The useless talentless asshole sun rose ridiculously early, upsetting Grace’s sleep in a very pointed and deliberate way. She bared her teeth at the fucking thing as it went out of its way to shine through her blinds. “If you had a face, I’d punch it,” she mumbled.

Her crappy mood followed her into the shower, and she was still muttering until she absently rubbed some body wash onto a breast. A spark of pleasure ran up to her brain and soon she was leaning against the wall, pawing at her tits as she sprayed the showerhead against her clit.

She emerged from the shower with a much better attitude, but it curdled slightly as she tried to find an outfit for work. Her work blouses were all too tight - not ‘sexy’ tight, but ‘too goddamn small’ tight. She could just about close them if she held her breath, but the buttons were visibly straining against the load, little cleavage windows between each one. It felt like they’d shoot off if she gasped too hard.

Her slacks and blue jeans were all lost causes too. She spent a few pointless minutes lying in the bed, trying to force ten pounds of ass into a five pound bag, before throwing them on the growing heap.

“Damnit, I’m not buying a new wardrobe,” she said to the room at large, “especially this early in the process.” She picked up the heart-shaped bottle from her nightstand, and stared at it. “Are you gonna let me have some nice clothes, or are you gonna shit in my mouth again?”

Unfortunately, the answer to that question wouldn’t come until nightfall, so Grace was stuck for now. She emailed her boss, feigning some vague family emergency to take a half day. Then she squeezed herself into her biggest yoga pants and a Chappal Attack t-shirt. She jury-rigged another bikini bottom to avoid camel toe, but skipped the top.

Mom was eating breakfast as Grace emerged, and gave her daughter some serious side-eye.

“You’re going to work dressed like that? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

Grace let out an exasperated sigh. She was getting real tired of her mother’s shit.

“No, mom, I am not going to work dressed like this. I am going to the store, so I can buy work clothes. I don’t have anything that fits right now.”

“Maybe if you didn’t buy so many skin tight booty shorts…” Mom mumbled into her toast.

“You know what?” Grace pointed an accusing finger at Mom, fury in her eyes. “You can be a bitch to me later. I have shit to do.” She stomped out, ignoring Mom’s outraged protests.

She was in a foul mood all the way to Target, but some retail therapy buoyed her spirit. She wore a size seven shoe now, and a 32G bra. By ten, she was on her way to the office in a purple sleeveless dress and matching blazer, both tight without being too tight.

After five solid orgasms in twelve hours, Grace wasn’t quite as desperate for attention, so everyone staring at her as she entered wasn’t quite so life affirming. She nodded to her coworkers, grabbed her laptop, and headed for the Admiral Room.

DeAndre was in the middle of a presentation, but stopped dead as she slid in the door. The clients turned to see the interruption, and four pairs of eyes went wide.

“Sorry gentlemen.” She pointed at the flustered salesman. “DeAndre, you were saying?”

“Saying? Oh, uh, yeah… we were discussing flooring options for the main deck…”

The meeting proceeded, the banal minutiae of obscene wealth. Grace watched DeAndre work; the man was smooth and confident, the consummate salesman. That style had always turned her on… she wondered if he could keep it up under pressure.

Grace flirted with him mercilessly from the back of the room - lots of eye contact, smiling, playing with her hair, nibbling on her pen. She repeatedly leaned forward to show off her cleavage, and twice uncrossed and recrossed her legs. It did not take him long to notice, and watching him squirm and try to hide his erection filled her with wicked delight.

She escorted the clients out, then returned to the Admiral Room to help clean up. DeAndre swallowed hard as she entered, but gave her his warmest smile. “Thanks Grace. I think we made quite an impression.” She smirked at that and he swallowed again. “Did you do something special today? You look, um, different.”

Looking up from her work, Grace leaned forward, tits pressed against the table, ass straining against the skirt behind her.

“New haircut.” She gave DeAndre her dirtiest smile and arched an eyebrow. “You wanna eat?”

As the pair left the Admiral Room, Grace let DeAndre keep talking about the deal, while subtly steering him down the back way. He was still babbling when Grace suddenly pushed him into the wellness room, locking the door behind her.

She had her tongue in his mouth immediately - wordlessly declaring her intentions while keeping him quiet. He was shocked for a moment, but soon he grabbed her ass and leaned in. They kissed and writhed for several minutes, then Grace broke away and started to undress.

DeAndre followed her lead, eyes wide and panting. “What if someone shows up?”

“I booked the room for an hour.” She pulled off her panties from beneath her skirt. “So don’t waste time talking.”

Soon Grace was sprawled in an office chair, moaning and shuddering as DeAndre knelt before her, face buried in her snatch. “Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” she breathed, trying to keep quiet. She tangled her fingers into his curly hair, his smooth face contrasting wonderfully with Edison’s beard. The thought of Edison made her reach for her phone, rifling through her purse.

DeAndre looked up at the motion, gave Grace an inquiring look. She only shuddered and pushed his face back down. His work resumed, Grace sent Edison a text.

The Wren at 10. Can’t wait to see you!

DeAndre stopped, panting, and rested an elbow on Grace’s thigh. “What are you doing?”

She looked down at him, lapping at her sex, and decided not to be annoyed that he stopped. It was a fair question, even if she wasn’t going to answer it.

“I’m getting ready for the main event.” She slid down off the chair, pushed him firmly to his back, and put his cock in her mouth. As she worked, she switched her phone to the camera app and started filming, watching herself suck and bob. The sight turned her on immensely, and she stroked her clit. She tried to deep throat his cock, but gagged halfway down. We’ll have to fix that, she thought.

“Ok, it’s time.” Grace sat up, pulled a condom from her purse. Ripping it open with her teeth, she presented the latex roll to DeAndre before sticking it in her mouth. She bobbed on his cock twice more, rolling it out with her lips and tongue, then lay back before handing him her phone.

“Film it,” she commanded. “I want something to watch when I bury a dildo in my wet snatch.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Holding the phone in his left hand, DeAndre lifted a leg with his right and slid into her. Grace looked at herself on the phone’s screen, sighed and smiled. All her fantasies were coming true; she was becoming the fuckable slut she’d always wanted to be.

He pounded her for ten minutes - a very respectable showing - before cumming with a full body shudder. She was damn close herself, and a few moments of rubbing brought a delicious climax as DeAndre lay down on her heavy tits. “Holy shit Grace, that was amazing.”

“Oh, it’s a good start,” she breathed. “Tomorrow will be even better.”

—

Mom was out when Grace came home, for which she was profoundly grateful. She cooked herself some dinner, scrolled through Instagram, and strategized her next move while she waited for the stupid sun to go down. By the time the beautiful moon rose over Queens, she was ready.

Grace stood naked before her closet, all the old useless clothes thrown onto the bed. She held the heart-shaped bottle in her hand and tried to hype herself up.

“It’s gonna work,” she repeated to herself, “It’s gonna work. It’s gonna work. It’ll make things sexier - It’s gonna work.”

Not at all resolved, Grace nevertheless pulled the pipette and let the drop fall.

“I want a closet and dresser that are always filled with top end clothes, shoes and lingerie - the best of the best - that make me look sexy, that fit and flatter my body, no matter what shape it takes.”

She tensed, ready for the taste of Sasquatch urine, but slumped with relief as blood and honey filled her mouth. There was a moment of tension, then release, followed by a cacophony of little pops as clothes materialized in the closet.

Blouses, pants, dresses and more - yard after yard of beautiful fabric, in every cut and style, every color of the rainbow. A whole shoe store of heels appeared on the floor, ranging from high to very high. There was a single pair of gym shoes as well, thank god… or whoever.

The dresser was practically stuffed with lingerie, an ocean of silk and lace. Everything was delicate, sheer and left nothing to the imagination. She looked at a few tags and her eyes popped. “Agent Provocateur!? Holy fuck, this is a 900 dollar bra!”

Grace grabbed armfuls of clothes from the closet, half-emptying it, then did the same with the dresser. She covered the bed with the sexiest wardrobe she’d ever seen in her life, a pile of clothes that was worth more than she’d ever possibly earn at her job.

Then she closed the closet door, shut her eyes and counted to ten.

When she opened it again, the closet was full, the mound of dresses and garters still on the mattress. The dresser was the same.

Grace pumped her fist in triumph. “FUCK YEAH! Hack the planet!”

She raced to Encore Resale, black heels clacking through the door five minutes before close, arms full of cloth grocery bags. “I am so sorry, but I have a few things to sell - rent’s due, you know?”

An hour later, she walked into The Wren in a Dolce and Gabbana black dress, sides cut to the waist, that cost more than a used car. The plunging neckline showed off about a yard of cleavage, and it was just sheer enough to highlight the lacy lingerie beneath - half cup bra, stockings, garter and high cut g-string. She wore a sparkly black choker, and a pair of three inch heels.

There was also about three thousand dollars in her Gucci purse, which was nice.

It took Edison almost ten seconds to collect himself when he saw Grace, mouth literally agape at the vision of elegant sex before him. “Buh… Buh…” he stuttered.

She put a finger to his mouth and smiled. “Oh this old thing? I just threw something together after work. Should we get a drink?”

—

Grace made her way home around 1am, watching herself get railed by Edison on her phone. She licked her lips at the memory, getting turned on by her own dirty talk and heavy breathing. As she unlocked the door, Edison pulled the condom off his throbbing cock and shot his load all over her tits as she moaned. Just gonna rub one more out before bed, she thought with deep satisfaction.

“Hello Gracie.”

Grace jumped, dropping her phone and keys. She knelt down to grab it all, hoping her mom hadn’t seen her scooping cum off her tits and into her mouth. “Mom, what the hell are you doing up so late?”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, you know me - I love watching infomercials at 1am. But since you’re up too, why don’t we have a talk?”

Grace grimaced, pinched the bridge of her nose, but sat down at the table. “Ok mom, go ahead and scold me. Please just do it quick so I can go to bed.”

Mrs Stavros gave her a sour look. “I was going to start with an apology, if that’s ok with you.”

Grace slumped, eyes dropping to the table. “Sorry mom,” she mumbled.

“And I’m sorry that I keep interrupting your private time. You’re right - it’s your body. I shouldn’t try to pour cold water on you like a dog in heat.” Grace chuckled at that, gave her mom a tiny smile.

“But I worry about you, Grace. I’m your mom, I’m allowed to do that. You’re going out every night, staying out all hours god knows where, going out in thousand dollar dresses with your butt hanging out, trying to have sex.”

“Are you ok? Are you drinking, taking drugs? Are you being safe with these men?”

Grace took a long, deep breath. “To answer your questions in order - I go to bars with my dates, but don’t drink too much. I’ve smoked pot since the tenth grade, but don’t touch anything else.”

“I’ve got an IUD and I always use condoms. And I only go with nice guys, who know how to treat a woman.” She gestured at her insane figure. “Look at me! I don’t have to settle for jerks and fuckbois! Anyone I go to bed with is someone I’d be proud to bring home to meet you.”

She took her mom’s hand. “I’m ok, Mom. I’m finally coming out of my funk and I’m celebrating.”

“I’m becoming who I always wanted to be.”

Mom looked at her for a few moments, trying to take it all in. “You’ve been smoking reefers all this time? It’s only been legal for two years! You could’ve gone to jail!”

“Also, are you using protection when…” She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “...When you do mouth stuff? You can catch diseases from mouth stuff.”

Fuck, she’s right. Grace had always been sloppy about oral sex safety. Condom blowjobs were unpleasant, and she’d never been able to get off when she used a dental dam. However, she’d also caught Chlamydia freshmen year from a drunken blowjob. It was a miracle she’d never caught herpes - or worse.

I’m gonna have to fix that, damnit. A boring maintenance wish.

“It’s all good mom, I promise.” She took mom’s hand, and the two of them rose and hugged. Mrs Stavros stepped back and looked her daughter up and down.

“How do you go out like that? You look like a damn lingerie model - you must have to keep the men down with a cattle prod!”