James, A Victim to His Own Clothes

Sierra, silent, is scared beyond belief. She doesn’t believe her clothes want to cause her harm. However, they seem to be insistent on teasing her whether that be embarrassing her by flaunting her assets or teasing her sexually. During the walk she’d be played with periodically. If it was a nipple pinch or breast grope or it could be her thong playing with her clit. She couldn’t find the pattern but soon realized it was to keep her wet.

Her clothes stop and they stand her on the side of a strip in an alley.

“Please, is there anything I can do to let you leave me alone?”

She looks down and sees her clothes jiggle her breasts side to side replicating a no. Sighing Sierra accepts her fate. Looking at her clothes she notices that they begin to be getting annoyed, seemingly like someone was late. Tapping her boot dramatically and putting Sierra’s hands on her hips. Sierra begins to hear something snapping her attention from her impatient clothes. A man also pleading to his own clothes to be let go. He turns into the alleyway walking to Sierra and he stops a few feet in front of her.

“Are you the one making my clothes do this? I had a date with this hot girl and I-“

“I’m sorry? You think I want to be here? You don’t even look good. Who wears black sweatpants to a date? What are those? Old running sneakers? Even the red is beginning to fade. It barely has its colors which I guess makes up for your raggedy ass burgundy shirt? Trust me, your clothes saved you from embarrassment.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Kamryn definitely has fallen for me. You look like some wannabe pornstar. Like you wanted to be a model but you could never make it. You just wanted the attention no one ever gave you!”

“Oh you di-“

They both slapped themselves. Shocked by the event they both look down to their own clothes. **** their arms cross and their bodies shake side to side in disapproval. Looking up they realize their clothes were actually right.

“Hey uh. I’m sorry. You actually look pretty good. Your style is nice. Not many people I know can pull it off. The tan jacket isn’t super common.”

“Yeah, I'm sorry too. I get heated a little too fast. you don’t look too bad yourself. Your hair is nice. Black locks are beautiful.”

“Thanks. The name is James.”

Before Sierra could respond her clothes began to act. She feels her clothes start to shuffle. She stifles her moan as her bra and thong go at her again. This time with less at task her other clothes join in. She feels invisible hands caressing her thighs. Slowly and sensually overwhelming her with careful and delicate moves. A hand forms around her belly button tracing circles around to eventually circling the walls of it. Her head jerking from her hips bucking at the feeling of her ass being by her jeans, her eyes fall onto James. His arms are locked to stay near his side, not touching his side but as if steadying himself. His pants seem to have locked his body into a thrusting motion. Looking at his sweatpants closer she can see a tent formed which she can only imagine to be his surprisingly well endowed dick. At first Sierra was disgusted but she realized she got wet off of her own clothes. Meeting eyes they feel their clothes start to shift again.