Most of Ash’s clothes are plain enough, band-shirts, jeans and cargos, hoodies and a couple of long skirts. The idea of wearing them doesn’t particularly excite you, they simply look comfy.
But hidden away in the far back corner of her wardrobe is something entirely different. Kept in a transparent sleeve is some kind of uniform, a plaid skirt and button-up shirt. It wasn’t the uniform of your old school that’s for sure, the emblem on the shirt was unfamiliar, and the skirt was way too short. You guessed it might be cosplay, or at least the kind of outfit you’d find in the back of a sex-shop.
Your heart raced. Tearing the band-shirt over her head and pulling the immaculately ironed faux-uniform from it’s plastic sleeve, you tugged the shirt on quickly, and lifted the skirt up around your hips, naked underneath. Putting on her round glasses and looking again in the mirror you saw Ash’s freckled face blushing in excitement, practically panting, your cleavage strains against the low-cut shirt and the skirt flowed around your thighs. It was slutty for sure, and the way it seemed to cinch your body in all the right places.
Preparing to throw yourself onto the bed and start exploring her body more, the doorbell for the flat suddenly buzzed. Arousal became anxiety, you didn’t want some repairman or whoever to see your best friend... or see you, in such a compromising getup. You drape a blanket around your shoulders and over your body, planning to feign a cold and head to the front door.
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