Jules 3.0 Fathers Day

 Part 3-Fathers Day

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Father’s Day rolled around a few weeks after the vodka-cranberry family night, and Jules and Claire were determined to make it a memorable one. The house was decked out with cheesy decorations—balloons shaped like ties and a glittery “Best Dad Ever” banner Jules had insisted on making. But the real plan, as Jules whispered to Claire that morning, was to “get totally sloshed” in your honor and “look hot doing it.”

They’d gone shopping earlier that week, sneaking off to pick out new outfits they knew would catch your eye.

It was a crisp Tuesday afternoon when Jules and Claire set out for the mall, determined to find “sexy outfits” for their Father’s Day surprise. They’d agreed to find “sexy outfits” to surprise you, a plan Jules had hatched with a mischievous grin over breakfast. Claire, usually the more grounded of the two, had been roped in by Jules’ infectious energy—and maybe a mimosa or two they’d shared to “get in the mood.”

Jules had swapped her usual holey sweatpants for the red plaid skirt she’d modeled a few weeks back, pairing it with a cropped tank top—no bra, naturally—and her trusty denim shirt. The skirt swished with every step, barely covering her thighs, and she’d skipped underwear, embracing her carefree vibe. Claire, ever the more polished of the two, wore high-waisted jeans and a white blouse, her gray lace bralette subtly visible beneath. They were on a mission, and Jules’ infectious energy had Claire grinning as they stepped into the mall.

Their first stop was Edge & Elegance, a boutique promising “bold looks for bold women.” The store was sleek, with black velvet walls and racks of daring outfits. As they browsed, a sales associate—a chic woman with a sleek ponytail—offered them each a glass of champagne. “For our VIP shoppers,” she said with a wink, handing Jules and Claire flutes of bubbly. Jules took hers with a grin, sipping immediately, while Claire hesitated only a moment before joining in, the bubbles tickling her nose.

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The sales associate at Edge & Elegance was a striking woman named Simone, who exuded the kind of effortless confidence the store promised in its tagline. Simone was in her early twenties, with a sleek, high ponytail of jet-black hair that swung as she moved, her sharp cheekbones and winged eyeliner giving her a polished, almost catlike air. Her skin was a warm olive tone, and her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as she greeted Jules and Claire.

Simone’s outfit matched the boutique’s vibe—bold yet elegant. She wore a fitted black jumpsuit that hugged her slender frame, the deep V-neckline showing off a delicate gold necklace and a glimpse of a lacy black bra underneath. The jumpsuit tapered at her ankles, revealing strappy gold stilettos that clicked softly against the store’s polished floor. A thin, metallic belt cinched her waist, adding a touch of glamour to the sleek ensemble, and her nails were painted a deep burgundy, matching the store’s velvet walls.

When she offered Jules and Claire each a glass of champagne, Simone already had a flute in her hand, the pale gold liquid half-gone. “For our VIP shoppers,” she’d said with a wink, her voice smooth with a faint French accent. It was clear she’d been sipping throughout her shift—her cheeks had a soft flush, and her movements were just a touch looser than they might’ve been otherwise. 

“Fancy,” Jules said, holding up her glass as she rifled through a rack of leather pieces. She pulled out the black leather bralette and mini skirt combo, her eyes lighting up. “This is *it*, Mom. Daddy is gonna lose it. Sexy rockstar vibes, right?”

Simone leaned against the counter as they browsed, sipping slowly, her laughter a little louder than necessary when Jules held up the leather bralette. “Magnifique,” Simone purred, raising her glass in approval, the champagne sloshing slightly. “You’ll look like a rockstar, chérie.”

Claire, sipping her champagne, nodded as she found a deep red satin slip dress. “It’s you, alright. And this might work for me.” She held up the dress, the fabric shimmering. “Flirty but not too much.”

They finished their champagne, the light buzz setting the tone as they paid for their outfits, giggling over how you’d react. By the time Jules and Claire finished their glasses, Simone had poured herself a refill, making it her fourth glass of the afternoon. She’d clearly had enough to feel the buzz—four glasses over a few hours—but not so much that she couldn’t ring up their purchases with a steady hand, her gold stilettos keeping her upright as she swayed to the store’s ambient music. With their purchases bagged, Jules tugged Claire toward Victoria’s Secret. “We gotta see Tessa,” she insisted. “She’s, like, my drunk soulmate.”

Inside, Tessa was behind the counter, her blonde bob a little messier than last time, her black blazer wrinkled and her pink camisole slightly askew. She brightened when she saw Jules. 

 She brightened when she saw Jules. “Redhead! You’re back!” she called, her voice slurring slightly. “And you brought… a friend?”

“My mom, Claire,” Jules said, her plaid skirt swishing as she pulled Claire forward. “We’re shopping for Father’s Day. Gotta look hot. You got anything for us?”

Tessa clapped, wobbling in her skirt. “Hell yeah, I do. But first—drinks!” She reached under the counter, pulling out a bottle of prosecco she’d “borrowed” from a staff event. “I’m halfway through my shift, and I’m bored. Let’s celebrate.”

Claire hesitated, but Jules was all in. “You’re the best, Tessa. Pop it!” Tessa opened the bottle with a *pop*, fizz spilling over her hands as she poured it into three plastic cups. “To hot outfits and hot dads!” she toasted. They clinked, the prosecco sweet and bubbly, and drank deeply.

The first cup went down easy, and Tessa led them to a rack of lingerie, her black skirt bouncing as she walked. “Jules, you’re all about the bold stuff. How ‘bout fishnets? They’d go with that leather thing.” She tossed a pair of black fishnet tights at Jules, who caught them with a drunken giggle.

“Perfect!” Jules said, sipping her second cup, her red plaid skirt riding up as she bent to inspect the tights. “Mom, you need somethin’ too. Like… sexy heels or somethin’.”

Claire, her cheeks pink from the prosecco, laughed as she finished her cup. “Fine. Heels it is.” She picked out a pair of strappy black heels. “These’ll go with the dress. But I’m not trying them on yet—I’m already tipsy.”

Tessa poured another round, her skirt swishing as she moved. “You both look amazin’. Let’s try stuff on!” She led them to a larger changing room at the back of the store, one designed for groups, with three mirrors and a small bench. It was different from the cramped stall Jules and Tessa had used last time, giving them space to spread out. They took turns modeling—Jules strutting in her fishnets and tank top, the red plaid skirt still on, Claire slipping on the heels and doing a wobbly twirl in her jeans, and Tessa even joining in, hiking up her black skirt to try on a pair of thigh-high stockings she’d grabbed.

By the third cup, they were a mess. Jules tripped over her own feet, landing on the bench next to Claire, both of them laughing so hard they cried. Tessa, her crop top askew and her skirt riding up, leaned against a mirror, fanning herself with a bra she’d snatched off a rack. “You guys are my favorite,” she slurred. “Best shift ever.”

Claire, her blouse half-untucked, grinned at Jules. “We’re a disaster. But these outfits… they’re gonna kill him.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jules said, raising her empty cup, her plaid skirt crumpled from sitting. “Thanks, Tessa.”

They stumbled out after buying the fishnets and heels, Tessa waving them off in her black skirt, promising to “party again soon.” The prosecco buzz carried them home, their bags swinging, their laughter echoing through the mall—a chaotic shopping trip that set the stage for their Father’s Day surprise.

Here’s an addition to the story detailing how Claire and Jules get home after their tipsy shopping trip, including who they call for a ride:


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After their prosecco-fueled adventure with Tessa at Victoria’s Secret, Claire and Jules were in no state to drive. They stumbled out of the mall, arms linked, their shopping bags swinging wildly. Jules’ red plaid skirt flared with each uneven step, her fishnet tights already snagging at the knee from her drunken antics in the changing room. Claire’s white blouse was untucked, her jeans slightly wrinkled and unbottoned, and her cheeks were as flushed as the prosecco they’d downed. Both were giggling, the buzz from three cups each making the world a little too bright and wobbly.

“We can’t drive, Mom,” Jules slurred, leaning against Claire as they stood in the mall’s parking lot. “I’m, like, *so* drunk. You’re drunk too. We need a ride.”

Claire nodded, fishing her phone out of her purse with unsteady hands. “You’re right. Let’s call… let’s call your stepdad.” She dialed your number, putting it on speaker as they sat on a nearby bench, their bags piled around them.

You picked up on the second ring, your voice amused. “Hey, you two. Done shopping already?”

“Daddy!” Jules shouted, snatching the phone from Claire. “We’re *trashed*. Like, prosecco trashed. Tessa got us drunk again. You gotta come get us.”

Claire laughed, leaning into the phone. “She’s not wrong. We’re at the mall. Can you pick us up? We’re… not fit to drive.”

You chuckled, already grabbing your keys. “I should’ve known. Tessa again, huh? Sit tight, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

True to your word, you pulled up in your SUV fifteen minutes later, finding them still on the bench, Jules sprawled across Claire’s lap, both of them giggling over a story Tessa had told about a drunken date. You stepped out, shaking your head as you took in their disheveled state. “You two are a mess,” you said, grabbing their bags and helping Claire to her feet. “Let’s get you home before you start a riot.”

Jules stumbled into the backseat, her red skirt riding up as she flopped down. “You’re the best, Daddy,” she mumbled. Claire took the front seat, her heels dangling from her hand as she buckled in, still laughing softly.

“Thanks for this,” Claire said, glancing at you with a tipsy smile. “We had… too much fun.”

“Clearly,” you replied, starting the car. “Next time, I’m coming with you.”

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Jules, always the bolder of the two, had chosen a black leather bralette with thin straps, paired with a matching high-waisted mini skirt that barely covered her freckled thighs. She’d skipped underwear entirely, staying true to her carefree vibe, and added fishnet tights for an extra punk edge. Her red curls were loose, cascading over her shoulders, and she’d swiped on some dark eyeliner to complete the look. Claire, more understated but still stunning, opted for a deep red satin slip dress, the kind that clung to her curves and ended mid-thigh. The thin straps and low neckline showed off her gray lace bralette underneath, a nod to her practical yet sexy style. She’d let her dark hair down, soft waves framing her face, and slipped on strappy black heels to match.

The evening started innocently enough. You were lounging in the living room, a cold soda in hand, when Jules burst in, a bottle of tequila in one hand and a tray of limes in the other. “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” she cheered, her skirt swishing as she spun. “We’re celebratin’ you—by gettin’ drunk and lookin’ hot. Right, Mom?”

Claire followed, a bottle of salt and shot glasses in her hands, her red dress catching the light. “She insisted,” Claire said with a smirk, though her flushed cheeks suggested she was already on board. “You deserve a fun night, so we’re going all out.”


You raised an eyebrow, taking in their outfits. “You two look… wow. And you’re drinking for me? I’m flattered.”

“Damn right,” Jules said, setting up the shot station on the coffee table. She poured two shots of tequila, her movements already a little sloppy from a “pre-game” shot she and Claire had taken in the kitchen. “New outfits, new vibes. Let’s do this!”

They started with a toast—“To the best dad ever!”—and downed the first shot, Jules licking salt off her wrist and Claire following suit, both biting into limes with dramatic winces. The tequila hit fast, and by the second shot, they were giggling, Jules swaying in her fishnets as she cranked up a pop playlist on her phone.

“Look at this skirt, Daddy,” Jules slurred, twirling so the leather flared, showing off her lack of underwear with a drunken laugh. “Sexy, right? I’m, like, a rockstar tonight.”

“Very rockstar,” you said, sipping your beer and trying not to laugh as she nearly tripped. “Careful, though.”

Claire, on her third shot, leaned back on the couch, the satin dress slipping up her thighs. “I’m keepin’ up,” she said, her voice softening as she kicked off her heels. “This dress is… maybe too much. But it’s Father’s Day. Gotta look good for you.” She winked, her gray bralette peeking out as she stretched.

By the fourth shot, they were a mess. Jules climbed onto the couch, standing on the cushions to “model” her outfit, her fishnets snagging slightly as she posed. “I’m a queen!” she declared, then toppled into Claire’s lap, both of them dissolving into laughter. Claire, her cheeks as red as her dress, tried to push Jules off but ended up spilling her shot down her front, the tequila soaking the satin.

“Oops,” Claire giggled, brushing at the stain. “Guess I’m a mess too. Happy Father’s Day, huh?”

You shook your head, grinning as you handed them water bottles. “You two are something else. Best Father’s Day gift—watching you both have fun. But hydrate now, or I’ll be carrying you to bed.”

Jules took the water, still sprawled across Claire’s lap, her leather bralette askew. “Worth it,” she mumbled, grinning. “Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too,” Claire added, her head resting on Jules’ shoulder, the red dress clinging to her like a second skin. They sipped their water, still tipsy, their sexy outfits a little rumpled but their Father’s Day mission a chaotic success.


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