The girl left the costume shop and continued down the sidewalk. This part of town was devoted to small specialty shops. The wide cobble-stone foot path was festooned with cultural art installations between the rustling trees. While she had not found a full costume at the shop she was sure that amongst these many stores she would find the bits and pieces to make up something.
The wind blew across the pedestrian mall, pushing brightly coloured leaves into neat piles. Alison kicked her way through them her tattered tennis shoes crushed the dried leaves loudly. As she walked she loved how her toes felt to be so tight wrapped in soft spandex. Alison wiggled her toes to feel the slippery spandex socks slide about inside the shoes. For a moment she wondered what she had done with her cotton tube-socks she had worn into the costume shop. She pushed that thought out of her mind. It did not matter. The socks were lost and the new socks on the end of her black bodysuit were much more comfortable. The air was chilly today despite the bright sunlight. Alison could almost bet that the temperature had dropped while she was in the costume shop. Good thing she was now wearing a second layer of clothing. The spandex gloves would not seem out of place now. Especially since she was not wearing a fall coat.
Alison reached her next destination, the little bookshop that was the best in the whole city. She loved this place. It smelled like old paper and glue. There were stacks over-flowing with books filling up the little shop. The proprietor was a nice older gentleman that would often pull out books that he thought Alison might like to read. For the most part he had been correct. She made it a point of stopping by at least once every two weeks.
The bell rang out clearly as she pushed open the door. Her spandex coated hand glided over the polished, brass doorknob reminding her of the out fit she was wearing. As much as she loved the feeling of the tight body-stocking she really did not want to have to explain it to anyone. Most of all to someone she thought of fondly. What if they thought she was weird?
Alison was about to turn and fly from the bookstore when she was spied by the old man. "Ahh, if it isn't Alison," he said smiling. "Your arrival has made my day."
"Good morning, Mr. Dystrom," Alison called out. Too sheepish to step back out again she decided to look around a little before leaving. The shop was empty of other customers so no one would be staring at her hands. If anyone else came in she could leave quickly and Mr. Dystrom would not be offended.
"How is it outside?" Mr. Dystrom ask pleasantly. He was shuffling large boxes around. Each one seemed to be filled with books.
"Nippy," Alison said. She shivered. In the stuffy bookstore she could feel just how chilled her clothing had become from the short walk. Where ever her long-sleeved t-shirt touched the bodysuit under it there was a cooling feeling. Down her legs her baggy jeans crinkled and touched her legs randomly as she walked. The skin-tight spandex made it impossible to feel her pants on her legs. Every time the cool fabric touched the warm bodysuit she was surprised that she had forgot her second layer.
Mr. Dystrom chuckled. "Your description is apt considering your appearance."
He dropped his eyes momentarily to her top. When Alison followed she found she was now sporting two rather obvious nubs under her shirt. Alison quickly crossed her arms over her small chest covering the small nubs with her gloved hands. She blushed. He laughed louder at her embarrassment. He often teased her about being such a young a pretty girl just to see her go red in the face.
Alison skipped to the back of the store to start looking as he turned back to the boxes. She kept her hands cupping her breasts hoping to warm her nipples up so they would stop sticking out so much. It was odd she thought that you could see them through the many layers of fabric she was wearing. But somehow they felt almost at if they were straining to be seen. She quickly forgot about that as she became engrossed in the titles on the shelf.
Many minutes passed as she made her way from one section to the next. Alison found herself distracted every once and a while by the feeling of being so snugly wrapped in the bodysuit. When she stood she could feel the tops of her thighs rubbing against each other. The spandex would slide over itself and felt good against her crotch. When she knelt down to look at lower shelves the pulled tightly over her bottom. She kept tugging down her shirt of pulling up on her waist line to keep any part of the suit showing. Mr. Dystrom was not watching her but she felt like he was. The whole time she kept at least one arm over her breasts. The spandex glove was made her hand feel soft. Under the cotton t-shirt she could feel the layer of spandex tightly covering her body and she was soon tracing her fingers over her stomach to feel the spandex press on her skin.
Alison found herself in the romance section staring deeply at the cover of a cheep paper-back book. An over-tanned muscle boy with no shirt and long, wind-blown blond locks was imposing himself over the heroine. The man was the epitome of romance-novel manliness but Alison was captivated by the woman. She was lounging on a comfy chair looking up at the man with an expression that showed both desire and defiance to the strong man. She was beautiful and sexy; huge breasts, a miniscule waist and legs that were longer than the rest of her body, and large, prominently erect nipples. But the thing that caught Alison's eye most was her outfit. The woman wore a tight, shiny-black catsuit complete with gloves, high collar and a plunging neck-line to expose her cleavage.
Alison had to be this woman. She needed a costume for tonight. With the right accessories and a few modifications Alison knew she could make a half-decent version of this costume. Once she was determined to make this real, Alison felt a massive shiver washing over her body. Every little twitch of her body made the tight spandex tingle. She could feel her arms rubbing against her sides, her legs pressing together and her hips grinding into the spandex of the suit. She did not notice her nipples seemed to be larger than ever. Like two tiny cones, they were drilling out from her breasts over the cups of her bra to be wrapped tightly in the clingy black spandex. She took the book from the shelf in her gloved hands and made her way to the cash register.
"I didn't know you liked secret-agent romance stories," Mr. Dystrom said. "Never did like the writing in these books myself."
"It's just something about the cover I like," Alison said trying to sound flippant. "Maybe I will use it for research in my women's study course."
"Hah. There's likely plenty of material in here for you to rip apart." He rang up her bill and only stared a little at the black gloved hands that took the change.
Alison stepped out of the bookstore holding the book tightly. Going over the image of the woman again she tried to decide what she needed to look for first. Looking about the pedestrian mall, Alison saw another store that might have something to add to her costume. She started off in to the next store.