French Maid and School Girl

Alice was now attired in a breathtakingly racy French maid’s outfit. It was black, with white lace trim and a small white apron hanging from the tiny white belt circling her waist. Her breasts pressed against each other, the low-cut top barely covering her nipples and prominently displaying plump, rounded cleavage. The bottom hem of the dress flared away from her legs and barely covered her ass. Black garter straps were visible, holding the top of the fishnet stockings that now encased her legs. The exotic leg wear disappeared into the black high heels that now hugged Alice’s feet.

If possible, my outfit was even worse. I was dressed in a less exotic but equally slutty school girl outfit. My Catholic school skirt consisted of hot pink and white lines and barely covered my naked ass. My top was a small white button-up blouse knotted just below my boobs, baring my belly and barely covering my nipples. Hot pink ribbons circled the base of my pigtails now, and white knee socks covered my legs from the tops of my knees to my toes. Instead of Mary Janes, however, my feet were encased in hot pink high heels.

My cheeks burned. If there was a better way to make me look like a bimbo slut, I wasn’t aware of it.

“Oh, you poor thing,” said Alice.

“They’re dead,” I said, teeth clenched. “They are so dead.”

“Try to calm down a little,” said Alice. “You do look adorable, you know.”

I turned around, breath hissing through my teeth.

Alice held up her hands. “Just kidding!” she said. “I agree with you. They’re going down!”

“All right,” I said, trying to calm my racing heartbeat. “Let’s just get to class and we’ll take care of them after.”

Then our eyes widened as we realized our predicament.

“Omigod,” said Alice. “We can’t go to class looking like this!”

“We can’t miss this class!” I said, feeling the early onset of hyperventilation. “It’s the first week!”

We stared at each other, trying to come up with an inspiration and failing. Finally we turned and headed for the door, breasts bobbing at every step.

“Tara and Bit are so dead,” said Alice. “I can’t believe I’m going out in public dressed in a barely-there French maid outfit.”

“At least your outfit has panties,” I said, trying to tug my schoolgirl micro-skirt down.