She drew me over to an "enhancement" comparison chart, outlining varying levels of lift with a handful of otherwise-identical bras demonstrating differing amounts of padding. Sam felt up the cups on one, then another, then handed them to me, asking, "Which style do you like most?"
"I guess it depends," I cagily answered, unsure of how I should proceed.
But Sam didn't let me off easy. "Well aren't you the artful dodger," she said with an eyebrow raised. "Which of these do you think would look best on me?" she asked with an impish look, emphasizing the last word.
Aiming for diplomatic boldness, I said, "I normally think a good amount of lift looks great, but frankly," with the quickest of glances down to her breasts peeking out the top of her shirt "you don't need it. For you, I'd say a 1 out of 4 is practical, but a 2 out of 4 just for fun. Or a 3, if you're feeling particularly adventurous and in the mood to make girls jealous and guys sweat." She liked that answer.
We moved on to other alcoves, looking at the shop's fanciest and most elaborate offerings.
"Hmm," Sam said, furrowing her brow with what might have been mock concern on her voice. "Which three ensembles do you think I would look best in? Would you pick them out for me?"
I swallowed, picturing not just her tits cupped in one bra or another, but widening my imagination to her entire lithe figure decked out in this elaborate lace or that minimal set, cunningly designed to accentuate and display. I had never seen Sam in just her underwear before, but I'd seen her soft, flat belly over just a hint of muscle during one of our jammie/movie afternoons when her shirt rode up. I imagined what her lean thighs would look like, rising all the way up, and what her pert butt checks would look like out of the tight jeans she was so fond of wearing. My member twitched, still somewhere between resting and fully erect, and again, I hoped it wasn't visible through my jeans.
I took a full eight minutes to pick out the three sets, looking here and there, feeling textures and padding, savoring every intimate moment of her watching my search because I knew who this was for, because I liked her so much, and because I knew how fantastic her body would look in any of these. I decided on a vibrant blood orange bra, simple but with intricate trim, and a matching thong. Her lips curled into a smile with another raised eyebrow at the sight of the thong. Second was a daring sheer set with little flowers sewn across the bra and panties. I wasn't sure if nudity would be visible through the set, but I liked the gamble. Third, and perhaps my favorite: a well-crafted but minimal black push-up bra and thin cotton boy short bottoms. This set most reminded me of her Saturday afternoons lazily spent on the couch, watching movies with me, and the casual, nonchalant way she wears enticing, subtly revealing clothes.
"Wait here", she said, and she approached an employee to take her back to a fitting room. I sat in a large, elaborate armchair facing the dimly lit hallway leading to the fitting rooms, my erection a lot bigger than I was comfortable with in public. I hoped I wouldn't have to move anytime soon. Directly opposite of me was a very large black and white portrait of a stunning lingerie model wearing just a thong and coyly covering her large breasts with an arm. I waited for what must have been twenty minutes or so, watching women walking in and out of the fitting room hallway, carrying seductive ensembles or just daily underwear. My cock stayed hard for a while, but Sam kept me waiting so long that my erection finally subsided.
Eventually, Sam emerged and forced a smile when she saw me, looking just a little nervous. She must have been thinking over how she had teased me during the shopping - hopefully she wasn't starting to regret it. I followed her back into the store and towards the checkout, eyeing the bundle of items wrapped over her arm. What she landed on, I wasn't sure, as she had tried on more than just the things I picked out, including a couple of soft-looking tees she must have grabbed from somewhere. I hung back as she approached the register and made the transaction.
We walked back out into the large hall of the mall, which felt like a different world to me then: brightly lit from skylights, filled with all types and shapes of people, and hearing the occasional burst of laughter or shriek from a child instead of the quiet boom of seductive music back in the store. My head was clearing, as if from a deep sleep, and I was trying to make sense of just how forward Sam was with me; how knowingly she was teasing me. Just how much of it was my heightened perception because I liked her so much, and how much of it was my imagination?
Maybe our new bond existed purely in my imagination after all, because she seemed to be tuning me out, invested in her phone as we walked. I felt a bit put off by that, feeling that we had shared at least a certain undeniable level of new intimacy between us, and I wanted it to continue.
We walked in silence, then I followed her lead as she sat down on a bench in the mall's atrium, near the tall glass doors facing the parking lot.
"Sorry about the detour," she said with a blush, earnestly looking me in the eyes. "I really wanted this day to be about you. Let's take a look at what you got," she said scooching closer to me, her thigh now touching mine.
She picked up the Best Buy bag I had forgotten I was carrying and lifted out her summer scarf that was on top, placing it on our laps. She pulled out the disc for Inception, a favorite of mine that I hadn't seen in years and never in HDR. She sure knew me. And she pulled out Us: I'm skeptical of horror movies, but she assured me that a reviewer she trusts gave a rave review about Us that couldn't be denied.
"So ... was I supposed to wrap these?" she asked, and we laughed together.
And she pulled out the last item: the high-end wireless headphones I had completely forgotten about. I was worried she had spent too much and was trying to figure out how wireless headphones would fit into my week, maybe fitting with dish washing and workouts and the occasional workday that allows for headphone listening.
As my mind was completely lost in tech, she put her hand on my thigh as she looked me in the eyes and just said, "Hey." I held her gaze, looking at the face I'm so fond of, waiting for her to say what was on her mind.
She paused to gather her thoughts, then said, "It took me a long time to think of what would make a really special gift, but I do have one more surprise for you." She pulled out her phone, unlocked it with a fingerprint, tapped once on the screen, and put it back in her little purse.
"Take out your phone," Sam said, just as I felt it vibrate in my pocket. As I pulled it out, she moved her hand onto my leg beneath her scarf. I had a text from her: a picture. Actually, six pictures. Each was of her in the dressing room of the lingerie shop, wearing the blood orange bra and thong I picked out. Each had a different pose: one was a come-hither look, one was just a sweet smile, one was an athletic side-pose that showed off her abdomen and a little of her firm-looking butt. And in the last one: a coy smile I will never forget, with one bra strap hanging off her shoulder, the bra cup drooping, and her forearm covering her breast with just the teensiest hint of nipple showing above her arm. She looked fantastic, especially in the discreet and carefully engineered fitting-room lighting. Her skin looked smooth and creamy. Her legs looked lean and toned. Her firm collarbones and even just the shape of her shoulders somehow resonated within me. Her tits looked shapely and perfect and incredibly smooth.
I gaped at the pictures. I felt compelled to keep up my prudish facade, the facade I had maintained for two years now as we spent more and more time together, as she became more comfortable with me but without a hint of expressed sexuality in my direction. But clearly there was no reason to. Clearly she didn't need that from me any longer. Clearly she was teasing me, and the sexual teasing was pretty overt - I don't think I've ever been so excited in my life.
Sam smiled at me with the most perfect, innocent, knowing, coyly seductive smile I've ever seen, as her hand, under her scarf and on my leg, moved inwards and slowly slid towards my abdomen. She reached out just a pinky towards the bulge of my cock, truly and fully erect, unmistakable to all had it not been covered by the scarf she placed there just two minutes earlier. Her pinky grazed my erection, traveling over my jeans up the length of my dick, as she slowly pulled her hand out from beneath the scarf, leaving it in place to cover my obvious excitement. I looked at the scarf, at her emerging arm, and then into her eyes. Her expression showed she was just as aroused as I was.
