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Bra Shopping

Shopping for a bra is the worst...

I think everyone will agree; buying a bra is the worst! Well, not everyone, but at least everyone who’s ever tried to buy a bra. They come in hundreds of sizes and styles, and none of them ever fit. Even if they’re labeled the same, they’re never even close to the same size. And nobody makes one my size.

Last week, I went after work to try to buy a bra. I went to one of the national department stores at our local mall. The ladies intimate apparel department was in the back of the store, and there were six changing rooms right there, three on each side of a little hallway. There was a cash register nearby, with two salespeople working there.

I spent a few minutes looking through the offerings. The only thing I was sure of was the color; black, to go under my little black dress for a holiday party coming up. I’m five feet ten inches tall, and I weigh 140 pounds. My breasts aren’t too large; I’ve been wearing a 36B for years. They always seem too tight around, and too big in the cup. I often have to add a little kleenex to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric. Nobody makes a 38A, which probably wouldn’t fit anyway.

I picked out one that I kind of liked. It was black with a bit of lace along the top edge, and a tiny bow right at the bottom of the cleavage. The cleavage went all the way to the bottom; it was only about a half inch wide at that point. I took two, 36B and 38B, and walked over to the older of the sales ladies and asked, “May I try these. I have trouble getting them to fit right.”

“Of course. The changing rooms are right over here.” She pointed, then started walking in that direction. I thanked her and followed her toward the changing area. All six rooms were available. She started straightening one of the racks near the entrance.

I went into the first room on the right and closed the door. I unzipped my dress; rather, I tried to unzip my dress. The zipper jammed right in the middle of my back. I couldn’t get it either up or down. I opened the door; she was still there, arranging things. She was a bit shorter than me and curvier; she looked to be about fifty years old. “Could you help me for a minute. My zipper is jammed.”

She walked over and stepped into the changing room with me. It was larger than some I’ve used, but a bit crowded for two. I turned my back to her, and she started to work on the zipper.

“Oh, I see. You’ve caught a bit of the edge. I think I can work it loose.” I could feel both of her hands on my back.

After a few seconds, the zipper pull moved up, apparently coming loose from the jam. She said, “There. Got it. Do you want me to pull it down while I’m here?”

“Oh, yes, please,” I said. “I always find back zippers hard to manage.”

She zipped the zipper down all the way. I pulled the sleeves down my arms and turned. I was standing with my dress at my elbows, my upper body bare except for my bra. “Thank you very much,” I said. 

She pushed the door open and stepped out. “Oh, my pleasure.” She stood in the doorway, looking at me for a moment. Then she cleared her throat quietly and turned to go. She pushed the door closed behind her.

I dropped my dress to the floor and stepped out of it, then hung it on a hook on the wall. Standing in my panties, pantyhose, and bra, I reached around my back to unhook the bra. The clasps on this one were really tight. I got the upper one loose, but I couldn’t get the lower hook to snap free. I struggled with it for a minute or so, then opened the door again and looked out again. The sales clerk was still straightening a rack a few feet away.

“Excuse me again. I seem to have another wardrobe issue.” She looked at me.  “I can’t get my bra unhooked.”

She smiled and walked over. “I’ll give you a hand. I’m Marilyn.”

“Thank you, Marilyn. I’m Beth. Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” she said. “Turn around, and let me see.” 

I turned, and she took the back of the bra in her hands. She twisted and wiggled, and eventually got the clasp to snap loose. “The bottom clip is bent a little, and it’s too tight. Would you like me to try and straighten it?”

“Oh, no, that would be too much bother.”

“It’s not a problem at all. As you may have noticed, we’re not busy, and I’d love to help.”

I turned to face Marilyn, and let the bra slide down my arms a bit. “That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.” We were standing about six inches apart.

Marilyn reached into the space between us, and took my bra in both hands. I slid my arms out of the straps. We both stood there for a second. Then Marilyn cleared her throat again, “Ahem. I guess I’d better get to it, then.” She didn’t move.

I could feel my nipples stiffen. I hadn't been with a woman since a friend and I had fooled around a bit back in high school. I had the feeling it might not be much longer if I wanted. “Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, “I guess you need to get to it. Thank you.”

I was breathing hard, and my nipples were stiff. Marilyn stood in the doorway, my bra in her hand. I could see the outlines of her nipples through her blouse. She seemed a bit flushed and was maybe breathing a little faster than before. 

I willed my arm to reach out to her, but before it moved, she turned away, and gently pushed the door shut again.

I took the smaller bra off of the hanger and slid my arms into it. I reached behind my back, to clip it. It was going to be too tight, even at the loosest setting. That was the problem I always had with 36’s; just a bit too small.

I put it on the bench and grabbed the larger bra. As I was sliding it up my arms, I heard a gentle tap on the door. “May I?”

“Oh, Marilyn. Sure, come on in.”

The door swung open, and Marilyn stepped in, my bra in her hand. She looked at me; my bare chest with crinkly nipples licked her lips and pulled the door closed. She smiled. “I was able to bend the clips on this one just a bit. You shouldn’t have any problem getting it off anymore. Just in case there’s no-one around to help.” She set the bra down on the bench. Quietly she said, “Do you want help with that one?”

“Sure,” I whispered. 

She took it by the shoulder straps and slid them up my arms, her fingertips brushing my arms upward all the way to my shoulders. Reaching around me, she pulled the straps into place, then slid her hands down my back to the chest band. With her fingers on the bottom of the band, she moved her hands around me toward the front. I lifted my arms almost shoulder high. She took the bottom of the cups, and pulled them down, then pressed them to my rib cage, and lifted them, pushing my breasts up, letting them slip into the cups.

She put her hands on the cups and jiggled them a bit so that my breasts slid into place. Then she followed the bottom of the chest band around again, grasping the ends, and sliding the clips into place. In order to reach around me, she had stepped closer, so that her breasts and mine were now brushing against each other through our clothes. She left her hands and arms wrapped around me.

I lowered my arms to her shoulders, and wrapped them around her, leaned forward a bit, and kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Marilyn tightened her grip around me to a gentle hug. She tipped her head back and kissed me on the lips. “We need to see if this one fits.”

She loosened her arms, and stepped back, sliding her hands around be along the bottom of the bra, until they were on the sides of my breasts. She moved her hands upward and inward until they were centered over my nipples. She brought her fingers together until my stiff nipples were surrounded by her fingers through the fabric of the bra. She tugged just a bit, and my nipples slipped out of her grip leaving her with a fold of cloth between her fingertips.

“This is too big, isn’t it,” she said. “Would you like me to find you a better fit?”

“Yes, please, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.” She smiled. “I’m on my break right now, so we can take as much time as we need to find the perfect fit. We just got a new style that I think will be just right.” She slid her hands around me, to unclip the bra. As she did, she tilted her head back, and our lips met again. We both let our tongues slip between our lips at the same time.

After an eternity, I felt the clips come loose at my back and broke the kiss. We were both breathing a little deeper than before. She stepped back, sliding the bra off my arms again. “I’ll be right back.”

After the door closed, I took a deep breath and wondered where this was going. Certainly nowhere that I had intended when I decided to shop today. I stood, bare-chested for a couple of minutes, then heard the gentle tap on the door again. “Beth?”

“Yes, Marilyn, come on in.” She opened the door, and stepped in, pulling the door shut behind her. She had several bras in her hands.

“We have a new line of bras that just came in last week. They have half-size cups. I brought you several A and a half size for you to try.” She reached for the top button of her blouse. “I have one of them on; it’s a C and a half. Would you like to see?” Her fingers undid the button.

“Oh, yes, I’d love to. Let me help.” I reached for the second button on her blouse. She moved her hands to my shoulders as I slipped each of her buttons loose. Then I tugged the tails of her blouse out of her slacks and pulled the front open. “Oh, that’s lovely,” I said quietly.

“Check out how nice it fits. There’s no extra fabric at all.”

I cupped her breasts in my hands, then pulled my fingers together like she had done to me a few minutes before. When I reached her nipples and held them in my fingertips, there was almost no extra fabric there. I squeezed gently on her nipples through her bra. They were larger than mine and quite hard.

“Mmmmmm.” Marilyn reached for one of the bras, and said, “Let’s see if this one fits as well as mine does.” She held the bra out to me to slip my arms into. As it slid up my arms, she bent forward quickly and kissed my left nipple. Then she kissed it again.

I put my hands on the sides of her head and held her there. She kissed it a third time, then swirled her tongue around it. “That’s perfect,” I whispered. “Oh my god, perfect.”

She let my nipple slip out from between her lips, straightened, and slid the new bra the rest of the way up my arms, and around my back.  When she lifted my breasts into the cups, I could feel them slide into place. The fit was perfect. She clipped the strap, then ran her hands around to the front again. Her pinching move found no extra fabric, just my nipples, pinched between her fingertips.

“What do you think?” she asked, as she gently massaged my nipples with her fingertips.

“I think that’s perfect,” I said softly, “and I love it.”

She giggled. “I love it too. Are you sure it fits exactly right?”

“Maybe you’d better check again.” I kissed her. “It might fit different in a few minutes, or in an hour. You’ll need to keep checking, I think.”

“I’d love that,” she whispered back. “And once we’re sure the bra fits right, then we can try and find the right panties to go with it.”

We kissed again.




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