Amber Deen Leska

 

Amber Deen Leska chewed her tongue while looking at the mirror. She was permanently a strawberry now. Turning right, she observed her Guardian Angel—it didn’t have a reflection in the mirror. It bobbed in the air, peeking at her with an eye for a moment—she wondered if it was judging her—before settling back into its stupor. Deen took that to mean there was no danger.

Problem was, she wasn’t sure if Gabe considered getting caught by the store employee as an actual danger.

But there’s no problem, is there? Deen reasoned with herself. Just two friends trying on clothes… in an airport, of all places.

Deen bowed down, staring at the top of Erind’s black crown. Erind’s head was small, her shoulders narrow, and her fingers were short like a child’s but very slender. Erind stood in front of her, buttoning the white blouse she was trying on. This was a normal thing, she reasoned. Just her best friend helping her get dressed. Subtract their mini-make-out session moments before.

The smoldering need between Deen’s legs remained. She couldn’t help but think of getting another kiss from Erind. A kiss per outfit was their deal. But Deen chased away those thoughts; they might involuntarily get reflected on her face. She didn’t want to give Erind too much power over her.

Even though that was exactly what she wanted.

I don’t know what’s happening to me! A hook of anxiety tugged Deen’s heart. She was normally so in control that the whirlpool of emotions throwing her this way and that, upending everything she thought she knew about herself, was scary. It was like she didn’t know who she was anymore.

What changed?

“The fabric’s a bit thin, isn’t it?” Deen commented, trying to keep her voice confident. “I’m not going to even think of wearing this outside.” Some random topic to prevent herself from spiraling into an existential crisis. While turned on. How shameful.

Erind nodded after finishing the uppermost button. Her eyes were level with Deen’s breasts. “Your bra is like a beacon. Or like Rudolph the Reindeer’s red nose. If his nose is the size of a melon.” Erind traced the left cup of Deen’s bra with a finger, making Deen shudder.

“My breasts aren’t that big,” said Deen, keeping herself still despite shivers climbing her sides. “And I-I’m not talking about my underwear.”

“If not this…” Erind plucked Deen’s bra strap from under the fabric of the blouse, pulled it, and let go. “… then what?”

“I meant this.” Deen grabbed Erind’s hand and pulled it to the middle of her chest.

“Your artificial Core,” whispered Erind. “Yeah. I guess that’s kind of noticeable.” She paused for a moment to feel it. “Something wrong? It’s hot and pulsing fast.”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just like that because it’s connected to me, and my… um…” Deen couldn’t say that the artificial Core was pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. Erind could feel it anyway. Deen’s heart pounded even faster; she found Erind touching her Core somehow sensual. Mother Core, there’s something definitely wrong with me.

“That’s not an issue if you wear this blouse,” said Erind.   

“Why not? I can’t exactly put this, uh, growth, on display. People won’t know what it is, but they might think I have a gigantic wart on my chest. This won’t do. It’s too sheer. Find me a different white blouse to wear.” Deen hoped Erind didn’t catch the other meaning of her last sentence. 

Getting dressed by Erind was fun. Erind did tell her that she was the doll now. That switch in dynamic was… interesting…to say the least. Deen could barely admit to herself that she wanted Erind to be more the assertive one. Deen had a wild wish that Erind should just pounce on her, rip her clothes, and grope—

“No one’s going to notice your artificial Core,” said Erind, popping Deen’s balloon of shameful fantasy. “Because all the guys will be looking at your—”

“At my boobs. Yeah, whatever. That’s getting old, Erind. Get a new joke.”

“Wow, you’re suddenly grumpy.” Erind stepped away from the mirror so Deen could see her full body. “But even so, you look really beautiful, Deen. Beauty on the outside matters a lot.”

Deen would’ve been offended if someone else commented it to her, but she was just flattered each time Erind complimented her, even if that wasn’t Erind’s actual intention. “I’m not going to deny I’m beautiful. And I’m also not going to deny that beauty privilege is a thing…”

“And…? Are you going to say something else?”

“No. That’s it,” said Deen, as haughtily as she could. “I’m beautiful and I’ve benefitted from it plenty.”

She placed her hands on her hips and turned to present her side profile to the mirror. She slightly bent her right knee forward, angling it and standing on tiptoes as if she was in high heels to accentuate her butt. The skirt Erind picked to match the blouse clung well to her figure. Deen couldn’t believe Erind just randomly picked it.

Deen noticed Erind’s hand moving towards her. Was Erind going to slap her butt? Deen braced herself.

Instead, Erind caressed her butt softly. “Beauty privilege personified.”

“You’re beautiful too.” Deen stood straight, not minding Erind’s hand. Being nonchalant and unaffected was Erind’s strategy when it was Deen who was touchy-feely, as Erind put it. With the tables reversed, Deen didn’t know what to do.

Correction—Deen knew exactly what she wanted to do. She wanted to let Erind have her way with her in this cramped dressing room, with the risk of getting found by the store employee. Obviously, Deen shouldn’t allow that to happen if she had any shred of dignity left. And she did. So, Deen just went with being nonchalant.

“This red bra is really something.” Erind reached up to cup Deen’s right breast.

“That’s not going to work, Erind,” said Deen as she enjoyed Erind’s touch. “You’re not getting anything out of me.”

“What are you talking about? I’m just surprised that you had underwear like this in your, uh, arsenal.” Erind took her hands off Deen.

Deen endeavored not to show the disappointment on her face. “Am I not allowed to have this?” She folded her arms below her chest, pushing up her breasts. The red bra strained against the tightening thin fabric. Looking at her reflection, Deen felt so raunchy, like she was a star in an adult movie.

“Just wondering why you’re wearing that,” said Erind.

“To feel good about myself. Wearing sexy underwear somehow makes me feel very feminine.” Deen shrugged. “I don’t know, really.”

“Are you sure you’re not planning to sneak away after we return to the condo to hunt for some Vegas guys? I hear the nightlife in Vegas is pretty fun. Never experienced it, of course. I’m not thrilled about parties and clubbing and stuff. Plus, I go to bed early because I always wake up early.”

“Why would I look for guys—” Deen lifted Erind’s chin with a finger “—when I can have fun with you?”

Erind smirked while looking straight into Deen’s eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me, Amber Deen Leska?”

“N-no. Don’t be silly.” Deen turned away from Erind and looked at the mirror again. She straddled on answering yes. However, she was worried that Erind would reject her. Deen already framed her question in a jokey way but was still fearful of Erind’s actual answer.

Then there was the dangling question of why was she propositioning Erind in the first place.

Propositioning? It was a joke. But that was really what she was doing, wasn’t it? Deen wondered if she was starting to like girls. One girl, in particular. She couldn’t deny she liked Erind. And wanted to do things with her that weren’t appropriate for just friends. Deen was conflicted if she was still straight.

She also wondered what Erind actually felt about her.

Not wanting to be drowned by the two heavy questions—they could be answered some other time—Deen stirred the conversation back to clothing. “I’ll try the next one,” Deen said.

“Sure.” Erind wiggled past Deen

“Oh, wait.” Deen grabbed Erind’s wrist.

“Hmmm? Are you going to do something to me?”

“Wha—? No!” Deen hoped Erind would kiss her. Deen wanted to demand it but changed her mind. Too needy was a bad look. “I just wanted some help with this skirt’s zipper,” said Deen as innocently as she could. “It got stuck when I put it on.”

Erind grabbed Deen’s waist and turned her sideways. With one swoop, Erind pulled down the zipper, exposing Deen’s hip and upper thigh. “I don’t see what’s the problem.”

“I-it was really stuck before!”

“But I do see your panties. Matching, eh? Like you’re ready for battle.”

“I don’t have anything planned. It’d just be weird if I didn’t match—” Deen sharply inhaled.

Erind hooked her finger into the strap of Deen’s panties. Then she traced it around Deen’s waist as she pulled down Deen’s skirt.

Deen’s heart nearly burst out of her chest. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her mind blanked. Was Erind going to completely undress her?

But Erind did no such thing. She pulled the strap of Deen’s panties, and then let it snap back. Deen winced. Not from pain, but from the surprise that nothing happened. And the disappointment too.

“What’s that look on your face?” Erind asked.

“No-nothing,” Deen murmured. She could barely string together words. She craved Erind’s touch. “Why? What’s my face like?” Deen chuckled, trying to regain her composure even though she wanted to cry, like a child who was happened a trip to the amusement park that didn’t push through. “Be-beautiful as usual, I presume?”

Erind rolled her eyes. “Turn around.”

“Turn around? Are you going to do something to me?”

“What are you on about? I just want to see your whole body.”

“My whole body?” Deen almost choked on her words. “Why?”

“Nothing sketchy. Just want to admire your beauty. Or is that illegal now? Nothing so sinister as you’re imagining.”

“I’m not imagining anything!”

Erind grinned. “Sure, you’re not.” She held up a finger. Deen looked at it. Erind spun her finger. “Turn around and model for me.”