Going Down in the Change Room

The last place Peter thought he’d get a blowjob was in the changing room of a closed lingerie boutique. The fact that he was in the changing room of a lingerie boutique while he received one, it turned out, was one of the least surprising part of the experience.

Firstly it was his face. It turned out that in Cindy’s store, once you opened the curtain to the changing room, the first thing that you saw was yourself. This was thanks to the full length mirror installed across the short hallway from each room. It was probably a great way for women to see the outfit they were considering, how it fit, how they looked. For Peter, though, all it did was remind him of the last stop of their shopping spree.

The salon Cindy had dragged him into, an upscale setup filled with women looking like they just stepped off a runway, was fully booked for the day. Not that the schedule mattered once they noticed who it was that Cindy had brought in with her.

“Oh! Of course we have time for you!” The woman at the reception said, aggressively crossing a name off the schedule, “I’m sorry Miss Ringer,” she called to a beautiful young woman in the waiting room, “we no longer have time for you today. We will have to reschedule.”

“But it’s my wedding day!” The young woman stood up with a crazed expression, “You can’t just…”

She paused, noticed Peter, then, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Of course I understand,” she walked over to Peter and said, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll do my own hair. You’re doing a great job, by the way.” And she left.

Staring at the mirror across from his changing room Peter couldn’t help but stare at his newly made-up face, despite the fact that he probably should have been focussed on the beautiful redhead between his knees. It was just that he hardly recognized himself. Sitting down in the he had no idea how far they were going to take it.

“Lay back,” the tall blonde had said, “we don’t have a lot of time and we’ve got lots of work to do.”

And so Peter complied, trusting that Cindy, his positive-energy shopping friend wouldn’t have led him astray. Once the hot wax began to be applied, Peter assumed it was a facial treatment, some sort hot of moisturizer, something to relax him.

And then they ripped it off.

“AAAAAAH!” He screamed, but the salon workers held him fast until every strip of wax was pulled from his skin.

Cheeks. Chin. Upper lip. Eyebrows. Soon his whole face felt like it was on fire. Released, Peter sat up and stared at his face. Not only were his cheeks red, not one whisker, not a hint of five o’clock shadow remained. His eyebrows, too, were perfectly shaped thin feminine brows that belonged more to the faces of the salon workers than himself.

But, staring at his reflection Cindy kissed her way up his spandex-clad thigh toward his penis, Peter acknowledged that it wasn’t just his facial hair that changed. Had those cheekbones always been there? Had his eyes always been that big? And what about his lips? Had they always been so lush?

Cindy grabbed Peter’s waistband and slowly slid his pink yoga pants down to his ankles, leaving him sitting in his panties.

Well, not just his panties.

That was another thing that was surprising about his first blowjob experience. Not only was he wearing a women’s workout outfit, but before they began Cindy insisted on something more.

“Put it on,” she said, tossing the pink push-up bra to him after she has relocked the sliding gate to her store, giving them privacy for his reward.

“A bra?” He said, catching the garment, “I don’t really need it. It’s not like I have anything to fill it.”

“Brittany,” she said, crossing her arms under her own sizeable breasts, “from what you’ve lead me to believe, you have quite the chest. And women like you don’t go traipsing around with their nipples out as if they want to direct traffic. Put it on.”

“Come on, Cindy,” Peter began to whine, “haven’t we done enough? I bought all the clothes, you waxed my face! Give me a break!”

“Unless you want to skip your little reward, little missy,” Cindy took a step closer, “you’d better smarten up and start listening. Put. It. On.”

Peter, of course, caved.

And so Peter was staring at his newly feminized face, wearing a push-up bra, when Cindy surprised him yet again.

“Ooh Brittany,” she said, pausing to lick his erection through his panties, “you’re so fucking hot. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve never thought this way about a woman before.”

Then she grabbed his panty clad erection and engulfed it in her eager mouth, underwear and all.

Immediately all thoughts of makeup, clothing, and PDAs vanished. Peter’s universe was his cock and Cindy’s mouth. He found himself holding onto the bench with one hand and Cindy’s hair with the other. Less for control, more for balance. He was inexperienced in oral sex, but what he was feeling was beyond anything he’d felt before.

The room spun. His breathing quickened. Everything felt frantic and still at the same time. Cindy was a maestro on her instrument, and her tongue was performing her magnum opus.

And then he came.

Into his panties.

Into her mouth.

Peter shook. Cindy sucked. Was this what heaven felt like?

He sat back as Cindy softly sucked on his spent cock, allowing it to slip from his mouth.

“Mmmm, Brittany baby,” Cindy said, licking her lips, “my first lesbian encounter was far yummier than I had anticipated.”

Peter was too overwhelmed to respond.

“It’s a good thing you bought fresh underwear earlier. I think these are ruined,” she touched the wet spot on his panties then brought it to her lips to suck off, then, “don’t relax too long. You still have to get changed. Your yoga class starts in about ten minutes and you’d better not be late.”

Peter shook himself out of the post-orgasmic bliss, immediately remembering the situation he had found himself in. Ten minutes. The studio was right around the corner, so he had time, but what did he know about yoga? What was he in for?