She needed new jeans as her others had torn at the crotch. She hated jeans shopping saying how she could never find anything that would fit her well and it always made her miserable. I offered to help, be there as moral support, and because the thought of being in the changing rooms with her excited me.
The first shop we walked in, she went looking at their other clothes she liked on the sale rack, and I suggested a pair of jeans. In fact I picked up three pairs, some slightly different fit and sizes and she was still eager enough to agree to try some on. The female shop assistant showed us to the changing rooms and as we were together gave us the largest one. I’ve stayed in smaller bedrooms than this changing room. Red thick carpet and a full length mirror with lights either side. The fabric curtain dropped from the high ceiling to the floor and the full length of the room. I knelt down automatically helping with her shoes and watched as she peeled off her skinny jeans she already had on. Her knickers were purple and they had a small cut out section in the back tempting me to want to lick her arse. I sat back on my heels and then helped by rolling up the bottom of the new jeans. She smiled as they obviously felt nice but they were way to baggy and I suggested a size smaller in the same style. She agreed and I helped her step out of the new pair. Sticking my head round the curtain I asked the assistant standing directly outside if she could fetch a size smaller and handed them over. Seconds later I had the new pair. She pulled them on and they fitted like a glove. Smooth and shapely over her perfectly pert bottom, not so tight to be stuck to her but fitted enough to emphasis her muscled legs.
The grin on her was the sign that the search was over. The jeans were half price in the sale too which added to her delight. I couldn’t wait much longer and shifted over to her, offering my help in removing the new jeans so we could try on something else. As I pulled them down I couldn’t help pressing my face towards her crotch. Breathing in her heady scent. She watched herself in the long mirror behind me. She watched as I pulled the purple material to one side and started to lick.
She started to talk about the other jeans. I ignored her and focused on trying to taste her more. She continued nattering on about the shape and style of the other ones she’d picked up. I stopped and looked at her face – her eyes half closed – and I realised she was trying hard to hold it together. I became aware that the assistant was just the other side of the thick curtain. Aware she was trying to keep up the pretence of trying on clothes and not just being pleasured orally by a woman on her knees. She started to shudder under my tongue and falter with her words. I stopped.
“Seeing as you are saving on these jeans, how about we go and do some more shopping and try some other things on?”
Her expression was a wonderful mix of disappointment at me stopping and relief, with a twinkle of mischief about using some other changing rooms.
I carried the bags obviously – I’m a good little shopping sub.