Chapter 30
I've never been good with this kind of thing. My hands were sweating before we even stepped into that crowded store. The noise of people talking loud, the back-and-forth of sales clerks, the sensors beeping with every purchase... All of it made me want to vanish. But not her. She seemed right at home, strolling between the racks like she owned the place. The tips of her fingers brushed the dresses, but I knew she was watching me, always glancing my way from the corner of her eye, waiting for me to make the mistake of staring too long.
"This dress would look perfect on you." She caught me off guard, holding up a tight red number I never would've had the guts to wear.
I shook my head right away, trying to hide my face behind some random hanger.
"No way. It's too short."
She laughed, that deep, mischievous laugh that sent shivers across my skin.
"Then try it on. Just for me." It wasn't a request.
Before I could even answer, I felt her hand on my wrist. She pulled me between the racks, like she already knew exactly where she was headed. I knew what that meant. Ever since we left the house, the idea had been hanging in the air. Next thing I knew, we were in front of a fitting room. She yanked open the curtain and shoved me inside without a word. The space was tiny, stuffy, surrounded by mirrors that didn't let anything slide. When the curtain closed behind us, the click of the lock sounded louder than it should, muffling the whispers and the dull hum of the packed store outside. I could barely breathe. That cramped little spot, hemmed in by mirrors, now held the secret of my boldness. She, with her wicked grin and fiery eyes, didn't hesitate.
"You got wet just thinking about it, huh?" she asked, her voice husky with mischief, leaning in so her medium-sized tits brushed against my blouse.
"Shut up," I muttered, my tone weaker than I meant, because of course, she was right. I hated admitting it, but the idea of it all—so risky and crazy—had my heart pounding and my thighs slick already.
She grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at her. Her long fingers had a grip I wasn't expecting, and the touch made my skin tingle. In the mirror, our reflections looked bolder than I felt: her, confident and hungry, and me, trying not to crumble under the weight of my desire.
"Pull down those pants," she ordered, and for a second I thought I wouldn't obey. But my body betrayed my hesitation, my hands already at the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down to my knees. I stood there in just my panties, trapped by her devouring gaze.
She smirked. "I knew you'd let me, you slut!"
The mirror multiplied every move, every detail. Her fingers hooked the elastic of my panties, exposing the soft, hot skin, before letting them slide to the floor. The feeling of being naked in front of her, in that tight space, set me on fire.
Without warning, she dropped to her knees, gripping my hips so I couldn't back away. Her tongue, hot and insistent, found my wet, throbbing flesh. A moan slipped out before I could stop it, my hands clutching the wall hook to keep from losing my balance.
"Don't make a sound," she whispered against me, though her tone was so teasing I knew she didn't care if anyone heard. Her tongue traced every inch, exploring with a precision that made my body react to every touch.
I tried hard to stay quiet, biting my lips as her fingers joined in, sliding inside me easily. The mirror showed it all: my body twisting, her hair swaying as she devoured me like she was starving.
"You love it, don't you? Seeing yourself like this..." she murmured, lifting her eyes to mine while sucking my clit with torturous slowness. "Knowing you could get caught any second."
I wanted to deny it, but my body said otherwise.
My legs shook, and I felt the floor dropping away as she picked up the pace, mixing hard sucks with the pressure of her fingers inside me. Heat climbed up my back, my head leaning against the wall as my orgasm built, a tight knot low in my belly ready to snap any second.
When I finally came, it was like time stopped. Every muscle in my body clenched as my pleasure burst in intense waves. She didn't stop, keeping on sucking and rubbing my most sensitive spot until my breaths were just ragged gasps.
"You're all messy now," she said, standing up and running her thumb over her wet lips, full of shameless pride.
Before I could respond, she turned, leaning against the mirror and starting to undress. Her medium-sized tits came into view first, dark nipples contrasting her soft skin, then she slid down her panties, baring her naked body without holding back.
"Now it's your turn," she said, her voice thick with desire.
I dropped to my knees, unable to hold back a smile.
With my knees against the cold fitting room floor, I approached her like I was discovering something forbidden and precious all at once. Her spread legs offered a view that hypnotized me, every detail of her glistening with provocative wetness. She was deliciously exposed, and the hot scent of her arousal filled the tight air between us.
"You gonna stare or do something?" she teased, her tone challenging but with a hint of impatience.
I laughed, but didn't answer. My hands slid up her thighs, slow, feeling the soft, warm texture of her skin. Her breathing got heavy the moment my fingers found their way between her legs. She was wet and hot as hell, the kind of heat that only stoked my own desire.
"Don't tease now, get to it," she whispered, her voice shifting between command and plea.
My mouth reached its target, and I started slow, exploring with my tongue. Her taste was salty and sweet at the same time, something so unique it made me want more. I pressed my lips against her, sucking gently while my fingers slid inside, feeling the soft resistance give way easily.
She moaned low, muffling it by biting her own fist. "Fuck, just like that... harder..." she guided with her words, her hips bucking against my mouth.
My fingers worked her in a slow rhythm, while my tongue focused on her most sensitive spot. On my knees, I felt every part of her react to my movements: the spasms in her legs, the quiver in her belly, the way her short nails scratched the mirror behind her.
When her breathing turned erratic, I knew she was close. So I doubled down, sucking her clit hard while twisting my fingers inside her. Her body arched forward, her knees buckling, and she grabbed the wall hook to keep from collapsing.
"Fuck, don't stop, shit!" she cried, but her voice came out muffled as she buried her face in her arm.
And then it hit: her orgasm crashed like a storm, her legs clamping around my face as she moaned so loud I feared for a second someone outside the fitting room heard. Her breaths were heavy, choppy, as she slid to the floor, panting and satisfied.
I sat on the floor next to her, still breathing hard, her taste on my lips. She turned her head to look at me, her eyes shining with a mix of exhaustion and lust.
"You're naughtier than I thought," she said, laughing, as she pulled my hand over and kissed it softly.
Still naked, she stood up slow, her knees shaky. She turned to the mirror and glanced at me over her shoulder. "We gotta get out of here before someone knocks, but damn, you left me weak."
"And you don't even know how much I want more," I replied, my voice still hoarse from the excitement.
She dressed in a hurry, but with a natural grace, adjusting the dress on her perfect body. When we were almost ready to leave, she pulled me in for one last kiss, a wet, lingering one that left me breathless.
"That was just round one," she whispered in my ear, before unlocking the door and stepping out like nothing happened, leaving me there trying to act normal.
In that moment, I knew what started in that fitting room wasn't ending anytime soon.