We were at the mall killing time on a Saturday afternoon. She and I were hunting for a birthday gift for her mother and not having much luck finding anything. As we looked over the jewelry counter in Dillards one of the make-up girls asked Sandy if she wanted to be made up. At sixteen Sandy was forbidden by our religion and strict parents to wear make-up. Even though we had known each other since kindergarten we were only friends, bonded by the church and the fact that we didn't have other close friends. Neither of us were allowed to date and dressing up and wearing make-up was strictly taboo. Even talking about boys or girls in a familiar way was an easy way to get smacked. Sandy shook her head sadly and refused the offer. As we moved away from the make up stand I asked her “That might be fun, why don't you?”
She looked up at me “I can't do that, mom would crack my head open with her Bible.”
I felt the devilment stirring and I wanted to see how she looked made up like a Jezebel. “I bet you can be real pretty, why don't you let her fix you? We have the time.”
She protested “I can't wear make-up, you know that” but her eyes betrayed her, she was intrigued.
I grabbed Sandy's arm and pulled her back to the young woman “Can you take off the make-up after you put it on?”
She looked at me puzzled “Well, yeah, but why would she want to do that?”
Without answering her I turned to Sandy “If you take it off before we leave they won't know.” She knew I was talking about her parents.
She hesitated again, looked around furtively for witnesses then back to the woman “Ok, but you have to take it off after you're done.”
Sandy sat on the high stool and the make-up artist started on her. First was the eyes, liner, shadow, brows and lashes. I watched as a foundation was rubbed into her cheeks and brow then covered with blush. The last application was a subtle red lip gloss that turned her mouth into the prominent feature of her face complimented by the artistry done to her eyes.
I had talked her into being so brazen and she was flaunting our upbringing by getting made up and the forbidden actions were having an effect on me. I felt a closer bond, an intimacy with Sandy that I’d never experienced before. The last thing the make-up girl did before she handed Sandy a mirror was to rub something in her hair then she fluffed and teased it, making it look thicker and fuller. When she was done I was shocked at the transformation. Sandy looked like one of those floozies in school that always had a troop of boys following her. For the first time in my life I felt a rush in my nuts from looking at a girl. I knew Satan's imp was in me but I thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of my balls getting warm, my pecker filling my underwear. Sandy looked at me with a big smile and said “God, I feel decadent! How do I look?”
“You look like one of those girls dad is always telling me I shouldn't talk too. He thinks they're all harlots”
“I look like a harlot?”
“No, but if you had different clothes on you might.”
Sandy hopped of the stool and turned to the woman who was staring at us as if she wasn't hearing right. “How long will you be here?”
She shook her head and answered “Till six. It will take a few minutes to get that off so come back before 5:30.”
Sandy grabbed my arm and led me away from the make-up stand then glanced around surreptitiously and said quietly, “I want to try on some different clothes, let's go.”
She led me to the Petite section of Young Woman's clothing and started prowling through racks of dresses, pants and blouses. She spent 20 minutes pawing different stuff, handing me things to carry while she browsed. Jeans with cuts in the legs, armless short dresses, and a blouse so thin I could see my hand through the material were some to the articles I was carrying. After leaving her fingerprints on almost everything in the department she headed for the changing rooms. “Stay here and I'll come out and show you what I try on.” She gathered her booty from my arms and disappeared into a booth.
I'd been sitting in a hard plastic chair for about five minutes when Sandy stepped timidly out of the little room. She was wearing snug fitting jeans that rode low on her hips, each thigh was revealed behind two cuts in the denim, showing glimpses of the smooth creamy skin of her legs. She had put on the see-through blouse which revealed her body under the material; and a red bra.
My heart lurched against my ribs as a vibration shook my body. I'd never seen Sandy dressed like that and the sight of her made my knees weak. She could have been one of those girls the church was always warning us about. “How do I look” she asked as she turned in a circle. I couldn't tear my eyes from the bra. My eyes locked on to her breasts and I forgot to breathe. “Hello? I asked you something.”
“Uh --- you look --- uh ----awesome, like you should be a model or something.” I looked into her made up eyes then stepped back to look at her from a distance. The make-up, the hair and the clothes disguised the real Sandy, the girl in front of me was almost a stranger. She beamed her pleasure at my crude assessment then spun toward the room. I watched her back as she left, her butt rocked under the tight jeans as she padded away on bare feet. I took a deep breath and silently prayed for forgiveness.
I had just enough time to calm down before she came back. The second outfit was a short sleeveless summer print dress. Again she wore no shoes so her legs were bare from toes to mid-thigh. The top of the dress was open wide across the shoulders and I noticed immediately that there were no bra straps where bra straps should have been. I moved my eyes to her bust and saw small peaks in the material covering her breasts. She posed for me by cocking her right hip higher than the left and then rested her hand on it. Her eyes were glittering with some unknown expression as if she were daring me to appraise her. My body started shaking again, my prick was rising fast, pressing against my pants. If Sandy was to look at my crotch she would see my reaction to her so I turned around and pretended to look over the big room.
“Hey,” I heard behind me, “don't act like you don't want to look at me.” I twisted my head and looked into a dazzling smile and wickedly pretty blue eyes. “You like it?”
Just as I started to answer Sandy's eyes flew open in shock. Her mouth formed an O and she paled under the make-up. As she looked past me into the store, she started to burn red then dropped to her knees. “Get down!! They're here!” Before I could react she scuttled on hands and knees toward the dressing rooms waving frantically at me “Come on, they can't see us!”
Instinctively I ducked low and followed her to the little changing booth. Only when she pushed the door shut locking us in did I ask “What's the matter, who did you see?”
“My mother and yours, they are out there! God if they see me like this I'll get the belt for sure!”
She was trembling, visibly upset so I touched her arm to reassure her, “You'll be fine, you want me to go out there and pretend I'm looking for you and lead them away?”
Sandy looked at me with a mixture of relief and angst. “No, you should stay here, I don't want them to ask any questions, especially why you had to go looking for me.” I sat on the narrow changing room seat and looked at our reflections in the three full length mirrors. Her clothes were piled into a corner, I noticed the red lacy bra lying on top. She looked into a mirror at my image and started to giggle, her hand covered her lips as she sniggered. “What's so funny?”
“Look at me, I wanted to feel sinful, well, I certainly did that. Do you think prayer will bring me back to the fold?”
I had to say something to lighten the mood “If you keep wearing red brassieres nothing will save you.”
Her eyes flickered with amusement, “My panties are red too.”
She was beginning to calm down which brought my eyes and thoughts back to her and the way she looked. Sandy glanced down on me then sat on my lap, put her arms around my neck and rested her head as if it were too heavy to hold up. She'd done this many times before as we grew up but this time the short dress pulled high up her legs and the soft mound of her bra-less breast pressed on my chest. My cock reacted immediately, rising again but this time her butt was riding my lap, my growing erection pressed against her.
Sandy lifted her head and leaned back to look at me. She shifted her body slightly then surprised me by asking “Is that what I think it is?” We weren't supposed to know about the evil aspects of men and women relationships but we heard and learned enough in school to know the basics; we just never talked about them. I felt my skin glowing, my face burned with embarrassment, I didn't need to answer her. She rocked her hips slightly getting another poke then stood, “I have to change.”
I got up to leave but she said, “Stay, if they're still out there they'll see you.” She glanced at the big bulge in my pants then turned around “Take the zipper down” she whispered. That she didn't shy away from my obvious arousal caused me to become even more aroused. With trembling fingers I pulled the zipper to it's stop. I looked at her bare back and the band of her red panties in the open vee of the dress and my cock pulsed a gob of slickness from the end. I turned away from her so she could change.
I had my back to her but the three mirrors sent her reflection directly to my eyes. Her image bounced and rebounded between the mirrors giving me an infinite number of Sandys to stare at as she slipped the dress off her body. My heart thumped harder, faster, my nuts started to ache. Sandy dropped the dress to the floor then looked directly into the mirror in front of her. I was captured by an endless number of eyes from the endless number of girls dressed only in red panties.
Even though my entire body was shaking, a sudden calm engulfed me, I quit feeling self-conscious about staring at her. A thousand blue eyes looked me up and down then drifted away when she turned to face me. Her voice was soft, faltering, as she said “Take off your clothes, I want to see you too.” Once again my face burned.
She stepped back and waited expectantly. Her pupils were wide and dancing with excitement while I pulled off my shirt. It fell to the pile of clothing and covered the bra then I dropped my slacks. She was watching the long bulge in my boxers as I stepped out of my pants. Sandy slipped two fingers into my underwear and pulled them from my body. My erection extended into the light for her inspection. I put my hands on her hips and held them gently while she pushed my shorts down my legs. When they were off I pinched the sides of hers and pushed them down and off.
She stepped back but I reached for her hands. When she gave them to me I moved away until our arms were straight between us. Standing like that we inspected each other, my gaze traveled from her face to the curled hair at the junction of her legs. She was fixated on my erection and balls. I looked into the mirrors which gave me a view of her back and butt while facing her. I was surrounded by nude Sandys. She dropped my hands, turned around then backed up to me, she pressed against my stomach and I wrapped my arms around her waist. My hard-on was lying in the crack of her butt cheeks and when she moved it twitched against her. She trembled with tension.
Sandy closed her eyes and stepped her feet apart. I moved my hands from her stomach and cupped her breasts; she sighed, shuddered and rubbed her butt on my cock again. I pulled my ass back then bent my knees until I slipped between her thighs. When I started rolling my hips sliding my cock on the crack of her body Sandy gasped and whimpered softly. I stroked her while caressing her breasts and she started to move with me. Her hips were flexing as I slid the end of my erection through the slit of her sex. She was breathing faster, deeper, quivering under my hands. I looked at her in the mirrors and she looked directly into my eyes as she put her hands backwards to my butt and held me tighter.
I pressed her forward, forcing her to move to the small bench. She leaned over, put her hands on it and spread her legs. While she hung her head to watch between her thighs I put the end of my cock on her body lips and moved it in a small circle, feeling for her entrance. She humped her butt slightly when I was in the right place and the head of my erection slipped into her. Sandy puffed a quiet sound then eased back on me.
I pushed against her resistance and she rocked her hips letting me further in. My heart was slamming in my chest, she was rocking her back, hissing as my ram hit the barrier of her girlhood. She took a deep breath then jammed backwards against me, my erection ruptured her maidenhead, forcing through until my groin hit her butt. “Lord forgive me!” she cried sharply. I started to pull back but she threw an arm around and held my ass again. “Don't, it's feeling better already.” I stood still and cringed at the thought that I had just made her a harlot, that we had fallen from His grace.
Sandy twisted her head around as I stood behind her with my cock buried deep in her. “Now we're really gonna have to pray hard.” I nodded to her as I pulled out then pushed back slowly. She shivered slightly “Do it again.” she urged. I started fucking Sandy as she bent over the seat in the dressing room. We watched each other in the mirror, I saw passion and desire easing the features of her face as the shame of loosing her virginity faded. For most of my seventeen years I’d heard from my parents and the preacher how evil and base loose and wonton women and men were but as we screwed for the first time I didn't feel the might of evil or the weight of immorality crushing my soul. Sandy's reflection let me know that any feelings of remorse or sin she felt were also fading quickly.
It ended in a rush of seizures from my balls. My back cramped, my cock convulsed and I huffed loudly as I came. Sandy reacted instinctively and helped drain me by rotating her ass against my groin. My cock squished when I pulled out of her, she stood straight, turned to me then put her arms around my neck. Her naked body was molded to mine when we kissed for the first time in our lives.
She whispered in my ear “I hope we don't go to hell for what we just did.”
I got a sweet smile when I told her “I don't care, it was worth it.”
We got dressed slowly, enjoying the intimacy, the bonding. When it was time to go I sneaked out and looked for our mothers. They weren't around so I motioned Sandy out and she went directly to the make-up stand to get her face cleaned. The woman at the stand looked at the smeared lipstick and blush, gave her a knowing smile then went to work.
Later that night I called her. When she answered the phone I said “I want to go to church tonight, want to go with me?”
“The prayer room isn't open, it's closed until tomorrow.”
“I wasn't thinking of the prayer room,” I told her, “do you remember that room in the back where the two beds are, for people who need to lie down?”
I heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone “Oh yes, I need to lie down.”
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