Bra Shopping

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I think everyone will agree; buying a bra is the worst! Well, not everyone, but at least everyone who’s ever tried to buy a bra. They come in hundreds of sizes and styles, and none of them ever fit. Even if they’re labeled the same, they’re never even close to the same size. And nobody makes one my size.Last week, I went after work to try to buy a bra. I went to one of the national department stores at our local mall. The ladies intimate apparel department was in the back of the store, and there were six changing rooms right there, three on each side of a little hallway. There was a cash register nearby, with two salespeople working there.I spent a few minutes looking through the offerings. The only thing I was sure of was the color; black, to go under my little black dress for a holiday party coming up. I’m five feet ten inches tall, and I weigh 140 pounds. My breasts aren’t too large; I’ve been wearing a 36B for years. They always seem too tight around, and too big in the cup. I often have to add a little kleenex to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric. Nobody makes a 38A, which probably wouldn’t fit anyway.I picked out one that I kind of liked. It was black with a bit of lace along the top edge, and a tiny bow right at the bottom of the cleavage. The cleavage went all the way to the bottom; it was only about a half inch wide at etimesgut escort that point. I took two, 36B and 38B, and walked over to the older of the sales ladies and asked, “May I try these. I have trouble getting them to fit right.”“Of course. The changing rooms are right over here.” She pointed, then started walking in that direction. I thanked her and followed her toward the changing area. All six rooms were available. She started straightening one of the racks near the entrance.I went into the first room on the right and closed the door. I unzipped my dress; rather, I tried to unzip my dress. The zipper jammed right in the middle of my back. I couldn’t get it either up or down. I opened the door; she was still there, arranging things. She was a bit shorter than me and curvier; she looked to be about fifty years old. “Could you help me for a minute. My zipper is jammed.”She walked over and stepped into the changing room with me. It was larger than some I’ve used, but a bit crowded for two. I turned my back to her, and she started to work on the zipper.“Oh, I see. You’ve caught a bit of the edge. I think I can work it loose.” I could feel both of her hands on my back.After a few seconds, the zipper pull moved up, apparently coming loose from the jam. She said, “There. Got it. Do you want me eryaman escort to pull it down while I’m here?”“Oh, yes, please,” I said. “I always find back zippers hard to manage.”She zipped the zipper down all the way. I pulled the sleeves down my arms and turned. I was standing with my dress at my elbows, my upper body bare except for my bra. “Thank you very much,” I said. She pushed the door open and stepped out. “Oh, my pleasure.” She stood in the doorway, looking at me for a moment. Then she cleared her throat quietly and turned to go. She pushed the door closed behind her.I dropped my dress to the floor and stepped out of it, then hung it on a hook on the wall. Standing in my panties, pantyhose, and bra, I reached around my back to unhook the bra. The clasps on this one were really tight. I got the upper one loose, but I couldn’t get the lower hook to snap free. I struggled with it for a minute or so, then opened the door again and looked out again. The sales clerk was still straightening a rack a few feet away.“Excuse me again. I seem to have another wardrobe issue.” She looked at me.  “I can’t get my bra unhooked.”She smiled and walked over. “I’ll give you a hand. I’m Marilyn.”“Thank you, Marilyn. I’m Beth. Nice to meet you.”“And you,” she said. “Turn around, and let me see.” I turned, and sincan escort she took the back of the bra in her hands. She twisted and wiggled, and eventually got the clasp to snap loose. “The bottom clip is bent a little, and it’s too tight. Would you like me to try and straighten it?”“Oh, no, that would be too much bother.”“It’s not a problem at all. As you may have noticed, we’re not busy, and I’d love to help.”I turned to face Marilyn, and let the bra slide down my arms a bit. “That would be wonderful. Thank you so much.” We were standing about six inches apart.Marilyn reached into the space between us, and took my bra in both hands. I slid my arms out of the straps. We both stood there for a second. Then Marilyn cleared her throat again, “Ahem. I guess I’d better get to it, then.” She didn’t move.I could feel my nipples stiffen. I hadn’t been with a woman since a friend and I had fooled around a bit back in high school. I had the feeling it might not be much longer if I wanted. “Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, “I guess you need to get to it. Thank you.”I was breathing hard, and my nipples were stiff. Marilyn stood in the doorway, my bra in her hand. I could see the outlines of her nipples through her blouse. She seemed a bit flushed and was maybe breathing a little faster than before. I willed my arm to reach out to her, but before it moved, she turned away, and gently pushed the door shut again.I took the smaller bra off of the hanger and slid my arms into it. I reached behind my back, to clip it. It was going to be too tight, even at the loosest setting. That was the problem I always had with 36’s; just a bit too small.

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