Page 90 of The Triple Threat
She nodded to a brown leather sofa that was positioned right next to the dressing rooms. Without another word, she wandered off leaving me to go and sit and wait.
Having checked my phone, I knew I’d only been waiting for ten minutes when she appeared, pushing a rail with four or five dresses on it.
“Here you go. These should all suit your figure. I’ve gone for the size ten to accommodate your larger top section. But because of the style, the skirts won’t look too big.”
That was a first, having my boobs called a top section, but I didn’t care if the dresses fitted and suited me. There were a mixture of fabrics and colors, so I was pretty sure one of them would.
“That’s great, thanks so much.”
“No problem,” she replied. “Now, I have to go and help out another customer, but just ring the bell in the dressing room if you need me.”
She pushed the rail into a dressing room and indicated for me to follow. Once the rail was in place, she smiled and left. Quick, no nonsense, efficiency. I liked it.
I looked at each dress in turn, wondering which one to try first and decided on a red one which was my least favorite of her choices. It wasn’t long, which I’d really wanted, and it looked like it might be real tight and uncomfortable, particularly as there was going to be a four course dinner.
Not sure about the dress, but feeling I ought to try it anyway, I took off my jeans and t-shirt and threw them onto a stool in the corner.
Taking the dress from the hanger, I checked it for a zipper or buttons but when I couldn’t find either, figured it must just pull on. I lifted my arms and pulled it over my head. It was real tight, as I’d guessed, and troublesome to get on; the stretchy fabric wasn’t exactly, well, stretchy. The skirt part wouldn’t go over my boobs, which meant my head was stuck in the bodice and no matter how much I wiggled the dress wouldn’t move. I could barely move my arms which were pretty much trapped in the armholes by the fabric that had bunched around my head. I felt like damn sausage meat being piped into the skin.,
“Shit,” I hissed as I tried once more to wriggle free, without success.
I couldn’t even get a hold of a tiny bit of fabric to yank it off, and I was beginning to panic. I was literally trapped and if I didn’t get out of it soon, I knew I’d probably pass out through lack of air. The only thing to do was to call for the assistant, but I hadn’t taken note of where the bell was to call her. So, my only hope was to feel around the room to find it.
Staggering to what I thought was the wall, I waved my hands around and prayed that the bell was at the right height. Twisting and wiggling in the dress, must have disoriented me though because instead of a wall, I found myself patting at the drape.
“God damnit,” I cursed.
Taking small sideways steps, I moved along trying to get back to the wall. Things couldn’t get any worse. I kept on patting and groping, I didn’t find the wall, but I did find a gap in the drape and stumbled through it.
Staggering forward I tried to keep my balance, but top-heavy from the weight of my arms above my head, and unable to put my hands out to regain my balance, the momentum took me forward and I careered out into the store.
I ricocheted off the side of something, a counter or display cabinet possibly judging by the wobble, and spun around, banging into what I thought was the leather sofa and then bouncing back into another spin. The sight that met the other shoppers must have been both hilarious and scary; a pair of hands attached to a headless body and showing a practically bare ass – why the hell had I chosen to wear a thong - batting around like pinball.
“What the…”
A hard body stopped my path and it was a voice I recognized. I had never been gladder to hear it than I was then.
“Hunter? Is that you?”
My voice was muffled and when he didn’t answer immediately, I panicked that he hadn’t heard me and had carried on walking, or maybe it wasn’t even him. Who would blame whomever it was for passing on talking to some weird red body? They were probably scared to death.
“Hunter.” His name was a desperate plea.
For a few seconds there was no reply, but then finally.
“El?”
“Oh my God,” I gasped, my relief almost making me burst into tears. “You have to help me.”
The moment two big hands landed on my hips, my knees buckled, and I whimpered.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hunter asked, his voice cracking.
“Are you laughing at me?” I asked.
“Well, it is kind of funny. Do you know you’re standing in the middle of the dress section with your butt on show?”
He started a low chuckle from deep within his chest and I almost wished he’d disappear, but… yeah, my ass was on display, and I was trussed up like a half-made Christmas cracker.