ALICE Ch 337

Sasha’s muscular bodyguard draws a lot of stares as she stands outside the boutique in the sunlight. She looked more at home dressed as a member of FUTA’s pit crew than she does in her pantsuit. Inside the store, Sasha browses idly. She can buy whatever she pleases, but she has to be careful about what she wears in front of her mother. Their styles and preferences are so different. Sasha doesn’t mind the… exciting situations that arise from Irina’s approach to things. She’s not proud of it, but she looks forward to these little flings with people like Alice Wilde and Patty Dunham.

She just wishes she could do it on her own, and dressed the way that she wants to dress. Sighing wistfully, she plucks at a dress that’s far too modest for her mother to approve. There’s no sense buying it if she can’t wear it.

A face pops out of a nearby dressing room.

“Hey,” a woman with a round, tanned face says in English.

Sasha turns, startled. She points at herself uncertainly.

“Can you help me out?” the woman asks.

Sasha looks quizzical. She understands English perfectly, but does not speak it particularly well. “What is wrong?”

“I’m stuck.” The woman opens the curtain. She’s stout, and not quite as tall as Sasha. Her caramel skin is suspiciously perfect, and she wears a flowy little cami dress that is more French than Italian. It has a sash, which the woman points to.

“Oh.” Sasha enters the stall and helps her. The clasp is stuck. Together, they manage to open it.

“Oh, thank god.” The woman does not hesitate. She yanks the sash free and pulls the dress right off, revealing ivory colored underwear in a full-coverage cut. It’s the kind of sturdy stuff favored by well-endowed women like Patty Dunham. It’s understandable, because there’s a massively fat bulge between this woman’s legs.

Sasha turns red and quickly steps out.

“Oh. Shit, sorry. Thank you,” the woman says, pulling the curtain shut.

A little flustered, Sasha crosses the store to look at little matching sets of shorts and button tops. The thoughts she has aren’t the most polite, but Sasha is only human. She only got a glance, but it looks to her like that lady in there has more when she’s soft than Patty Dunham does when she’s hard. It’s not that Sasha’s so obsessed over size, but as enjoyable as it is to play with Patty Dunham, her arrogance isn’t very attractive.

Sasha covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle as she imagines the face that Patty would make if she could see what Sasha just saw.

“You would look so cute in that.” The woman from the dressing room is suddenly beside her. She grabs two sets from the rack. “I don’t know if you’re white or blue, though. Maybe both.” She holds them up. “I’m Bea, by the way.”

“Oh,” Sasha replies, taken aback.