Cue the montage

"I... I don't know about this Lucy..." you say, looking into the mirror.

"Well, apparently you prefer no bra at all, but there's definitely something to be said for keeping things covered a bit. It, like, accentuates and shit."

"Yeah, but..." you looked at your self, wearing a lacy black bra and matching panties that were so far in your ass it felt like a constant wedgie. In the corner was a few more sets that were very similar, but different colors. Purple, white, pink.

"You're clearly embarrassed, but I don't get why. Your body is rocking, girl. You just need to know how to show it off."

I don't want to show it off. That dickwad out there is making me do this.

"These should be good for now. You can grab more later. On to the next store?"

"Sure..." you said. It didn't really matter. Randy could waste his money, after today you weren't wearing any of this.

"That top looks great on you and really shows off your tits."

"Great," you say, looking down. The top is sleeveless with a plunging neckline that gives you insane cleavage. You have to admit, your tits do look good.

"If you've got it, flaunt it, right?"

"I guess..."

"A few more tops like that, some dresses. Your legs are good too. And your ass. You're, like, really hot."

"Thanks. I mean, you are too."

"Oh, stop!" Lucy said.

"You've never worn heels? You have to get some and practice!"

"Do I?" You asked, looking over the aisles of shoes.

"Totally! Come on, we'll find some good ones. You'll love them once you're used to them."

I sighed, realizing at this point there was no point in arguing. "Sure, okay. Lead the way."

I was self conscious as we walked through the food court. I was wearing a dress that barely covered my ass and left my tits practically hanging out. That it was pink was just insult on top of the injury to my already very wounded male pride. We found Randy and Bill at a table and Lucy rushed over to sit with Bill. She carried half of the 12 bags we had.

I sat next to Randy, and he turned to me. He put a hand on my leg and then leaned in to kiss me, forcing his tongue into my mouth as he did. I froze, and as he broke the kiss he stroked my leg. When he saw my face, he smiled. "What, can't I kiss my girlfriend?"

You took a deep breath and **** a smile. "Of course," you said.

"I got you a smoothie." He pushed a cup your way, and you eyes it suspiciously. Would he put something in it? Did he even need to? He had enough material to ruin you without weird **** or anything. Taking it, you sipped the drink. Strawberry, as far as you could tell.

"Thanks."

The three of them chatted with you interjecting once in a while, making it seem like you were involved in the conversation. Randy kept his hand on your leg, stroking it. Occasionally his hand would slip up higher, fingers coming perilously close to your panties. As much as you hated to admit it, it kind of turned you on. A purely physical reaction, you were sure.

After a bit, you all said your goodbyes and you followed Randy back to his car, climbing in. He looked at you with a grin. "So, we ready to move beyond handjobs?"

"How many times do you need to get off in a day?" you asked.

"As many as I can," he said, chuckling. "What do you say? We could head to my place if you want to go all in, or you could blow me on the way back to your place."

"Why can't I just jerk you off again?"

"Cause I just dropped a lot of money on clothes for you, babe." You grimaced. Confirmation of your earlier suspicion. The only question was, what to do?