t expecting you; this is a nice surprise.”

”You going to introduce us, Anthony?” inquired the woman, looking Emily up and down.

“This is Emily – she works as a secretary for one of the bigwigs at a company we’ve been doing business with for many years,” said Anthony. “Innesco. They’re a supplier of ours, but also a customer. It’s a very symbiotic relationship we have. Works very well for their bottom line and ours. Emily, this is Gloriana, and her son Costas – they run a cleaning business with over forty employees. We’ve been supplying their uniforms for ... what, four years now?”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” said Emily, smiling a little uncomfortably.

“Well aren’t you a cutie-pie?” said Gloriana, smirking slightly. She was a large woman – not fat exactly, but certainly solidly built, and at least six feet tall – in flats. “Isn’t she cute, Costas?”

“Yes Mom,” said Costas, whose eyes were fixed on Emily’s cleavage. Apparently he was a breast man.

“So what brings you here, Emily?” asked Anthony.

Emily blushed. “Um ... Blake wants...” She cleared her throat. “Perhaps I should let you finish up with your customers first...”

“Well I don’t know,” said Anthony. “That depends on what you need. If it’s quick, I can just ask them to wait a few minutes.”

Emily bit her lip. “Blake, um,” she said, feeling mortified, “wants me to get a uniform that’s ... skimpier than this one.”

Gloriana and Costas stared at her in amazement and disbelief, while Anthony merely chuckled.

“Skimpier than that?” asked Costas.

“This Blake clearly knows what he wants,” said Gloriana. “But how is he getting away with it? Have you no shame, girl? Clearly you do, or you wouldn’t be blushing so hard. I’m guessing he has some kind of hold over you...”

Emily gulped. “He’s ... I ... I think I’d rather not talk about it...”

Gloriana shrugged. “None of my business,” she said. “But you’ve got me very curious.”

“Well I’m sure we can take care of that right away,” said Anthony. “Do you mind waiting a few minutes, Gloriana?”

“Not at all,” said the woman, repositioning her glasses on her rather aquiline nose. “You go right ahead; I’m interested to see the results.”

“Thank you,” said Anthony. “Wait here Emily; I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, Emily fidgeted with her fingers while Costas and Gloriana talked to each other in low voices, occasionally glancing over at her. She was not given much time to feel awkward about this, fortunately, as Anthony was back in less than two minutes. “Here,” he said, handing her a cream-coloured top and a sky-blue skirt.

Emily recognised them as the tiny skirt and sheer top she had briefly tried on the last time she was here. “Oh, not these!” she said, alarmed. “These are way too revealing!”

“They’re exactly what you asked for,” said Anthony cheerfully. “But if you like, I can take photos of you wearing them, send them to Blake, and see what he says about them.”

Emily’s heart sank; she had a strong feeling that Blake would heartily approve of them. And she was not at all keen on posing for photos with Gloriana and Costas present. “All right, I’ll take them,” she said in a small voice.

“Good!” said Anthony. “Slip out of your current clothes, then, and into the new ones.”

“What?” said Emily anxiously. “Can’t I just take these with me?”

“Oh I’m sorry,” said Anthony, “but I can’t afford to just give you outfit after outfit. This is a replacement for your current clothing, which I’ll take back and sell to someone else. They’re pretty much brand new, after all.”

“But I really think Blake only meant for me to wear a skimpier outfit for this one trip!” said Emily in dismay.

“Shall I call him?” Anthony asked politely.

Emily was more sure of herself this time. “I’ll call him,” she said firmly, pulling her phone out of her bag.

But when she called Blake’s number, she got his voicemail. “He’s not answering,” she said.

“Well I can’t let you leave here with two outfits,” said Anthony. “If Blake decides he doesn’t want you to keep the new uniform, he can send you back here to swap again.”

Emily sighed. She had no other argument to advance. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll go and change.”

“You can change right here,” said Anthony with a playful grin. “I’ve seen you naked already, after all.”

“But Gloriana and Costas haven’t!” said Emily.

“And they won’t now,” countered Anthony. “You can keep your panties on.”

“But ... my breasts!” said Emily.

“Your boobs will be visible even with the top on,” he pointed out. “See-through, remember?”

“Ugh!” said Emily. It occurred to her that she could simply walk past Anthony and go directly to the changing room despite his instructions to the contrary, but such open defiance was not in her nature. And there was something about being made to undress in front of other people that was making her ... a little tingly...

Biting her lip, she unfastened the last couple of buttons on her blouse. “Fine,” she muttered. “Enjoy the show.” And she opened up the blouse and slipped it off her shoulders.

“Wow...” breathed Costas.

“She’s nicely put together, isn’t she?” Anthony remarked happily.

“You can say that again,” said Gloriana, with an expression of what might have been envy.

Emily’s cheeks burned as she hurriedly put on the sheer top. It was as ridiculous a garment as she remembered, and she whimpered a little as she tied the two strings together at the front. Then she unzipped and pulled down her skirt. Stepping out of it, she stepped into the shorter skirt, and pulled it up. As she zipped it up, she groaned at how short it was. “I’m going to be a laughing stock!” she wailed. “My butt shows in this skirt – and I’m wearing a thong! People are going to think I’m not wearing any underwear at all!”

“Turn around, and let’s see,” said Anthony.

“We’ll be happy to give you our expert opinion,” said Costas, his eyes riveted to her chest.

Emily hesitated, then turned her back on the three of them.

“She’s right, it does look as if she’s going commando,” Gloriana remarked. “But my lord, what a butt!”

“It’s gorgeous,” Costas agreed.

Emily turned back around, tears coming to her eyes. “But I don’t want people thinking I’m not wearing panties!” she said desperately. “I get taken advantage of enough as it is!”

To her surprise, Anthony now came to her rescue. “I totally understand,” he said sympathetically. “And I may have a solution for you. A regular pair of panties would show terrible panty lines under a skirt that tight ... but fortunately there’s a place just near here that sells specialty underwear, and I think they might have something that would suit your needs. It’s called Secret Sensations.”

“Okay...” said Emily dubiously.

“Come and sign for your new clothes,” said Anthony, “and I’ll give you directions.”

Emily left Walker’s two minutes later, feeling very naked and vulnerable and anxious about how people would react to her appearance. Walking with hunched shoulders and her arms folded across her chest, she hurried down the street, taking a right turn and then a left. She reached Secret Sensations in a little over three minutes. She looked at her phone; it was only 9:35. She had plenty of time.

The exterior of the shop looked rather drab and grubby, and she could see mannequins inside, wearing various items of startlingly sexy clothing, which had been positioned in some very lewd poses. Emily stared at them nervously; was this really a place she wanted to enter?

Anthony had seemed very sure of his recommendation, however, so she took a deep breath, and entered. Inside, the shop seemed very cramped: it was far smaller than Walker’s, and every spare bit of floor space was taken up by racks of clothing, with narrow aisles in between that made the place feel like a maze. Emily could see nobody around, so she made her way hesitantly towards the middle of the shop, peering over at the unoccupied counter against the right-hand wall.

“Can I help you?” said a voice just behind her right shoulder.

Emily jumped, and quickly turned to see an old man, slender and sunken-cheeked, and several inches shorter than she was, smiling ingratiatingly up at her. “You scared me!” she gasped.

“I do apologise,” he said. “It’s these loafers; they make almost no sound at all. My name is Mr Howell; I’m the owner of this store.” Then his brow furrowed a little. “Have we met? Your face seems rather familiar...”

“I don’t think so,” said Emily. She was fairly sure she had never seen this man before.

“Oh well,” he said, with a little shrug. “How may I be of assistance?”

Emily’s cheeks reddened. “Um, I need some panties,” she said. “This skirt...”

“Yes it’s very short, isn’t it?” said Mr Howell. “Quite remarkably short. I won’t inquire what you do for a living...”

“Nothing improper!” said Emily hastily. “I work in an office. My boss ... he’s requiring me to wear this outfit. But I just can’t go back there with only a thong underneath. You can’t even see it; it looks like I’m not wearing any panties at all!”

“I quite understand,” said Mr Howell smoothly. “You want to wear panties that show beneath the skirt. Well we have plenty that will fit the bill...”

“I’m not allowed to have panty-lines though,” Emily added quickly.

“Ah,” said Mr Howell, nodding. “Well you’ve come to the right place. We have some very nice seamless panties that I think will serve your needs perfectly. Would you prefer full-cut, high-cut, bikini, hipster, boyshorts, or low-cut brief?”

“Um,” said Emily, a little flustered at the selection, “just ... regular panties, I guess? I mean, not big ones ... just like ... sexy, but not disappearing between my ... butt...”

Mr Howell smiled. “Bikini or low-cut then,” he said. “I’ll bring both.” He stepped back, and regarded her appraisingly. “Size 8, I believe?”

“Yes!” said Emily. “You ... you have a good eye.”

“Thank you,” said Mr Howell gravely. “I’ve been doing this a long time. I must say, though, it’s rare that I have a chance to assess a figure as remarkable as yours. You must let me fit you for a bra sometime. That top doesn’t look like it provides much support.”

Emily, who still had her arms folded across her chest, blushed an even deeper shade. “I ... I’ve kind of given up bras,” she said, embarrassed. “I feel ... freer, like this. And men love it, of course.”

“Of course,” said Mr Howell, nodding sagely. “All the more important, then, to pick a suitable top for you. And while I’m sure that one is popular with the men in your life, I think you’d be happier with something from our collection.”

“Maybe,” said Emily uncomfortably, “but my boss has his heart set on something really sexy.”

Mr Howell beamed. “And why not?” he said. “Here you will find plenty of clothes that are both sexy and comfortable – it’s what we specialise in! Please – allow me to show you...”

“I have to be back at the office by ten,” said Emily apologetically. “I really just need the panties for right now.”

“Of course, of course,” said Mr Howell. “I’ll be right back. Colour preference – I’m guessing white?”

“Yes please,” said Emily, impressed.

Less than half a minute later he returned and held up two pairs of panties. “Which cut do you prefer?”

Emily eyed them thoughtfully. The smaller ones were perhaps sexier, but if she had an accident... “Those,” she said, pointing to the slightly larger pair.

“Certainly,” he said, handing them to her. “Go ahead – try them on.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “You ... allow that here? Isn’t it ... unhygienic?”

The old man chuckled. “Only if I put them back on display afterwards without washing them first,” he said. “But it’s rare for that to happen, quite honestly. Once you try those panties on, I’m confident you’ll want to buy them. In any case, you’re quite safe; nobody else has tried them on. So go ahead.”

“Um, do you have a changing room?” Emily asked.

“No space for one, I’m afraid,” said Mr Howell apologetically. “But we’re pretty relaxed about nudity here. Just go ahead and change right there.” He turned his back on Emily.

She had been half-expecting him to watch her change her panties, so it was nice to discover that he was rather more of a gentleman than Anthony. Pulling up her skirt, she tugged her thong down and stepped out of it, then she put on the panties Mr Howell had brought her, and pulled them up. Instantly, she loved them.

“Oh my goodness!” she gasped. “These are so nice!”

Mr Howell turned around, smiling. “I know, right?” he said, staring down at the panties, which Emily hastily covered by pulling down her skirt. “They’re very popular. Come over to the mirror and see how they look on you. I think you’ll find they’re as aesthetically pleasing as they are comfortable.”

Emily followed him over to the mirror, where she hesitantly began tugging up the sides of her skirt.

“You might as well just take it off,” he said. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Her hesitation, however, had been borne of habit rather than shyness. In truth she did not mind showing this old man her panties in the slightest. Unzipping her skirt, she tugged it down over her hips, then let it fall to the floor. Looking in the mirror, she turned this way and that, admiring how the panties looked on her. “They’re just so smooth!” she said. “I’ve never seen or worn anything like it. What’s the material?” She could not help noticing that the panties were conforming to her loins so snugly that they were even mimicking the shape of her labia and the cleft between. There was no trace of a seam anywhere, and the fabric was so thin that she could barely feel its edge when she ran her fingers down her abdomen and on to the material.

“It’s a polymer,” said the old man, “akin to spider silk, but man-made. Or so I’m told. The manufacturer is a startup based in California.”

“Cool!” said Emily. “I actually work at a company that makes synthetic fabrics. Innesco.”

“Very interesting!” said Mr Howell. “So how many pairs of these would you like?”

Emily bit her lip. “How much are they? I’m a little low on funds...”

“Twenty-five for one pair, eighty for a pack of four,” said Mr Howell.

“Ugh,” Emily groaned. “I really like them! But I just can’t afford that...”

“I’d be willing to give you a discount,” he replied, licking his lips, “if you’ll allow me to show you one of our tops...”

A discount would certainly be welcome. No doubt the old man just wanted to see her breasts – perhaps he was not such a gentleman after all. But plenty of men had seen her breasts already, so if it got her a bargain, she did not mind adding Mt Howell to the list. “Okay,” she said. “As long as it won’t take too long.”

He sidled away, then returned with a skimpy-looking garment. Opening it out, she raised an eyebrow. “Is this a bra or a top?”

“It’s a top,” he replied. “Try it on!”

She paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Well thanks to the sheerness of this top, I guess I’m not showing you anything new...” She untied her top, and took it off, fully exposing her breasts. Then, without meeting his eye, she took the top from him and pulled it over her head. As she tugged it into place and let go, it moulded itself to her chest, clinging to her curves. It was white, and even more sheer than the top she had just removed, but it was better-fitting, afforded more coverage, and looked far nicer in the mirror. Its firm clinginess also provided a measure of support unmatched by any top other than her sports bra – but unlike the sports bra, it was light and thin and form-fitting. “This is awesome!” she gasped. “I think I could almost run in this!” Then, sensing that this required some explanation, she added, “Big breasts make running a bit problematic.”

“I’m sure,” Mr Howell replied. “Now, that top is forty bucks, but I’ll let you have it, along with a four-pack of those panties ... for sixty. That’s essentially a fifty percent discount on everything.”

“Oh!” said Emily, feeling torn. She really wanted these clothes ... but sixty dollars was still a lot of money. “Gosh...” She bit her lip again. “Um ... I might have to settle for one of each...”

“For sixty-five?” asked Mr Howell. “You sure about that?”

“Oh!” Apparently the discount only applied to the original offer. “Oh dear...”

“Tell you what,” said the old man. “I’ll give you the four-pack of panties, plus the top, for free ... if you agree to do a little photo shoot for our online catalogue.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “A modelling job? Sure! I can do that.” She enjoyed modelling.

“Really?” said Mr Howell, surprised. “Excellent! Um, there may be some nudity required...”

Emily shivered. But she had already posed nude for Pablo – tastefully – and for several rather more amateurish photographers since then, sometimes very indecently. A shoot for this store was likely to be of the tasteful kind, and as long as the photographer was nice, she did not mind the idea of posing naked again. “I ... I guess that would be okay...” she said. Then, because she did not want to seem too wanton, she added, “As long as it’s tasteful.”

“As far as it can be, given the nature of the catalogue, I’m sure it will be,” he assured her. “But I’ll need to send a quick photo of you to our new photographer – he’s freelance, he doesn’t answer to me – just to make sure he’s happy to do a shoot with you. Do you mind? One quick pose?”

“Um, of course,” said Emily.

“Naked, if you please,” Mr Howell added. “He’ll need to see what he has to work with.”

Emily bit her lip, then nodded. She pulled her top up and over her head, then she tugged her panties down, marvelling at how relaxed she had become about taking off her clothes in front of a strange man. For good measure, she also kicked off her shoes.

“Wow,” said Mr Howell admiringly. “What a beauty! Um, could you pose, please?” He raised his phone, and as Emily adopted a somewhat conventional pose, with a hand on her right hip and her left knee bent, he took a couple of photos. “Right – I’ll send these to Pablo, and then I’ll leave it up to the two of you to arrange a time for the photo shoot.”

“Pablo?” asked Emily, her eyes widening. “Not Pablo Sanchez, by any chance?”

“You know him?” asked Mr Howell in surprise. Then he snapped his fingers. “That’s where I know you from! Pablo’s portfolio!”

Emily gasped. “He sent you my photos?”

“Yes indeed!” said the old man. “It was partly on the strength of those photos that I told him he could be our new photographer. Well well! What an odd coincidence! I assume then that you have no objections to working with Pablo?”

“Not at all,” said Emily. “I had fun at our last photo shoot.”

“Then he has your phone number already?”

“Yes,” Emily confirmed.

“Good,” said Mr Howell. “But perhaps you could give it to me too? Just in case I need to contact you?”

“Of course,” said Emily, and they exchanged numbers. Then Emily put on her new panties, followed by the sky-blue skirt that did not fully cover them, followed by the cream top.

Mr Howell wrote her a receipt for the panties and the top he was giving her as payment for the modelling job. “Have fun with the photo shoot!” he said. “I look forward to seeing the results.”

“Thank you,” said Emily. “Goodbye, Mr Howell.”

She left the store, and walked quickly back to Innesco, arriving with about five minutes to spare. She went straight to Blake’s office, ignoring Sadie, whose eyes widened as she passed.

“Very good,” said Blake approvingly. “Turn around.”

Emily did so, her cheeks burning as she heard him chuckle. “Oh yes – very nice indeed. But you changed your underwear!”

Emily turned back around. “I didn’t want to give the impression that I wasn’t wearing any,” she said quickly.

“Hmm,” he said. “It’s fine. I kinda like the look. All right, let’s hit the road.”

He led her down to the parking lot, where he unlocked his car the old-fashioned way. “Nice car!” Emily remarked.

Blake smirked. “Like the colour, do you?”

“It is a pretty colour,” Emily admitted. “But it’s the design that I was referring to. It’s a Plymouth Valiant, right? Late fifties?”

Blake stared at her. “1960 actually,” he said. “But very impressive nonetheless. You know your classic cars!”

“I know this one,” said Emily. “My dad loves old cars; he had a business for a few years, buying and restoring cars, and then selling them off again. Mom made him give it up eventually because he was keeping too many of them instead of selling them. Anyway one of them was a Valiant. Little younger than this one though. I used to love hanging out with my dad and my brother Mark, watching them work. I enjoyed seeing them taking a rusty old hulk and bringing it back to life.”

“You have hidden depths!” said Blake. “But climb in, and let’s be off.”

He seemed so pleased that she could identify his car that Emily wondered if he would spend the whole journey talking about it. But it seemed he had another topic in mind. “Now I know that I’m not bringing you with me for your knowledge of specialty fabrics,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t acquire such knowledge and be useful in that way in the future. I’m all for career development. The question is, are you willing to learn?”

“Absolutely!” she replied.

“Good,” said Blake. And for almost the entire journey, he talked to her about the company, its history, its products, the challenges it had overcome, the issues it faced now, and the plans he and Ken Zuckerman had for its future. It was a lot to take in, but Emily tried her best to retain as much of the information as possible.

“Now,” he said, as they pulled into the parking lot at Voltec. “In the future things might be different, but today you’re here as eye candy. So don’t say any more than you need to, be pleasant and sweet, especially to Damon, and don’t be shy about showing him your tits and ass – without being too obvious about it. You got it?”

Emily nodded, feeling uncomfortable. She had been enjoying being treated like a protégée on the journey here; now she felt like a piece of bait on the end of a fishing line. Still, she did not want to let Blake down; she might have a limited and demeaning role to play, but she was determined to play it to the best of her ability.

Voltec had a male receptionist, to Emily’s surprise. “We’re here to see Damon,” said Blake, while the young man behind the desk stared at Emily like a child who has just seen Santa Claus tiptoe into his bedroom.

“Whoa...” he whispered. Then he shook himself. “Um, I’ll let him know you’re here. Name please?”

“Blake Butcher.”

The receptionist made a call, spoke with someone for a moment, then hung up. “He’s expecting you,” he said. “Please follow me.” He got up from his desk, then walked through a doorway to the right of the reception desk. Blake followed, with Emily behind him, and as they entered a large open-plan office, Emily nervously tried to tug her skirt down at the back. It was hopeless, of course – there was no way she could cover her panties – and she whimpered slightly as her fingers reminded her of how much of her bottom was on display.

Fortunately, however, her passage was barely noticed; the office drones for the most part remained glued to their screens. Only a couple of curious faces turned towards them, but Emily barely had time to register their astonished expressions before she was past them – and she was not about to look back over her shoulder to check whether they had stood up to stare at her exposed panties as she walked away.

The receptionist knocked on a windowless wooden door, next to which was a plaque that bore the words ‘Damon Cuscino – CEO’. Then he opened it, and leaned inside. “Blake Butcher’s here, Damon.”

“Thanks Cole, send him in.”

Blake entered the room, and Emily followed. Damon, a darkly debonair man in his early thirties, had got to his feet and was approaching Blake with his hand outstretched. “Hey Blake, thanks for coming.”

Blake shook his hand. “My pleasure, Damon. You’re looking irritatingly young and handsome, as usual.”

Damon’s laugh was cut off as he stared at Emily. “Uh, hello?” he said uncertainly.

“Hi,” said Emily, feeling suddenly very shy and awkward. “I’m Emily.”

“My new assistant,” Blake explained. “Just started this week. Doesn’t know much yet, but she’s pretty sharp, and she’s learning fast. You’ll have to excuse the outfit; she’s a bit of an exhibitionist. I can’t deny it’s nice to have the eye candy around the office, though.”

“I’m sure,” said Damon, eyeing Emily with a mixture of wariness and interest. Take a seat, both of you. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” said Blake.

In truth, Emily was a little thirsty, but since Blake had declined, she did not feel able to ask for anything. “I’m fine, thank you,” she said. She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Blake.

“You sure, Emily?” Blake inquired. “I had my coffee in the car, but you haven’t drunk anything since we left.”

“Please,” said Damon, “let me get something for you, Emily. Tea? Coffee? Just water?”

“Actually, some water would be very nice,” Emily admitted. “But I don’t want to put you to any trouble...”

Damon got to his feet. “No trouble at all!” he said with a charming smile. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh!” said Emily anxiously. She had assumed he would summon somebody to fetch her some water, not go and get it himself. The idea of a CEO waiting on her was rather horrifying. “I’m sure I can get it myself, if you just point me in the right direction...”

Blake chuckled. “Why don’t you both go? Then you can show her where the kitchen is, Damon.”

“Sure!” said Damon.

Emily got to her feet. “Okay,” she said.

She accompanied him out of his office and down a long aisle between two rows of cubes, hoping that nobody would see her. But as they walked, Damon struck up conversation, and his voice naturally turned a few heads. “So you just started this week?” he asked. “What do you think of Innesco so far?”

“It seems like a good company,” she said dutifully. “Honestly, I’ve little to compare it to. I was a barista last week.”

“Interesting,” said Damon. “So what got you this job?”

Emily glanced sidelong at him, and noted his smirk. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “but it’s not like that. I mean, not entirely. Obviously Blake likes the way I look, and somehow he talked me into wearing this outfit...”

“Oh?” said Damon. “He said you’re an exhibitionist. He was lying, then?”

Emily immediately realised she had slipped up, and needed to backpedal. “He didn’t lie,” she said carefully. As they entered the kitchen, she was glad to see it empty. “The thing is, I grew up in a very religious community. I wore long dresses with long sleeves, and high necklines. If my parents could see me now – oh my goodness! Anyway, when I moved to the city and discovered I could wear whatever I want, I found that I quite enjoy wearing short skirts, low-cut tops and so on. I guess it was my barista uniform that set me on that path. And that uniform pretty much got me this job ... or at least got me an interview. I like to think I impressed Blake in the interview for reasons that had nothing to do with my clothing, though.”

“I’m sure you did,” said Damon, his mouth twitching. “The water cooler’s right there. But if you want tea or coffee, help yourself.”

“Water will be perfect, thanks,” said Emily, walking over to the cooler. She could almost feel Damon’s eyes on her bottom as she bent over, exposing more of her panty-clad buttocks to his gaze.

“Doesn’t seem much point in even wearing a skirt,” Damon remarked. “Given how little that one covers.”

Emily shuddered as she stood up. “Please don’t say that to Blake,” she said. “I wouldn’t want him to get that idea in his head.”

Damon chuckled. “Sure, okay. But I have to say, your gambit is kinda transparent.”

“My what?” asked Emily, looking down at her chest.

Damon burst out laughing. Emily, who knew perfectly well what a gambit was, giggled along with him. “Very good,” he said, once he had figured out that her jest was intentional. “Even so.”

“Okay, so Blake was hoping my outfit would help our case,” Emily acknowledged. “He’s not stupid, though, and he doesn’t think you are. He knows you’re not going to just fall into line because of my breasts or my panties. He’s just hoping that, you know, whatever appeal I might have ... will at least soften you up to the point where you’re willing to listen to what he has to say. He values your business! Can you blame him for taking extreme measures to try to persuade you to stick with Innesco?”

“No, I guess not,” Damon admitted. “I’d be inclined to look unfavourably on such a blatant appeal to my baser instincts ... but I like you, and for your sake I’ll give Blake a fair hearing. I would anyway, to be honest, since he drove all the way out here, but I don’t mind telling you, Emily, you’ve scored some points on his behalf.”

“Yay!” said Emily happily. “If you could mention that to Blake at some point, I’d be very grateful.”

Damon laughed. “I can do that.”

They returned to his office, where Blake laid out his case in detail, attempting to smooth the feathers Harrison had ruffled. As he wrapped up his speech, he laid some paperwork on Damon’s desk. “Here’s the new pricing structure. I think you’ll find it very agreeable. I can’t undo the orders we’ve already shipped to Unity, but I can guarantee you we will not be selling them the V series products or the Gevity Macro anymore. That was a terrible error, pushed through without my knowledge, and I have seen to it that it does not happen again.”

“I want more than that, though,” said Damon, looking through the paperwork. “I want you to drop Unity as a customer entirely.”

“I know you do,” said Blake, nodding. “And I wish I could say that’s an option for us. But Unity’s market share is too big for us to cut them off completely. We’d be putting ourselves at a serious disadvantage in the industry ... and it serves nobody, least of all Voltec, to have a weakened Innesco struggling to find volume in the marketplace. The stronger we are, the stronger our customers are.”

Damon shrugged, and continued reading the paperwork for another minute or so. “Well, I do like your deal,” he said eventually. “I’d probably still reject it on the grounds that you were clearly in breach of our original contract, and we’re entitled to damages more substantial than the profits we would make from the merchandise we’d manufacture out of your products ... but you made a smart move by bringing your lucky charm with you. Emily’s more than just a fine piece of ass. She’s an asset to Innesco, and I hope you can see that for yourself.”

“Well, that remains to be seen,” said Blake, glancing over at Emily. “She had a rocky start with us, and we’re still working through some issues ... but I’m glad she proved valuable on this trip at any rate.”

“She did,” said Damon. “She persuaded me pretty eloquently to give you a fair hearing, and damn it, I’m now feeling like I’d hate to let her down.” He chuckled. “How about I take you guys out to lunch? There’s a nice sandwich place down the road from here – family owned – and they have THE best paninis...”

“That sounds great,” said Blake, “but it’ll be my treat, of course.”

Damon smiled, and nodded. “Suit yourself. Uh, will Emily be okay though, going out like that?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Emily, her cheeks turning quite pink. “As long as I have you two nice gentlemen to protect me.”

Blake guffawed. “Oh you’ll be safe with us,” he said. “I have a mean right hook, and Damon ... aren’t you some kinda martial artist?”

Damon snorted. “I wish,” he said. “I took a few kickboxing classes in my teens – I’m surprised you knew that actually – but I didn’t get to a particularly high level.”

“I believe it was your wife that told me about it,” said Blake. “She said you had won trophies.”

Damon shrugged. “Local competitions – no big deal. Shall we go, then?”

“Sure,” said Blake, getting up. “Emily, do you want to ride with Damon? I’m sure you’re tired of my company after a two-hour drive.”

“Not tired at all,” said Emily diplomatically. “I leaned a lot this morning. But I’d certainly enjoy a ride with Damon – if he’s willing.”

“It’d be a pleasure,” said Damon. “Andiamo!” He gestured to the door, his meaning clear even if the word he used was unfamiliar to Emily.

Blake and Emily walked with Damon to the front entrance, and out into the parking lot, where Emily followed Damon as the two men headed in different directions. “I’ll just follow you,” said Blake.

Damon’s car was even nicer than Blake’s. “Wow!” said Emily, her eyes wide.

“You like it?” asked Damon with a grin. “It’s a Lamborghini Gallardo.”

“It’s beautiful!” said Emily. “You must be rich!”

Damon laughed. “Well, I am the boss. I do okay. Climb in! She’s pretty sweet on the inside too.” He held the door open for her.

As she got in, Emily could not help noticing that he was positioned perfectly to see up her skirt as she sat down. For a moment she dithered as to whether she should act demure or give him a show, but then she decided to just get in normally; he would see what he would see, and it was not like he hadn’t seen her panties already.

Damon smirked at the sight of Emily’s panties, then he closed the passenger door and walked around the car to the driver’s side. Getting in, he turned towards Emily, and leaned in a little. “You’re something else, Emily, you know that?”

Emily blushed. “Thank you,” she said awkwardly. “I guess everyone’s unique...”

He reached over and took hold of one of the strings holding her top together. “What would you do if I pulled on this string?” he asked softly.

“I’d say you were a very naughty man,” Emily replied, her breath quickening. “Aren’t you married?”

“I am,” he conceded, gently tugging on the string. “But we have a somewhat open marriage...”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Emily inquired, her breathing quickening. One of the loops in the bow she had tied in her strings was becoming very small.

“It means we both get to sleep with other people,” said Damon. He finished untying the bow, and deftly brushed aside the two sides of Emily’s top, exposing her breasts. “Mamma mia, just look at those – utter perfection.”

“You ARE a very naughty man,” said Emily, shivering a little as she covered her breasts with her hands. “Shouldn’t we be getting to that sandwich place? Blake will be wondering what we’re doing.”

“Yeah,” said Damon reluctantly. “Leave your boobs uncovered, though, until we get there.”

Emily stared at him. “You’re not even going to say please?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary, is it?” said Damon with a smirk. “Your instructions were to keep me happy, right?”

There was that smirk again. Emily decided that she did not like it. “Well I’m sorry,” she said, re-tying her bow, “but I’m not inclined to be generous with a man who has no manners. I think on second thoughts I’ll drive with Blake instead.” She put a hand on the handle of her door, waiting for his humble apology.

It did not come. “You’re willing to throw away the deal Blake’s offered me, just because I didn’t say please?” he inquired in amusement.

“More than willing!” said Emily firmly. She got out of the car and walked towards Blake’s Valiant, with as much dignity as she could muster considering her buttocks and panties were peeping beneath the hem of her skirt.

“What’s wrong?” asked Blake, frowning, as Emily climbed into his passenger seat.

“He wasn’t being very nice,” said Emily, folding her arms. “He undid my top!”

“Shit,” muttered Blake. “Please tell me you didn’t slap him.”

“No, of course I didn’t,” said Emily. “And honestly, I’d have been okay with letting him look for a while, but he didn’t even say please! And he acted like I was just here for his entertainment!”

“Well, in fairness, you are,” Blake pointed out. “But let me get this straight: you were willing to let him look at your boobs in order to keep him happy ... but then you threw it all away because he didn’t say please? Is he going to reject our deal?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It kind of sounded like it.”

“Ugh!” Blake exclaimed. “Emily! You gotta learn to swallow your pride sometimes! This is very important! This deal – I’m sorry, but it’s worth more than your injured dignity. Go back to Damon, right now, and apologise to him. Maybe the deal can still be rescued...”

“Apologise?” said Emily indignantly. “For what? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You blew the deal! You don’t think there’s something wrong with that?”

“Well, I...” Emily began, feeling increasingly anxious.

“Go and fix it!” Blake insisted. “Your job depends on it!”

Emily gulped. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

She returned to Damon’s car, took a deep breath, and opened the passenger door. “Damon, I’m sorry I overreacted,” she said, leaning in but not meeting his eye. “My strict and prudish upbringing kicked in, I guess. If you would still permit me to ride with you, I’ll undo my top again.”

Damon stared at her. “No need for that,” he said, “but climb on in.” Then, as Emily settled herself and closed the door, he went on, “Seems like you’re being coerced into this, and that’s not cool.” He sighed. “Look, I can be an asshole sometimes, I’m happy to admit it. You don’t get to be in a position like mine if you’re not. Sometimes I push people to their breaking point, just to see where that is. Obviously I found yours, but while I don’t feel particularly guilty about that, it doesn’t sit too well with me that Blake’s forcing you to go beyond that limit.”

Emily slowly untied her top. “Thank you for your candour,” she said. “Honestly, I’m not even sure myself what my limits are, these days. This past week has been quite a roller-coaster, and I’m discovering my limits are somewhat ... elastic. But I have no problem with you looking at my breasts, so ... here they are again. I’m not walking into the sandwich place like this though!”

Damon regarded her breasts thoughtfully. “You’re an interesting girl,” he said. “Okay then, let’s see you take off that top entirely.” When her eyes widened in concern, he added, “You can recline your seat and lie down if you like, so nobody can see you from other cars.”

Emily shivered. “Will this, um, seal Blake’s deal...?” she inquired nervously.

“Nope,” said Damon. “You’ve already earned the deal. This would just get you and Blake, and your company, some extra brownie points. It’s up to you – but I would very much like it if you would do it.”

Emily hesitated. He was giving her an out ... but was it a test? Would his disappointment, if she did not acquiesce, lead to some sort of bad feeling or retaliation later on? Perhaps she should go along with the request; after all, it did sound quite exciting...

“I guess,” she said timidly, “it would probably earn me some brownie points with Blake too...”

“There you go,” said Damon cheerfully. “It’s a win-win.”

In terms of coverage, there was little practical difference between having her top open and removing it altogether, but Emily nonetheless felt rather more naked when she had folded up her top and laid it in her lap. Damon reached over, picked it up, and tossed it on to the back seat. “Don’t want it covering those pretty legs, do we?” he said. “Now go ahead and recline your seat.”

Emily did so, and soon was lying almost horizontal. At this point Damon raised an eyebrow. “I see you’re engaged,” he remarked. “What would your fiancé say if he could see you now?”

Emily bit her lip. “He’d be fine with this, actually,” she said. “He’s not the possessive type.”

“Oh!” said Damon in surprise. “Would he mind if I did this?” He reached over and gave her left breast a gentle squeeze.

Emily gasped a little, but shook her head. “No, I’m sure he wouldn’t,” she said.

“But what about you?” Damon asked. “Do you mind?”

“I ... I guess not,” said Emily. She wanted to mind – knew she ought to mind – but she felt obliged to be honest.

“Good,” said Damon with a smile. Then he leaned over, and put his face down close to hers. “Would he mind if I kissed you?”

“He might,” she admitted.

“Really?” he asked. “He likes you to play with other guys, but kissing is off the table?”

“Well,” said Emily uncomfortably, “actually he does like me kissing other men ... but only if they’re not a threat. Like, there’s this boy I’m living with – Paul – he’s not very handsome, and he has acne, and he’s kind of overweight. Nathan doesn’t mind me kissing Paul, because he feels safe that I’m not going to leave him for Paul.”

“Ah, I see,” said Damon. “Well in that case I would assure Nathan that he’s in no danger of losing you to me. I’m married, and have no intention of taking you away from your fiancé. I just want to enjoy your company for a little while. That’s safe enough, don’t you think, from his perspective?”

“Maybe,” Emily conceded, but she could say no more, because Damon’s lips were on hers, and his tongue was pushing into her mouth.

He was a good kisser, and Emily closed her eyes as she surrendered to it. She felt him gently massaging her breast, and then, as her arousal grew, she felt him sliding his hand down her belly to her skirt. Easing her thighs apart, he cupped her pussy through her panties, his wrist pushing the hem of her skirt up. Emily moaned softly, savouring the sensation of the sensuous massage her vulva was getting.

The indignation and annoyance she had felt towards Damon were entirely forgotten. She had been brought up to forgive and forget, if the person who wronged her was sorry and willing to make amends. While it was not in her nature to hate, she had at certain times in her life been very angry and upset with somebody, only to bestow on them a happy smile and a warm hug the moment they sincerely apologised. This came naturally to her, but it was also a deliberate philosophy: she strongly felt that no good could come of bad feelings. Forgiveness made her feel good.

This made her feel good too, albeit in a different way. Damon had now slipped his hand inside her panties, and was stroking her pussy directly. Then, as she spread her legs even wider, she felt him slide a finger into her vagina.

But only a moment later, he withdrew his hand from her panties, and sat up. “Better get moving,” he said.

Emily stayed low and horizontal during the short drive to the sandwich shop. Then she put her top back on, raised her seat, and got out. Blake had pulled up alongside Damon’s car; he regarded her with pursed lips, but said nothing.

“After you,” said Damon, gesturing to the entrance.

Emily entered nervously, tugging her skirt down as far as it would go. But her anxiety gradually abated as, over the course of a rather pleasant lunch, bad things failed to happen. The young woman behind the counter certainly looked uncomfortable as she took their orders, but if she wanted to comment on Emily’s outfit, the presence of two well-dressed and important-looking men perhaps dissuaded her. And although she prompted glances and whispers from other patrons of the establishment, nobody made any audible comments.

Blake and Damon talked shop for a while, then their conversation moved on to cars. Emily listened politely, but did not contribute much. After they had finished eating, they left the shop and returned to their cars. Emily had agreed to ride back with Damon, and as she climbed into his car, she wondered if he would ask her to go topless again. It was probably a safe assumption, so on an impulse, she untied the strings at the front just as he was getting into the driver’s seat. He looked across at her, and grinned at the sight of her slipping the garment off her shoulders.

“Good girl!” he said. “You’re awesome, Emily, hehe – but how about going fully nude this time? Come on – it’ll be fun.”

“Damon...” said Emily hesitantly. “I’ve been thinking...”

“Uh-oh,” said Damon jovially.

“I’m just a little worried about what my fiancé would say,” she went on, undeterred. “I know you’re married, but I still think he might see you as a threat. I mean, you’re a ... a good-looking man...”

“Thank you very much,” said Damon.

“And you’re also rich,” Emily added. “And I know Nathan’s a bit sensitive about our financial situation. I just think this might ... bother him.”

“And yet you just took your top off,” he remarked.

“I doubt he’ll mind that,” said Emily. “But I think I should draw the line here.”

“Seems like we already crossed that line,” said Damon. “But if you’re unsure, why not call him and ask? Perhaps if he knew it would help you gain favour with your boss...”

Emily shuddered. “I don’t know, Damon. He’s at work; he might not answer.”

“No harm in trying, though, right?”

She bit her lip. If Nathan did not answer, she would have an excuse to play it safe. And if he did ... perhaps this was her opportunity to find out where he stood on such things. “All right,” she said reluctantly, reaching into her bag. “I’ll try.” She pulled out her phone, and called Nathan, hoping he would not answer.

But he did. “Hey Baby!” he said. “You’ve got good timing – I’m still on my lunch break.”

“Oh good,” said Emily, feeling anxious. “Um ... I need to check on something with you.”

“Oh? Well sure, go ahead.”

Emily took a deep breath, then she explained – at least in part – the situation in which she found herself, while Damon waited patiently and with a smirk of amusement.

Nathan was silent for a few moments. Then he said, in a tone of wonder, “So ... you’re topless right now in this guy’s car?”

“Yes,” Emily admitted.

“Wow! I wish I could be there to see it!” said Nathan. “But if you want to know whether it’s okay for you to kiss him and let him grope you ... I mean ... I guess I’d ask you if there’s any danger of you falling in love with him, and leaving me for him.”

“No, of course not!” said Emily, shocked at the idea. “But he’s a good-looking man, and I’ve had the notion previously that this kind of thing is only okay if the man is, you know, unattractive.”

“Yeah, I guess that does make it feel safer,” Nathan acknowledged. “But heck, the thought of you riding in someone’s car topless is worth bending the rules a bit. I trust your judgment, Baby. As long as you are sure you’re not going to fall for the guy, you have my blessing. And, honestly, my encouragement. I want to hear all about it later, okay?”

Emily was feeling a little stunned. “Okay,” she said. She wanted to get into specifics about what was and was not allowed, but she did not particularly fancy discussing it while Damon was listening. “I’ll talk to you later then.”

“Bye Babe.”

She hung up, and turned to Damon with a slightly nervous expression. “I guess he’s okay with it...”

“I like your fiancé already!” said Damon with a chuckle. “Let’s see that lovely body of yours then.”

Once she was naked and reclined, he reached over and began gently stroking her pussy. “Very nice,” he said. “We’re going to have fun, you and me.”

“Not too much fun, though,” said Emily, feeling nervous. She was sure Damon was expecting to have sex with her, and she could not let that happen.

“We’ll see,” he said, starting the car.

Lying down, Emily could not see where he was driving them, and she was a little nonplussed when, after about five minutes, they had still not arrived back at Voltec. “Shouldn’t we be there by now?” she ventured.

“I’m taking the scenic route,” he explained. “There’s a place I want to show you,”

Emily’s unease grew. A minute or so later, she felt the car come to a halt, and bit her lip. She assumed she was in for some kissing and some groping, which was fine and would no doubt be quite fun. But what if he tried to have sex with her, and didn’t take no for an answer when she asked him to stop? It was a little nerve-wracking.

“Come on,” said Damon. “I think you’ll like this place.” He opened his door, and got out.

Emily tentatively sat up, and looked around through the windows. They appeared to have stopped in a little parking area at the end of a long dirt road that wound its way through deciduous woodland. As she opened her door, she could hear running water. She got out, gingerly setting her bare feet down on a mixture of gravel and grass.

Damon was walking into the trees. “This way,” he said.

Emily followed him down a short slope to a large, flat-topped, moss-covered rock – one of many boulders that littered both banks of a small river. Emily swatted at a mosquito that landed on her shoulder. “This place is lovely,” she said, “but I’m going to get eaten alive by mosquitoes!”

Damon chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t think to bring any bug spray. But we won’t be here long. Come and lie down on this rock; I think you’ll find it quite comfortable, with all the moss. I’ll try to keep the mozzies off you.”

Emily’s heart pounded as she walked over to the rock, and lay down at Damon’s feet. He grinned, and began to unbuckle his belt. Then, noticing her anxious expression, he explained, “I don’t want to get green moss stains on my pants.” Having taken off his shoes, he removed and folded up his grey trousers, and set them down on a moss-free patch of rock. Then he took off his shirt, too.

“You’ll get bitten too,” Emily warned him.

He shrugged. “Mosquitoes don’t usually bother me,” he said, lying down next to her. “Something about my body chemistry I guess. But even if I do get bitten, it’ll be worth it.” He took hold of her left breast with his right hand, and kissed her.

She responded half-heartedly at first, but he was good with his lips and tongue, and as his hand slid down her belly to her pussy, she began to get quite aroused. Damon knew what he was doing, clearly – his fingertips teased her by tracing small circles on her skin, creeping inexorably towards her clitoris with each pass. Finally they got there, and began to work magic. Emily could feel mosquitoes biting her, but the pleasurable sensations coming from her loins were overriding her instinct to take remedial measures.

He slid a finger inside her, and she moaned and parted her legs. Soon he was fucking her with two fingers, her thighs were spread wide apart, and he was climbing on top of her while kissing her neck. Her eyes were closed; she loved having her neck kissed.

But then she gasped, and her eyes snapped open, as something thick and rigid began sinking into her vagina in place of Damon’s fingers. “No!” she squealed. “Damon, I’m a virgin!”

He paused, having pushed himself all the way inside her, and stared down at her in surprise. “Not anymore, I guess.”

“No, I am!” Emily insisted. “I’m still a virgin as long as you don’t actually start thrusting inside me.”

He snorted in amusement. “Who told you that bullshit?” he asked.

“A doctor,” she replied. “And I confirmed it with a dictionary.”

“Are you serious?” he said, puzzled. “You reckon you’re still a virgin despite me being buried balls-deep in you?”

“Yes!” said Emily. “And I’m saving my virginity for my fiancé, so please, Damon, please don’t start thrusting.”

Damon shook his head in bemusement. “So it’s okay for me to put my cock inside you, just as long as I don’t thrust it in and out?”

Emily bit her lip. “I ... I guess so, yes.”

“Huh,” said Damon. “Well okay then – how about we just make out for a bit while I’m inside you?”

“Um, sure,” said Emily. “That sounds nice.”

As they kissed, she ground her pelvis against his, which felt amazing ... but after a couple of minutes, Damon broke off in frustration. “This is nice and all,” he said, “but dammit, I need to cum.”

Emily could sympathise; she was rather desperate to climax herself. “How about I give you a blowjob?” she suggested.

Damon hesitated, then nodded. “Sure,” he said. He pulled out of her, then lay down on the moss next to her. “Go for it.”

Emily sat up, then got on to her knees, and bent over Damon, taking his cock into her mouth. As she sucked, mosquitoes descended upon her, landing on her back, her upraised bottom, her thighs, and even her pussy. Undisturbed, they sank their probosces into her flesh, and feasted greedily on her blood.

Damon was in no hurry to climax, and actually distracted himself with thoughts of an upcoming conference in order to prolong the experience. But after four minutes or so, his growing excitement could be denied no longer. With a groan, he erupted inside Emily’s mouth, causing her to swallow rapidly. She continued sucking for a minute or so longer, and then she sat up on her heels. “Can we go now?” she asked, a little plaintively. “I’m getting absolutely covered in mosquito bites.”

“Don’t you want to cum too?” Damon inquired.

Emily did, very much; she was still feeling horny, and frustrated. She was also desperate to return to the car and stop providing the mosquitoes with a feast. But she nodded; a nice orgasm would be some compensation for the terrible itching she would soon have to endure.

“Okay, lie down,” said Damon, sitting up. “I want to watch you masturbate.”

Emily was sure he probably meant this as a request, but it did sound rather like an instruction. At any rate, she wanted to have an orgasm, and she was strongly averse to arguing if she did not have to. So she lay down, rested her right hand on her pussy, and began to rub her clitoris with her middle finger.

“Not like that,” said Damon cheerfully. “Gimme a show! Spread your legs; finger-fuck yourself with your other hand.”

Emily stared at him indignantly. “You’re very demanding!” she remarked peevishly.

“It’s true, I am,” he admitted candidly. “You don’t get to the top by accepting the statue quo, though. You have to always push for more, more, more. But you’re not my employee, and I should show a little more respect. I apologise. Would you mind, please, giving me a nice show?”

Emily sighed, and nodded. Spreading her thighs apart, she slid two fingers of her left hand into her vagina, and began thrusting them in and out while she played with her clit. Damon watched, grinning ... which was a little off-putting, so Emily closed her eyes. As her climax approached, she began to utter breathy moans, which made Damon chuckle in delight. Pulling out his phone, he began filming her, taking in her whole body at first, but then bringing his phone closer so that he could get some close-up video of her flushed face, the fingers playing with her moist pussy and vagina, and the mosquitoes feasting on her breasts...

Emily arched her back as her orgasm hit, and she uttered a long moan of pleasure. Then, after panting for a few moments, she opened her eyes.

Damon had put his phone away. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get back to the car before you pass out from blood loss. You have an insane number of mosquitoes on you.”

“Ugh, you could have chased them away!” said Emily, swatting at the hungry flies on her breasts.

“I figured it wouldn’t make much difference at this point,” said Damon. “You’re going to have to slather your whole body in antihistamine ointment anyway.”

Emily got to her feet. “In my family we’ve always used a hot spoon,” she said.

“Whatever works for you,” said Damon. “Just don’t damage that pretty hide of yours.”

Emily walked back to the car in silence. Then she abruptly said, “Can I put my clothes back on now, please?”

“Sure,” said Damon with a shrug.

Emily retrieved her clothing, such as it was, and got dressed. Then she climbed into the passenger seat.

As Damon turned the car around, he said, “Well, you’ve certainly earned that deal. I’ll be sure to tell Blake you made a very compelling case.”

“Please don’t tell him I gave you a blowjob,” Emily said.

Damon chuckled. “He’s not an idiot,” he said. “He’ll assume we did something. But sure, I won’t give him any details. Why, are you afraid he’ll want one too?”

Emily nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well jeez, Emily, I’m betting it’s only a matter of time before he gets one anyway. He’s got you over a barrel, right? He’s already given you a spanking...”

“He told you that?” asked Emily, mortified.

Damon laughed. “Yeah, he told me.”

“Well that was just a punishment,” said Emily awkwardly. “It wasn’t ... sexual.”

“Are you kidding?” said Damon. “Oh, that’s right, you come from a strict religious community. Are spankings for grown women a thing there?”

“Occasionally,” Emily admitted, feeling more embarrassed now than when she had been naked.

“Well let me tell you,” said Damon, “Blake got a big sexual thrill out of spanking you, I guarantee it. And he’ll find any excuse to do it again. And the punishments will escalate. You’ll see.”

Emily said nothing. She hoped he was wrong, but she was afraid he might not be.

The ride back to Voltec did not take long. As Emily got out of Damon’s car, she saw Blake standing by his Valiant. He did not look pleased. Tugging her skirt down, she walked quickly over to him, while Damon followed at a more leisurely pace.

“Sorry Blake,” Emily began. “Damon wanted to show me a place...”

“What the heck happened to you?” Blake demanded, staring at her chest. “You’re covered in ... are those bug bites?”

“There were a lot of mosquitoes,” said Emily ruefully. Already much of her body was starting to feel like it was on fire. She had to force herself not to scratch at her bites.

Blake snorted. “Well I hope you got what you wanted, Damon,” he said.

“Unfortunately not,” said Damon. “She’s loyal to her fiancé, and I guess I gotta respect that. But she’s a heck of a girl, Blake, and I hope you treat her well. You’ve got her to thank for me signing your deal, as written – no revisions.”

“Well all right then,” said Blake gruffly. “I guess we’ll be heading back, in that case. You ready to go, Emily?”

Emily nodded. She would have liked to take some time to deal with her bites, but she did not want to make a fuss.

The journey back to Jonesburgh was torture. Emily squirmed in her seat, pressing her back against the upholstery, squeezing her arms against her chest, clamping her thighs together, clenching and unclenching her buttocks. Her replies to Blake’s attempts at conversation were laconic, and eventually Blake chuckled and shook his head.

“What the hell did he do to you?” he inquired. “Strap you to a rock and let the mosquitoes feast on you?”

“No, of course not,” said Emily, blushing. “But ... I mean ... it was nice of him to take me there, and I didn’t want to make a scene by complaining or constantly flapping at mosquitoes. They didn’t like him, apparently – they left him alone completely. They were all over me though – millions of them!”

“Hmm,” said Blake. “You did do something with him, though, right? I’m prepared to believe he didn’t fuck you, but I know Damon, and he wouldn’t let you go without getting something.”

Emily blushed. “I ... that’s ... that’s between me and him,” she said uncomfortably.

“So that’s a yes?” Blake pressed. “Go on – I don’t need details – just give me a yes or no. If there was no actual sex ... there was some kind of sexual contact, right?”

Emily hesitated. “I ... I guess so,” she admitted. “Sorry Blake.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “You did what you had to do in order to keep an important customer happy. I’m hardly going to hold that against you, am I?”

“Okay,” said Emily in a low voice. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you!” said Blake. “My decision to bring you along today totally paid off. We’ve rescued the contract, fixed Harrison’s mistake, and demonstrated that you can be valuable to the company. Worth a few mosquito bites, wouldn’t you say? You better be careful there, though, or you’ll end up rubbing all the skin off your back.”

“It’s just so itchy!” Emily groaned.

Blake smirked. “Yeah, I’m sure. Well look, it’ll be after three by the time we get back, so why don’t I just drive you straight home?”

“Thank you,” said Emily gratefully. She pulled out her phone, and saw that she had several unread text messages. “Um, I don’t want to be unsociable, but do you mind if I take a few moments to reply to some texts on my phone?”

“Go right ahead,” said Blake.

One message was from Paul: ‘Job’s going fine, but boring. Missing you! Can’t wait to see you later. My friend Enis is coming over to play video games; he’s dying to meet you!’

Emily shivered. So Enis would get to see her naked too. Oh well ... from the way Jacob and Mary talked about him, he would probably be appreciative, at least. She replied, ‘Sounds good – I’m looking forward to meeting him too.’

Another test was from Billy: ‘Finished my little project. Talk to you at work tomorrow? Unless you want to get together this evening...?’

Emily replied, ‘I’m not sure yet what my plans are for this evening. I’ll let you know. Thanks Billy!’

Another text was from Nathan: ‘Hi Babe! Hope your day is going well. Just FYI we have band practice at 6:00 today. Meet you at the apartment?’

‘Sure!’ she replied.

Another message was from Fred: ‘What did you think of the photos? I’d love to take some more of you. When are you going to come back for another visit?’ This was followed by three smiley faces.

She replied, ‘I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it was nice meeting you. The photos are good, but very embarrassing!’

Then, finally, one from Mack: ‘Will you be coming here after work? I’ve got some cool photo ideas...”

Emily smirked; she doubted that Mack would be so keen to photograph her once he saw that she was covered in mosquito bites. But on the other hand, he would probably be willing to help her treat them...

She replied, ‘I’ll be there; I need your help with something, if you’re willing.’ Then she turned to Blake. “Blake, actually I’d like to go straight to my fiancé’s place if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” said Blake. “Just direct me.”

They reached the city soon afterwards, and Emily directed Blake to Lansdowne Street. “See you tomorrow,” he said to her as she got out. “Good luck with those bites.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Mack let her in, and she hurried through the lobby and climbed the stairs. As she approached the door to Nathan’s apartment, it opened.

Mack stared at her. “What happened to you?” he asked in surprise.

“Mosquitoes,” she replied ruefully. “And these bites are driving me crazy. Can you help me with them please?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” he said uncertainly, standing aside so she could enter. “I’m not sure if we have anything that would help, though. Want me to run out to the pharmacy and pick something up?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” she assured him as she walked past him and set her bag down by the couch. “We just need a mug full of boiling water, and a metal spoon.”

“Ah, the old hot spoon method,” said Mack, nodding sagely. “Does that really work?”

“Better than any ointment,” Emily confirmed. “Don’t ask me to explain it scientifically; I just know it works.”

Mack shrugged. “Okay then, I’ll go microwave some water. Where would you like to...” But Emily was already taking off her top and heading into his bedroom.

Three minutes later, he entered his room with the mug and spoon. Emily was lying face down on his bed, completely naked. “I love that you’re so cool about being naked around me,” he remarked.

“Mack, your cock has been inside me,” said Emily. “At least partially. I don’t think there’s any point in false modesty.”

“Good point,” he agreed. “All right, how should I start..?”

“The key is to test the spoon on the inside of your forearm,” said Emily. “If it’s so hot that you have to take it off immediately, it’s too hot. If it just feels warm, it’s not hot enough to do the job. You want it at a temperature where you can only just stand to keep it pressed against your skin. Oh, and make sure it’s dry first.”

“So, dip it in the water, dry it off, then test it?”

“Yes. Well you’ll need to leave it in the water a bit, to give it time to heat up.”

Mack put the spoon into the mug, and waited. Emily’s back was so covered with reddish lumps that in places they had merged to form large, irregular blotches. He took the spoon out, dried it off, and tried pressing it against his forearm. “Jesus fuck!” he said, hastily removing it.

“Language, Mack!” said Emily.

“Sorry,” said Mack. “Still a little too hot, I think.” He tried it again, a few moments later, on a different part of his arm. This time, it was approaching bearability. He waited a moment longer, tried it again. Definitely bearable. He pressed it against one of Emily’s bites, on her left buttock. She twitched, and he pulled it away.

“No no, put it back,” said Emily. “It’s fine.” Then, as he reapplied it, she added, “That’s barely hot enough, actually.”

“Okay,” he said. He pressed it against the same spot for a few seconds, then he moved it to another spot.

“Nope,” said Emily, “you’ll need to heat it up again.”

“Jeez, this is going to take forever!” said Mack.

“Would you rather I go home and ask Mary to do it?” Emily inquired.

“No!” said Mack hastily. “I’m sure I’ll get faster with practice.”

Indeed he did. He quickly developed a feel for how hot the spoon needed to be, and by applying it to each bite for just two full seconds, he was able to treat three bites before the spoon lost too much heat and he had to put it back in the mug. In this manner, he was able to treat all of the bites on her back and thighs before the water in the mug got too cool to be effective.

“I’ll go and reheat the mug,” he said.

Certain parts of Emily were more sensitive to heat than others, as they both learned from painful experience (Emily’s), but Mack quickly became quite good at his job, and after Emily had turned over and he had applied the hot spoon to every bite on her front, she let out a sigh.

“Thanks Mack,” she said. “That feels much better.”

“No itching?” he asked.

“It’s very hard to say,” she replied. “I’m still in pain from the treatment. Once that fades – and it should, pretty quickly, then I’ll be able to tell whether or not I’m still itching anywhere. How many bites do you think I have?”

Mack shrugged. “I didn’t count,” he said. “But I’d guess ... I don’t know ... two-fifty? Three hundred? Somewhere in that ballpark.”

“Ugh!” said Emily. “Crazy. I can’t believe I let Damon ... indulge himself ... for such a long time in such an awful place! I mean, it was a lovely place really, but ... ugh, the mosquitoes!”

“Maybe next time he’ll lay you down in a meadow full of ticks,” Mack speculated.

Emily shuddered. “Don’t,” she said. “That would be a nightmare!”

Mack chuckled, then looked thoughtful. “You ... you really let him stick his cock all the way in...?”

She nodded. “Can’t argue with the dictionary, right?”

“I guess not,” said Mack. “But that brings me to my photo ideas...”

“Oh Mack, do I look like I want to pose for photos right now?” said Emily. “I look like ... well I don’t know what I look like. Not my best, anyway!”

“You do look kinda blotchy,” Mack conceded. “But you only have one bite on your face, and it’s a pretty small one. You still look beautiful.”

“Thanks Mack,” she said. “And thank you for helping me with my bites. I’m not really in the mood for a photo session, or anything else you probably have in mind ... but I guess you’ve earned a little reward. Would you like a blowjob...?”

“That would be awesome,” he admitted, “but I was hoping for ... you know. Come on – don’t you think it’ll feel good? It might take your mind off your discomfort. I could give you a nice orgasm. You won’t get anything for yourself out of a blowjob...”

“I’m not in the mood, okay?” Emily snapped, before immediately feeling guilty for having lost her cool.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” said Mack, taken aback. He had never seen Emily lose her temper before. “I guess you’re really in pain, huh?”

“A little bit!” said Emily. “Look, I’m sorry I was snappy. I just ... the thought of a hot body on top of me right now... I’m happy to give you a blowjob, as a reward for your help...”

“I don’t need it,” said Mack. “And you don’t have to reward every little act of kindness with a sexual favour, Emily. Just seeing you naked is more reward by far than I deserve. I don’t need anything else. Let’s just take care of you. What else can we do to make you more comfortable?”

“Thanks Mack,” said Emily gratefully. “I don’t know – just time to cool off, I guess.”

“How about a nice cool shower, then?” Mack suggested.

“That does sound nice,” Emily admitted.

“Go on then,” said Mack. “I’ll fetch you a towel.”

“Thanks,” said Emily. She looked at her wrist, but she had not put on her watch today. “What time is it?”

Mack glanced over at his alarm clock. “Four forty-five,” he said. “You’ve got ages until Nathan gets home. He doesn’t finish until six.”

“Yes,” said Emily, nodding. “Okay then. Oh, this is going to feel so nice...”

It did. As the cool water peppered her back and ran down over her breasts and belly, the ubiquitous burning sensations ebbed away. By the time she stepped out of the tub, she was shivering, but her skin felt almost normal again. She dried herself off, taking care to dab rather than rub, then she hung up the towel and walked out of the bathroom.

Mack was not in his room, so she entered the living room, and found him playing a video game. “If you don’t mind, I’ll stay like this for a while,” she said, a little shyly. “It won’t take much rubbing for some of these bites to wake up again, so the fewer clothes I wear in the meantime, the better off I’ll be.”

“You won’t hear me objecting,” said Mack cheerfully, as he looked her up and down. “You’re looking much better, I have to say. That shower took a lot of the redness out of your skin.” He grinned. “Actually you look amazing. God, you have such a beautiful body...”

She blushed. “Thank you,” she said. “But I’d prefer you not to use the G-word, please.”

“Oh, sure – sorry,” he said.

Emily was feeling much better now, and she was aware that she had not yet thanked Mack properly for treating her bites. Walking around the couch to stand in front of him, she knelt down, then reached for the opening in his boxer shorts.

“Oh!” said Mack, his eyes widening in surprise. “Uh ... don’t feel like you have to ... but okay, if you insist...” His eyes rolled back and a beatific smile came to his lips as she began sucking on his rapidly hardening cock. “Oh ... wow ... that’s so good...”

But Emily was only just getting started. As she sucked, holding Mack’s erection with her left hand, she was rubbing her clitoris with her right. This, coupled with the thought of what she was about to do, soon made her very horny ... and wet. Removing her mouth from Mack’s cock, she climbed up on to the couch, straddling his lap, and slowly lowered herself on to him, steering him into her moist vagina.

“Oh! Wow!” Mack gasped, as his erection gradually sank fully inside Emily. “This is ... incredible...”

“Mmmm, yes,” Emily sighed, slowly grinding her pelvis against his.

Mack held his breath, paralysed. The slight rhythmic motion of his cock inside Emily’s vagina was rapidly becoming more exciting than he could safely suppress. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that!” he said anxiously.

Emily froze. “Don’t do that!” she whispered urgently. “Are you seriously that close?”

“I’m pretty close!” Mack confirmed apologetically. “I’m sorry – it’s just that this is a very intense moment for me! Are you sure Nathan would be okay with this?”

“No,” Emily admitted ruefully. “Ugh! This is so frustrating! I really want to have sex, Mack – properly!”

“I’d be more than happy to oblige,” said Mack, “but you’ll need to give me your permission. Genuinely – not as part of a roleplay. I can tell the difference.”

Emily sighed. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll just have to talk to Nathan. We promised each other we’d wait ... and I was perfectly happy to, not long ago. But this past week has been so very exciting...”

Mack nodded. “Well maybe I can finish off in your mouth...?”

“Yes,” Emily agreed. She climbed off him, rather reluctantly, then she knelt next to him on the couch and started sucking him from the side. Almost immediately, he came hard into her mouth. She swallowed, and continued sucking for a while longer. “Wow, you really were close!” she remarked, wiping her mouth as she sat up.

The door opened, and Mack hastily tucked his cock away as Clive and Sasha walked in. Clive spotted Emily first; his jaw dropped in surprise.

“Oh my gosh!” Emily exclaimed, covering her breasts and pussy as she sat back on the couch, untucking her legs.

Sasha stared at her. “Emily!” she said in astonishment. “You’re naked!”

Emily’s cheeks were crimson. “Yes ... um ... it’s the new me, I guess. People seem to like it when I’m naked, and I must admit it’s kind of exciting...”

“Jeez, girl, you gotta be careful!” said Clive, looking troubled. “Breaking out of your shell is one thing, but you’re going to get yourself into trouble! What if Mack decided to ... you know...”

“Decided to what?” asked Mack, prepared to be offended. “Do you think I have no self-control, Clive? I’d never do anything to hurt Emily!”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” said Clive, backtracking quickly. “But still ... aren’t you ... tempted? To cop a feel, or something?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t mind if he does cop a feel,” she said, letting her left arm fall away from her breasts. “Nathan likes it when other men grope me. And I must admit, it’s kind of fun ... if it’s a nice guy and not someone mean.”

Mack grinned, then he reached out and took hold of Emily’s right breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. Emily giggled.

Sasha burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Emily, what’s happened to the sweet and innocent girl from Oakwood?”

“I’m still her,” Emily said firmly. “I’m just ... loosening up a bit.”

Clive shuddered. “I’m worried about where this is leading,” he said.

“Aww, don’t be a buzzkill,” said Sasha. “I think it’s awesome that Emily’s revelling in her newfound freedom. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to give one of those boobs a squeeze yourself!”

Clive pursed his lips. “They’re very lovely,” he conceded, “but yours are enough for me.”

Sasha chuckled. “Well I’m going to, if you aren’t,” she said, coming over to the couch. She paused in front of a wide-eyed Emily. “May I?”

“But ... you’re a girl!” said Emily in surprise. “And ... you like men!”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a nice pair of boobs,” said Sasha. But then her brow furrowed. “Are you okay though? Your skin looks kinda ... are those bug bites?”

“Yes,” Emily admitted. “I was naked amongst a great many mosquitoes earlier this afternoon.”

“Holy shit!” said Sasha. “You must be itching like crazy!”

“Not any more!” said Emily. “I mean, I can feel a bit of residual tingling in various parts of my body ... but Mack helped me treat all the bites with a hot spoon, so I’m feeling much better now.”

“Huh!” said Sasha. “Well good for you.”

“Just how did you find yourself naked in a place where there were so many mosquitoes?” Clive inquired.

Noting Emily’s guilty expression, Sasha jumped in: “Oh hush, Clive – that’s none of our business.”

“It might be Nathan’s,” Clive countered.

“Then Nathan can ask her about it,” said Sasha. She turned back to Emily and added, “You’ll have to explain it to him, obviously.”

“Of course,” said Emily. “I won’t hide anything.” But she did not quite meet Sasha’s eye as she said this ... a fact which was not lost on Sasha.

“Hey Clive, can we borrow your room?” Sasha asked. “If I’m going to fondle these beauties, I’d rather do it in some privacy, without you guys ogling us.”

“Uh, sure,” said Clive, while Emily raised an eyebrow at Sasha.

“Come on then,” said Sasha, taking Emily’s hand. “Let’s have some girl time.”

“Um, okay...” Emily got up, and followed Sasha to Clive’s room.

Sasha shut the door, sat down on the bed, and patted the covers next to her. “So,” she said, “who was this guy you were naked in the woods with today?”

“Oh!” said Emily, taken aback. “Well ... how did you know we were in the woods...?”

“Best place for mosquitoes,” said Sasha. “Was he cute?”

Emily shrugged. “I guess so. He was ... older. Like in his thirties.”

“And let me guess ... the two of you did something together that Nathan would not approve of.”

Emily bit her lip. “I ... I’m not exactly sure,” she said. “Nathan loves it when other guys get naughty with me ... but he’s been a little vague about where the line is drawn.”

Sasha nodded. “And you’re more than happy to play around with other men – am I right?”

Emily blushed. “It is kind of fun...”

Sasha chuckled. “I’m sure it is. But don’t you think maybe it says something about your relationship with Nathan...?”

“Like what?”

“Like ... maybe you know deep down he’s not the right guy for you...?”

“Oh, no, not at all!” said Emily resolutely. “Nathan and I belong to each other. I love him! I want to be his wife!”

“And yet clearly he’s not enough for you,” said Sasha matter-of-factly. “Or you wouldn’t be messing around with other guys. You just wouldn’t want to. So ... what’s missing in your relationship with Nathan?”

Emily deflated a little. “Sex, I guess,” she admitted. “We promised each other we would wait until marriage, but ... I just don’t want to wait anymore! I’m ready. I want to do it now. I’ve already decided I’m going to talk to him about it this evening. Probably after band practice.”

“Okay...” said Sasha, seeming unconvinced. But then she smiled, and patted Emily’s leg. “Well, good luck. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll pop that cherry of yours and leave you happy and exhausted and satisfied. If he doesn’t ... I think it’d be like ignoring a ticking time bomb.”

“It really would,” Emily confessed. “I’ve been getting dangerously close...”

Sasha nodded. “A girl has needs, right?”

“Right!” Emily agreed.

“Okay, let’s rejoin the others,” said Sasha.

Emily raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t want to ... you know...?”

Sasha laughed. “Oh ... sure.” She reached out, took hold of Emily’s breasts, and gave them a squeeze. “It’s most unfair that you have these, and all I have to work with are...” She gestured at her own chest.

“Yours are very nice,” said Emily politely. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t want my backaches.”

“Yeah, about that,” said Sasha. “Are the massages helping?”

“They are,” Emily conceded. “But my last massage was on Saturday, and its effects have long since worn off. I think I need a massage every two days, at least, in order to keep my back from aching.”

“You should ask Alex for a freebie,” said Sasha. “Failing that, heck, get Nathan to massage you! Or Mack, if you’re comfortable with him touching you – which you seem to be. Heck, I’ll do it myself if you like.”

“Thank you!” said Emily gratefully. “I hate to impose, though...”

Sasha grinned. “No imposition,” she said. “It would be a pleasure. And jeez, do you think Mack wouldn’t jump at the chance?”

Emily smiled. “I suppose he might. But would he be as good as Alex?”

“So go see Alex,” said Sasha.

“He did mention freebies,” said Emily with a sigh. “But only in the context of saying he couldn’t do them. Rules of the spa, or something.”

“When’s your next appointment with him?” Sasha asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good,” said Sasha. “Ask him about it again tomorrow. I’m pretty sure he’ll find some way to give you free massages; there’s no way he’s not counting the minutes until your appointment tomorrow.”

Emily chuckled. “Okay, I’ll ask.”

There was a knock on the door. “You two done in there?” came Clive’s voice.

“Almost!” Sasha replied.

“I should let the two of you have some time together,” said Emily. “I’ll go play video games with Mack until Nathan gets back.”

“Okay,” said Sasha, looking amused. “Just how far have you gone with Mack, anyway?”

Emily blushed. “I ... I’d rather not say.”

“That far, huh?” said Sasha. “Well, have fun.”

“Um ... thank you,” said Emily, not sure and a little anxious about how much Sasha had guessed. She got up and left the room, smiling apologetically at Clive as she passed him.

When Nathan arrived home, a few minutes after six, he was delighted to find his fiancée naked and playing a video game with his best friend. “Oh, this is awesome!” he exclaimed.

Emily giggled as she got up and walked over to give him a hug and a kiss. “I’m glad you approve,” she said. “I thought you might.”

“So now you’re going naked here as well!” said Nathan happily. “Wow, you’re the best fiancée ever!”

“Come into your bedroom,” she said to him. “We need to talk.”

“Uh, can’t it wait?” he asked. “We’re kind of late for band practice already. Brian’s there with a whole lot of recording equipment.”

“Yes, it’s important!” said Emily firmly, as she turned and walked quickly towards his bedroom.

“Why are you covered in ... okay, I'm coming!” said Nathan, hurrying after her.

Once they were both in the bedroom, Emily shut the door and turned to Nathan. “We have to have sex,” she announced.

“What?” said Nathan, startled and unnerved. “Now?”

“No, not now,” said Emily. “But tonight! It’s time. I’m ready.”

“But I’m not!” said Nathan nervously. “We’re not yet married! We’ve talked about this. I thought we were on the same page.”

Emily sighed. “We were,” she said. “But things have changed. This past week has been such an adventure for me – sometimes exciting, sometimes scary – and I’m wearing less and less, and getting groped more and more...”

“Oh?” said Nathan. “By whom? Other than Paul?”

Emily bit her lip. “Well ... there’s the Davises’ neighbour, Harry...”

“The old man copped a feel?” said Nathan in delight. “Oh goodness! I hope you didn’t give him a hard time. I think that’s kind of awesome.”

Emily hesitated. “What would you think if...”

“What’s up with your skin, anyway?” Nathan interrupted. “You look like you’re recovering from chickenpox.” His eyes widened. “Do you have chickenpox?”

“No!” she said. “I got bitten by mosquitoes. My boss took me to see a customer in order to rescue a contract he was in danger of losing, and my job was to make this guy – Damon – happy. So I went for a ride in Damon’s car, and he took me to a pretty little spot in the woods. He was ... he was hoping to have sex with me...”

Nathan’s eyes widened in shock. “You didn’t...”

“Of course not!” said Emily quickly, her cheeks reddening. “But I did get naked for him – my job was to keep him happy, after all...”

“Wow!” said Nathan. “Did he ... grope you?”

Emily nodded, feeling increasingly nervous. “And he kissed me...”

Nathan gasped. “Was he ... old?”

“No, he was quite young ... and good-looking!” said Emily, a little defiantly. She did not mean to hurt Nathan, but she was a little annoyed by the fact that he only wanted her to kiss unattractive men.

Nathan looked dismayed. “Are you ... interested in him?”

“No of course not!” said Emily. “He’s not a very nice man. But even if he were, I’m your fiancée, Nathan! You’re the one I love. You’re not going to lose me to anyone, least of all some entitled CEO who thinks he can just order people around.”

Nathan smiled. “Then I’m not concerned,” he said. “I trust you. Thank you for telling me.” He grinned. “Is it bad that I’m glad he groped you?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “No, it’s fine,” she said. “But anyway, the place was alive with mosquitoes, and they were all over me. These are all bites. Most of them aren’t itching anymore, thanks to a hot spoon which Mack helped me with.”

“I bet he enjoyed that!” said Nathan.

“Yeah,” Emily conceded. “You know ... he’s been groping me too...”

Nathan laughed. “I guess I can’t blame him. Oh, but man, I’m so going to give him a hard time about it!”

His apparent lack of any kind of a possessive streak bemused Emily. “I’m still not sure how you’re okay with the idea of other men groping me. Most men...”

“I’m not most men, though,” said Nathan, seeming a little sheepish. “I’m sorry if it seems strange to you, but try to see it from my perspective. My fiancée is not only the most beautiful woman in the world, but she’s also, in the space of a week, become the sexiest woman imaginable! She loves skimpy clothing and even being naked in company, and other men find her so irresistible that they can’t keep their hands off her! How is that not awesome? How is it not incredibly flattering to my ego, that I get to marry such a woman?”

“That’s all very well,” said Emily, blushing, “but you don’t seem all that interested in groping me yourself!”

Nathan shrugged awkwardly. “I do want to,” he said, “but the time never seems right. I’m not going to just reach out and grab your boob whenever you’re within reach...”

“Why not?” Emily inquired, feeling oddly offended. “Other men always seem to be contriving ways to get me undressed or to grope me. Why aren’t you doing that?”

Nathan stared at her. “Uh,” he said, “maybe because ... I don’t have to? I know that you’re mine, and I can, you know, do things with you, and it’s perfectly fine because we’re engaged. Other men have to seize their opportunities when they can to get a piece of you, because if they don’t, they might not get another chance. I can afford to be more ... chill, I guess.”

“Chill?” said Emily. “Yes, I suppose that’s apt.” She sighed. “Nathan, I’d just like to feel that you get as excited about me as other men do.”

“But I am excited!” Nathan protested. “I was thrilled to come home and find you sitting naked on the couch! I love that you’re standing here naked right now!”

“Don’t tell me, Nathan,” said Emily in exasperation. “Show me!” She threw herself on his bed, rolling on to her back. “Take me!”

But Nathan was pulling out his phone. “It’s Brian,” he said, tapping the screen and holding it to his ear. “Hi Brian! Yeah, we’re just leaving – we’ll be there in a few minutes. Yeah I know – sorry.” He hung up. “I’m sorry Babe,” he said, “but we really need to go.”

“Nathan!” said Emily in exasperation.

“I know, I know,” said Nathan, holding his hands up. “The timing sucks. But I don’t want to rush our ... intimacy – it’s too important. We’ll have more time later this evening, after our practice.” He stared at her pussy. “Oh man, you do look good though...”

“Ugh, fine,” said Emily irritably, as she climbed off the bed. “I guess you’re right – it’ll be better if we’re not feeling rushed. I’ll go and put my band clothes on.”

“Okay,” said Nathan, looking relieved. “Sorry.”

Emily retrieved her clothing from Mack’s room, and put on her thong, followed by the top and skirt she had put into her bag this morning. Finally she slipped on her shoes, and turned to Nathan. “Ready!” she said.

“Have fun,” said Mack.

“Thanks!” said Nathan. “We will.”

The bus ride to the old publishing building was rather quiet. Emily wanted to continue discussing the prospect of having sex with Nathan, but two grinning teenaged boys in the seats behind them made such a conversation impossible, so she resigned herself to bringing up the subject again after the practice.

As they walked into the press room, Emily’s eyes widened. The whole space had been transformed. A new wooden stage had been set up, along with a long lighting rig on which were set half a dozen large floodlights.

“Holy cow!” said Nathan, his eyes wide. “Who’s paying for all this?”

“It’s rented,” said Brian, walking over with a cheery grin. “Well, borrowed. I called in a favour. Like it?”

“It’s amazing!” said Nathan. “Is that the recording equipment?”

“Audio and video!” said Brian, looking over to where Nathan was pointing. “We’re shooting the video at the same time as recording the sound. We’ve got a Sonicapture 24-track Digital Studio – overkill for our purposes, since we’re going single-track, but worth it for the sound quality. 4K ultra high-def camcorder, operated by my buddy Carlton there – hey Carlton, come and meet our singers.”

A muscular, grizzly-bearded man in his late forties came over, nonchalantly wielding an expensive-looking portable camera. “Hey there,” he said, nodding in greeting as he looked Emily up and down. “You must be Emily. Brian was just telling me about you.”

“Yes, well,” said Brian hurriedly, “I just mentioned that you have a very nice voice, Emily.”

Warren came over. “Hi guys,” he said. “Now you’re here, let’s have a final rehearsal of Cherry Pie while Carlton finishes setting up.”

“Sure,” said Nathan.

But they had only just taken up their positions when Marco’s face lit up. “Pizza’s here!” he announced.

Warren sighed, and got up from his drum stool in order to go and pay the delivery man. Then of course everyone wanted to eat pizza instead of rehearsing. But after another twenty minutes, finally, they were ready.

So was Carlton, and although he did not turn on his sound equipment, he did spend some time filming them. As Emily danced, her skirt inevitably rode up, and she could not help noticing that Carlton aimed his camcorder at her more and more, frequently from a low angle, after her hemline reached the level of her panties.

At the end of the song, Emily sheepishly tugged her skirt back down.

“Are you going to use that footage?” Brian asked Carlton. “The lights aren’t on.”

“Possibly,” said Carlton with a shrug. “I haven’t yet finalised my vision for the video. Bass guy – what’s your name again?”

“Marco.”

“Right, Marco – can you maybe wipe your face please. You have some pizza sauce...”

“Dude,” said Vinnie reproachfully.

“I didn’t know he was gonna be filming, did I?” said Marco defensively.

“Let’s have another play-through,” said Carlton. “Get some different angles. And Marco with a clean face.”

So they played the song again, while Carlton roamed back and forth with his camcorder. This time he seemed to be paying less attention to Emily’s panties, which she was not unhappy about.

Then came the big moment. “Okay Brian, kill the main lights,” said Carlton, as he switched on the floodlights. Immediately the stage was bathed in saturated in light from both the big floodlights on the rig and a row of smaller lights along the front of the stage. As Brian flipped the switch to turn off the strip lighting in the ceiling, the band members gasped in unison.

“Whoa, that’s bright!” said Marco.

“Feels like we’re on a proper stage!” said Nathan happily. “Like in a real concert venue.”

“Okay, now that you’re all warmed up, let’s do audio this time,” said Carlton. “Lead singer ... Nathan is it? Try to hit those high notes; there’s only so much magic I can work on a single-track recording.”

“Why aren’t we multi-tracking again...?” Vinnie wondered aloud.

“Too expensive,” said Brian. “I’d love to be able to buy us studio time and do this properly, but then we’d still have the video to shoot. This is the easiest, cheapest way to both get you a video on YouTube and create a demo for circulation to record companies. As long as you all do your best and we get a good clean recording, trust me, this will be the springboard that launches your music careers.”

“Okay!” said Nathan. “Sounds good! Let’s do it, guys!”

They played through the song again, and this time – perhaps because the lights made it seem more like a real performance, and therefore more exciting – Emily danced with less reserve and more vigour ... which translated into more exaggerated movements. Her skirt rose up more quickly, and by the end of the song it was bunched up around her hips, exposing most of the front of her panties.

As the final chord faded to silence, Brian clapped his hands in the semi-darkness behind the lights. “Nice!” he said. “How was that, Carlton?”

“That was good,” said Carlton. “Let’s do it a few more times, so I have plenty of options for splicing together the best bits of audio and video.”

“That okay with you guys?” asked Brian. “Might as well make the most of this equipment while we have it.”

“Fine with me!” said Warren from behind his drums. “Are we just doing Cherry Pie, though, or can we record some of our other songs?”

“You’ve got me until eight-thirty,” said Carlton. “Until then, by all means play as many songs as you can fit in. Dancing girl – Emily – can you maybe mix up your moves a bit?”

Emily had by now pulled her skirt back down. “Um ... I’ll try, but I’m a little new to dancing. I don’t have a lot of moves yet.”

“Just experiment,” Brian suggested. “Whatever works, we can keep in the video. Whatever doesn’t, we can leave out.”

“Yeah,” agreed Carlton. “Variety gives us options.”

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” said Emily.

Over the course of the next three performances, Emily did indeed experiment. She actually found it easier to do so than she would have guessed; the practice she had had so far had given her the confidence to vary her moves. She was also getting a little naughtier, and as Carlton panned his camera in her direction, she turned around and wiggled her half-uncovered bottom at it. She doubted that this move would make it into the final video, but it was fun to do, and almost made her giggle. Fortunately she was not singing at the time.

Then they moved on to Hometown Girl, which they played through three times. Emily, getting even more confident and carefree, took an even bolder step during Vinnie’s guitar solo; as Carlton sidled in front of her, she took hold of the sides of her skirt and pulled it all the way up to her waist, while doing a little curtsey. Then she left the skirt up in that position for the rest of the song.

After the song, Brian whooped. “Man, I love this girl!” he said. “Tell me you got that, Carlton!”

“Oh, I got it,” Carlton assured him.

Then they played “Whatcha Doin’ Girl” three times, and “Love Ain’t Easy” twice, although nobody was really happy with how they performed the latter.

“Guys, we’re out of time,” said Carlton. “I gotta get this stuff packed up and returned to Sound ‘n’ Stage before ten.”

“We’ll help!” said Vinnie. “Obviously.”

“Great, thanks,” said Carlton. “Brian, could you hit the main lights?”

Once Warren’s drum kit had been taken off, the stage was dismantled – a surprisingly easy process, given that it had seemed sturdy enough while they were on it. Emily was intrigued to see how small it was when packed away in its two crates. Nevertheless, those crates were still quite heavy, and Carlton used a dolly to take them outside to his truck, while Brian and Vinnie worked on disassembling the lighting rig.

Many hands made light work, and Emily put just as much time in as the others. At first she kept pausing to pull her skirt down, but after a while she stopped bothering; it seemed like a futile effort, and everyone had seen her panties by now anyway. But when everything was packed up, she did finally make herself modest again.

“Well done guys,” said Brian. “And thank you Carlton.”

“Yeah, thanks for doing this on such short notice, Carlton,” said Warren.

“You’re welcome!” said Carlton. “I’ll let you know when the video’s done, Brian. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“Thanks, much appreciated,” said Brian. “Well, goodnight everyone.”

They all went their separate ways. Nathan and Emily returned to his apartment, where they found Mack dozing on the couch. He woke up groggily as they made their way to Nathan’s room. “Oh, hi guys,” he said. “How’d it go?”

“Good!” said Nathan. “I’ll tell you about it later. Emily and I need to ... talk.”

“Okay, have fun,” said Mack, and he winked at Emily.

Once in Nathan’s room with the door closed, Emily eagerly stripped off her clothes. “Let’s have sex!” she said, her eyes shining.

“Whoa, slow down,” said Nathan, rather alarmed. “I haven’t said yes to that. I still think we should wait until we get married. I have this vision of our wedding night, you see ... your first time, my first time, a romantic setting... I just want it to be perfect.”

Emily resisted the urge to pout. “That’s a nice idea,” she said, “but I just can’t wait that long. A girl has needs, Nathan! It’ll be months before we have enough money to get our own place...”

“Well I was thinking about that,” said Nathan. “We both have jobs now, right? We might not be able to buy a house, but we can find an apartment to rent, can’t we? I mean, just the two of us? Lots of couples rent rather than buying – even married couples. So ... why not get an apartment together ... and get married?”

Emily gasped. “Just like that? What would our parents say?”

“Who cares?” said Nathan with a shrug. “We’re adults, and we’re independent. We don’t need to ask them; we’ll just tell them! We’ll arrange a date for the wedding, invite our families, and find a place to live. Boom.”

Emily was stunned. “Wow, Nathan,” she said. “I just ... wow. When did you have in mind? For the wedding? I mean, there’ll be so much to arrange!”

Nathan stepped up to her, and put his arms around her. “Do you think a month will be long enough?”

“A month!” she echoed. “I don’t know – I guess so, if we’re not too fussy about certain things. I’ll ask Jacob if he can marry us in his church.”

“Good!” said Nathan. “Thank you.” Then he smiled. “Think you can wait a month for our ... first time?”

“I guess so,” said Emily, a little ruefully. “I’ll try anyway. But maybe we can do ... other things?”

“Sure!” said Nathan. “Like ... can I touch your ... pussy?”

Emily grinned. “Yes please,” she said. “As long as you finally agree to show me your erection.”

Nathan’s smile faded. “Uh ... right. Um ... okay. I guess ... Emily, uh, the truth is, I’m kind of a little nervous about showing it to you. I ... it’s ... I’m not totally happy with how it looks...”

“Oh?” Emily gave him an encouraging smile. “Nathan, I’m your fiancée. It’s my job to love your cock no matter what it looks like.”

Nathan nodded, and sighed. “All right – here goes then.” And he pulled down his jeans and underwear together.

Emily stared. “Wow,” she managed to say, after a few moments. “It’s ... very nice. Um ... why’s it shaped like that...?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan groaned, his erection starting to droop. “I think it may have something to do with the underwear I used to wear as a kid – it kinda forced my cock into a weird shape whenever I got an erection.”

“Well I’m sure it functions just fine,” said Emily encouragingly.

“I hope so,” said Nathan dolefully. “But what if it doesn’t? What if sex is awkward and uncomfortable for us?”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” said Emily firmly. “But wouldn’t you like to find out sooner rather than later?”

“Um ... no?” said Nathan. “What if it makes you decide you don’t want to marry me after all?”

Emily walked over to him, put her arms around him, and kissed him. “You silly goose,” she chided him gently. “As if! You and I are meant to be together, always. Nothing’s going to stand in the way of that. We won’t let it! Any problems we have, we’ll work through together. Didn’t we promise each other that a long time ago?”

Nathan nodded, and smiled. “I guess we did.”

Emily smiled fondly at him. “Now ... would you like a blowjob?”

Nathan’s eyebrows shot up. “Um ... you want to put it in your mouth?”

“I’d be happy to!” said Emily. Then, noticing his anxious expression, she added, “Or I can just give you a hand-job if you prefer...”

“Maybe let’s start with one of those,” said Nathan, seeming relieved. “I don’t want to rush things too quickly. But could I ... touch you at the same time...?”

“Sure!” said Emily. “Let’s sit down next to each other. Now, you reach between my legs, and I’ll just reach across...” She took hold of his rather soft penis, and began massaging it back to life. As she did so, it grew steadily, and as it grew it twisted and bent around to the right, until it was like a bulbous-headed banana, pointing outward across his right thigh.

While she was pumping his shaft, Nathan was rubbing her pussy ... but his inexperience showed, and her clitoris was not getting quite the attention she desired. She politely said nothing, however, and focused on getting him to orgasm. It did not take long; soon he was gasping with pleasure as his semen dribbled out and ran down the outside of his thigh.

“Aah, that was so good!” he sighed happily. Then he realised he had stopped rubbing Emily’s pussy, and be resumed, with a little more vigour than she was ready for.

She gently caught his wrist, and pulled his hand away. “Don’t worry about me, for now,” she said. “I’m just happy I finally got to see and touch your cock.”

“Oh ... okay,” he said. “Well I’m glad I finally showed it to you! I know it’s been a long time coming, but ... I was just kinda ... embarrassed...”

She took his hand. “No need to be,” she said. “I love every part of you.” She noticed that, now that his cock had softened and shrivelled back to its former self, it did not look particularly misshapen.

Nathan pulled his underwear back on. “Want to lie down with me for a bit?” he asked.

“Sure!” she said. She lay down next to him, snuggling against his shoulder. A couple of minutes later, she heard his breathing deepen, and realised he had fallen asleep. She sighed. She was feeling horny, and frustrated. She wanted to go home and see Paul; he could certainly be relied upon to give her the attention she needed. And Nathan would not mind, surely...

After waiting a little longer, she stealthily got up, and eased herself off his bed. He stirred, but did not wake up. She quietly got dressed, then left Nathan’s room, closing the door behind her.

“How did it go?” Mack inquired with a grin. “Did the two of you finally...”

“No,” she sighed. “Nathan’s not quite ready yet.” Then she brightened. “But he wants to get married! Like, really soon! Basically as soon as we can arrange it.”

“Well that’s great news!” said Mack. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” said Emily, beaming.

Mack stood up, and walked towards her, spreading his arms. “Can I give the bride-to-be a hug?”

Emily blushed. “Sure,” she said, and she let him take her into his arms.

“Mmmm,” he said, reaching down to squeeze her buttocks through her skirt. “How about a kiss, too?”

Emily’s pulse quickened. “Um, okay,” she said. “Nathan would be fine with that.”

Mack pressed his lips to hers, and she responded, opening her mouth as Mack’s tongue pressed between her lips. As they swapped saliva, Mack lifted the back of her skirt up, then slid his hands down inside her panties. He massaged her buttocks for a few moments, then he pulled his face away from hers. “I want to stick my cock inside you again,” he whispered.

“Don’t be silly, Nathan’s here!” said Emily, but her pulse quickened at the idea.

Mack chuckled. “I know, I was just kidding,” he said. “Tomorrow, though?”

“Maybe,” said Emily. “I’m not making any promises though!”

Mack grinned, and released her. “Fair enough,” he said. “At least let me walk you home?”

“Sure,” said Emily. “Nathan’s fallen asleep, and I don’t want to disturb him.”

It was getting dark outside, and Emily was glad of Mack’s company. As they approached the Davises’ house, she said, “Thank you for accompanying me, Mack.”

“You’re welcome!” he replied. “I wouldn’t want you walking the streets alone. We could make this a regular thing if you like; I could be your official bodyguard.”

Emily laughed. “If you want,” she said. “I’ve never had a bodyguard before!” She stopped, and turned towards him. “Goodnight, Mack.”

“Goodnight Emily,” he replied.

Emily entered the house, and found Jacob and Mary in the living room. “Hi, I’m home,” she said.

“Emily!” said Mary happily. “How was your band practice?”

“It was good!” said Emily. “There was a guy – a friend of Brian’s – who recorded sound and video while we played our songs. I think we’ll be on YouTube soon!”

“Oh, very nice!” said Jacob. “I’ll look forward to seeing that.”

“Me too!” Mary agreed. “Now take off your clothes, dear – remember the new rule.”

“Oh yes!” said Emily hastily. “Sorry. I’ll just run upstairs and ... unless you want me to undress here...?”

“Upstairs is fine,” Jacob assured her. “Although...” He turned to Mary. “Are we really going to enforce this? What about Enis?”

“Oh yes,” said Mary, momentarily disconcerted. “Well ... either it’s a rule or it isn’t. We can’t be wishy-washy about it. And Enis ... well I’m sure it’ll make his entire year...”

“Enis – Paul’s friend?” Emily asked. “He’s here?”

“Yes, he’s in Paul’s room; they’re playing video games, of course,” said Jacob. “But I don’t feel like we can insist on showing a complete stranger your naked body...”

“I’m pretty sure Emily can handle it,” said Mary, regarding Emily astutely. “But what do you think, Emily?”

Emily bit her lip. “The thought makes me a little nervous,” she said, “but I’m sure Paul will keep me safe. And I wouldn’t want to break the rules...”

“There, you see?” said Mary to her husband. “Run along and get undressed, then, dear – and then go and say hello to Paul and Enis.”

Emily nodded, and headed upstairs with her bag. Setting it down next to her bed, she took off her clothes, then walked across the landing to Paul’s room. Biting her lip, she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” said Paul.

Emily entered, blushing to the roots of her hair. “Hi Paul,” she said. “Um ... and you must be Enis. Hello – it’s nice to meet you.”

Both of the teenaged boys sitting on Paul’s bed stared at her. Paul quickly grinned. “See, Enis, what did I tell you? I’m living with the sexiest woman on the planet!”

Enis was not a good-looking boy. He was thin – scrawny, even – with bulging eyes that were a little too wide apart, and seemed to look in different directions. His nose looked as if it had been squished from top to bottom, and was so up-turned that Emily could practically see up his nostrils. His forehead was hidden by a mass of dark, wiry hair that was peppered with bits of dandruff. His cheeks were a mass of acne – far worse even than Paul’s. He had almost no chin, and his teeth were large, crooked, and yellow. Emily had to suppress a shudder, just looking at him. But she immediately felt sorry for him; this was clearly a boy with poor romantic prospects.

A look of pure joy had come over the boy’s unfortunate face, however. “Wow, dude, I didn’t believe you! But Jesus! Uh ... what do I do?”

“Say hi to her, you moron,” said Paul, amused.

“Oh yeah ... hi Emily!” said Enis with a big smile. A smile like this might reasonably be expected to improve the attractiveness of a person; not so with Enis, unfortunately, since it showcased his ghastly teeth. In any case the smile rapidly became a leer, as his eyes roamed up and down Emily’s body.

“Do you want to play a game with us?” Paul inquired, gesturing at his television.

“No, it’s getting kind of late,” said Emily, feeling a little creeped out by Enis’s bug-eyed staring. “I think I might just get ready for bed.”

“Oh,” said Paul, looking crestfallen. “Do I still get a goodnight kiss?”

“Of course!” said Emily, who had been looking forward to it.

Paul grinned. “Okay!” he said. “Enis didn’t believe that I get to kiss you and ... you know, do other things...”

“Ugh, Paul, you told him all that...?” asked Emily in exasperation.

“Of course!” said Paul in surprise. “He’s my best friend, and what you and I do is ... amazing! How could I not tell him about it?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else,” Enis assured Emily.

“I was hoping,” said Paul hesitantly, “you might be willing to let Enis ... watch...?”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Really, Paul? Wouldn’t you rather do that in private?”

Paul grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know, I thought it might be kinda fun. And it’ll be a nice treat for Enis.”

Emily shivered. “I guess,” she said generously, “if that’s what you want, I don’t mind him watching...”

“Awesome!” said both boys together.

“First, though, I need to take a shower,” said Emily, “and get ready for bed.”

“Okay!” said Paul. “We’ll be waiting!”

Emily went to the bathroom, showered, and shaved. Looking herself over in the mirror, she was pleased to see that her mosquito bites had faded away almost entirely. Certainly it did not seem as if Paul and Enis had noticed them, though there were still faint traces here and there.

Having brushed her teeth, she returned to Paul’s bedroom, nervous about what might happen in the next few minutes. To what extent would Enis be willing to simply watch, rather than join in? Should she let him kiss her? He was, after all, a perfect example of the kind of boy Nathan would be happy for her to kiss. He was quite spectacularly unattractive, and therefore no threat to Nathan at all.

But was Nathan assuming that there was no way she could possibly enjoy kissing an ugly boy or man? That would certainly seem like a reasonable assumption ... but why, then, were her loins getting decidedly tingly at the idea?

She entered the room, smiling shyly, but doing nothing to cover her nudity. “How do you want me?” she asked Paul.

“On my bed, on your back,” Paul suggested cheerfully. Apparently he meant to get right down to business.

“Wow,” breathed Enis, his eyes wide with wonder, as Emily readily complied. “She just does what you tell her?”

“Dude, it’s not like that!” said Paul in some exasperation. “I ask, I don’t ‘tell’. Emily does what she wants.”

“Huh,” said Enis, looking confused. “So she ... she wants to kiss you and stuff?”

Paul shrugged helplessly, and looked to Emily for support. “I ... I guess...?”

“Paul’s a nice kisser,” said Emily generously. “And my fiancé doesn’t mind, so I’m happy to kiss Paul and ... and do other things.”

“Your fiancé’s a saint!” said Enis. “Do you think he’d let me kiss you too?”

Emily’s heart skipped a beat. “Um,” she said, “I think he very likely would.”

A look of pure joy and hope lit up Enis’s ugly face. “Ohh!” he gasped. “In that case ... may I...? Please?”

Emily glanced at Paul, who shrugged. “Sure,” she said, smiling generously. Lying back, she spread her arms. “Come here, Enis.”

Enis grinned, but his widening eyes showed a trace of panic. “Um … uh,” he said. “Maybe can I watch Paul do it first?”

The poor boy was clearly nervous about his first kiss. Emily smiled warmly at him. “Of course,” she said. “Paul…?”

Paul grinned, and hurriedly took off his clothes. As he climbed on top of Emily, his erection standing at attention, Enis gawked in amazement. “Dude, are you really going to … put that inside her…?”

“Yeah,” said Paul, his eyes flashing excitedly. “Watch.” He pulled Emily’s thighs apart, then looked at her face in sudden concern. “Is this … okay?”

Emily bit her lip, noting Enis’s unabashed devouring of her most intimate parts with his eyes. Then she nodded. “Put it in,” she said.

Paul shuffled in closer, moving his cock towards her vaginal opening, but then he stopped. “Oh – the baby oil! It’s still in your room.”

“We can manage without,” said Emily. “I can use my mouth to lubricate you.”

“Okay!” said Paul happily. He crawled up the bed until he could stick his erection into Emily’s mouth.

“Whoa!” whispered Enis, his eyes like saucers, watching the most beautiful girl he had ever seen casually sucking his best friend’s cock. “I can’t believe this! You’re so lucky, Paul!”

Paul laughed, and withdrew his cock. “The next part’s even better!” he said. He slid himself back down the bed, then lay on top of Emily. Pressing the head of his erection against her vaginal opening, he slowly pressed it inward. Emily’s vagina dilated to take him in, and little by little, his cock disappeared inside her.

“That’s … amazing!” Enis gasped.

Emily giggled. “Oh Paul, you feel so good inside me!” she said. “I do wish you would start thrusting. I so badly want you to fuck me!”

Paul grinned down at her. “Keep talking like that,” he said, “and I will.”

“Yes please!” she begged him. “I want you to. I want you to fuck me, and then cum inside me. I don’t care if it makes me pregnant.”

Paul shivered. “It’s so tempting!” he said. “I only have so much resolve, Emily.”

“What are you waiting for?” Enis demanded, almost beside himself with excitement. “She wants you to fuck her, dude!”

Paul chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, she does,” he said. “And she doesn’t. It’s complicated. She’s engaged to be married, and wants her fiancé, Nathan, to be the man who takes her virginity.”

“Takes her … what?” asked Enis in confusion.

“We figured that as long as I don’t thrust inside her, she’s still technically a virgin,” Paul explained. “We found a dictionary that supports that.”

“That … doesn’t seem correct,” said Enis doubtfully.

“Well it is!” said Emily firmly. “And Paul is very respectful of that. He knows that no matter how much I ask him to, he can’t actually … fuck me. He’s very good at keeping still, even when I beg and plead with him to start thrusting.”

Enis stared in amazement. “How do you have the willpower?” he asked in disbelief.

Paul shrugged. “I don’t want to ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. “Why would I do anything to hurt this beautiful woman that I … that I love with all my heart?”

“Awww Paul!” said Emily happily. “You’re so sweet. Give me a kiss.”

Paul eagerly pushed his tongue into her mouth, and Enis watched in fascination as the two of them kissed with every appearance of passion on both sides. A desperate longing took hold of him, and tears began to meander down the volcanic landscape of his cheeks. “Can I … please…” he said plaintively.

Paul and Emily pulled apart, and as Emily looked at Enis’s desperate expression, her heart melted for him. “What do you think, Paul? Are you willing to share me with your friend?”

Pursing his lips, Paul nodded. “If you’re willing … honestly, it’ll be his best day ever. He’s had a rough time. Rougher even than me – by far.”

Emily smiled. “I’d be honoured to bring a bit of sunshine into your life, Enis,” she said. “Why don’t you get naked, and come and give me a cuddle?”

Enis could hardly get out of his clothes fast enough. When he pulled down his underwear, his erection sprang up, and Emily regarded it with curiosity. It was about the same length as Paul’s, but a little thicker. It was circumcised, and its head was an offputtingly brownish-purple colour, looking as if it had taken a severe beating.

As Paul climbed off Emily, his erection slipping out of her, Enis eagerly took his friend’s place. “I … I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stammered, “so please be … be patient.”

“Of course,” said Emily, putting her hands gently on his shoulders. “Just try to relax. I’ll help you through this.”

“Are you going to let him … put it inside you?” asked Paul nervously. “Poor guy’s so wound up, he might cum immediately.”

Emily shivered. “That wouldn’t be good!” she said.

“I won’t cum!” said Enis, anxious not to lose this opportunity. “I’ll just … think unsexy thoughts, or something, if I need to.”

“It seems a shame to deprive you of the best part of the experience,” said Emily regretfully, “but maybe it would be too risky…”

“Please!” Enis begged. “I promise I won’t cum!”

“Only he knows how close he is,” Paul remarked. “He should have a little warning, at least.”

“Let’s try a kiss first,” said Emily, “and take it from there.”

Enis looked paralyzed; he puckered his lips, but did not dare to come too close to Emily.

“Close your eyes, Enis,” she instructed him. Then, when he did so, she pressed her lips against his. He uttered a little squeak, but then he opened his mouth a little, and hesitantly stuck his tongue out. Emily met it with hers, and as the two of them explored each other’s mouths, Enis seemed to grow in confidence. He placed one hand on Emily’s breast, and began to squeeze it quite roughly.

“Steady on, dude,” Paul admonished him. “Be gentle.”

“It’s okay,” said Emily, breaking the kiss briefly. “I can take it. I’ll let you know if it hurts.”

Enis resumed kissing her, hungrily, while his hand kneading her breast and his cock, swollen and rigid with desire, nudged against Emily’s pussy. She reached down, grasped it, and guided it to her opening, which was already slick with her juices. Enis needed no further encouragement; he drove it inward, and it slid deep, until its bulbous head came to rest against Emily’s cervix.

“Oh, that feels so good, Enis!” Emily gasped.

“For me too!” said Enis excitedly. “Thank you, Emily! This is the greatest day of my life!”

Emily smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said. Then, as he began to withdraw his penis, she added, “You don’t have to pull out yet, you know.”

“Oh,” he said gratefully, sliding back in.

Emily uttered a little moan, and ground her pelvis against his.

Enis grinned. “You liked that?” He withdrew a couple of inches again, and then slid in up to the hilt.

“Ahhh!” Emily gasped. “Wait…”

But Enis had already pulled partially out and slid back in again. “No thrusting!” said Paul urgently.

“This isn’t thrusting,” said Enis, easing himself out and then in again. “Thrusting would be harder and faster than this. I’m just slowly moving in and out. Oh God – it feels amazing!”

“It does feel good,” Emily admitted, though she was feeling very anxious about whether or not this counted as having sex. “Are you sure this isn’t thrusting? What do you think, Paul?”

Paul felt an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Enis’s cock sliding in and out of Emily’s vagina. “I don’t know,” he said dubiously. “To me it looks awfully like you’re having sex…”

“Stop, Enis!” said Emily, panicking. As charitable as she was feeling towards this ugly young man, she very much did not want to lose her virginity to him! But what if she just had…?

Enis stiffened, then relaxed. “All right,” he said, “I’m pulling out.” He withdrew his cock, covering it with one hand as he climbed off Emily. “Sorry if I, uh, went a little far there. It was just so exciting!” He retrieved his underwear and put it back on.

Emily closed her legs, looking worried. “Do you think I’m still a virgin, Paul?”

Paul looked troubled. “Honestly?” he said.

“Honestly!” said Emily.

Paul sighed. “No,” he said. “I’m sorry, Emily, I think that line just got crossed. We could just about justify that you were a virgin before … but not anymore.”

“Oh no!” Emily groaned. “I shouldn’t have let him put his cock in me. I’m so stupid!”

“I’m sorry!” said Enis. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Enis, I think you should go,” said Paul quietly.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Enis anxiously. “I’m really sorry!”

Paul shook his head. “No, I’m not mad at you. Mad at myself, more like. I should have known it was a bad idea. I did know … deep down.”

“Me too!” Emily groaned, sitting up and hugging her knees. “I’m not mad at you either, Enis. But I’m upset! I’ve ruined everything!”

Enis quickly finished getting dressed. “I’ll … I’ll just get out of your way,” he said. Then he hurried out of the room, and they heard him trotting down the stairs.

“I’m such a fool!” said Emily in despair. “I’m going to have to tell Nathan about this! What if he leaves me?”

“Then he’ll be an idiot,” said Paul. “And I’ll be begging you to marry me instead. But honestly … I think he’ll forgive you.”

“Really?” asked Emily hopefully. “You think there’s a chance of that? If someone other than him has taken my virginity?”

Paul nodded. “It’s obvious he loves the idea of you messing around with other men,” he said. “Particularly if they’re unattractive. The thought that you lost your virginity to the ugliest kid on the planet might very well appeal to him.”

“I don’t know,” said Emily unhappily. “I’m not so sure.”

Paul sat down next to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. “I am,” he said. “Emily, you might not see it, but you’re way above Nathan’s league. The fact that you allow me to put my cock inside you just blows my mind. I know I’m a few leagues below Nathan, but even I can tell that he doesn’t deserve you. There’s absolutely no way he’s going to dump you. Where else is he going to find a woman like you? Nowhere. He might get a bit upset at you, but he’ll also totally blame himself for pushing you to fool around with other men. Trust me; he’s not going to dump you.”

“You really think so?” asked Emily gratefully.

“I’d bet money on it,” said Paul firmly. “A lot of money.”

“Oh, I hope you’re right,” said Emily, leaning her head against his shoulder. She sighed. “You’re a great friend, Paul.”

He chuckled. “Well, that’s something, I suppose.”

“I know you want more…” said Emily.

“Oh hush,” he interrupted her. “You don’t need to keep reminding me of my place. I know. I’m just happy to have this much of you. It’s more than I could ever have hoped for.”

Emily said nothing. Then she bit her lip. “Paul … since I’m not a virgin anymore … do you want to … you know … have sex with me? For real?”

Paul’s eyes widened. “With … thrusting?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “With thrusting. You can … thrust as hard and fast as you like. It doesn’t matter now.”

In answer, Paul turned towards her, and kissed her. Then, pushing her back down on to the bed, he climbed on top of her, positioned his cock between her legs, and found the entrance to her vagina. Easing himself into her, he began gently thrusting his cock inside her.

“Oh Paul!” Emily gasped. “Fuck me. I want it. I need it. Fuck me hard.”

Paul began to increase the pace and intensity of his thrusting. The inside of her vagina felt surprisingly slippery – more so than the first time he had entered her this evening. But he scarcely gave this any thought as he fucked Emily harder and harder.

“Ohhh! Ohhh!” cried Emily, adoring this incredible sensation. “I love this! I love this! And I love you, Paul! Fuck me!”

“I’m getting close!” Paul panted. “Can I cum inside you?”

“No!” squealed Emily. “Please don’t – hopefully Nathan can forgive me losing my virginity to another man – or boy – but I can’t let myself get pregnant by anyone but him! He’d dump me then for sure!”

“Okay, I’ll pull out in time,” Paul assured her. “But can you beg me to cum inside you anyway?”

“Oh yes…” Emily’s whole body was flushed with arousal. “Cum inside me, Paul. Make me yours. Plant a baby inside me. Your baby. Fill my womb with your sperm. Make me pregnant – Nathan will dump me for sure, and I’ll be all yours…” She had wrapped her legs around his back, and was now gripping him tightly and pulling him against her as he fucked her with powerful strokes. “Ohhhh!!!! Ohhhh!!!” She was nearing her orgasm.

But her words had sent Paul over the edge. He frantically tried to pull out as semen erupted from the end of his cock, but her legs around his middle pulled him back in again, and spurt after spurt shot deep into her vagina, slathering her cervical opening. “Oh crap!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry! I tried … I couldn’t pull out in time!”

“Ahhh!” Emily cried out, horrified. “Seriously? You came inside me?” She released her grip on his torso, uncrossing her legs behind him. “Oh – I was holding you too tight!”

Paul pulled out, semen now merely oozing from his cock. More was seeping out of Emily’s vagina. “Oh heck,” he muttered, though secretly he could not help feeling a little thrilled.

Emily jumped to her feet, her hand tucked between her legs. “I felt it!” she groaned. “I felt the moment of your climax, Paul. But you want to know what’s worse?”

“What?” asked Paul.

“I felt the same thing with Enis!” said Emily despairingly. “Just before he pulled out. I wondered about it, but hoped I was just being paranoid. But now I’m sure. Enis came inside me too!”

“Ugh!” said Paul. “I did wonder why you were so … wet, inside. Like, super slippery. Yuck! That must have been his cum!”

Emily put her face in her hands. “I have to go!” she said. “I have to leave this house. I’m sorry, Paul – it’s all gone horribly wrong. I don’t blame you for anything – this is all my fault – but I have to get away from you! I’m sorry.” She rushed out of the room, crying.

“Emily!” Paul called after her, in an anguished voice. He wanted to follow her, but decided she probably needed to be alone for a while. He punched his leg in anger. “Stupid!” he scolded himself. “Stupid idiot! You blew everything!”

Emily shut herself in her room, threw herself on her bed, and sobbed into her pillow. But only a few seconds later, she heard a knock on her door. “Go away, Paul!” she said.

“It’s me,” said Mary. “Can I come in, please?”

“Oh!” Emily sat up, and hastily dried her eyes. “Just a moment.” She struggled to compose herself, flapping her hands in front of her face. “Okay, come in.”

Mary entered, closed the door behind her, and quietly walked over and sat down next to Emily. “My dear, I think perhaps you and I need to talk,” she said.

Her tone was so gentle, and so calm, and so understanding, that Emily burst into tears again. “Mary, I’m so sorry!” she said. “I’ve ruined everything!”

“Hush,” said Mary softly, pulling Emily into her arms. “Surely it’s not as bad as that? Tell me what happened. Perhaps I can help.”

Emily uttered muffled sobs into Mary’s shoulder. “I doubt it,” she said indistinctly. Then, after an attempt to compose herself, she sat up straight. “You’re going to think me a terrible person,” she said sadly.

“Try me,” said Mary. “I think we both know that you’re nothing of the sort, so forgive me for being sceptical. But everyone makes mistakes, and if you’ve made one, then let’s hear it, so we can deal with it.”

Emily bit her lip. “I …. I had sex with Paul,” she said.

Mary’s heart almost burst with happiness, but she hid her elation well. “That’s not much of a surprise,” she said softly. “I confess I saw it coming.”

“You did?” asked Emily. “Oh. Well … I guess you’re smarter than I am. I had hoped to hold out for Nathan! But…” Her face crumpled, and she began to cry again. “I … I felt sorry for Enis!”

“Enis?” Mary inquired. “Surely you didn’t…”

“I did!” Emily wailed. “I let him kiss me and put his cock in me … which is what I’ve been letting Paul do … and I figured it would be okay as long as he didn’t start thrusting! Paul and I found a dictionary which supported the position that I was still a virgin, even after he put his cock all the way inside me, if he didn’t actually thrust inside me. Because it’s not actually sex if there’s no thrusting, right…?”

“That’s a bit of a stretch,” said Mary. “But okay…”

“Well it’s academic now,” said Emily, “because Enis did thrust! He said it didn’t count as thrusting, because he was moving slowly, but I couldn’t help feeling that it did. And Paul agreed. So I’m definitely not a virgin now. And it was Enis that took my virginity! It was supposed to be Nathan, but if it had to be someone else, I’d much rather it had been Paul!”

“It sounds to me,” said Mary, “like you’ve been playing with fire, and deliberately getting closer and closer to it. And you’re surprised you’ve got burned?”

“I know!” Emily groaned. “I’ve been stupid. I’ve been so … almost intoxicated, I guess … by the thrill of these goodnight kisses and the playing that’s gone along with them. It was so exciting to feel Paul inside me and beg him to … to thrust in me, and cum inside me, and make a baby in me … while trusting that he wouldn’t do that.”

“My goodness, Emily!” said Mary, wide-eyed. “How strong did you think his willpower was?”

“Very strong!” said Emily. “It wasn’t Paul that let me down. And I can’t really blame Enis. I should never have let him enter me. He’s clearly not as principled as Paul.”

“I see,” said Mary.

“But there’s more,” said Emily miserably. “After Enis left, I figured that since I wasn’t a virgin anymore, Paul and I might as well have proper sex. We’d been coming so close recently, and both of us were so desperate for it! So we did … but then – and this is my fault entirely, because Paul would have definitely pulled out in time if I hadn’t been holding on to him so tightly – he came inside me!” She put her face in her hands again. “I’m going to get pregnant – I just know it!”

Mary stroked her hair. “Well I’m not going to give you a hard time about that,” she said gently, “because you’re clearly beating yourself up enough anyway. But if you do get pregnant with Paul’s baby … what will you do?”

Emily swallowed. “Mary, I know you want me to get together with Paul, and probably wouldn’t be heartbroken if I did have his baby, but…”

“I know,” said Mary sympathetically. “You love Nathan, and…”

“Well yes,” said Emily, “that’s obviously a big part of it. But Mary … when Paul came inside me, I realised that Enis did too! I felt it … the moment it happened. And I felt the same thing with Enis.”

“Oh my goodness!” said Mary, shocked.

“So now I have the semen of two boys in me!” Emily groaned. “And neither of them is my fiancé!”

Mary pursed her lips. “Emily, as a Robertine, I can’t sanction you taking a morning-after pill…”

“I wouldn’t do that anyway,” said Emily earnestly. “Life is sacred.”

Mary nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. But perhaps we can still avert disaster. We can try to flush the sperm out of you before it has a chance to fertilise one of your eggs.”

“Oh!” said Emily eagerly. “Like, with a turkey baster or something?”

“Hmm, yes!” said Mary. “That would work very well, I think. But we have to do it quickly. Go and start running some warm water into the bath; I’ll run and fetch the baster.”

Emily nodded. “Okay!”

She hurried into the bathroom, put the plug in, and turned on the hot and cold taps. When about half an inch of water was in the tub, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” said Emily.

Mary entered. “Here you go,” she said, holding out the baster.

Emily took it, her expression one of uncertainty as she recalled Harry doing this for her. “I … I suppose I can do it myself…”

“Oh!” said Mary. “Did you want me to help?”

“No – it’s fine,” said Emily quickly. “For some reason I was kind of expecting that you would be flushing me out – but of course I can do it myself.”

Mary regarded the baster thoughtfully. “I’d be happy to do it for you, if you want,” she said.

Emily hesitated. On the one hand, she felt she could probably manage on her own. On the other hand, if this did not work, she would be haunted by the possibility that she had somehow done it wrongly. Mary, she was sure, would be likely to do a better job, and she wanted this to be done as perfectly as possible. If anyone could ensure that all of the sperm was flushed out of her, it was Mary. “If you wouldn’t mind,” she said awkwardly. “I know it’s a lot to ask. I just feel like you’d probably do a better job of it…”

“Of course!” said Mary, kneeling down next to the bath and reaching into it with the turkey baster. She submerged the baster, squeezed the bulb, released, squeezed again … and soon she had filled it with warm water. “All right dear,” she said. “This will work best if you stand up in the tub, I think, with your legs apart.”

Emily stepped into the deep end of the bathtub, and stood with her feet about twenty inches apart. Mary reached up with the baster, pointed end upwards, and gently nudged it into Emily’s vaginal opening. Lubricated by semen, it slid in easily. Inserting it deep, but very carefully, Mary gave the bulb a good squeeze, making Emily gasp. At once, a milky mix of water and semen gushed out around the outside of the baster.

Mary now realised that the semen was now going straight into the water that she would have to use to refill the baster. This was an unfortunate miscalculation, but she was careful to refill it from the other end of the bath, where the water was still perfectly clean. Reinserting it into Emily’s vagina, she squeezed again, and this time the water that came out was clean. Looked clean, at least – it probably still contained some sperm.

Just to be sure, Mary rinsed Emily out a third time, using more clean water from the shallow end of the bath. “There,” she said briskly. “I think we’ve done about all we can to minimize the chances of you getting pregnant. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes,” said Emily in a subdued voice. She climbed out of the bath, and fetched her towel. “Thank you very much – I feel a bit better now.” She paused, and tears came to her eyes. “Mary, you’ve been so kind to me, and I’ve loved staying here with you … but I think I need to move out. Obviously, Paul and I have become way too close, and apparently I can’t be trusted to exercise good judgment around him. I don’t want to hurt him – I care about him very much – and staying here is just going to hurt him in the long run when I inevitably have to leave to be with Nathan.”

Mary pursed her lips. “I see,” she said. “Well I think that would be a terrible shame, Emily. I’ve come to regard you as a daughter, and both Jacob and I … well, we’ve loved having you here. Of course Paul’s besotted with you. We would all really like you to stay…”

“But I can’t!” Emily wailed. “I’ve betrayed Nathan! I have to tell him. And I can’t go on living with the boy I betrayed him with!”

Mary nodded. “I understand, Emily. You’re feeling guilty, and want to make things right. But are you sure that in attempting to do so, you’re not going to make things worse instead?”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked.

“Normally I’d say that honesty is the best policy,” Mary continued. “But in this case, I’m not sure that’s true. Think about what’s best for Nathan. Is it for him to stay with you, or break up with you?”

“I’d have said ‘stay with me’,” said Emily, “except that now I’m not so sure! I seem to have become a very bad fiancée!”

“Bad?” Mary inquired. “If by that you mean unfaithful, then again, normally I’d say that that’s true. But Nathan likes you fooling around with Paul, doesn’t he?”

“Not this much!” Emily groaned.

“Hmm,” said Mary. “Maybe. But would you have gone so far with Paul if Nathan hadn’t encouraged you to do more with him?”

“No,” Emily admitted. “Probably not.”

“Then it’s at least partly Nathan’s fault,” said Mary. “And I suspect he’d be the first to admit it. And if he ends your engagement because you had sex with Paul, he’ll be doing so purely out of injured pride, not because he’s particularly opposed to what you did. I know his type, Emily. Once the two of you are married, he’ll be pushing you to have sex with other men.”

Emily bit her lip. “That’s … occurred to me too,” she said. “But we’re not married yet. I do think he has the right to expect our first time to be with each other.”

Mary shrugged. “I’m not saying that what you did wasn’t wrong, Emily. But you’re human, and humans are fallible creatures. With Nathan encouraging you to be naughty with Paul, and teenage hormones being what they are, it’s not entirely surprising that this happened. And I think it will impact your relationship with Nathan less than you fear. The two of you can still have a happy marriage.

“I hope so,” sighed Emily. “I actually wanted to ask Jacob if he would marry us – as soon as possible. Nathan told me today he wants us to go ahead and take the plunge. Not wait any more than we have to.”

“Oh!” said Mary. “Well I’m sure Jacob would love to do that. But please, Emily – won’t you stay here in the meantime? You’ve had a sharp wake-up call; I doubt you’ll be making the same mistake again.”

Emily shrugged. “I suppose it’ll depend on Nathan,” she said. “At this point I don’t know whether he’ll break up with me or forgive me.”

“What if you don’t tell him?” Mary suggested.

Emily gaped at her. “How can I not?” she asked. “Didn’t you say honesty is the best policy?”

“I said normally it is,” said Mary. “I’m not convinced it is in this case. I don’t believe that you having sex with Paul will be fatal to your relationship with Nathan … but Nathan knowing about it might be. He might feel like the insult to his dignity is too great … even if deep down he loves the idea. He might break up with you on principle, ruining his own chance at happiness … and yours. Years from now, when he’s watching in delight as you have sex with one of his friends, and you tell him that your first time was actually with Paul, he’ll probably love it. I just think that now is maybe not the best time to confess. Not if you truly want to marry him.”

“I do!” said Emily desperately. “But … I can’t keep lying to him!”

“Do you need to lie?” Mary inquired. “Just … don’t tell him what you did with Paul. If he asks you straight out whether you and Paul had sex, then obviously you’ll have to tell him. But unless he does … maybe it would be best not to volunteer that information? After all … it wouldn’t be the first thing you’ve kept from him, right?”

Emily blushed, and hung her head.

“I thought so,” said Mary. “You haven’t yet told him about the oral sex, or the fingering?”

Emily said nothing.

“How about the panty-pooping?” asked Mary. “Does he know about that?”

“No,” Emily confessed.

“You should tell him about that, at least,” said Mary. “You haven’t exactly been discreet about it. He’s bound to find out sooner or later.”

“You think I should tell him about that … but not about having sex with Paul?” asked Emily, her brow furrowed.

Mary nodded. “Better he hear about your fetish from you than from someone else,” she said. “As for having sex with Enis and Paul … you’ll need to pick the right time for that revelation. And I suspect that that time will be after he tells you he wants you to have sex with other men.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Emily fretted.

“Then you may have to keep it a secret forever,” said Mary. “But I don’t think that’s likely. In fact I think it’ll happen sooner rather than later, but probably not until he’s has sex with you himself. Which will most likely be on your wedding night. If you seriously want to marry the man, do it quickly, before you let your hormones get the better of you again.”

Emily nodded. “And Paul…?”

Mary sighed. “Well, as his mother, I want the best for him. And what he wants is you. As long as you’re honest with him about where he stands with you, I don’t see why you can’t go on indulging him for a while.”

Emily looked shocked. “Even after … this? What if he wants to have sex again?”

“I’m sure he will,” said Mary.

Emily’s cheeks flushed. “What if he … persuades me…”

Mary smirked. “Perhaps I should leave the turkey baster in here.”

Emily gasped. “Do you seriously mean you want me to have sex with Paul again?”

“Only if you want to, dear,” said Mary. “That’s between you and your conscience. But it wouldn’t break my heart to see you continue to make my son happy, for as long as you’re staying here.”

Emily’s expression was troubled. “I don’t know, Mary. I don’t think I can do that to Nathan. “Maybe … maybe I can postpone telling him that I had sex with Paul and Enis, for a little while. But if I continue to have sex with Paul … what does that make me?”

“Unfaithful,” said Mary. “Which you are anyway. And Nathan wants you to be – to a certain extent at least. You just have to decide whether having sex with Paul again is really going to make much more of a difference to your relationship with Nathan, in the long run. I would suggest that the damage, if there is any, is already done.”

“Oh, I’m so confused!” Emily groaned. “And conflicted!”

“My advice, dear,” said Mary kindly, “is to sleep on it. Don’t make any rash decisions. Perhaps if you and Paul go running again tomorrow, the two of you can talk it over.”

Emily nodded. “Okay, I will,” she said. “Well, I’d better get to bed.”

“One question, before you do,” said Mary. “May I ask when your last period was?”

Emily blushed. Then she counted on her fingers. “Um, it finished last Monday, so … nine days ago. It started about five days before that.”

“So, day 14,” said Mary, chuckling and shaking her head. “You could hardly have picked a worse time to have sex, could you? Oh well, let’s hope we got it all out of you. Fingers crossed!”

“Fingers crossed,” Emily repeated fervently. “Goodnight, Mary.”

“Goodnight dear.”

Emily went to her bedroom, shut the door, and climbed into bed. For a long while she lay awake, tormented by guilt and uncertainty. Saying her prayers – in particular asking for forgiveness for her sins and guidance in her future decisions – helped her to feel a little better, and eventually she slipped into a troubled sleep.

DAY 10 – THURSDAY

A kiss on the lips woke her up. “Good morning, Emily,” said Paul softly.

Memories of last night flooded into her mind. “Paul,” she said. “You should knock before coming in!” Then she felt his hand on her pussy, gently rubbing. “Stop that! We need to talk about what happened last night, not try to repeat it!”

Paul withdrew his hand. “Okay, let’s talk,” he said.

“Not now,” said Emily irritably. “I just woke up! We’ll talk after our run.”

“Oh – we’re running?” asked Paul, without enthusiasm.

“Yes. We walked yesterday,” said Emily. “I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”

Paul took this as a dismissal, and left the room. Emily sighed, rubbed her eyes, and got out of bed. Putting on her sports bra and a pair of her new panties from Mr Howell’s shop, she slipped her feet into her sneakers, and headed downstairs. As she entered the living room, looking for Paul, she rubbed her abdomen; she badly needed to empty her bowels.

He was not there, but she heard him trotting down the stairs. He stuck his head into the living room, and gave her a worried-looking smile. “Are you … okay?” he asked.

Emily sat down on the sofa. “Not really,” she said. “Perhaps we should talk first, and then run.”

Paul nodded, and sat down next to her. “Last night was the best night of my life, Emily,” he said. “I know it wasn’t for you, and I’m sorry. I can’t tell you I regret it, because that would be a lie. But I’m very sorry if … if it’s made you hate me.”

“Goodness, Paul, I don’t hate you!” said Emily in surprise. “Far from it! I’m not even mad at you for cumming inside me. I blame myself, for not being stronger and more responsible. I did freak out about maybe getting pregnant, but your mom helped me take care of that…”

“Oh?” said Paul. “How…?”

“She flushed me out with a turkey baster filled with water,” said Emily tersely. “It wasn’t my favourite experience, but it did give us a chance to talk.”

“Was she … mad?” asked Paul nervously.

“Not really, no,” said Emily. “She actually wants me to keep having sex with you.”

“Awesome!” said Paul happily.

“Don’t get too excited!” Emily cautioned him. “We can’t let that happen. I can’t betray Nathan again. I came very close to packing up and leaving, to be honest, but your mom persuaded me not to make any hasty decisions.” She sighed. “She also kind of persuaded me not to tell Nathan about … what we did. But how can I keep this from him? He deserves to know!”

“I agree with you,” said Paul. “I think you should tell him.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “Why – so he’ll dump me and you think then I’ll be yours?”

Paul blushed. “Of course not;” he said unconvincingly. “I just think it’s not fair to him to keep this from him.”

“Hmm,” said Emily. “That’s true of course. But I have to consider whether or not telling him now would do more harm than good. I suppose I need to think about it some more.”

“In the meantime,” said Paul, “will you try to just let go of it, and enjoy our run together?”

She sighed. “Sure,” she said. “Let’s run.”

“Do you have to wear that thing, though?” Paul asked, indicating her sports bra. “Yesterday’s top was so much more exciting!”

Emily pursed her lips. “Paul, I need a garment that holds my breasts in place, at least somewhat. If I let them bounce around freely while running, I could seriously damage them. You wouldn’t want them to start sagging prematurely, would you?”

“No!” said Paul fervently. “Absolutely not. But … do you have nothing else that would do the job that isn’t so … sturdy…?”

“Sturdy is exactly what’s needed to do the job!” said Emily. But then she remembered the white top she had bought from Mr Howell yesterday. “Actually, I do have a new top that might work … and I think you’ll love it…”

“Okay?” said Paul. “Well, can you try it…?”

Emily hesitated, then nodded. She was actually curious about how well it would support her while running. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go and change.”

She went back upstairs to her bedroom, where she took off the sports bra and put on the new top. Looking at herself in the mirror, she almost misgave; she had forgotten just how sheer it was. Her breasts were very clearly visible through the gauzy fabric; she might as well be topless. And yet, when she tried a few experimental bounces on the spot, she found that the tightness of the garment kept her breasts in place surprisingly well.

She returned to the living room.

“Wow!” Paul gasped. “I love that top! Will it really work? You know, to hold…”

“Yes, I think so,” said Emily. “Let’s try it, and see. But we’re not going back to the Dunkin Donuts! Or even that crossroads. Yesterday wasn’t fun; I don’t like being seen by that many people, especially in messy panties.”

“Awww come on,” said Paul with a smirk. “It was a little fun, admit it.”

“It was stressful!” said Emily. “Let’s just stick to the trail, please.”

“All right, fine.” said Paul. “Whatever you want.”

They set off. Emily felt very exposed, but once they started running, she was very pleased about well her top kept her breasts under control. They still bounced around in a distracting and eye-catching way, but not enough to become painful or to get her worrying that she was damaging her ligaments. This top, in fact, was very nearly as effective at supporting her breasts as her sports bra.

Emily and Paul passed two very wide-eyed joggers before they reached the woodland, where Emily felt a little safer. At the one-mile mark, they slowed to a halt.

“Oh my gosh!” gasped Paul, drenched with sweat. “I made it!”

“Well done!” Emily congratulated him. “I’m proud of you.”

“Can I … have a reward?” Paul panted, looking hopeful.

She regarded him warily. “What kind of reward? No sex!”

Paul grinned sheepishly. “Maybe just … a topless blowjob?”

Emily folded her arms. “I don’t think so, Paul,” she said. “I mean, I don’t mind taking off my top out here – you know I enjoy being naughty in that way – but I don’t think I should let you put your cock inside me anymore.”

“What difference will one more blowjob make?” asked Paul. “It’s not like you’re going to confess to Nathan that we had sex, and what bothers him most is the blowjob you gave me the next day, is it? I think he’s going to be a bit more focused on the sex!”

“That’s no doubt true,” Emily conceded, “but it’s still something Nathan hasn’t given me permission to do. I want to confess to him first, and then, if we’re still together after that, figure out what I can and can’t do with other men.”

“Okay,” said Paul sadly. “But what if he says no blowjobs and no fingering? That’ll mean I’ve already done those things for the last time without knowing it, and I’ll never get to do them again. That’s kind of a heartbreaking thought.”

Emily regarded him sympathetically. This was actually a good point. She suspected Nathan would be okay with both blowjobs and fingering … but what if he was not? Had she already given her last blowjob to a man other than Nathan? Been fingered by another man for the last time? That would be quite a shame, if so…

“Perhaps,” she said hesitantly, “one more blowjob won’t make much difference…”

“Yay!” said Paul excitedly.

“And I want you to finger me at the same time,” said Emily.

“Okay!” Paul readily agreed.

They found a comfortable-looking patch of moss. Emily took off her top and laid it down, to go under her head and prevent bits from getting in her hair. Then, to give Paul easier access, she took off her panties too; Paul put them in his pocket. As she lay down, Paul lifted her by each ankle in turn, and took off her shoes. This did not seem necessary, but Emily felt a little thrill at being fully naked outdoors and in a place where joggers could pass by at any moment.

Paul now pulled down his shorts and boxers, and lay on his side next to Emily, positioning himself so that she could guide his cock into her mouth. “Ahhh,” he sighed, as she began sucking on him. Reaching for her pussy, he stroked it slowly for a moment, before pressing a finger between her labia, and sliding it downward to her vagina. She spread her thighs for him, eager to feel him probe inside her, and was immediately rewarded. Uttering muffled moans into his cock, she writhed her hips and ground her pelvis against Paul’s hand, encouraging him to fill her with his fingers.

He slid another inside her, and then another. Thrusting his three bunched-together middle fingers in and out of her, he gasped with pleasure as her mouth worked magic on his erection. Then, after little more than a minute, he spasmed, shuddering as semen fired out of his cock and into the back of Emily’s throat.

“Ohhhh...” he murmured, then, realising he had slackened off his pace, he resumed thrusting his fingers inside Emily’s vagina.

“Stop!” she said, after pulling her mouth off his cock. “I don’t want to have an orgasm just yet.”

“You don’t?” he inquired. “I assumed I’d be returning the favour…”

“I want to,” she admitted, “but it’ll take me out of the mood for panty-pooping … and I really want to poop in my panties.”

“Oh, okay,” said Paul, taking his fingers out of her. He got to his feet, pulling up his underwear and shorts, and then wiping his hand on the latter. He looked around. “No interruptions today!” he noted. “No spectators. I feel almost disappointed.”

Emily sat up, drawing her knees together. “I don’t mind not being seen,” she said. “I know a bit of risk is fun, but you never know when someone might come along who isn’t content to just take a look and carry on. It would be awful if something bad were to happen.”

“Yes,” Paul admitted. “All right – do you want to head back then? Or … have your poop first?”

Emily smiled as she got up and ran her hands up and down her back, brushing herself off. “I can wait a little longer,” she said. “I know you’re not into it.”

“I don’t mind it though,” said Paul. “Not too much. Particularly if I stand upwind of you.”

Emily flapped her top a few times, then pulled it back on. “I think I’ll go see Harry on the way back,” she said. “He likes to watch me poop.”

“Oh,” said Paul, looking a little disgruntled.

Emily came over and put her arms around him. “Give me a kiss, Paul,” she said.

He was happy to oblige. Then he gave her her panties back, and she put them on, followed by her shoes. At this moment a jogger passed by, staring excitedly at Emily but completely unaware of the show he had missed by just two minutes. He waved and smiled, but said nothing, and Emily waved back as he passed on down the trail.


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