The Clothes Make The Woman
Chapter One


Lauren grumbled a multitude of obscenities under her breath as she poured the rest of the bottle down the sink. Less left in there than she’d thought, it seemed; she added a few curses for having tried this while tipsy.
Curses indeed. “What the hell was I thinking? Googling magical spells on the internet? God, I’m such an idiot!” She stamped her foot angrily, then nearly lost her balance. Perhaps she was more than just tipsy. “A stupid, plain, flat, ugly boring idiot. Why did he ever marry me?”
She continued asking herself this without ever attempting to answer while she tidied up the scattered debris from that idiotic ritual she’d found. Sober, Lauren wouldn’t be quite so anxious or self-critical. Sure, she wasn’t built like a Barbie, legs up to here, a perfect booty under a trim waist under massive boobs. But she had a pretty enough face. She was only 5’3”, but she thought it was a cute 5’3”. Pale, but delicate. Her boobs existed, even if they were just a set of lopsided B cups. (Right ever-so-slightly bigger than left.) She kept in shape, but in return her butt refused to do anything to fill out the back of her pants.
Sober, she’d know she was all right. Just plain, boring, unremarkable, forgettable, all right.
But drunk or sober, Lauren couldn’t understand what David saw in her. David was handsome, was charming, made friends easily, earned a good living, called his mother every week. He tithed his 10% to charity. He treated his wife like his queen.
He deserved better. She tried to give it to him – she kept a clean house, had learned how to cook, tried to be a loving partner. Lauren just never felt like it was enough. She tried to be the kind of woman she thought he deserved, even if he always insisted she was just fine the way she was. It just never felt that way inside. 
Which probably explained today’s drunken attempt to magically make herself into a better woman. The site had boasted that for half a day, she’d be just what every man wanted, through and through. By far the stupidest stunt she’d yet pulled to up her wife game. Worse, she even caught herself looking in the mirror to see if anything changed. Same boring body, same limp brown hair, same lame Lauren.
Hours passed, and as she sobered up, she began to remember that David loved her just the way she was. Even if it didn’t make sense to her, that’s just how he was built. Loyal and loving and wonderful. With her mood slowly improving, Lauren made steaks for dinner timed to be ready just as he got home, then they fell asleep on the couch watching TV, and when they woke up and made their way to bed, she put on her comfiest PJs and snuggled him tight. The last thing she heard before sleep took her was his soft assurance, “I love you, Lauren.”
Maybe she wasn’t perfect, but things were pretty all right.
The next day was Saturday, but even so, David had to head in to the office. (They didn’t pay him as they did for nothing, after all.) She looked fondly at his indentation on the bed, and began to get ready for her day. 
Having just cleaned yesterday, she was in no rush, so she took her time looking through her closet. David had been chiding her since before they’d gotten married to thin out her wardrobe, but really, her body hadn’t changed much over the years and she didn’t see a need to throw out what still fit. Heck, she still had some of her clothes from high school in here that fit her just fine.
It was that very thought that set her to browsing through the depths of the closet, reminiscing about years past. There was her old workout clothes, her gardening outfit from the old house (when she’d still had a garden), her field hockey uniform, a whole box of old Halloween costumes. 
There was… “Oh my GOD,” Lauren exclaimed, unable to suppress an embarrassed laugh as she caught sight of it. There it was, that ridiculous gag gift Tabitha had gotten her at her bachelorette party – the most preposterous lingerie she’d ever seen, much less owned. It was so pink it was almost painful to look at, so sheer it was a step away from transparent, and both bra and panties were so skimpy she blushed just to look at it. Completing the ensemble was a platinum blonde wig.
Even then, she’d been self-conscious about her marriage. Tabitha had known just how to tease her about it, to remind her that David wouldn’t want some busty bombshell bimbo. Lauren stroked the fabric affectionately, making a mental note to call Tabitha sometime soon to have coffee.
Lauren decided then that was enough reminiscing; time to get ready for the day. She found herself feeling a bit saucy so she started by doing a little primping. She propped up a stool in front of the bathroom mirror and started brushing her hair. Just because it was a relatively short cut, not even past her chin, didn’t mean her hair didn’t deserve a little TLC. Lauren switched on the radio to NPR. It was a neat little slice-of-life story about funding and diversification of urban school districts.
A hundred brush strokes later, her hair was looking pretty good for once, she decided. “Nice volume,” she complimented her reflection, admiring her light brown strands. “Still, should probably grow it out some. That’d look really cute.”
While she didn’t normally wear makeup around the house, maybe today would be a nice change. With a little pout at the limitations of her stash of cosmetics, she finally found a nice bright pink. Weirdly, the whole bottle was full, even though it was totally the cutest color on the counter. Maybe even her favorite.
“Ugh, what is this noise?” she said, glaring at the radio. She started with another hundred brush strokes, trying to give her dirty blonde locks a little extra gloss. By the time she was done, it was finally starting to look halfway decent, though Lauren still fretted over whether to wear it in front of her shoulders or behind them, or maybe just to do a cute little ponytail.
The stupid radio was still blah-blah-ing about whatever the heck it was, like dirty textbooks or something? Whatever, it was lame, so she turned it off and started on painting her toes. “Why can’t they make this stuff pinker?” she pondered aloud, then almost giggled herself off her stool when she caught herself wishing she could make her pinky a pinker pink.
It was so quiet it was kinda hard to think – not that Lauren was much of a thinker for thinking’s sake – so she tried to find something good on the radio. She twisted the knob round and around but couldn’t find anything good. Couldn’t find anything at all, in fact, until she realized she’d forgotten to turn it back on first. She giggled at herself, feeling lucky David didn’t mind that his wife was a bit of a ditz. He’d gotten used to the dumb blonde jokes a long time ago.
Speaking of, she should give her hair a little attention. She pulled the locks over her shoulders and got to work, dancing a little in her stool to the cheery pop song she’d found on her favorite station. Even hanging down over her boobs it was almost down to her belly button; she’d have to make an appointment at the salon for a little trim. Having long golden blonde hair was super hawt, but she didn’t want to be tripping on it!
After another… well, she’d lost count before thirty strokes, but she’d done it for a long time after, she felt pretty good about it. Then a little blush, some eyeliner, dramatize her long lashes, highlight her cheekbones. Looking herself over, she was overall quite pleased with what she found. Like a blonde porcelain doll! She hefted her boobs, as always a little worried David would decide she’d gone too big with the implants. For a girl who was only 5’3”, double D’s were pretty tough not to notice, especially when they were perkier than they ever could have been without surgery. The butt cheek implants, too… he’d definitely never complained about those. 
Yessir, even if she couldn’t sculpt herself into having a nice big smart brain, she could at least give her husband the perfect, sexy body. Good decisions, and Lauren had never looked back. Only… 
She was out of pink lip gloss.
It took a few deep breaths to calm down, and she had to tell herself it wasn’t a technical emergency. She had other colors she could wear. Just… no pink. Which made no sense, since pink was Lauren’s most favoritest color in the whole wide world. Always had been. Pink was her signature. How could she have let this happen? 
So she put on some bright red lipstick. It definitely was better than nothing. Eyes were sucked right towards her lips. It was like a billboard for blowjobs – any man looking at her would see those lips right off, start thinking about how awesome it would be to have a stacked blonde on her knees sucking them off. David always loved her blowjobs. Really, she loved giving them as much as he liked getting them.
Just because she didn’t have pink lips to match her pink makeup and pink nails, pink like her pussy, pink to remind him she was fucking him with her face… it didn’t mean he wouldn’t love it.
Right…?
She tried to keep herself thinking that around the house. She did her strippercise workout (couldn’t find her usual disc for some reason, but she had an easy time finding one on the internet). After, Lauren spent a slow hour and a half teasing herself with her vibrator. She almost came twice, to her embarrassment; the whole idea was to keep herself constantly wet and horny and ready for David.
Lauren might not be much good for conversation, so she made sure to be the perfect sex object as much as possible. Her wonder-hubby deserved that. She tried to read magazines, but she got super bored of anything but fashion and beauty tips. Sometimes she read those cheesy pieces on pleasing your man, but really, those magazines were usually totally lame. She wanted to make her Adonis come like a firehose, not coax a hard-on out of some total loser.
After reading a really smart piece about this year’s bikini season, she devoted another hour and a half to self-arousal, just to make good and sure. She’d for sure thought it was weird how not-horny she’d woken up this morning; luckily David hadn’t wanted a morning quickie before breakfast. She definitely needed to be a better wifey tonight.
He would be home before too long. She’d been lounging around naked all day, mopping up her drippy pussy from the furniture, but maybe it was time to get ready. She went to look herself in the mirror and do a little touch-up, but there it was again, that horrid pinklessness staring back at her. Her hideous red-painted lips that didn’t go with the rest of her at all.
She’d barely managed to get dressed in time, and it had been a pain. None of her bras had been the right size until she’d remembered that super cute one from her bachelorette party that good ol’ Tabitha had gotten her when Lauren had confided her plans to give David the perfect body. She was so helpful. The matching g-string had been too adorbz too pass up wearing with it. Then her butt just wouldn’t squeeze into her pants, so she picked out an adorable pink summer dress to go with it.
(It didn’t show off her tits like she liked, but no big, David had seen those a million times.)
David stepped inside, and his jaw dropped. “Who the… Lauren?!”
It was just like she’d feared. Without her signature pink lip gloss, he barely recognized her. “It’s me, honey. Your Laurie! I promise!”
“But… you… what on earth!” he stammered, still overwhelmed.
Just like she’d feared, he’d noticed the missing pink on her lips the second he walked in. “I know, and I am SO sorry I let this happen. Please, please let me make it up to you. Oh please oh please oh please oh please…” She went on pleading as she threw herself at his feet, her mouth flooding with saliva in anticipation of the deliciousness she was about to take in. 
She was mortified – her hubby had been home for almost a full minute before she’d managed to get him hard! Even with her on her knees, squeezing her big fake tits through her dress for him (and a little for her), even moaning in delight as she began slurping up and down his cock, even as she told him he could fuck her face like a second cunt… it still was almost two whole minutes before he was satisfied enough to just let her suck his dick without more fuss over how different she looked.
And sucking his dick was hard tonight! (She giggled to herself mid-slobbery ball-lick; that was funny.) But seriously, knowing she was sheathing his cock in this lame, boring red that didn’t go with her fingers or toes or eyes or cheeks or especially her pussy at all! It just threw her off her game, sapped so much of her confidence that she had to compensate by just attacking his cock with her tongue, licking and bobbing and slurping and sucking and kissing and stroking his cock like he’d divorce her if she didn’t do good enough. Oh god, he wouldn’t, would he…? 
She bobbed faster.
Soon he came, and came and came. Lauren barely slowed down, swallowing almost as quickly as he could fill her mouth (though a little still dribbled down her chin, manly as her darling David was). 
“Good heavens, Lauren, I don’t know what’s come over you, but…”
She winced. David never called her by her given name; he must still be upset. “Baby, please, let me explain. I wanted soooo badly to look my best for you, and I did everything I could, and I know it’s horrible and I know I shouldn’t have just surprised you with it, but please, just let me give you another blowjob and maybe you’ll see I meant well even if it looks like I lost my head today!”
David listened to her ramble, unsure what to make of this busty blonde babbler with his wife’s face and voice. Why had she padded her bra so it looked like she had the chest of a porn star? What had possessed her to wear a blonde wig? When did she develop such a love of sucking his dick?
Ultimately, though, she was right. Having the determined lips of his adoring wife wrapped around his mouth made it impossible to ponder these questions. Blowjobs weren’t exactly a rarity in their marriage, but they were typically either sporadic, or for special occasions. And today’s blowjob – make that blowjobs – were nothing short of divine. He’d never complained, but now in place of the tepid rhythmic normal, he was getting the kind of blowjob one usually has to pay good money for, or experience vicariously in porn. 
Two in one day, to apologize for making herself into a blonde stereotype on some weird whim… Apology accepted. Then came a third, by which time he just plopped down on the sofa and surrendered to her attentions.
After, she curled up on his lap and laid her head on his shoulder, nuzzling softly at his neck. “So… anything you want to tell me about… this?” he prompted softly. He kept his hand on her waist, feeling weird about the notion of touching her obviously stuffed bra.
Lauren shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it. I feel wretched over the whole thing. I look ridiculous.”
David shook his head. “You look… pretty good, actually. I mean, it’s definitely a big surprise, and I definitely didn’t need this, but it’s exciting, for sure. A good surprise, Lauren.”
She shuddered a little. “Can you call me Laurie? Please?”
Resting his chin atop her head, David arched an eyebrow at the request; Lauren had always disliked nicknames. Some part of this strange ditz roleplay, evidently. “Sure. Laurie.”
They cuddled for a while, and little by little Lauren began to feel better. That was so David, knowing when she just needed to be comforted, and how. Those days when she felt like she’d put on a pound or two and needed to ride him to orgasm to see he didn’t mind the extra weight; or when she they went a couple days without sex and she felt like she must be repellent to him and he bent her over the kitchen table and fucked her ass to remind her he loved every inch of her; the times she just needed him to look at her tits and get hard, not even touching, just showing herself off for her wonder-hubby.
“So I was thinking,” she said after a while, once she’d begun to feel like herself again. “Could we maybe go out and do something about all this?”
“Oh? You, ah, want to go out…? Like that…?”
She nodded. “I know, I know, people are going to stare, but I really need to get my lip gloss.”
“Oh – I thought you meant, like, go out to dinner or something. You just want to run out to Walgreen’s, that’s fine.”
Lauren swatted at his arm playfully. “No, silly, I’d never let you take me out somewhere looking like this. I’d be a laughing stock.” The thought of a restaurant full of strangers seeing some pink-and-red mix on her husband’s arm… it was too awful to contemplate.
“I doubt ‘laughing’ is what people would do,” David said. He’d never really had to deal with people ogling his wife before. He didn’t know how to feel about the thought of it. There were women whose bodies a man fell in love with first and then he got to know her, and there were women who a man got to know and then realized he loved her body. Lauren was the second kind, and usually he was quietly happy that he got to enjoy her charms without worrying about other men’s jealousy.
Lauren heard his words as a rebuke, thinking that it might be more of a pointing and staring. Which was normal – she was a sexy babe with giant boobs and a great butt and loved to show off both – but there was good staring, and bad staring. “I was actually thinking about, maybe, the mall?” she said.
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Um, telling you?”
“Because you sound kind of unsure.”
“I’m sure!” she said, thwapping his chest. “Would you go with me? Pleeeease?”
David managed a smile. He definitely didn’t understand his wife’s sudden kink, but it seemed harmless enough, he supposed. Knowing she was a bit insecure, David tried to compliment her regularly without forcing it. Maybe this was a sign that he needed to step it up.
A short time later, Lauren strode – practically skipped – into the mall. It was her favorite place in the world, a place that made every single problem in the world go away. David trailed a few steps behind, lacking the energy to keep up with his wife after putting in a shift that morning. She didn’t mind – it was a good chance for him to watch her legs, hoping her dress would swish up enough to show off her behind. She loved the feel of men’s eyes on her, most of all David’s.
Nearby, a man turned to gape at her boobs, jiggle madly in her dress as she flounced along in high heels. He collided into a bench and nearly fell right over it. The mall experience was officially underway.
Like any trip to the mall, Lauren began with a simple tour. She wasn’t some kind of smart nerd girl, but the kind of smarts she had definitely extended to mall shopping. Her tour served many purposes at once. First, it updated her on any new stores or boutiques, which were always exciting. Second, she got a chance to browse for sales. (Even if Lauren couldn’t ever quite remember how to do the math for a discount, she never forgot that one existed.) Third, and perhaps most enjoyably, it gave her a chance to strut her stuff.
David just tried to keep up. He’d long since mastered the husbandly art of not complaining about shopping, and today at least his wife was giving him one heck of a show in that dress.
She practiced her sexy walking, one foot slowly in front of the other, butt rippling in waves behind her. A group of teenage boys fell in line behind her to take in the view until David finally had to give the little punks a glare even Lauren’s tantalizingly short dress couldn’t distract from. She posed on the second story railing, leaning out over the railing and gazing around. Beneath her, horny men stared up at her tits thrust out into the open space; behind her, men vainly prayed for a sudden indoor gust to blow up the fabric just a few more inches to show them what was beneath the skirts. 
David stopped beside her, testing the waters of “Laurie’s” permissiveness with a casual hand on her butt. She sighed dreamily, wriggling against his palm. Now it was he who wondered what was under that dress. Her butt felt amazing! Had she changed up her workout without him noticing?
As they passed a men’s store, he excused himself to go snag a couple new shirts as he’d been meaning to do for a while. “You go take another lap, Lauren – Laurie, sorry – and I’ll wait here for you, OK?”
“You can fuck me in the dressing room if you want,” she said softly, firmly grasping his erection through his pants.
He laughed nervously, well aware that the salesman nearby had overheard. “Um, no, I’ll just… you know. Buy shirts. Go have fun, OK?”
So Lauren kept having fun. She firmly told no fewer than six men who tried to hit on her that she was happily married to the man of her dreams. Still, she gave a wink over her shoulder as she bounced away, just to thank them for the compliment. Compliments always got her nice and gushy, her little pink g-string soaking helplessly as it tried to dam the river.
Which reminded her, she’d just come here to get that pink lip gloss. May as well do it while David was occupied, right? He didn’t want to shop for makeup with her.
She headed into a department store where she knew they gave good service. Lauren had the self-discipline not to spend any of David’s money on things she didn’t need – or for things she couldn’t use to please him – but still, it was impossible not to at least browse. She was wending through the aisles, carefully keeping her arms folded behind her back (to keep her expensive fake boobs thrust out to tease the boys with what only David got to play with) (oh yeah, and to keep herself from impulse purchases) when she overheard something that got her attention.
It started with a giggle, which never failed to convince Lauren something might be worth listening to. “Yeah girl, Sean would just love this on you,” said a heavyset teenage girl to the other. 
The first girl blushed, pushing her glasses up her pinched nose. “Oh come on, I couldn’t. It’s so… you know… and besides, it’s not Sean-centric. Any guy would want to get with a girl in that.”
Any guy? Now Lauren wasn’t just curious, she was interested. She approached the two girls, who looked at her nervously as she bounced over. “Can I see?” Lauren asked.
“Um, I’m sorry, who’re you?”
“I’m Laurie!” Lauren chirped.
The girls took a step back. “What do you want?”
Lauren giggled. “You two might be almost as dumb as me! I just told you!”
“What’d you say, lady?” asked the little one.
“No no, it’s Laurie. I meant you’re dumb as a compliment!”
“Screw you!” said the big one.
 Lauren giggled again. “Only my husband gets to screw me. But…” She looked the girls over. The one was way too heavy to consider, but the other girl might do. Incredibly small, but pretty, and David might like that she brought something home for him too. He’d never expressed an interest in fucking some dorky piece of jailbait, but maybe it had just never come up? “You could come join us!”
The girl’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out, she was so shocked, and then they simply turned and ran away. “You’re one crazy slut, lady,” said the big one over her shoulder.
“So… that’s a no?” Lauren asked. “Oh well.”
She turned to look at the clothes the girls had been inspecting, and it took her a moment before she could even believe these t-shirts were for girls. For one, they covered so much! V-necks, sure, but they’d barely show her midriff. For two, all the shirts had all these symbols and words all over them. Worse, she had the sinking suspicion that they were meant to be jokes, but boy jokes – the kind she wasn’t smart enough to get.
Looking at the one the girls had been inspecting, she made the effort to study it. Just because she was too dim to get the joke doesn’t mean David might not like it. Across the front, it read i 1 2 ½ 6. She read it out loud a few times, but it didn’t mean anything to her. Was this something boys would enjoy? Those girls certainly seemed to think so.
Lauren picked it up, holding the shirt in front of her in a nearby mirror. It didn’t make sense backwards either. It’d be really tight on her, which would be cool, but still, it didn’t seem like anything special.
“Nice,” said a voice from behind her. She turned to see some sketchy guy standing there staring.
“You think so? ‘Cause, like, I dunno. I was thinking about getting it for my husband, but I’m not sure he’d get it.”
“Girl like you thinkin’ about a shirt like that… I bet he gets it all the time. Damn lucky man.”
Lauren smiled. Compliments were nice, especially compliments about how she could please her wonder-hubby. “Thanks, mister! I think I just might get it after all.”
Distracted from her lip gloss mission, Lauren headed to the dressing room, just to make sure her tits would look hot in it. She stripped out of her dress, then her bra just to see how her boobs would look in it, and tried it on.
“I one two one half six,” she read out loud again. Wait a minute… “I want to have sex!” she shouted triumphantly. “That’s it, I want to have sex!”
She was still grinning at the joke when one of the store’s employees came into the dressing room. “Ma’am, are you alone in there?”
“Yeah, totes,” Lauren said, then read the shirt one more time, giggling hysterically.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid you need to open the door so I can confirm nothing untoward is happening in there,” the woman said sternly.
Lauren opened the door immediately, not even looking back. In the mirror, she saw the stout employee peer around the stall, then stop on Lauren, gaping. “Oh yeah, sorry, I don’t have pants on,” she apologized casually. “But look look! See how funny this shirt is!”
“Miss, I… sorry,” the woman said, backing away. Lauren forgot to close the door as she admired her reflection. She giggled for another minute or two, posing this way and that. She took a few selfies just for fun. The flash ruined each of them without her even noticing, but if she’d been able to see them, she’d have seen each shot with her hair shortening, darkening, boobs shrinking.
Her butt, still wrapped snugly in its bachelorette party g-string, was just as perky as ever.
With that done, she suddenly realized she’d been flashing her butt to anyone who walked in. How embarrassing! Hopefully nobody saw – her butt was for David’s eyes only.
Only now, she was trapped in the dressing room at war with herself. Part of her wanted to wear the shirt out of the store, surprise David with it, get him a little excited by dressing like she was some smart nerd, like those girls checking it out before her. But part of her wanted to put her bra and her dress back on. After all, she didn’t have a separate pair of pants to put on.
What to do, what to do… the bra was a double D, at least a cup size too big for her (maybe two? Lauren went back and forth), but then, she’d look like an idiot wearing this shirt over her dress.
In a moment of confusion, her mind feeling like it was almost literally being pulled in two different directions, she ran out into the store wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a g-string. In a rush, she looked for the closest pair of pants that would fit and wound up with some dark brown slacks. They were nothing like her usual preference – the only thing pink she’d be wearing would be the g-string – but she could at least leave the dressing room.
She left the bra and dress behind, not quite able to reconcile what had possessed her to try them on in the first place. The bra looked a lot like the one her friend Tabitha had gotten her as a gag gift at her bachelorette party, teasing her about how she was surrendering herself to the patriarchy. Lauren had never been as hard core into feminism as her friend, but she’d shared her contempt for the kind of skanks who dressed like that for men.
Lauren was one of the lucky ones. She had a husband who loved her for her mind. In fact, she stopped back by the section with other nerd girl shirts. Most of them weren’t blatantly sexualizing, like what she’d chosen, but that was an intelligent move on her part, she decided. She and David liked super hero movies and science fiction novels and going to the museum well enough, so dressing according to her interests was certainly sensible, broadcasting topics to others who might wish to initiate dialogue. She also needed to step out of her admittedly tiny comfort zone more often and initiate more of the sexuality in their relationship. This shirt, while she found herself blushing every time she thought about it, would do that.
She paid for the outfits at the counter, surmising the question on the clerk’s face that she had nothing in her hands and was buying all the clothes she’d worn in. Let her wonder, Lauren thought.
Before long she’d made her way back to where she’d left David. She waved, but he didn’t even glance over at her. Lauren had to walk right up to him before he noticed her, and when he did, he practically jumped back. “Laurie? You, ah… you’re not…”
“Please don’t call me that; you know how I hate that nickname.”
“Aha. Right. Lauren, sorry.”
She frowned. “You know only my mother calls me that.”
David was having a hard time forming thoughts as he struggled to make sense of these changes. She’d left a wig-wearing bra-stuffing booty-possessing bimbo, and came back like this? “Sorry, so you’re…”
“Ren?” she supplied. “Honey, are you OK? Maybe we should get you home. I hate when they work you this hard.”
“Right,” David conceded. “Let’s go home.”
He didn’t even read the new shirt, he was so bewildered by her sudden shift. Was she having some kind of nervous breakdown? Should he be taking her to the hospital? This was all very strange, but he tried to imagine how he’d make it sound as such to a doctor. My wife decided to dress up for me and give me blowjobs, then put on slacks and a t-shirt.
Home it was.
The ride home was awkward; Lauren felt self-conscious wearing this shirt, especially since her spouse hadn’t even noticed. He wasn’t feeling talkative either, so she filled the space by talking about the criminal justice reform documentary she’d watched that morning. She felt like she was babbling almost like some bimbo, but she was too nervous to do otherwise. Wearing this shirt, plus her lucky g-string, she’d basically offered herself to her husband tonight. 
Her sex life with David was complicated. For her, at least. She was caught in a vice. On the one hand, she had an incredibly healthy libido; she’d always had a vagina prone to rapid self-lubrication and it took minimal provocation. That’s why she liked to wear the scandalous panties that she did; once things advanced to the point that her pants were off, she was off to the races and wanted to get a man inside her as quickly as humanly possible.
On the other hand, Lauren had always been short, and a little flat, and had been teased by the popular girls at school for being too intellectual. She knew in hindsight that they’d just been lashing out to assert that their strengths were more important than hers, but still, she had a hard time loosening up around men. Even David, who told her all the time how beautiful she was. (Honestly, sometimes she wouldn’t mind fewer of those compliments and more on her achievements in her lab.)
So she was always on the cusp of wanting him to fuck her valedictorian brains out, while at the same time being afraid to let him see her in her underwear. Rationally she knew was just falling victim to the Dunning-Kruger effect in terms of her self-conception of her sex appeal and resulting sexual inexperience, but that didn’t change how she felt.
Lauren did her best, even if she was always worried it wasn’t enough.
“Did you get anything going for dinner?” David asked on the way back.
“No, I was busy at the lab all day,” she said, a bit affronted. “Did you?”
“The lab?” He sighed. “No, Lauren, or Ren, or whoever. Remember, I came home from work and you immediately attacked me and then dragged me out to the mall for lip gloss. You did get the lip gloss, right?”
“Ugh, I hate lip gloss,” she said. She didn’t even like lipstick, much less its stickier, more noticeable cousin. “And I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time earlier.”
“‘Hard time’ is putting it mildly,” David replied. “So let’s just order in tonight, OK? Curl up on the couch, watch a movie, get cuddly? No more drama.”
She nodded. “That sounds wonderful, honey.”
It was during dinner that David finally, finally noticed her shirt, and he nearly spit out a mouthful of broccoli beef. “Lauren!”
“Ren,” she corrected. “I don’t know why that’s so hard for you today.”
“Lauren, your shirt! Did it… did it say that the whole time?”
Lauren blushed, feeling awkward about having someone, even David, staring at her chest. “If you’re asking if I surreptitiously silk-screened a new slogan onto the shirt during the car ride home, then no, David. I am not the t-shirt ninja.”
“But… it’s so… you’re so…” 
She blushed deeper. “I just thought you’d think it was funny is all. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I know I’m not exactly what the t-shirt company had in mind when they designed this.”
David smiled, walking around the table and tilting her chin up. He kissed her, and she returned it bashfully, their mouths creating a nightmare of clashing flavors, but making her feel better nonetheless.
He didn’t say anything more about it after that. In fact, neither of them said much at all as they cleaned up after dinner and made their way to the couch, throwing a nice heavy blanket across them. David let her pick the movie, and she turned on Wild Things.
“Seriously?” David asked.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I was having a talk with Janie at the lab the other day about the plight of educators whose careers are placed in jeopardy from accusations by their students, and I thought back to this one, thought I’d given it another try.”
Actually, she’d picked it because a bunch of hot girls were in it and she hoped she could get her husband nice and horny for her. He seemed to be on to her gambit, though. “Yeah, because the difficult world of education is what this movie’s best known for,” he mumbled as the opening credits began to play.
David put his arm around her and she nestled up beside him, wishing there was some way he could have her shirt’s slogan in his peripheral. She was so hot for him that she was pretty sure the wet spot would be visible through her pants by now.
Before long, her moment came. She’d seen the movie once when it came out (and had as always been studying while she watched TV), but she still knew about the infamous scene where Denise Richards and Neve Campbell had a threesome with Matt Dillon. It was too bad the latter didn’t expose herself; while Lauren didn’t fancy she was the equal of the actress, they had a very similar body type. Even their hair was pretty close.
David was thinking the same thing. “You know, you two actually look quite a bit alike,” she said as the actors began undressing. The heat in her crotch doubled in an instant. 
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. Besides, why would you even want to look at her with the other one right there?” She ran her fingers up David’s leg, finding him surprisingly hard already. Was he having the same kind of day she was?
David neither moved nor spoke when she unzipped his fly and freed his cock for her. Lauren imagined him going into her, how easily he’d slide in, how much he’d stretch the walls of her pussy, how full and perfect she’d feel. She reached into her pants and took a long rub across her sopping wet pussy. He’d probably put his impressive cock right there if she asked. 
“David, darling, would you please please rip these stupid pants off of me and fuck me until my voice gives out from screaming?” she wanted to say.
Instead, far too nervous to ask her husband for anything in return, she took her pussy-slicked hand and began giving him a nice slow handjob. Even this, she was so nervous she worried he’d feel her hand shaking, which she was sure it was.
To distract from any inadequacies on her part, she used the movie. “Look at that girl’s big b-breasts,” she said in a voice as tremulous as her grip. Dirty talking was very hard for her, but easier about someone else than herself. “They’re so… so…”
“Big?” David supplied, smiling at her.
She nodded. “Big. Big, and… and… and bouncy,” she added. Not that they really were. The whole thing was done in a very slow-moving soft-core porno style. Still, big bouncy breasts were hot, right? She hoped they were. She was such a hopeless geek.
“Now if only we could get Neve to show us hers,” David said. “I bet they look a lot like these.” He moved his hand down to squeeze her left breast, pinching at her nipple through the fabric. God she loved it when he touched her. Why couldn’t she be the kind of woman who drove him to this more often?
“I bet they do too, she ventured. “Would you, um, like to see them? Since you can’t see hers.”
“I dunno, I’ll miss that adorable little slut t-shirt you got today,” David teased. But then he gently reached around her and tugged up on her shirt until her breasts were both exposed, the “i 1 2 ½ 6” bunching up around her neck. He massaged her breasts and teased at her nipples while she kept stroking him, both of their attention riveted on the vastly superior breasts – tits, really – on the screen.
Lauren wondered for a moment what she’d look like with long dyed-blonde hair and huge fake boobs. Ridiculous, no doubt. Though if it made David stare after her the way he was now staring at Denise… 
No. No, it was too much. Her butt was already so pronounced that she had guys wondering if it was a fake, but she’d just carefully designed an exercise regimen to keep it just so. David loved her butt. It was her asset she was proudest of.
Still didn’t compare with the tits on screen, but Denise didn’t get to jack David off, now did she?
With her free hand, she rewound to the start of the scene and let it play again, repeating several times as she and her husband groped one another. She kept hoping and praying he’d want to take it to the next level, but every time she went to ask, her voice failed her.
David came without her even knowing it was coming, and it shot out halfway across the room.
“Sorry!” she squeaked, not quite knowing what she was sorry for other than regretting that it hadn’t happened inside her pussy, which was currently radiating heat like a furnace. She grabbed some tissues from the box on the end table and dove down to the floor and started searching the dark room for signs of where the semen had landed.
“L-- Ren, I know what you’re trying to do.”
She looked over her shoulder at him. “What, clean up the mess I made?”
“No, I mean, on your hands and knees, with your butt at me…”
“I’m not trying to do anything,” she said. In fact, she hadn’t been; shaking her butt at her husband had been entirely accidental, and now she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it on her own. It’s like her brain was too full of biochemistry knowledge to have room for basic girl stuff.
“I can see the wet spot from here, Lauren. I just… I’m sorry, I got nothing left in the tank. After that handjob, and then three blowjobs earlier today, I’m just spent, honey. But if you get that cute caboose of yours back over here, I’ll gladly find another way to take care of you.”
Lauren barely heard that last part. Her husband had just casually admitted to receiving not one, not two, but three blowjobs today – blowjobs she obviously hadn’t given. He’d cheated on her, and didn’t even feel embarrassed by it.
On the screen in front of her, the “big bouncy breasts” of an actress reminded her that there were lots of other women out there, and when she could barely do a handjob right, how could she expect him to stay faithful to her? But who, and when, and how?
Then she thought back to his awkward behavior earlier, the slips of the tongue.
“Three blowjobs… from Laurie, you mean.”
“Yeah, those three. Three fast and furious blowjobs, and only just right after work like that… that’s a lot for any man, you know? Especially as motivated and wild as ‘Laurie’ was.”
“I… I’ll bet,” she said, dabbing the floor with her tissue. Laurie. She’d never heard her husband mention a Laurie before, but if that’s how things were, the reason for it seemed obvious enough.
“Still, I’d take you over her any day.”
Lauren turned back. “You would?”
He nodded, beckoning her to him. Slowly, she obeyed. “You bet I would. I mean, no offense, but Laurie struck me as kind of an airhead.” There it was; he really had been off face-fucking some bimbo.
She stood up, but when David reached out to begin removing her pants, she begged off. He had to ask three times, insisting he wanted to get her off, before she finally, numbly let him strip her down.
“Whoa, where’d you get those?” he asked, noticing her little pink g-string. “They make your ass look amazing, babe.”
She smiled a little at that. “Thanks. Just something I had in the closet.”
“Well they’re hot as hell,” he said, tugging them down. “I’d swear my eyes are playing tricks on me, your butt looks so good tonight. I… could we…”
“Could we what?” she asked. Heaven help her, she was still so horny, and still so much in love, she wanted him inside her as much as ever. Maybe more.
“Do you think you could maybe use your mouth on me, just to get me started again? You know, like Laurie did earlier.”
It stung, but still, if she was going to save her marriage, maybe this was what she needed – someone to race against her, so to speak. “I’d love to,” she heard herself say.
Lauren didn’t know much about giving head, so she did her best. It took a while, and her jaw was sore by the time she’d managed it, but in time she felt her husband good and solid in her mouth.
She’d done it. She could suck dick as well as that bimbo Laurie.
David didn’t waste words. He simply put his hands on her hips, bent her over, and started fucking right in the middle of the room. He was fully buried in a single thrust, and Lauren’s poor under-fucked pussy felt like it was being fucked by a jackhammer. A sexy, loving, wonderful, fleshy jackhammer. She hung there, suspended only by the strength of her husband’s grip, letting herself just become like that other woman, a hot wet place for David to stick his cock. He’d like that – being allowed to fuck how and when he wanted.
She just wanted him to be happy. Somehow, even with what he’d just admitted, she could feel the same from him.
After getting off four times that day, he had the stamina of a mule. Lauren had always possessed a bit of a hair trigger, and she literally almost passed out from the sheer magnitude of the countless orgasms that slammed through her. As David stiffened during his final climax, the thought alone of what she’d been able to do brought her to her biggest yet, and with a screech of bliss, she collapsed on her face, unconscious before his seed even spilled into her.
David gently picked up his wife and tucked her into bed. She never slept in the nude, but he didn’t feel like trying to dress her body. She’d seemed so… odd today, and he hoped a good night’s sleep would be just what she needed to feel right again.
He couldn’t resist a few peeks, then a few gropes, then a single pinch, of Lauren’s incredible ass. He’d swear it hadn’t looked like that yesterday. But then, yesterday he would’ve sworn she’d never roleplay a cum-thirsty bimbo or an adorably nervous geek caricature either.
That night, his dreams were all of his wife, in a thousand different styles of dress and undress, but always his adoring wife underneath each persona and character. It was the first time in his life he’d had a sex dream that paled in comparison to the real thing. What had come over her? And how could he keep it coming?
“Morning sleepyhead,” he said as she finally stirred the next morning.
“Mmf. I’m so tired,” she said. “And… sore. Why am I… am I… naked?!” She self-consciously clutched the blankets up to her neck, covering herself.
He laughed. “Yeah, you crashed pretty hard last night, my little wild thing. I’ve never seen you climax so hard you literally pass out.”
“I… I never!” she said. “Last night, we just fell asleep watching TV!”
“It’s Sunday, sweetie. That was Friday night.”
“I know what day it is, and I think I’d remember if I had sex last night!” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Sorry, I just feel weird. I’m going to take a shower. Lauren blushed at her nakedness, and in a rush darted off to the bathroom before he could get too much of a look.
What he did see, though, was that her ass was the usual trim, flat thing he remembered. That hadn’t been a dream – he’d remembered that booty. Yet today it was gone, the butt equivalent of dropping two cup sizes in a day.
Just what the hell was going on?