Hearing the moan, Nat called to her, "You doing okay back there?"
"Yeah," Nat sighed, "I'm fine." She took a breath and climbed into the romper. She pulled the outfit's straps up over her shoulder and felt the clothing pull up tightly against her crotch. She knew that her panties could complicate the sensations of her sensitive body, and she became starkly aware that this was not going to be doing her any favors. She adjusted the top of it, pulling it down a bit, to make room in the crotch, but in this way, the elastic band at the top sat very close to her nipples. Its coarse stitching strummed across her chest as she moved about, which caused her to shiver and hum. Goose bumps raised across her flesh, along with her nipples, and more of her fluids continued to spill from her loins.
It seemed that no matter which way she wore the romper, it was too small to wear comfortably with her super-orgasmic condition. Either it stimulated the nerves of her nipples and breasts, or it tugged up into her crack and rubbed against her clit. Nat's only other option was to bow out of the show, which she was desperate not to do. She drew back the curtain and stepped out into the dressing room and blushed. Instinctively, she put her hands in front of her crotch, fearing that she was already soaking through the bottom.
Nat hooted cheerily. "You look like a hippie! You just need a crown of daisies to complete the look."
"It's pretty tight!" Elle said skeptically.
Nat frowned. "Hm, let me see." She stood in front of Elle and looked her up and down, effectively blocking the view of the two boys. She thought for a bit and then leaned in to move Elle's hands to her sides to get a better look. Elle fidgeted and sighed. Nat could see a slightly dark strip at her crotch, where Elle's moisture was soaking through. She could see that the crotch of the garment was pulled tightly up between Elle's legs, showing off the contours of her puffy pussy lips and the dip between them. The contrast of the wet spot emphasized her camel toe all the more. "Yeah," Nat said, "That looks like it would fit me, but it's a bit small on you."
Nat bent over and tugged at the legs of the romper, trying to get her friend some additional room. This pulled the elastic band at the top of the outfit down over Elle's nipples, causing Elle to cry out in both surprise and pleasure.
Neither of the boys in the room quite understood what was going on, but both were picking up on a strange, sensual vibe emanating from Elle's quaking figure.
Nat, was taken aback by Elle's cry. "What? What's wrong?"
"You pulled the top down over my… boobs."
"Oh, sorry." Nat reached up to pull the top back up again, and Elle cried out again and braced herself against the wall, legs wobbling as she felt both the elastic against her nipples and the the bottom of the romper tugging back up against her pussy. She whined, spreading her legs slightly and gently bucked her hips uncontrollably toward her friend.
"Mm… sorry, that just feels…" Elle drifted off.
"Why don't we just leave this where it is," Nat suggested, "and we'll take care of it after the catwalk, okay?"
Elle nodded, her eyes staring off into the distance. She hobbled over to a stool and perched on the edge of it.
Marcus and Rafael exchanged confused looks. Marcus spoke up. "Is she hurt?"
Nat shook her head. "She'll be fine—more than fine. She just has a condition that creeps up every so often. You kinda just gotta let her handle it."
She nodded, and they all sat in awkward silence, trying and failing to find a way to change the subject.
It wasn't much longer before the handler returned with boots for the two girls — more specifically, roller skates.
"You two know how to skate?"
Nat nodded. "Well enough."
"Great. You two are going to be roller girls. I guessed your sizes. Hopefully these fit."
"I think you chose too small a size for Ellie's romper," Nat said, trying to be helpful.
The woman looked Elle up and down. She couldn't see the moist strip in the crotch from her angle. "It might be a size too small, but it'll work for now. You just gotta get down the runway and back and you're done." Elle swallowed hard and nodded.
Nat sat on the ground and started lacing up her skates. She tipped her head at Rafael, "You wanna help her get these on?"
"Oh! Uh, sure," he replied dopily. He knelt down in front of Elle and placed her foot into the skate. As he tightened up the laces, he followed her legs with his eyes. They were so fit and smooth and had clearly gotten a lot of sun that summer. His eyes picked up a subtle movement and he continued upward until he could see the girl timidly rocking her hips back and forth across the edge of the stool. From his angle, her crotch undulated in and out of view. He noticed a glossy patch of wetness between her legs, and at that point also noted a strong scent in the air. He was unsure just what the young girl was doing, or what condition she was in—as Kaia had mentioned—but for him to be so close to whatever it was she was doing, it was an erotic sight.
Elle noticed that Rafael was staring and she looked down and caught his eye. He snapped his head back down to focus on the work of tying her boots, and the two of them blushed together. Elle also shifted onto the stool and attempted to remain still.
Marcus also saw a chance to flirt with Nat and he offered to help her get her skates on. She agreed and the two of them made eyes at one another, giggling as they worked together. Nat, though happy to be modeling for Freya was becoming more and more eager for some one-on-one time with her new boy. She could feel herself getting wet with anticipation, though she knew her panties would soak it all up, unlike Elle.
The waiting assistant interrupted their reverie. "Alright, you love birds, let's get you queued up. On your feet."
Marcus helped Nat up off the ground and she steadied herself against him. She pulled herself close and inhaled his scent. Elle was able to push off from the stool she sat on, though her wheels slipped and she staggered forward into Rafael. The sudden movement pulled the too-small romper up into her crack and she moaned aloud in his ear as a white-hot sensation, somewhere between pain and pleasure, coursed from between her legs throughout her body.
"Are— are you alright?" Rafael asked, bewildered.
Elle put a hand to her forehead, and groaned in frustration, "I'm fine, I'm fine. I just got a wedgie. This thing's too small. Let's go, Kaia."
The woman assistant led the way and the two girls skated behind her. Elle panted with each stride as her movements caused her outfit to tantalize her most sensitive areas. Her whole body glowed with a sheen of sweat. She felt more than ready to cum, and couldn't wait to get back to the dressing room.
Nat could tell that Elle was having a hard time of it, but she didn't know what she could do to help at that time. She smiled wryly at her friend and said, "Just down the runway and back, remember?"
Elle nodded silently, solemnly, in return. Just down the runway and back, she thought to herself.
They queued up behind a line of other Freya models just as the DJ began to announce the details of the new clothing line. Nat stood behind Elle and rubbed her shoulders in an attempt to get her to relax.
"Does that help?" Nat inquired closely in her friend's ear.
Elle rocked her head back and sighed. "I dunno, but I do at least feel less tense right now."
"Good. We'll get through this. I'll let you go first, so you can get in and get out." Nat leaned in and pecked Elle delicately on the cheek.
Elle shivered and whispered back, "And get off."
One by one, the other models filed out onto the catwalk to thumping neo-disco. Each girl wore skates to match her '70s-inspired outfit, just like Elle and Nat.
The girl in front of Elle had just taken her first strides onto the catwalk when she came skidding back out of view. "There was a fall!" she cried.
A stagehand rushed past them and disappeared through the entrance. A minute later, he returned, supporting two models by the waist. Both were leaning heavily on his shoulders.
"Out of the way!" he shouted.
Elle and Nat stared. One model was limping on her skates; the other had blood streaking down her face.
"Oh my god," Nat breathed.
The large assistant woman hurried back, waving her arm in a rolling motion. "They'll be fine. Let's put this behind us and keep the show going."
The professional model in front of Elle and Nat nodded once, snapping instantly into performance mode. She stepped onto the catwalk—and moments later, it was Elle's turn.
She made one last-ditch attempt to force her outfit to behave, but it was no use. As soon as she started moving, the fabric pulled up between her legs. She could do nothing but grimace and bear it, and so she rolled out into the spectacle once again. The thudding bass of the playlist hummed through the air. Massive speakers pulsed against the stage, thrumming through her body. As her wheels rolled along the surface of the catwalk, they, too, sent vibrations up from her tingling toes, straight to her inner thighs. Her nerves chained the sensation from one fiber of her being to another, and she trembled as each stride sawed the soaked crotch of her romper up into her cleft.
Her ecstasy was taking hold and the cacophony of the event began to fade around her and her vision began to darken. The music, too, deadened until she could only make out the four-count bass beat. Her orgasm boiled within her. Her chest heaved, and she felt as if she were drowning in a deep ocean. She knew that she was rapidly approaching an intense cum. Her nether region flared with pleasure, and she felt herself teetering on the edge of insanity, on display in front of hundreds, there on the catwalk.
But she fought back. Not to prevent embarrassing herself in front of the crowd she knew to be out beyond the hazy fog in her mind—that part of her consciousness had shut off—but to bask in the bliss of being brought all the way to the edge yet to delay and extend her mounting pleasure ever longer. In her reverie, however, she could still sense that she had come to another kind of edge: the physical edge of the stage. She paused a moment. Not long, but just enough to catch her breath and collect her wits. In this respite of clarity, she realized her hips were grinding the air. The action dragged her electrified clit and tender pussy lips along the tight fabric seams at her crotch. Much as she wanted to tear off the entire outfit and finish herself right then and there, she balled her fists and willed her body back under control. She spun herself around for the return journey back across the stage.
Nat followed Elle out, a few feet back, and watched her friend the whole way. She saw Elle acting differently than their initial run down the catwalk. Then, Elle was mousey and nervous. Now, she was saucy, and slinky, almost liquid in form. If Nat had not had a deeper understanding of Elle's condition, she might have even mistaken it for confidence. She watched as Elle stopped at the edge of the stage and paused, swinging her hips out and back in a lurid, sexual simulation. She could even hear the crowd gasping under the music. Nat was taken in by the performance. She understood more than anybody else there the maddening pleasure that was seeping from her friend's every pore, every orifice. She had experienced Elle's orgasmic torrents of rapture first hand just the day before in a dressing room at that very mall. Between Nat's memories, Elle's growing sexual hunger and wanton displays, and Marcus's flirting, Nat, too, was ready for some action.