Pure Feeling

pink knickers

When I called Olivia Styles to ask for her help picking a dress to wear for Harry's charity evening, it had been a battle to decide where to shop. I wanted to go to Oxford Street, where Topshop and Zara were easily in reach, because I had store cards and Gen's discount cards, and Olivia wanted to go to Bond Street where Dolce and Gabbana and Chanel would take us through to their private suite with a personal shopper. Selfridges had been the compromise; I could still find something that wouldn't hurt my wallet, and there were high end designers for Olivia.

The only problem -- we were yet to make it to the dresses that cost less than the limit on my store card. I'd found one dress amongst the designer racks but I hadn't pulled it because Olivia needed my opinion on two Diane Von Furstenberg gowns.

"My boobs are too big for this one. I can't do a high neck" Olivia announced as she flung the curtain open and walked out in only her undergarments. "But you have to try it on."

I blinked passively, staring at the black satin Alexander McQueen gown Olivia had in her hand. It was intricately beaded on the bodice and had a floor length skirt. "Oh no, I have my eye on a Self Portrait dress." I love the designer but the main drawcard was it was on sale and with Gen's industry discount card it would be less than 200 pounds.

"Oh come on! It can't hurt to try it on, right?"

I sighed and took the dress from Olivia. Much like Harry there was no point in fighting her, although with Olivia it was stubbornness that drove her and not the desire for control. Satisfied with me, Olivia sat herself down on the plush velvet stool in the centre of the room to wait for me while I changed behind the curtain.

As beautiful as the dress was to look at, it was even more beautiful to touch. The soft satin fabric was divine against my skin, and when I opened my eyes, I gasped at my reflection. The silhouette of the dress suited me perfectly; it flowed with the natural shape of my body and accentuated my curves. Gen had been able to lend me many stunning designer gowns over the years, saving both my bank balance and my sanity, but some things were out of her reach. Alexander McQueen was one of those things. It was a shame, really, because the gowns were always exquisite and the ones I lusted after the most.

"Sasha, you have to come out!" Olivia called.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, a bit flustered and a lot nervous as to how I was going to be able to talk my way out of buying a dress that seemed to be made for me, I threw the curtain open and stepped out into Olivia's view.

"If there was ever a way to make someone cum in their pants, that dress is it. And it isn't even revealing!" I started laughing, and Olivia frowned. "What? I'm serious!"

I couldn't tell Olivia I was laughing because the thought of her brother losing control of himself long enough to cum in his pants was ludicrous. So I lied. "You couldn't be more different from your brother, that's all."

"Mm, he's got a stick up his arse, but he's not as different as you might think. I know he plays all hard and mysterious, but really he's a bloody marshmallow. Wait till you see him with our niece and nephew, it's well cute."

Olivia looked like she was about to say something else, and I had myself braced for an invitation to the birthday party that Harry had mentioned. I exhaled a sigh of relief when Olivia was interrupted by a knock on the door of the changing suite.

"Ms Ginsberg, Ms Styles, there is a Rachel Franklin here to see you."

"Oh! Yes, let her in please." I'd invited Rachel as well, but she hadn't been sure if she could make it. "Rach! Hi!" I beamed as the staff member ushered her into the room.