The bell above the shop door jangled. A man stepped inside, brushing rain from his coat sleeves. His eyes scanned the cramped boutique—racks of dresses packed tight, mannequins draped in lace.
“Can I help?” A woman emerged from behind a curtain. Her name tag read Zoe. She smoothed her pencil skirt and smiled at the handsome man.
He explained his girlfriend’s birthday gift—a specific red dress. Zoe’s eyes lingered on his strong hands as he gestured. “Size six? That’s my size,” she said, her voice softening.
She led him toward the dresses, hips swaying deliberately. Her fingers brushed his arm as she pulled a dress from the rack. “What do you think of this?”
“It’s nice,” he murmured, watching her instead of the fabric. “But I don’t know; it’s hard to picture.”
Zoe tilted her head, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Well,” she paused, letting the silence stretch. “I could slip it on. Give you a proper look.” She didn’t wait for confirmation, already stepping towards the fitting rooms, the dress draped over her arm. He followed, the air thickening with unspoken tension.
Inside the small mirrored cubicle, she slid the curtain shut—but not all the way. A deliberate inch remained open. He watched her silhouette move, the rustle of fabric loud in the quiet shop. Her blouse slipped off first, revealing smooth shoulders. Then came the soft whisper of her skirt falling. His breath hitched as she stepped into the crimson dress, pulling it up slowly over bare legs.
Zoe emerged moments later. The silk clung to her curves, dipping low at the back where his gaze lingered. “Well?”
“It suits you,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low. “Better than I imagined. Spin for me.”
His request wasn’t a question. She held his gaze, then turned slowly on the balls of her feet. “Does she like it tight?” Her voice was honey, thick with suggestion. He stepped closer, fingertips brushing the small of her back.
“Well, I definitely like it tight,” he murmured, his hand sliding lower, tracing the dip where the dress ended. His knuckles grazed the bare swell of her ass. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips—not protest, but invitation.
“You have a girlfriend,” Zoe stated, turning her head slightly to catch his reflection in the mirror. Her tone wasn’t accusatory; it was curious, testing the waters. “Buying her a dress while your fingers are tracing another woman’s skin. Does she know how… adventurous you are?” She arched her back subtly, pressing herself against his palm.
He didn’t answer. Instead, his thumb slid firmly along the hemline of the dress, dipping beneath the fabric. His knuckles brushed against smooth, bare skin—no barrier, no lace. Just warm, soft flesh. Zoe gasped softly, leaning her weight against him. “Careful,” she breathed, her voice trembling slightly. “That’s… not part of the fitting.”
“Isn’t it?” His other hand gripped her hip, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her lower back through his trousers. “Seems like the most important part.” His fingers traced higher along her thigh, finding the slick heat between her legs. She was already wet, trembling at his touch.
She gasped as his middle finger slid deep inside her, curling upward. Her knees buckled; he held her upright against his body. “Oh god,” she breathed, arching into his touch. “The curtain—”
“Isn’t closed,” he finished, nipping her earlobe. His thumb circled her clit while his finger pumped steadily. Through the gap in the curtain, anyone walking past could glimpse her flushed face, the way her knuckles whitened where she gripped his thigh. The risk thickened the air like perfume.
He withdrew his slick fingers slowly, deliberately, and spun her around. The red dress gaped open where he’d pushed it aside. “Let them see,” he murmured, unbuckling his belt with one hand while the other gripped her hip. His cock sprang free, thick and urgent against her bare stomach. Zoe whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders as he lifted her leg, hooking it over his arm.
She gasped as he drove into her in one smooth thrust, filling her completely. The mirror rattled against the wall. Her head fell back, exposing the frantic pulse in her throat. “Harder,” she breathed, her hips grinding against his. “Before someone comes.”
He obliged, slamming her against the cool glass with each deep stroke. The silk dress bunched around her waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thigh where it hooked over his arm. Her moans came sharp and ragged, muffled only by the damp press of his mouth against her shoulder.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded against his collarbone, biting down to silence herself. His rhythm grew punishing; each thrust driving her body into the trembling mirror. Condensation bloomed where her cheek pressed against the glass. Zoe’s hand scrabbled behind her, tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he pistoned into her. “Yes… fuck, right there…” Her whisper dissolved into a choked cry.
“You’re such a good fuck,” he breathed against her damp neck, lips brushing her racing pulse. Zoe watched as his grip tightened on her thigh, her cheeks flushed, silk dress shoved up around her waist. The sight of him pounding into her from behind made her clench tighter around his cock. “Look at yourself,” he commanded hoarsely. “Look how fucking hot you are.”
She watched his cock disappear inside her again and again, slick and obscene. “Oh god,” she whimpered, her clit rubbing against his thrusting thigh with every snap of his hips. Her moans climbed higher, uncontrolled. “Don’t stop—don’t—”
Her orgasm hit like lightning. Zoe’s back arched violently off the mirror as her inner walls clamped down hard around him. A high, keening cry tore from her throat—raw and desperate—before she buried her face against his shoulder to muffle it. Her body convulsed against his, trembling uncontrollably as waves of pleasure radiated from her core. He held her tighter, grinding deeper as she rode the spasms.
“Fuck yes,” he growled against her ear, his hips never slowing. Her climax only fueled him. He drove into her slick heat relentlessly, the wet slap of skin echoing off the cramped walls. Zoe gasped, oversensitive and shuddering, her nails scraping down his back. “Too much,” she whimpered, but her hips lifted instinctively to meet every thrust.
“Quiet,” he ordered, but his own breathing was ragged now. He could feel his climax building, tightening low in his belly. Zoe nodded frantically, biting her lip as he resumed his brutal pace. She met him thrust for thrust, her ass slapping against his thighs. Her slickness coated him, dripping down her inner thighs onto the floor. He watched her reflection—flushed face, wild eyes, the red silk bunched around her waist—and knew he couldn’t hold back.
Suddenly, he withdrew completely, leaving her gasping and empty. “Turn around,” he commanded, voice thick with urgency. Zoe whimpered at the loss but obeyed instantly, swaying on trembling legs. Before she could regain balance, his hand fisted in her hair—not cruel, but firm—and guided her down. “I’m going to come.” She sank to her knees on the boutique’s thin carpet, the silk dress pooling around her. Her eyes locked onto his erection, glistening with her wetness.
He gripped himself at the base. “Open,” he ordered. Zoe eagerly parted her lips, tongue already extended in anticipation. The first hot pulse hit her tongue—salty, primal. She moaned around him as he groaned above her, stroking himself fiercely. Zoe kept her mouth open, catching streams on her tongue, swallowing instinctively. Her eyes fluttered closed as warmth splashed into her mouth.
His hips jerked forward, pressing deeper against her lips as he emptied himself. Zoe swallowed again, her throat working. When the last shudder passed through him, she leaned forward, cleaning him with soft laps of her tongue. The silence was thick, broken only by their ragged breathing.
He buckled his belt while Zoe stayed kneeling, the silk dress pooled around her like spilled wine. She looked up at him, lips glistening, eyes dark and satisfied. “Happy birthday to your girlfriend,” she murmured, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face.
