STORY 26: FUCKING IN THE DRESSING ROOM (End)

Chapter 1 I stepped into the dressing room, the velvet curtains brushing against my arms as I pushed through. The air was heavy with lavender and vanilla, a scent so rich it felt like it was soaking into my skin, making my senses sharper. I looked around, taking in the mirrored walls reflecting every angle of the room, the plush velvet chaise lounge in the corner, and a small table holding a decanter of chilled water, this place screamed money, luxury in every detail, and I couldn’t help but feel a spark of satisfaction. I was here to try on a tailored suit, something I’d been hyped about for weeks, picturing how sharp I’d look, how the fabric would hug my frame just right. I started unbuttoning my shirt, my fingers moving quick, eager to get to the suit. But then I heard a faint, rhythmic sound, barely there, coming from the other side of room. A soft rustling, like fabric shifting, completely out of place in the calm, polished vibe of this place. My hands froze on the buttons, my hea