Cordelia, Lucy & The Boutique

By Cordelia Jones and Lucy Spender

"As colleagues Cordelia and Lucy don't really get on, but they're happy to make the most of the luxurious outfits available at your high class boutique. Especially the wide choice of belts."

Cordelia & Lucy. The adventures of two young women whose principal interests are fabulous outfits, threesomes, and light S&M.

We don't waste words.
Every detail's delicious.
Every scene's a sex scene.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: May 1, 2024

Book preview

CORDELIA, LUCY & THE BOUTIQUE

The store was a high class, boutique affair just off London's Berwick Street, stocking a wide variety of young women's fashion.

A particularly puritanical observer might note that a fair amount of the clothes on show tended towards the short, tight and skimpy, and indeed the place did have a certain reputation as the go-to establishment for young London women seeking particularly head turning outfits.

But nobody lasted long in this part of town by peddling cheap tat, and even the most straightforward items carried significant price tags.

You let yourself in and flicked on the lights, illuminating the store. A small staircase led up from the street entrance to the main shop floor, with racks of clothes, plenty of mirrors and artfully scattered vintage furniture.

Along one wall, on the customer's right as they came in, sat the service counter, glass topped to display an array of impulse items. A door leading down to the tiny stock room was behind the counter.

Finally a row of three changing rooms sat on a slightly elevated platform across from the counter, all the better for groups of girls to model their prospective purchases for each other.

There was a lot of that.

The street door opened and shut as Cordelia Jones entered.

You swallowed, anxiety and anticipation mingling as they always did when your 24 year-old co-owner started for the day. You looked up as she strolled calmly in.

Cordelia Jones had the face of a wide-eyed, sweet hearted society girl and the body of a 5,000 dollar a night hooker. At 5'8", the top of her head would just about brush your face, her wavy blonde hair trailing across your mouth whenever she had cause to squeeze past you in the small shop.

Today Cordelia's toned, athletic legs were snugly encased in a pair of wet look, skintight black leggings. Hugging the curves of her calves and the tight, gentle swell of her thighs, they ended low on her hips, exposing a few inches of her flat little belly, dimpled abs and a faint summer tan, below the hem of her loose, white vest top.

Cordelia bounded up the stairs, pushed back her blonde, tangled hair and paused, her top settling around firm, distinct breasts, some kind of patterned bra just visible beneath the white fabric.

Morning Mr Smith.

A smiled greeting, revealing flashing white teeth and sparkling green eyes, heavily lidded with dark mascara, pretty much the only makeup on her flawless complexion.

Er, hi. Morning, good morning. How are, er, things?

Cordelia responded by hurling her shoulder bag into a nearby armchair and slumping into another one, spreading her arms and leaning back in exasperation. Her legs stretched out in front of her,