Have some fun in the change room

As I close the change room door behind me, I noticed it was much more elegant than the previous change rooms. The room was small but elegant, with a full-length mirror and a narrow, plush, overstuffed armchair.

I began removing my clothes again, more hurriedly this time. Anticipating the cold air to kiss my subtle skin. My fingers trembled slightly as I unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the floor. The air brushed against my bare skin, raising goosebumps. I slipped the lace bra on first, the fabric cups hugging my breasts perfectly, the delicate material teasing my nipples. As I hooked the bra closed, I felt my breasts get gently pushed together, I then smiled and adjusted them slightly to give off more cleavage, like I’ve seen woman do in movies. Then came the panties, the lace soft against my sensitive skin, tickled me as I pulled them up my thighs. I then turned to face the mirror; my breath lost at the sight of myself.

The dark red lace contrasted beautifully with my fair skin, the set accentuating my curves in all the right places. I look… incredible, I thought, my hand reaching up to trace the edge of the bra. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through me making me bite my lower lip, and my cheeks flushed once again.

Forgetting about the garter and without any thought, my hands began to trail down my body, my fingers brushing against the lace panties. Just a little, what’s the worst that could happen…, I thought, my heart pounding. I pressed my fingers against the fabric, feeling the warmth of arousal. It was intoxicating, the way my body now responded to touch, the way the soft lace seemed to amplify every sensation.

My breath hitched as I slid a hand beneath the panties, making their way through the thick mysterious thatch between my legs. Oh god, I thought, my head falling back as I teased myself, my fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, as a desperately yearned to learn the secrets of female pleasure. The lace rubbed against my sensitive skin; the sensation almost overwhelming.

I pressed my back against the cool mirror, my hips began rocking against my hand, further elevating this moment. My breath coming in short, silent, shallow gasps. The sounds of the mall faded away, leaving only the pounding of my heart and the wet, slick sounds of my fingers moving against my skin as I silently tried looking for release. I closed my eyes, lost in the sensation, the pleasure built with every touch. My other hand reached up to cup my breast, my thumb brushing against my nipple through the lace, the friction sending shivers down my spine.

“Abigail,” I whispered my mom’s name, her voice trembling with need. my fingers moved faster, as my lack of skill and technique fought against me, leaving my body trembling in the wake. The lace rubbed deliciously against my clit, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through my entire body. I bit her lip to stifle a moan, my hips bucking against my hand, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until—