(Spin Off) Erind/Deen – 5.22.4
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Amber Deen Leska

 

Amber Deen Leska pretended to check her phone. “Erind, I think we need to go back. Your mom will arrive soon.” It wasn’t true; moments earlier Deen had told Erind they had plenty of time. But she wanted to leave and be ‘alone’ with Erind again.

Not truly alone, since they were in an airport, surrounded by people. Just that Deen wasn’t comfortable with someone else barging in their supposedly quality time, like the sales lady who was helping Erind pick out clothes for Deen.

Deen wanted Erind all to herself.

Wait, what am I thinking? Deen shook her head.

“You don’t like this one, ma’am?” said the sales lady on the other side of a row of dresses, rummaging through them like flicking through pages of a book. “We have plenty of new arrivals to choose from. There’s a discount if you buy at least three items.”

“I’m looking for a shirt, not a dress,” Deen mumbled in a low voice that only Erind beside her could hear. Did the sales lady see her groping Erind?

Why was I doing that to Erind in public? Shameful, stupid, shameful! Deen clenched her teeth as she felt the tingle of a blush.

“Here try this,” Erind shoved a blue dress into her arms.

Deen wanted to reject it but she also didn’t want Erind to see her embarrassment, so she turned around and went to the fitting room. For a moment, she examined her face in the mirror. Her cheeks had turned pinkish. She was surprised to see her reflection grinning. She and Erind had gone on several shopping trips, but it was always her picking clothes for Erind. This was the first time it was the other way around.

Granted, Erind was just messing with her. Deen was still happy.

“Hurry up!” Erind said.

Deen glanced at the curtain separating her and Erind waiting outside. The material wasn’t that thick so she could see a hint of Erind’s shadow because of the strong lights of the store. There was another form, presumably the sales lady. Deen grabbed the hem of her shirt. As she pulled it over her head, she expected Erind to yank the curtain open.

That didn’t happen. Erind had some restraints on bullying. Deen pulled down her shorts. Standing in her underwear, she checked at the curtain again, secured only by a couple of hooks to the doorframe. Why wasn’t Erind pranking her? Part of Deen wanted Erind to come inside and—

No, don’t think that! Deen slapped her cheeks. The sales lady was out there!

The thought a person might catch them messing with each other made Deen’s heart beat faster. “What are my fantasies turning into?” she asked her reflection in hushed tones.

Her face had turned into a strawberry, framed by her golden locks. She also noticed her neck and chest flushed red. She quickly put on the blue dress in case Erind decided to prank her. She didn’t want to be caught, literally, with her pants down.

The blue dress ended an inch above Deen’s knees. It wasn’t figure-hugging but tight enough in some places to show off the curves Deen was proud of. She’d like to think Erind knew her size and specifically chose this dress for her. More possible though, Erind just randomly picked something for her to try and got lucky.

Deen slowly breathed in and out, fanning herself with her hands. Calm thoughts. Empty your mind.

“Still not yet done, Deen?” Erind called.

With her blushing partially subsided, Deen walked out of the dressing with the pomp of a runway model to piss off Erind. Deen didn’t want to show she was embarrassed. She did a twirl, combined with a flick of her hair, and then, with a hand on her hip swayed left, haughtily asked Erind, “So, how do I look?”

“Gorgeously good!” said Erind with enthusiasm uncharacteristic of her. She was clearly enjoying flipping the table on Deen. “What do you think?” she asked the sale lady.

“Very beautiful, ma’am,” replied the sales lady. “The blue color goes well with your friend’s blonde hair.”

“Everything goes well with Amber Deen Leska,” Erind said, winking at Deen.

Deen frowned. She knew why Erind mentioned her full name—it was a threat to keep Deen in line or else Erind would do something embarrassing. The sales lady wouldn’t forget Deen, for obvious reasons, and recall her name. There was even a small gasp from the sales lady that could mean recognition of Deen’s surname.

Deen narrowed her eyes at Erind. I’ll have my revenge.

Erind presented her with another dress. “Here, try this one.”

“I’m looking for a shirt,” replied Deen. “Let’s just buy one and—”

“We’re already here,” Erind cut in, “so let’s make the most of it and get you a couple of dresses too. Three items for a discount. You were looking for a discount, right? You told me.”

“Tha-that was just—Anyway, the time. Just get me any shirt and we can go.”

“No rush.” Erind gestured to the saleslady, specifically the name tag on her chest. “Ms. Cindy here is gracious enough to help us. Deen, what did you say earlier about the efforts of employees or something?”

Deen rolled her eyes. “Fine. A couple of dresses. But I’ll pick for you too.”

Erind’s only response was to stick her tongue out at Deen.

Deen grabbed a pink dress from Erind’s hands, leaning forward to furiously whisper, “I’ll bite off that tongue of yours later.” She rapidly blinked, surprised at her words.

“It’ll just regenerate,” Erind was quick to reply.

Deen pulled the curtains to blot out her best friend’s smug face and wiggled out of the blue dress and into the pink one. Some stretching was needed to get the back zipped. Deen thought of asking Erind to help her. Erind would certainly do something if they were in a cramped space together.

“Gosh, there’s really something wrong with me,” Deen mumbled as she adjusted the pink dress.

“How is it?” Erind pulled the flap of the curtain and stuck her head through.

“Erind! Just wait for me outside.” Deen palmed Erind’s face, pushed her back, and fixed the curtain.

She knew Erind did it to preempt her having the upper hand when she walked out to show the dress. Their minigames were getting complicated. And Deen was enjoying herself. It also felt like she was really on a shopping date with Erind, instead of the usual dragging a sulking Erind around.

The pink pencil dress reached past Deen’s knees. But because it hugged her body throughout, it looked more provocative than the previous blue one. Deen modeled around a bit as Erind showered her with praises.

“This would’ve looked better if I had high heels on,” said Deen.

“You’re very beautiful,” Erind said, looking straight into Deen’s eyes.

Deen’s heart skipped a bit. She mumbled her thanks as she averted her gaze.

She couldn’t understand why she suddenly felt awkward. She knew she was beautiful. Many, many, many people had called her beautiful; the word did not affect her anymore. Erind had called her beautiful too, and other similar adjectives, but never as a direct compliment.

Usually, Erind would be complaining about Deen’s ‘beautiful privilege.’ Some friendly jokes and rants, and that was it.

This time was different.

“Where’s the next one you want me to try?” Deen said, wanting to return to the dressing room before Erind could see how red she had gotten. She was feeling hotter. Controlled breathing didn’t help.

“This one.” A black dress.

“Are you sure? I’m not attending a formal event any time soon.”

“You can just walk in parties and no one will stop you. Go try this on.” Erind slapped Deen’s butt as the latter turned around.

The sound of the smack reverberated in Deen’s ear. She couldn’t believe what just happened. Did Erind just do that while in front of the sales lady? Erind had slapped her butt before—among other wilder things—but that was when they were alone.

What do I do? Deen asked herself. She heard nervous laughter from the sales lady. She could get angry at Erind, but that’d just draw more attention to what had just happened. A split-second decision and she decided not to react, pulling the curtain shut behind her.

“Erind…” Deen cursed under her breath. What was this dress she picked? “I look like I plan to get picked up at the bar.”

The next dress was tighter than the last. It had long sleeves and a high neckline. The lower part was a different story, its hemline well above her knees, probably just an inch below her butt. Bending over while wearing this was a no-no. And even though it was black, it was the glossy kind that shimmered under the light, highlighting her curves more. She had a great body, which she worked hard for, but she wasn’t one to flaunt it. Also, she certainly wasn’t trying to be seductive to anyone.

“My bra straps,” she said, thumbing her shoulder. Hints of her underwear were evident because of the fabric’s shininess.

“Are you done changing?” Erind tapped the curtain as if knocking on a door.

“Uh, no… I think this is too small for me.”

“Let me see.” Erind poked her hand through the curtain, trying to unhook it from the doorframe.

“No! Stay out!” Deen pulled the curtain shut. “Get me a different dress!”

“Calm down. The sales lady’s not here. She’s returning the two clothes you tried and getting other outfits.”

Deen relented and opened the curtain, closing it quickly after Erind entered.

“Wow,” Erind said. “That’s what it looks like? I just pulled random stuff from the rack.”

“You didn’t even check what this dress was?”

“Well, I’m seeing it now. You look like…”

“Like what?” Deen asked with narrowed eyes.

“Don’t get offended, okay?” Erind said. “But you look like you’re going out clubbing… is how I’ll mildly put it.”

Deen chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing.” She placed her hand on her chest, feeling the warmth of the artificial Core pulsing. “But just to be clear, I’m a well-behaved girl at heart. I partied a bit during high school, but mostly clean record. I haven’t worn anything like this before.”

Deen stretched her arms to the side and looked down. Because she raised her arms, the hem of the dress hiked up her thighs, the stretched fabric struggling to snap back to its original shape, rolling over her butt and exposing her panties.

“Red,” Erind said.

“Shuddup!” Deen hissed, pulling her dress back down.

“Like, what’s the big deal?” Erind asked. “I’ve already seen you naked. What are you embarrassed about? We’ve done a lot of—”

Deen covered Erind’s mouth and brought a finger up to hers. She flicked her eyes to the curtain. There was a shadow.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” said the sales lady. “I’ve brought a few blouses and skirts for your friend.”

“Can we stop this already?” Deen pleaded to Erind. “I’ll forgive you for tearing my shirt.”

“No,” said Erind in a commanding tone Deen had never heard her use before. “You always say that I’m like a doll. Now, you’re my doll and we’ll play dress up.” She left the room. “Thank you, Ms. Cindy. My friend, Amber Deen, will try these.”

Deen placed her hands on her cheeks, slowly looking at the mirror. Her heart pounded so hard that her ears were beating. I can’t believe I’m getting turned on.

15