Please I need help with my Tara Subkoff/Me/Jimmy Fallon story....I'd love you forever

[MissAngBoo]

I've been trying and trying but the ending won't come to me can anyone help?
Tara is so cute and it's odd I've never thought about a women like that


Dear Diary,

I know this entry is late, but so much has happened in the past 24 hours.

Yesterday was pretty much like any other; I'd decided to get a new outfit, something special for my birthday. I had been browsing in the store, idly walking round, running my fingers and eyes over the new autumn lines, when I came across a new designer label "Imitation of Christ." The clothes were sort of retro, in a cool way. Each had a cute little label and a picture of the designer that reminded me of someone. I was sure that I had seen that face before, but I couldn’t place it.

Anyway, as I was walking round the store I started to get a feeling; it was hard to describe, but I felt as if someone was watching me. I looked around, but couldn't see anyone obviously staring at me. As I browsed, the feeling just kept growing, but every time I looked, I saw nobody. Well Diary, that's not exactly true, I could see the top of a blonde mop of hair, behind a rack of clothes every so often, but I never saw the person looking at me.

I was feeling a bit flustered, so I grabbed some of the nearby clothing, and made a beeline for the changing room. I thought that if I spent some time trying on a new outfit or two, then whoever was watching would loose interest.

Boy was I wrong!

I changed into the first thing I'd grabbed, a tight little blouse, probably a size too small judging by the way I had to struggle to get it over my shoulders. The stretchy material clung to me like a second skin. a bit too revealing I thought. It rode too high, leaving more bare midriff visible than I was comfortable with showing; I struggled to remove it, but somehow my arms and head became stuck I heard a quiet "snick,” and I felt the draft of the changing room door opening and my heart lurched in my chest..

"Who's there?" I asked, hoping that it was just an assistant checking up on me.

I heard the door close and lock, then felt someone standing a bit too close to me. I tried, I really tried to free my head, so I could see who was in here with me, but as I struggled, I heard a female voice tell me, “Hush, I'm only here to help.”

Partially relieved, I thought it was just a pushy clerk, but again I was wrong. I finally managed to free my head and saw that I was sharing the room with the blonde woman I had seen earlier. What stopped me was the fact that I recognised her face; it was none other than Tara Subkoff, the designer of the clothing I was stuck in. I stood speechless, and watched as her tongue snaked out between her lips and moistened them.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. I stood there, who knows how long, trapped by the intensity of her stare. I could see in her eyes a desire, a hunger, one I wasn't entirely comfortable with. I opened my mouth to tell her that I really didn't need any help, but
she stopped me by the simple expedient of placing her finger over my lips.

She smiled, lighting up the room, and easing the building tension. She licked her lips again, then reached behind and pulled me close. I stiffened, definitely not used to such intimate contact with women, then I felt her breath on my neck.

"Let me help, after all, I designed these, so I should know what will suit you best."

With that, I felt her fingers release the catch of my bra. My heart was in my mouth when she stepped back, and with a flourish, slipped the bra off my shoulders. I couldn't believe it, I was in a room with a stranger, naked from the waist up. I felt my cheeks colour when I realised that she was staring at my breasts with obvious hunger.

I turned away, but I was so confused. I could feel the embarrassed heat in my cheeks, but my breasts went and betrayed my arousal; under Tara's gaze, my nipples hardened. I couldn't believe it, a stranger, a woman no less, was staring at my breasts, and while I was ashamed and embarrassed, they had the temerity to harden. I could feel my skin tightening, the aureoles crinkling, and my nipples becoming painfully hard.

Tearing her gaze from them, she slipped her hands to my waist, her fingers quickly working on my belt buckle. My legs suddenly felt weak when I realised her hands were ever so close to my private parts. Nobody had ever undressed me like this. I couldn't catch my breath to tell her to stop; every time I tried to say something, she'd notice and give me a look; a look so full of desire that the intensity silenced me.

Soon the belt was undone. She surprised me by pulling me close to her, so that our breasts briefly touched. My nipples brushed against her, I felt her nipples poking into me. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of my jeans, briefly resting them on my backside. My breath caught in my throat, this was so close, so intimate. I closed my eyes and felt my jeans slide down my legs.

"They're perfect," she murmured, her eyes drinking in the sight. A slight pressure from her hand helped me step out of them, leaving them heaped on the floor. She tut-tutted, my everyday choice of underwear obviously not thrilling, but before I could even think of complaining, she hooked her thumbs into the material, and my panties joined the jeans on the floor.

Now naked, I felt humiliated; here I was, a grown woman, stripped and under another woman’s gaze. What made it worse was the fact that I could just make out the scent of my arousal. Somewhere along the way, my body had parted from my mind; my mind wanted to just get out, but my body found this exciting. Fortunately, I wasn't totally gone; my sex hadn't yet parted to reveal its hidden treasures, but I knew from the fluttery feeling that it wouldn't take too much more before it did.

"Trust me," she said, and before I could think about it, she placed her fingers on my eyelids, closing them. I smelled her perfume, and beneath it, I could just make out the scent of her own desire. "Keep them closed," she said.

For some reason that I can't explain I was more comfortable with my eyes closed than I was looking at her. She guided my arms into some piece of clothing, then pulled it down over my head. I gasped when I felt her hands touch my breasts as she smoothed the top down over them. My knees nearly buckled when she squeezed my nipples, causing them to stand out even more.

She moved behind me, her body pressed against mine as she guided my legs into a pair of jeans. I was pleased that she was behind me, otherwise she'd be able to spot the fact that this touching was turning me on. I felt my sex part, and the cool air was like a jolt of electricity to my hot centre. Her hands pulled the jeans up over my hips, I wiggled and helped as they were a very snug fit. She told me to breathe in, and as I did so, she fastened them in front; they were so tight, like a second skin. When she did up the zipper, oh my God; the closeness and touching had me so turned on, even though I was loathe to admit it, but when I felt her hand on the zipper, I nearly lost it. The zipper slipped between my labia, parting me, and as she zipped it up, I felt it press my tender clit.

She helped me slip on a pair of boots and then with a husky voice, thick with desire, told me to open my eyes. I couldn't believe the image that the mirror threw back at me; I stood there, now standing taller than Tara, due to the obscene fuck me ankle boots that I was wearing. I looked at the heels, five, maybe 6 inches of heel. My legs were bare; the jeans, if I could call them that, were the smallest pair of cut offs I had ever seen. From the back, you could clearly see each globe of my ass, held enticingly tightly and from the front, and I blushed when I noticed, you could see my thick and parted labia through the tight material. My midriff was bare, and so were my tits, well almost bare. The top she'd chosen didn't quite come down far enough to cover them and I could see the base of my breasts. Held tightly by the stretchy material; my nipples seemed to poke through, drawing even more attention. Across my breasts were the words "Tara's Toy."

Grinning, she smiled a predatory smile, and said, "There. Perfect! I could just eat you up."

Tara surprised me by not leaping on me as I expected; instead, she slipped a card into my hand and told me to give her a call if I'd like another personal fitting. I stood there when she left, my mind all over the place. “Did I want another personal fitting?” I didn't know, I was so confused. I thought, “I wasn't into women.” I'd never an erotic experience, where the air seemed so alive with naughty possibilities, and she was leaving it up to me to decide what happened next.

Taking a deep breath, I surprised myself by calling out, "Tara, Wait!" She turned, with a wicked smile lighting up her face, "I'm coming with you," I said.