The Fitting Room

Back when I was in high school, more years ago than I care to remember, I worked on the school newspaper and yearbook. We handled business like any other newspaper – based on advertising.

One day in class, the teacher asked me if I’d go by one of the local clothing stores after school to do some photos for an ad for the yearbook. The owner had three of my classmates working for him and wanted them, dressed in clothing from the store, as the centerpiece of the ad.

I told the teacher I could do it and, after school let out, stopped at home to grab a camera and headed toward the downtown store. Imagine my surprise, and pleasure, when I learned Nancy was one of the girls who’d be modeling for me.

Nancy and I were both sophomores, so I’ll place our age at 15 or 16. Nancy was a gorgeous, pixie-faced, dark haired girl. She stood maybe 4-foot-10 and weighed in at about 90 pounds, soaking wet.

But she wasn’t skin and bones. She sported a pair of 36C tits and had a high, tight, heart-shaped ass that was to die for. When she was walking down the halls of the school in a pair of tight jeans, it looked like two kittens, fighting in a denim sack.

The other two girls, Julie and Joan, were cute, too. But they didn’t hold a candle to Nancy. I’d probably gone through a whole case of tissues over her, if you know what I mean.

We got to shooting at various locations around the store about 4 p.m. Each girl had three or four different outfits their boss wanted them to wear for the photos. The owner had already left for the day, leaving Nancy to close up, when we got done about 5:15. Joan and Julie left, letting the door lock behind them.

I went to the back of the store to pack up my camera gear and was headed toward the door. Nancy was nowhere to be seen. Then, I heard something inside one of the dressing rooms. I figured Nancy was changing.

I turned toward the curtained area to tell her I was leaving when I got the shock of my life. The dressing room curtain was open about a foot and there was Nancy, in a tiny white bra, slipping her skirt down her legs. Then, there was Nancy, in tiny white bra and panties.

My 16-year-old dick literally shot down the leg of my pants as Nancy turned toward me to hang the skirt on a hook by the entrance to the dressing room. I was like a deer caught in the headlights. I couldn’t have moved or even looked away if I wanted to — and I REALLY didn’t want to.

The bra and panties she was wearing were sheer, almost to the point of being see through. I could clearly see the dark circles of her dusky areola, tipped by darker nipples, and the shadow of pubic hair on her mound of Venus.

I slowly dragged my eyes up her body, my cock throbbing inside my jeans, tenting the front. As I reached her face, instead of a shocked look, screams and hands madly flinging the curtain shut, I found Nancy, grinning.

A little aside about myself. I knew, from what I’d seen in the gym locker room, I had a larger than average cock even at 16. Nancy obviously saw, and appreciated, the tent I was pitching in my jeans. She seemed to enjoy the fact it was all for her.

“Um,” she said, wiggling the index finger of her right hand at me in an ages-old gesture. “Come here.”

I put the camera bag down and, as if in a trance, walked up to the curtain. I passed through, into the dressing room, where Nancy took my hand and pulled me the rest of the way inside. Still holding my hand, she turned her back to me, giving me my first clear look at her amazing ass.

“Help me with my bra,” she said, as she released my hand.