Bombshell
Chapter 3
Caterina awoke to daylight, the memory of her previous night sharp, and yet distant, like a memorable event from long ago. She was lying under her covers nude again. At once she turned towards the closet, and saw the black silk and red lace outfit, hanging there once again, looking clean and crisp as if she’d never worn it at all. Had it all been another dream? How much of it?
She swung her legs out from under the covers and stood, letting the comforter fall to the floor. She felt remarkably refreshed, and her skin felt as clean and soft as if she’d just bathed and powdered herself, not even slightly clammy as a night under the covers was apt to do. She leaned in towards the mirror and examined her face. She looked and felt perfectly clean in every way. Yet she knew she’d been overcome with desire the night before, and that she should feel the traces of her arousal on her skin.
She was interrupted from her reverie by the distant sound of a door closing. She turned to the clock. She’d over-slept again, and now Marylin had arrived, for they were due to go to brunch together. She turned toward her closet and searched hurriedly for something to wear.
“Caterina? Are you up there?” Marilyn was calling from the stairway.
“Just a minute,” Caterina answered.
“You sound frantic, darling, is everything all right?”
“I just need to get dressed,” said Caterina, silently cursing her ransacked closet.
“Is something the matter?” Marilyn was just outside the door.
“I just don’t have anything to wear,” Caterina huffed.
Marilyn opened the door. “Oh, well,” she said, “that’s something I’m well qualified to assist with.”
Caterina reached for a silk dressing gown. She certainly had nothing to hide from Marilyn, but somehow she felt more self-conscious standing there than she did when her mentor might help her coax her breasts into a tight-fitting garment before a photo shoot.
Marilyn cast a glance at the overflowing laundry hamper. “Is your laundry service on strike?”
“No,” Caterina answered with a shrug, “nothing seems to fit right.”
“Oh,” said Marilyn wisely, “I understand.”
Caterina cast her eyes about uncertainly. Marilyn was obviously implying that she was on her period, but she was two weeks from that. Marilyn seemed to notice her reaction and her mouth dropped in shock.
“Weight gain? Oversleeping? Caterina, are you...?”
“No!” Said Caterina at once. “I mean, I wondered too, but I tested and I’m not.”
“Maybe you should go see the doctor,” suggested Marilyn.
“No, no, I’m just having an off day,” insisted Caterina.
“All right, poor dear, why don’t we just stay in then?”
Caterina sighed. “All right.”
“So just throw on something comfortable,” said Marilyn, glancing across the long wall of open closets. Her eyes came to rest on the black and red bustier with its matching accouterments. “What is this, now?” She said with a raised eyebrow, “A gift from Jeff?”
“No,” Caterina replied, shaking her head, “I was going to ask you if you knew where it came from. It was just sitting here, wrapped in a box.”
“I have no idea,” said Marilyn, “it sure is pretty, though, isn’t it?” She reached out and let the back of her hand glide over the loosely hanging fabric.
“I suppose,” said Caterina carefully, stepping into the walk-in closet where most of her casual clothes were. Somewhere in the back, she knew there a few items which hadn’t fit well which she’d meant to return.
“If it fits you, it must look amazing,” said Marilyn.
“It fits all right,” replied Caterina.
“No tags or anything. Not even a size. It’s so finely crafted, I can hardly even see the stitching.”
“Yes, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Me either,” said Marylin. “I’m quite a connoisseur, as you know. I simply must know who made this!”
“I’ll let you know if I ever find out,” said Caterina. She’d found a long blue cotton skirt and couldn’t remember why she hadn’t liked it. She pulled it on and still couldn’t see a flaw in it.
“I’ve never seen silk so smooth,” said Marylin almost reverently. Caterina wondered what it was about the garment that seemed to capture one’s attention so fully? She stepped up towards the drawers and retrieved a pair of cotton panties, and slid them on under the skirt. As she smoothed the skirt down and glanced in the mirror she remembered what the problem was. The skirt showed her panty lines. Oh, well, she reasoned. It’s only us in the house today. I’ll just go without. And she slipped the underwear back down her legs and cast them aside.
“I was going to say it was European, but I’ve never seen closures like this,” Marilyn continued, “maybe it’s Japanese? But, no, no Japanese would understand how to flatter a full European figure like ours with such art.”
Caterina picked a bra from the next drawer and pulled it on over her shoulders, pulling and prodding until her breasts were comfortably and securely contained, and then snapped the garment closed. She glanced down the rows again, wondering what to do for a top.
“I couldn’t have dreamed up a more beautiful ensemble,” rambled Marilyn. Why was she still going on, wondered Caterina. It was so unlike her. Caterina could see, on the edge of the sprawling laundry pile, a blue cotton blouse that would match perfectly. It’s not really dirty, she reasoned, I only tossed it in there because it didn’t look good with those shorts. She stepped towards it, picked it up, pulled it over her head, and turned to check herself in the mirror.
It was then that she noticed that Marilyn had taken off her clothes and was now wearing the black and red bustier. She was in the act of affixing the stockings to the garters. Caterina’s jaw dropped. Sharing clothes was one thing, but sharing undergarments, and without asking?
“I hope you don’t mind,” said Marilyn, turning to regard herself in the wide mirror, “I couldn’t resist. I just knew it would fit me perfectly.”
“It fits me just fine,” said Caterina. She felt something bubbling up inside her. Was it jealousy?
“Oh, I just want to know so I can order one for myself,” said Marilyn, “and you have to admit it looks pretty amazing on me. We’re similar, but not that similar. It would be too tight on you.”
“Not at all,” said Caterina, but she had to admit that the older woman had a point. It did seem to flatter her figure perfectly, and Caterina was an inch taller and an inch wider around the hips. Caterina had never seen Marilyn look so sexy, not even when she’d done her most famous work in her twenties. But Marilyn was posing and preening in front of the mirror, and it made Caterina’s blood boil.
“The color is made to suit me,” Caterina said.
“Oh, come now Cat, we go to the same colorist, and I know your formula.”
Caterina flinched at the nickname, which she’d never liked. “Take it off,” she said, “let me show you how it’s supposed to look.”
“Maybe later,” said Marilyn, turning back towards the mirror, and running her hands up and down over the fabric, “I want to relish this a little longer. It’s almost like the embrace of a new lover...”
Caterina took a step closer. “Come on, it’s mine.”
“You don’t even know where you got it. Maybe it was meant for me?”
“That’s ridiculous. Why would someone put it in my bedroom for you to have it?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but it wouldn’t be here... you wouldn’t have seen it unless... unless I loved it so much.”
“Oh, Caterina, you’re blushing,” teased Marilyn, “did wearing it turn you on too?”
Caterina couldn’t bring herself to answer. She just glowered.
“Fine,” said Marilyn all of a sudden, “I will take it off. But first I just want you to feel how good it feels against my skin, so you can know what you’re depriving me of.”
“I know how it feels,” said Caterina.
“But it feels so much nicer on me, it just has to.” Marilyn took a step closer to Caterina, and took the younger girl’s hand in hers.
“This is...” Caterina wanted to say that it was wrong, what was happening, but the words failed.
“This is so right,” countered Marilyn, closing her eyes as Caterina’s hand came to rest on the silk over her side. The silk seemed almost to tingle with energy under her touch. Caterina realized she was holding her breath, and then she was acutely aware of the lascivious tone of her exhalation, of her breath crossing the space between them to disperse over the bare skin of Marilyn’s chest.
That was where she was staring, Caterina realized, at the spot where Marilyn’s breasts were pressed together. Anyone who ever set eyes on Marilyn had to come away wondering how, at over fifty years old, she still managed to keep some of the finest cleavage in Hollywood. Caterina, of course, knew most of the answer, and in fact lived it, her own bosom being the cornerstone of her career. But she’d never gotten over her fascination over her mentor’s breasts. She’d never had occasion to see them more revealed than clad in a bra.
Perhaps that’s why, instead of lying passive, at that moment Caterina’s hand slid up to caress the bottom edge of Marilyn’s silk-encased breast. Both of them shivered at the sensation of soft flesh giving ever so slightly under trembling fingers. Caterina realized that she’d never actually touched another woman’s breasts. Plenty of time she’d accepted help with her own wardrobe, but she’d never had incident to know what another pair of breasts would feel like in her hands.
Suddenly she realized that she’d found the answer to why men loved breasts so much. There was something deeply satisfying about feeling the weight of a nice pair of mams spilling over fingers. Her hands started moving in a circular motion. She leaned forward and tentatively nuzzled against the soft flesh. Her other hand clapped down on Marylin’s hip. Marylin stepped closer, her body pressing close. Caterina’s lips pressed moistly against the silk. They probed, intrigued by the flitting friction of the fine fabric. Her tongue slipped out. Her lips closed over a nipple. She could feel it throb and expand against the tight weave of cool fibers which encased it.
I would never do this, she heard herself think, I would never even think of it and neither would Marilyn. But I should have, I should have long ago. Her body is so perfect, it should never lack for a loving touch, for a pair of hands to trace the shape of perfection incarnate.
Suddenly her own breasts felt oppressively constrained within her clothes, the elastic of the bra tight around her torso, the fabric of the tank top itchy against her skin. She let her hands slip down to grasp the hem of the shirt. She whipped it fluidly over her head without letting herself lose contact with Marylin, with the silky bustier. Then with one hand she reached back and unsnapped the bra, and pulled it free from her arms, letting it fall to the floor. She felt an intense gravity, then, a compelling desire that made her shiver. She lifted her own tits in her hands, leaned forward, and let her tits come into contact with the silky object of her adoration.
A jolt of erotic electricity shot through her breasts as they ran over the taut silk. She gasped, then moaned, and hugged her arms around Marylin. She felt her hands fall on the slip of skin on Marylin’s back, between bustier and panties. Marylin inhaled sharply at the sensation. The sound made Caterina look up at her mentor’s face. She had a sudden burst of fear—I should not be doing this, she worried for a moment. But then she saw that the expression of ecstasy on Marylin’s face, and knew that she was doing exactly right. She let her hands slide up Marylin’s back.
Marylin met her gaze. Caterina knew at once what was going to happen, but dared not let herself think it, not even as the gaze held, not even as Marylin’s hands circled her bare waist, not even as she was pulled forward, not even as their lips met.
Marylin’s lips were soft, unfamiliar. There was a long moment of tentative waiting with lips touching, but then Marylin tilted her head ever so slightly, and they began to explore each other’s passion through their lips. Their hands roamed, the room was full of the sound of their noses flaring to bring in enough air to fuel their pounding hearts.
Caterina had never really considered being with another woman. Though she had at times found female beauty and sexuality to be attractive, even at times arousing, sexual pleasure had always been closely tied to maleness, to the contrast of a man’s body against hers. Now she was considering what it would be like to have sex with Marylin, what it would be like to press her lips to the older woman’s sex. Would Marylin like the same things that she did? Would it be like being her own ideal partner, like third-person masturbation, or something else entirely? But right then, in that moment, she knew that she had to find out. Slowly, she started to slide down, keeping her body pressed tightly against Marylin’s silky form. She looked up into the needful blue eyes as her body and hands traced the contours of her new lover.
Finally, she found herself face to face with the silk panties. Remembering how it had felt to touch herself through them, she nuzzled them with her nose and cheek. She could feel the warm wetness of Marylin’s arousal underneath. She could feel the scratch of Marylin’s sparse pubic hair, feel the bumps of her thick outer lips. She inhaled deeply, savoring the woman-ness of her. She shivered in anticipation of the new ground she was about to cover.
But then something strange happened. A bulge started to form in the front of the panties. Caterina knew at once what it had to be. She felt the moment of lust come full circle. Even as she’d come to terms with this bending of her sexuality, a large, erect penis was forming of the fabric of the panties Marylin was wearing.
Caterina looked up at Marylin, who seemed to be startled, and somewhat in awe. She looked back at the penis, which twitched.
“Touch it,” blurted Marylin.
Caterina looked up at her, considering.
“Touch it, you have to,” gasped Marylin, nudging her lips forward, making the thing bob. Caterina reached up and glanced a hand along the side of the aberrant phallus. Marylin gasped and curled her toes. “My god,” she said, “that feels amazing. I don’t know where it came from but I don’t care. Touch it more, please!”
The needfulness of Marylin’s pleading sent a chill down Caterina’s spine, and she knew what she had to do. She leaned forward and licked the head of the taut silk with her tongue. Marylin groaned in a way that reminded Caterina very distinctly of the first blowjob she’d ever given, to a boy from high school. Marylin seemed to be experiencing the same rush of unfamiliar stimulation as a teenage boy getting his penis touched for the first time. “More,” she breathed.
Caterina smiled and leaned forward, licking slowly along the thing from scrotum to tip. She’d come a long way from tenth grade, and she gave herself fully into pleasuring this thing, whatever it was, since it seemed to be making Marylin so happy.
She teased it for a long while with her tongue and fingertips before she opened her lips and engulfed as much of it as she could. It wasn’t much, really. She didn’t think she’d ever sucked a cock so big as the one in front of her. It tickled her tonsils and yet a hand’s span remained outside her lips. She stroked it with her hand and slid her lips over it. She lifted her breasts, and teased the scrotum and the base of the shaft with her soft orbs of flesh. That was something she’d never been quite able to do before.
All the while Marylin moaned and gibbered in a completely unfamiliar way. She could have been delusional, from the sound of it. The older woman rested her hands needfully on her protege’s bright red hair and thrust her hips gently back and forth, the motion sometimes pressing the head of the phantom dick firmly against Caterina’s tonsils.
Caterina pulled back and gasped for breath. She felt a sensation from below. She glanced down and saw that a bead of vaginal lubrication was dripping down her flexed thigh. She looked back up, and saw that Marylin saw it too, saw Marylin’s nostril’s flare, saw her lick her lips. Without a word, Marylin knelt, and pushed Caterina back on the thick white carpet. She shuffled forward, pulling Caterina’s legs apart by the knees, then lifted, tilting her pelvis. Caterina felt moisture welling on her pussy lips. She felt the silken limb prodding against her swollen opening. Somehow it had found its way to aim into her, without the help of Marylin’s hands, which were still lifting her legs. But it was Marylin’s hips which thrust forward, sliding the thing smoothly inside her.
Caterina sighed pleasurably as the thing filled her up. She was wet and she could feel the aliveness of her erogenous nerves as the fine shape of the phallus slid into her. She felt the silk crotch of the panties against the top of her thighs, felt the heavy silk scrotum tickling her ass cheeks, and knew the thing was completely inside her, filling her perfectly. Marylin grunted through her teeth, and pulled back, not even slowing before settling the long shaft back inside Caterina’s slick tunnel.
Caterina watched through half-lidded eyes as Marylin’s gaze passed back and forth between the rogue projectile disappearing into her sex and the younger lover’s generous tits swaying back and forth as Caterina was rocked by the motion of their coupling. Caterina started to pant, already feeling the spark of something growing inside her, like the ember of the most tenuous fire on a bed of fine tinder. Marylin seemed to know exactly how to nurse that speck, to fan it into a flame, into a roaring crackle, into a sharp exhalation, into a squeal of delight. Caterina locked her legs around her lover, held her close, felt her body spasming wildly, then fell limp.
Marylin allowed her only a few seconds to breathe before pushing her over on her belly, and sliding the orgasm-slickened cock into her pussy again from behind. Marylin’s expensive manicured nails dug into the fair skin of Caterina’s rounded hips. The silk testicles slapped loudly against Caterina’s steaming pubis and tender clit. She came again, but Marylin didn’t slow, only held her tighter, stronger than she’d ever imagined the woman could be. Caterina let her head and torso fall, breasts smashed against the carpet. The soft floor covering felt as coarse as sandpaper against her engorged nipples. The angle let the thrusting cock-head push against a part of her she’d never felt touched before. She came yet again, letting out a high-pitched squeal that reverberated into the floor.
Then Marylin released her. She scrambled up next to the younger woman’s face, pushing her back onto her back, and jerked the cock frantically with her hand, and like the raunchiest porn Caterina had ever seen, aimed right between her eyes and let forth a hot stream of very real semen that splattered all over her face, then directed another jet over her heaving bosom, and started to slap the twitching cock against Caterina’s tits. Caterina was still breathing hard when Marylin shifted forward and shoved the softening length of the thing against her lips. Caterina obliged and suckled the sticky, sickly stuff from the surface of the silk. She could feel a hearbeat in the thing as it started to flag, but then to throb back to life.
Marylin began to jerk the penis with one hand, and to palm Caterina’s jizz-covered tits with the other. She looked intent, hungry, and less and less like herself. Like a woman possessed, Caterina thought with a rush of fear. Nonetheless Caterina couldn’t think of depriving this woman she loved of what she obviously wanted so badly.
What in the world would Jeff say, she found herself wondering as her cognition returned. Would he consider this cheating? Would he join in? Lord knows I’ve seen how he looks at Marylin, he wouldn’t mind. But this... thing... this penis. What does it mean? What is it? There’s no rational explanation.
The cock was fully hard again. Marylin shifted down and began sliding it between Caterina’s gooey tits. Caterina pushed them together diligently. Marylin fucked Caterina’s tits until the jizz started to get sticky, then she moved behind and rolled Caterina on her belly again. She leaned forward and Caterina felt the shock of lips and tongue on her asshole.
This is decidedly nothing like what Marylin would choose to do, Caterina thought. I really ought to get to the bottom of this. Just as soon as Marylin is done fucking my ass, she thought, we’ll put our heads together and figure out what’s going on here.
It was a rather stimulating show, if I do say so myself. I have been granting the wishes of men since the days of the old magic that put me in this lamp. Of course many men have wished to be with or even utterly control the most beautiful women they had ever met or could imagine. And I’ve made it all come true, no matter how outlandish the request. However, for all of that, this was the first time I ever turned a man into a garment.