My only thought as we made our way to the last shop was, 'How am I going to last 10 days to Thursday of next week and Dr. Wang?' Thank God the girls' reservoirs took a week or so to fill up.
The last shop of the day was intended as a safety measure just in case either of the two prior shops had bombed. I guided the energetically bouncing cockteasers into the discreet, but very expensive, jewelry store that was just down the street from where we had left my car. The fittings here in this shop were simpler, but just as personal.
They took the ring sizes of each finger and toe, and measured the waist, neck, and forehead sizes. The female clerk then simply lifted their shirts up and measured the nipples relaxed and erect, as well as the distance between the two nipples. Noticing Sally's pierced nipple, she cleaned it and checked if it was still patent. It was. The clerk also measured the thickness of the flaps around their navels, and skillfully stimulated the clitoris of each girl and measured the length and breadth of it while erect. Cunt lips were measured as well. Both women, as well as the clerk, were breathing raggedly by the end of the measurements. It seemed to me the clerk had enjoyed - and drawn out - the session. Janey was slightly shaken by it, more by her response to the woman, than was Sally. Janey had yet to learn to simply enjoy the pleasure received from sexual stimulation, whether from a man or a woman.
After things calmed down a bit, we went into a private showroom. Colors were discussed, and skin tones were matched against color charts. For being so similar in appearance to Sally, I was surprised to learn that different colors and stones brought out Janey's highlights. Janey favored rubies and red colors, while Sally was absolutely stunning in emeralds and greens. They also had different tastes in jewelry, though equally expensive. Each picked out a favorite bracelet. I selected a necklace with rubies and one with emeralds, and we left.
After what had happened so far today, dinner was surprisingly uneventful. Apparently, the expensive trinkets I had purchased for them had bought me some good behavior by my lovelies, as there were no arrests for indecent exposure in the exclusive restaurant. The owners had waived the strictly enforced dress code for us as I had rented a modest banquet room out of sight of the main customer area. I had warned the owner that my guests might be underdressed for his establishment and, after seeing them, he rolled his eyes. He was also very apologetic
"Mr. Sampson, forgive me. When you asked for, no, insisted upon female service personnel for this evening, I misunderstood your intentions. Oye! Now I understand. My waiters would break every dish in the house tripping over their tongues if they were to serve these two magnificent ladies. Please, come this way down the back hall. I appreciate your discretion in this."
As he walked away, leaving us in a sumptuous room, all three of us heard him mutter, "Lucky bastard. Some guys have all the luck." Our laughter met the arriving service personnel, all attractive young women, all in very revealing attire. He had misunderstood. I wore a shit-eating grin all through the meal. I only got kicked twice under the table, too. One of the serving wenches had tits "out to here", but her top didn't quite reach that far...
Dinner was light fare. We still had the ball game to go to. I left an overgenerous tip as Sally glared at me in mock-rage. At least, I hoped it was a put-on.
The conversation in the car to the ballpark was sparse, but not strained. Sally, I think, was still trying to figure out what had happened at the Rosen's clinic. Of the two of them, she was the one more in tune with her body. She knew something was different, but wasn't sure exactly what it was. Janey didn't seem to notice anything.
I had arranged for us to have box seats at the game, right above the dugout on the first base line. Sally and Janey loved it. As a cheerleader, I think it was the first game Janey had been to in a long time that she didn't have to stand with her back to the action.
It was an exciting game, and the two of them got lost in the suspense and action of a good hard fought contest. They were jumping up and down excitedly, not with the intent to tease, as they had most of the day, but simply for joy. Their intentions did not lessen the effects of their bouncing boobs on the rest of the fans, however, or on the players.
By the end of the fifth inning, there were only a handful of spectators left in the stands as you looked from our seats on the first base line over across third base. It looked as if the stands were practically empty, but there was still a substantial roar from the crowd. All of the fans had gradually wandered around behind and to the sides of our box for a better view of the show the short shirts and tight shorts were providing them. The fans began to cheer more for the show than the game, with the loudest cheers coming at times of no apparent action on the field. The players were at first puzzled at what was going on, until they were in the field and could get a look at antics of my two dates that were generating the roar.
At the seventh inning stretch, I bought hot dogs, peanuts and drinks, beer for Sally and me, soda for Janey. The peanuts were salty, and the dogs thick with mustard and kraut, just the way I like them. Two beers apiece didn't quite slacken the thirst, and by the bottom of the ninth, I bought a third beer apiece, and another soda for Janey.
I drank down the top third of my beer and watched the opposing pitcher strike out the first batter. Two runs were all that separated the two teams, and when the second batter walked, the excitement in the stadium grew. They were at the top of their batting order. We were all on our feet, waiting, watching...
"Yuck! How can you guys drink this stuff?"
I turned to watch Janey with my beer to her nose, smelling the brew.
"Janey, don't!" I said, quietly, but forcefully.
Too late. She took a deep breath, then chugged a big swig of the drink, wrinkling her nose like taking terrible tasting medicine. She caught my eye out of the corner of hers, and turned and stared defiantly over the rim of the cup. Ten dagger-like fingernails imbedded themselves in my arm. I think Sally was trying to get my attention. She would have to wait, as Janey had all of mine at the moment.
"Janey, I asked you to stop, not to drink that. You are still underage," I said.
"So? Who's going to care?" she quipped back, still in prick-teaser mode.
Quietly I said to her, "I care." Ten sharp pains in my arm reminded me to add, "Your mother cares, too, a lot!" I looked at her for a minute, weighing the options available to me in this public arena. I copped out. "Janey, we will discuss this later."
She caught the seriousness in my voice, and maybe just a glimmer of the murderous look in her mother's eye. But youth, as they say, is wasted on the young. She turned back to the game, and in the blink of an eye, was caught back up in it as if nothing had happened.
As it was, Janey may have been the deciding factor in the game. The visitors were two runs ahead and one out away from winning. There was a man on third and the tying run was on first. The star of the home team, Mac Washington, hitless for the night, was at bat. Janey, always one to root for the home team, leaped out of her seat and stood on her chair, yelling and waving both hands over her head. The tremendous roar of approval for her unconscious titty show came right in the middle of the pitcher's delivery. Whether that had something to do with it, or whether the pitcher was just tired isn't clear, but the pitch hung up in the strike zone. Mac swung for all he was worth and the ball left the park. The home team had won.
We hung around after the game for a while, then made our way to the home team locker room. The fans that were still there in the stands, most of them actually, cheered the two blondes and we left.