No sooner had I finished rubbing Rover's tummy than my phone burbled. Rover was still explaining to me that I hadn't done it for long enough, not anything like long enough, in her words. I shrugged my shoulders and answered my phone.

One thing I've noticed about other people's ring tones is that none of them sound like ring tones. The cacophonous racket sounds like their earpiece cable has popped out of their phone causing the sound to switch to speaker-mode, revealing to the world that they listen to heavy metal at full volume on a tinny loudspeaker measuring only a quarter inch diameter.

My ring tone goes like this: rrring rrring, rrring rrring, rrring rrring. I therefore know someone wants to talk to me, and that my earpiece cable hasn't popped out of - well, you get the idea.

I glanced at the screen. It was Charity.

“Hi, Charity, it's Stella. How are you?” I said.

Yes, I do actually say that when I answer the phone.

We chatted for a couple of ticks.

“You kindly offered to come shopping with me for some bras and knickers. Is now any good? My Mum and Aunty have gone away for the weekend and my Home Help won't be back till this evening.”

I quickly looked at my to-do list, who was still lying on the floor on her back waiting for me to see sense.

“If I took you to tea afterwards at Maisie's, would that help?” Charity giggled.

“There's no need, but that would be wonderful,” I replied.

Maisie's - a tea shop worth visiting whatever the occasion. I got dressed, and said goodbye to Rover, the cat.

“Sorry, Rover, I've had a better offer.”

She was lying on her back just staring at me. 'A better offer?' she sneered disbelievingly. 'Get real!' Poor Rover - she'd never been to Maisie's.

I drove to Charity's house, and she was waiting outside when I arrived. The sun was shining, so we decided to walk into town, only a few streets away from her house. Charity turned out to be a fast walker, even though she had to sweep her cane left and right and left again in front of her as she walked. All I had to do was keep up, keep out of reach of her cane and guide her across streets.

On the way, we chatted about underwear. Charity wanted to have some different things, regardless of any looks she might get from her Mum, Auntie or the Home Helps. She wanted to feel good in some push-ups, plunge bras, padded bras and any others that we came across, with matching knickers.

We tried some of the women's clothing shops in the town centre. Three of the independent ones aimed their clothes at size 0 ladies with B cups and bank accounts bigger than mine and Charity's put together. We were in and out before the toffee-nosed assistants had noticed us. Then there were the shops at the lower end of the scale.

“That's where my Home Helps get all my clothes anyway,” Charity scoffed as we passed Peacocks without even slowing down.

We tried the independent clothes shop on the corner of the next side street. There was only one assistant, but the shop was empty of customers.

She had a range of different styles, but the first thing was to be measured properly. No, sorry, the first thing to do was to look at some bra and knickers prices to make sure we hadn't wandered into Harrod's by mistake. I took Charity up to one of the bra rails and read off some prices.

“£24.99, that's for a 36C. £24.99 for a 34B. And £9.99 for a set of two knickers, size 14.”

Charity pursed her lips.

“That's not the cheapest, and not the most expensive either,” I said.

“At least they do bigger ones than 28B!”

The assistant took us both into the fitting room area, which was little more than a small corridor at the back of the shop. Charity was wearing a jacket and a fleecy top, so they both came off to reveal one of the white bras that I'd seen before. The assistant looked at it for a second.

“Well, that bra should come off right now!”

She was right, it should. Charity's breasts weren't particularly big but they overflowed from the bra cups like a saucepan of milk boiling over. And the bra strap was cutting into her torso, the poor hook and eye clips being stretched apart like a tug-of-war match. The bra came off right then and she produced a tape measure from somewhere and expertly took Charity's band size, thirty-one inches. Then she raised the tape and measured across her nipples.

“Thirty-four,” she said, more to herself than to anyone else. “So that's a 32B. Shall I measure you for knickers?”

Without waiting for a reply, the assistant whipped the measuring tape around Charity's waist just above her jeans.

“Size 10.”

She disappeared but was back in less time than I thought possible with a pile of clothes in one hand. She picked a black bra and deftly fitted it onto Charity, plonking her breasts into each cup and then pulling and tweaking at the straps and the cups to try to make it fit right. She shook her head and the bra dropped back into her hand. She picked another one, a blue lacy one with more of a plunge look to it. Again, she picked and pulled at it here and there, all the time staring at Charity's boobs.

“How does that feel?” she asked.

“It feels bigger than my normal ones,” Charity replied, nodding.

“It will do,” the assistant muttered.

The assistant cupped one of Charity's breasts and jiggled it up and down. I decided to join in and jiggle Charity's other one. The assistant looked at me strangely but said nothing. Each breast seemed to overflow around each cup.

“The cups look a bit small,” I said doubtfully. “What about a size C?”

The assistant seemed to decide I was some sort of bra expert. The bra came off and the assistant tried another one. This time the cups were the right size for Charity's boobs.

“Do you think that's better?” she asked me.

“Yes, it's better,” I said.

“It definitely feels better,” said Charity. “What does it look like? I can't see anything. Can you say if it looks good on me?”

We both spoke together.

“Yes, it looks great on you.”

“You could wear that anywhere. You could have this in several colours, such as white, black, nude and any other colour to suit your wardrobe,” the assistant continued.

“Have you got a push-up in this size?” Charity asked.

The assistant rummaged through the pile she'd brought. Shaking her head, she disappeared with the pile she'd collected earlier and started gathering another one at the other end of the shop. Charity was still waiting for a reply. She stared around the fitting room, her eyes straining to see anything at all.

“Did she go somewhere?”

“Yes, she did. She's gone to get some different types in the right size, now we know what it is.”

Charity groped for my hand and found it. She pulled it up onto a breast, still in its new bra.

“What does that feel like, Stella?” she smiled, naughtily.

“It feels very good, Charity,” I smiled back, doing some more jiggling. “It looks much better than your old ones, too.”

She took my other hand and pressed it to her other breast, then squeezed her hand to one of my breasts. We played with each other while the assistant was gone. Thus engaged, I turned my head to see the assistant standing about three feet away, watching us both and smiling rather a lot.

“I've got a range of types and colours in this size,” she announced, in a tone of voice which signified 'I am watching you'.

Charity jumped guiltily.

“Oh!” she blurted out. “It's just that we like doing this with each other, and our friends too.”

I decided to help out.

“Yes, we run a club for women only, to have a safe space in. We get together and, er, socialise with each other.”

“Usual with no clothes on,” Charity explained helpfully.

The assistant looked surprised for a second.

“Is this in Tiverton?” she asked. “I've got a friend who was talking about something like this only last week. She's called Nicole. Do you know her? She works on the farm at the end of Warnicombe Lane.”

“Yes, that's her,” I said.

“Can anyone join?” the assistant asked, putting the bra pile down, then picking it up again. She pointed at her name tag.

“I'm Tess, by the way. What does your club do, exactly?”

I explained exactly, while Tess's metaphorical eyebrows went up through the metaphorical ceiling.

“Oh!”

Tess was at a loss for words for a few seconds.

“Can I join?”

“The next meeting is Monday night at my house,” I replied.

I gave her my address.

Tess unbuttoned her shirt to reveal a red satin bra and a gorgeous pair of breasts. She popped them out of their cups. They had large dark areolas and neat little nipples. I studied them. Tess swung them towards me and gave me a silent invitation. My hand reached forward and touched her breast. I felt a jolt of excitement run from my nipples down to my pussy. Charity was again wondering what Tess was doing, and Tess seemed to sense Charity's disadvantage and gently took one of Charity's hands and placed it on her other breast. Charity moaned softly to herself. Tess glanced into the shop to check there was no one else there, then lifted her little black skirt and put Charity's other hand down there so she could feel her knickers. Under a pair of black tights, she had a pair of red lacy knickers on with not much width and less height than that. She pulled her skirt further up around her waist and took her tights off completely, and let Charity feel exactly how insubstantial her knickers were. In fact, they disappeared entirely around her bottom except for a narrow lacy waistband and a single thong strap which disappeared between her buttocks.

I rolled the front of them down, exposing Tess's clean-shaven mound and lips, while she stood there grinning like a Cheshire cat. Charity and I both pulled down our knickers and let Tess have some fun with her fingers on our own mounds and pussies. It was different, being in a public place and engaging in these activities. At any second the shop doorbell could tinkle, a customer would enter and Tess would have to get dressed very quickly. The fear of being caught or found out added spice to our activities.

But today seemed to be a dull day in Tiverton. Perhaps there was some sport on the telly, and maybe everybody had stayed at home to watch it. We, however, were enjoying sport of our own. Tess seemed very happy to let Charity and me run our hands over her breasts and bottom, our clothing making a small pile on the fitting room floor as each piece came off. And she seemed happier still when we let her do the same with our breasts and bottoms. At length we were all completely naked, the three of us hugging and cradling each other's breasts. Tess was able to push her mound forwards more than was normal, I didn't know there were muscles that could do that. So when she hugged her body tight to mine or Charity's, we were very aware of her presence at mound level. When we ground ourselves together tightly, her mound rubbed our clitorises much more strongly, and her big tits pressed firmly on ours.

Tess noticed my scratches and red places, and twigged they were mainly around my breasts and between my legs, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have to. I knew she knew, and she knew I knew too. She, of course, found out how big my clitoris was, and, with an expression of sheer delight, knelt down on the hard floor in order to see it and feel it more. We had all been standing up the entire time until Tess knelt down, and having my clit thoroughly studied while I was standing up made me feel hornier than ever. Tess was fascinated by it. She and Charity, also kneeling down at this point, described it to each other, took it in turns to hold it and manipulate every which way while I stood there, my eyes closed and my legs only just managing to support my body, gently cupping my own breasts, squeezing them lightly and moving them around on my chest. I felt an orgasm beginning to form, so I kept pushing it back because I was enjoying myself so much that I didn't want to bring the feeling to an end.

We had some pleasant moments in that fitting room for a few minutes checking each other out. At length, the door of the shop tinkled as someone came in, and Tess quickly put on her shirt, knickers and skirt, as did Charity and I. She left her tights off, rolled them up as she came out of the fitting room and put them in a drawer near the till without the new customer being any the wiser.

Charity bought six or seven bras in varying colours and types and Tess threw in the matching knickers in size 10 and we left the shop, saying 'see you later' to her.

She and I had an afternoon tea at Maisie's (very nice) and then we marched back to her house at her breakneck speed. We had another cup of tea not costing £7.49, then I helped Charity try on all her new bras, describing them to her and also explaining the difference between push-up, padded, plunge, demi and balconette using my fingers on her breasts to enhance the verbal descriptions. Then she showed me her underwear drawer, and I extracted all her old white bras and knickers. I held one of her old white bras around my chest and tried pulling up one of her white knickers, but sadly I couldn't pull the bra strap around my chest or get her knickers up past my thighs, even with Charity helping. Perhaps if we'd laughed a little less and felt each other up even less than that, we might have succeeded. But I doubt it.

I told Charity about Suzanna and our time together only two or three hours ago. I told her about Dave and the Tiverton Arms. And I told her about the rough sex and the scratches.

“Oh, Stella!”

She wanted to see the marks on my body, so we went over to the window where the light was better and I pointed them out. I don't know if she saw anything or not. To be honest, there wasn't much to see. Just a few scratches, like I'd been caught by a bramble.

“Oh, Stella, you poor thing!!”

I told Charity about the orgasm I'd had building up inside me in the shop, which I could still feel ready for me when I was ready for it. Charity's face dropped the sad look and replaced it with a happy look.

“Let me help you with that, then, Stella!”

She found a vibrator from her bedside drawer and offered it to me. I took it and switched it on. I applied it to various parts of my now naked body while Charity played with other parts of me. It buzzed in close contact with my pussy for two seconds. Then I took it away and held it to my left nipple for two seconds. Then other parts of me, each for only two seconds. Then I repeated holding it briefly to my right nipple, my clit, my cleavage, my left nipple and so on, adding to a beautiful feeling bit by bit. It built up in me until I couldn't hold it back any longer. I lay on Charity's bed, with her right next to me ably and excitingly helping me in various ways, and allowed it to overcome me.

“Come on, Charity, it's your turn now!”

She lay on her bed and I applied the vibrator to Charity's naked body, just touching her here, there, somewhere else and back to here again just like I'd done for myself. Charity lay on her back, eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face. I edged her closer and closer to a happy ending female style and watched her smile as she got nearer and nearer. Finally, her orgasm exploded in her body. She twitched and wriggled and writhed in gorgeous ecstasy for a long while, with me holding her hand and stroking her face until she lay still and started breathing again. Fifteen minutes later I hugged her on my way out and drove home.

My to-do list was still lying on her back, waiting for me to continue rubbing her tummy.

So I did.