1. Sundara - Part 2


    Date: 12/10/2014, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: blin18, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

    was well beyond the point of pulling down my hem and just left it pooled in my lap. With both feet on the floor again, I couldn’t tell whether he could see me or not, but he had almost given up just glancing at my sex and was openly staring as I continued to hold my legs open for him, panting and almost moaning with primal need while he tightened the laces. ~~~ Eventually he had both of them laced up to my thighs with perfect bows once again and I had to wait until he moved back and stood up before I accepted the frustrating truth that he wasn’t going to reach in and stroke my poor, engorged clitoris. “Be careful now Rupali,” he said, trying to hide the breathless excitement in his voice. “Those heels are very tricky if you are not used to them.” I folded my legs underneath me, making no effort to hold my hem even though – between the high heels and my long legs – my naked thighs were pointing almost straight up. Once again I took his hand to stand up and … Oh. My. Goodness! Belinda may be the Queen of Hot but I was the Goddess ; at six foot seven I now towered over Rajit and my lovely little Belinda was only as tall as my belly-button. My aching pussy could think of several good uses for someone at her level. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat as I did a slow turn, letting them bask in my magnificence while being careful not trip and fall on the enormous heels. “So what do you think?” I asked, waiting for the praise and superlatives to begin spilling from their mouths. ...
    Belinda was covering a smile with one hand. “Um, take a look in the mirror, Roops,” she said. I turned again and found the mirror, deflating like an old balloon at what I saw; the sexy bows at the top those gorgeous, sensuous boots were covered by the shapeless sack of my school dress. I was a mess of mixed messages; long, tight, laced leather boots exposing and accentuating the shape of my legs, but the soft womanly curves of my thighs, hips and breasts were lost in the decidedly unsexy square-cut pin-stripes of my school uniform. “Wait a minute,” Belinda said, rushing over to the sales counter. “I have an idea.” She came back brandishing a large office stapler and an even bigger smile. “Two minute makeover,” she said, approaching me with the stapler. “Oh, Blinny, I don’t kn…” “Who’s the Queen, Rupali?” Sigh. “You’re the Queen, Belinda.” “Who are you?” “Your obedient servent.” “You are going to let me do this.” Statement; not a question. “Could I stop you if I wanted to?” I asked, a smile creeping back onto my face. “Probably not, no,” she giggled and then got to work. First she folded the short sleeves inwards to make the dress sleeveless and then – working down each side from under my arms – she used the stapler to take in the bodice until it stretched tightly over my C-cups and flat stomach. Turning her attention to the skirt, she took in and stapled a huge amount of fabric, turning it from a modest shift into a slinky tube dress that clung to my hips and thighs. Finally, ...
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