A very slutty competition…

“Sarah! Have you put it on yet?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not yet.”

“What are you waiting for? It’ll look amazing on you!”

“Oh my God, shut up!” I shouted, embarrassment flowing through me. Standing in the changing room, I held the outfit at arms length from me, my hand completely visible through the mesh fabric, wondering how the hell I’d let her talk me into this. Outside, the sound of footsteps, hangers clacking, occasional laughter. Max was somewhere beyond the curtain too, probably scrolling his phone and wondering how he’d been roped into a girls’ holiday shopping trip.

I held the outfit up to the light. “Julie, it’s practically see-through.”

“That’s the point!” she shouted, her voice filled with glee and mischief.

“Fine, I’ll put it on, but I’m not coming out!”

Julie didn’t answer.

I braced myself, peeling off my clothes, putting them in a pile beside me, and sliding the new outfit over me. The fabric was tight, pushing and pulling across my skin. I stood back from the mirror and looked at myself.

“I can hear that silence,” Julie said knowingly, an audible smirk in her voice. “It must look real good, huh?”

“It looks ridiculous,” I shouted back. *Ridiculously slutty*, I thought, but I wasn’t about to shout that over the partition in a clothing store. “I’m taking it off.”

“Wait!” she shouted. “Let me see!”

“No!” I said, covering my breasts instinctively, my nipples poking through the mesh. I thought of us in our separate beds the night before, about what had happened between us. “Absolutely not. You’re not seeing me like this.”

Julie scoffed. “I hate to break this to you, but you’re my best friend, Sarah. You’ve got nothing to hide from me. I’m coming in.”

“I’m serious! Don’t you dare–”

The curtain rustled violently, a hand appeared, and then Julie slipped inside. She shut the curtain behind her with a flourish.

“Oh…my…god,” she said, her eyes going wide. “Sarah!”

“What?” I asked, but I already knew.

“You look…” She made a helpless gesture, her hand over her lips. She shook her head. “Seriously. I mean…fuck. Turn around.”

“No!”

“Turn around!”

She lunged playful toward me, grasping my shoulders and spinning me. The palms of my hands hit the wall to stop me from spinning, my legs slightly spread. I stepped back helplessly and let her take me in.

“Your ass…” she said. “It looks incredible.”

I felt my skin crawl with embarrassment and excitement, a compliment from my best friend taking on new meaning after listening to her cum in the middle of the night. I took my hands from the wall, feeling exposed, feeling vulnerable, but Julie was already circling me like some kind of predator, adjusting a strap on my shoulder, tugging the hem into place, brushing a stray bit of hair off my collarbone. I knew that every touch was completely unnecessary; it's like she *wanted* to touch me.

And I was letting her.

“I knew this would suit you,” she said, still looking at me, running her hand across the tight mesh on the side of my breasts, making me shiver. “But I didn’t know it would suit you *this* much. It’s like it was *made* for you.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“No,” she replied simply, then stepped back, assessing me again. Her hands moved to her own breasts, pressing the soft flesh there, making my heartbeat quicken. For a moment, neither of us said anything, and then her eyes lit up with an idea. I recognised the look and knew instantly it would be trouble.

“No,” I said, already bracing myself. “Whatever it is, I’m not–”

“Max!” she called brightly. “Come here a sec!”

I squeeled, lunging for my clothes, but she snatched them up from the bench before I could get to them and pinned me against the wall with her ass, leaving me exposed and trapped and vulnerable.

“What’s up?” Max asked, appearing by the curtain.

“Sarah wants your opinion,” she said, stepping aside, revealing me to him. I froze, and so did Max.

And I understood why.

I could see myself in the mirror; the way my nipples poked out from the netting, hard from the excitement, completely on display for them both; the way the smooth mound of my pussy was no less visible through the thin mesh of the panties; the way my ass bulged beyond the protruding bone of my hips. Max’s eyes flicked up and down, his throat bobbing.

“Wow,” he said softly.

I wanted the floor to swallow me.

I wanted to disappear.

I wanted him to say it again.

“C’mon,” Julie prodded, nudging him with her elbow. “You can do better than that.”

“Julie…” I chastised through gritted teeth.

Max, still looking at me with an expression that made my stomach twist, turned bright red. “Okay…fine…ummm…you look fucking hot.”

Julie glanced at me, then at him, then back at me again. Her smile widened, pleased with the little scenario she had orchestrated. For a few seconds, none of us said anything. I just stood there, my pussy and tits on display for my best friend and a guy I met less than forty-eight hours ago.

What a slut.

A shop assistant cleared their throat from somewhere behind Max and all three of us jolted like guilty teenagers, sudden awareness of the situation coming back to me. Julie burst out laughing and handed me my clothes, pushing Max out of the changing cubicle and following him out, but not before turning back to me and giving me a wink.

Our shopping trip was over.

***

We were both perched on our own beds, each with a hotel flannel in hand, removing our makeup with some over-the-top Spanish-language melodrama playing on the TV. Every so often a character shouted something passionate and we’d both glance up despite not understanding the language, and then return to removing our cosmetics. Outside, a scooter buzzed down the coastal road.

“So,” Julie said casually, still looking at the TV as she rubbed at her eyeliner. “What’s your kissing game like?”

“My…what?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard her correctly.

“Your kissing game,” she repeated, flicking her eyes toward me.

I let out a short laugh. “I’ve not had any complaints…”

“So like…a seven out of ten?” she teased.

“No!” I laughed, reaching for my micellar water. “Like a high nine.”

She turned sideways on her bed to face me properly, one leg folded under the other, her heel pressing into her cotton panties, her loose vest top doing little to contain her breasts. “How can you be sure?”

I tried to keep my movements neat and calm, but my chest already felt tight. “This is stupid. Why are we talking about this?”

“Because,” she said, dabbing at the corner of her eye. “I need to know how good my competition is. I need to know that if you beat me you’re gonna finish the job properly…”

“Well, I am!” I paused. “You saw the way he looked at me in that changing room today. The game’s basically over, bitch.” I dabbed the micellar water under my eyes.

“I knew it,” Julie grinned, placing the flannel on her nightstand and flopping back on the bed, hair fanning around her head.

“Knew what?” I asked.

She rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand, looking at me with infuriating focus. “You always pretend you’re so shy, and then…”

She shrugged.

“What?” I said, irritated now. “What are you implying?”

She shrugged. “The way you let him look at you in that outfit...your big boobs on display for him, your little pussy barely covered. You loved it, didn’t you?”

“No!” I lied.

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “It’s good. It’s hot.”

My throat went dry. “Well…thanks then, I guess.”

“Anyway,” she said, sitting up straight. “Prove it.”

I frowned. “Prove what?”

“That you’re a good kisser.” She rolled her eyes, gesturing between us. “Kiss me how you’d kiss Max and I’ll give you an honest rating.”

I laughed.

“I’m serious. What if you finally get him alone and you panic and do that weird frozen thing you do when someone compliments you?”

“I do not do a weird frozen thing,” I protested. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But you kind of want to know, don’t you?”

I stared down at my hands, twisting the flannel between my fingers.

“See?” she said. “This is the weird freezing thing you do.”

She slid off her bed and padded the two steps across the room, the light from the TV catching in her hair. I’d seen Julie cross the space between two beds a thousand times–coming to steal my phone charger, to throw a pillow at me, to shove her cold feet under my duvet–but this was different.

“Scoot over.”

I did as I was told, shifting back until my shoulders rested against the headboard. She moved up beside me, cross-legged, close enough that our knees touched.

“Okay. Let’s try it,” she murmured, and suddenly, she seemed a little nervous too. She lifted her hand, hesitated for half a second, then cupped my jaw lightly. “Is this okay?”

*What the fuck it happening?* I asked myself.

But on the outside, I nodded.

“Good,” she said, and shifted closer, our knees pressing more firmly together. She tilted my face very slightly toward hers and closed the distance.

I felt a jolt of electricity as my lips made contact with hers, my best friend of several years pushing herself against me. Her lips were soft and warm and careful and plump and I allowed it to happen. My eyes closed, half in surprise, half in pleasure, and she didn’t rush. Instead, she just pressed her mouth to mine in a slow, deliberate way that gave me time to react, to decide if I was going to pull away or lean in.

I leaned in.

Mirroring her pressure, I pushed back against her, her lips parting a fraction, my tongue tasting her lip gloss, my body angling itself a little closer as her thumb brushed my cheek reassuringly. She pulled back a millimetre, enough to breathe a word against my lips.

“Good.”

The praise made me wet, and before I had time to think about what that might mean, she kissed me again, deeper this time, a little faster, her hand moving up my leg, fingers curling around the fabric of my shorts, pulling them down a little, the sensation making me open my mouth a little wider, allowing her tongue to find its way to mine. The Spanish drama continued in the background and my legs opened slightly, involuntarily. I wanted to lift her pajama top up over her head and push her backwards and suck on her nipples and slide my hands between her–

She pulled away suddenly.

“Well that settles it,” she said, her gaze dropping briefly to my mouth, then back up, her voice a little breathless. “You’re right. Definitely a nine. Maybe even a nine point five.”

“Thanks,” I tried to roll my eyes, but it came out more like a dazed flutter.

“I almost *want* you to win, now,” she giggled. “Max would be a lucky guy!” she added, annoyingly casual. She stood up suddenly and stretched, pushed out her ass, her top rising and exposing her tanned midriff, her bottoms so low-slung it would only take the slightly tug to expose what I assumed to be a perfectly soft–

“Sarah…” Julie said with another grin. “It’s rude to stare.”

“I wasn’t staring!”

But Julie didn’t say anything, she just moved back to her own bed and got beneath the covers. I lay there, upright against the headboard, for a long moment. My heart was still racing, my body buzzing with a strange mix of calm and agitation.

Eventually, I slid down under the sheet, turning onto my side to face the space between our beds. Julie’s back was to me now, a small, familiar curve under the thin hotel duvet.

And I realised, lying there alone, the feel of her lips still on mine, the outline of her body only a few inches away, that this wasn’t just about Max.

She was teasing me, too.

[Hope everyone’s still enjoying this, let me know if you want more x]