Yes, but again you are interrupted!

"So… I wanted to ask you about Trent" you begin, but before Justin can respond, Jamal’s voice cuts in from ahead.

“Ey dudes, here’s the next shop!” he calls out with excitement.

You glance at Justin. “Never mind…” you murmur, and the two of you pick up your pace to catch up with Jamal.

In front of you stands a boutique unlike the others you’ve seen so far. The storefront is sleek, modern, its dark glass doors wide open, inviting you inside. Through the entrance you glimpse mannequins dressed in bold, skin-tight outfits, glossy leggings, shimmering spandex, and second-skin shorts that leave little to the imagination. The faint hum of music with a deep bass beat floats through the air, mingling with the subtle scent of new fabric and designer cologne.

Justin tells you that the boutique is known for its daring styles and sleek, form-fitting fabrics and Sarah and him go here from time to time to get some new stuff. You don’t realize it, but Jamal had promised his black homies he’d get pictures of you in spandex and nylon pants, the kind that hug every curve and make butts look impossibly thick and perfect.

As you step through the softly lit space, the racks glitter with rows of shimmering leggings, silky shorts, and compression wear in every imaginable shade. The lighting is warm, spotlighting the glossy fabrics so they practically glow.

Jamal’s eyes light up instantly. “This is where the real fun begins,” he says with a wide grin. He leans close to Justin, whispering with a decisive nod: “Grab a bunch of these, the more form-fitting the better. Even if we don’t buy them all today, I promised pics for the boys.”

You don’t hear or see this exchange. Your own eyes are fixed uneasily on the racks. The fabrics don’t look like your style at all. Sure, the booty shorts you bought earlier were already revealing, but at least they looked like clothes. These, though, these look like nothing more than stretchy fabric meant to expose everything.

Still, Jamal brought you here, and you’ve been trying to push yourself, to feel more comfortable in your own skin. Maybe you should at least give them a try.

Justin silently nods to Jamal’s order, though you notice the slight tension in his jaw. He pulls pairs from the racks, spandex, nylon, compression wear, his fingers lingering on the slippery fabrics. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his movements, but he never questions Jamal’s directions.

“Emile,” Jamal says warmly, guiding you toward the fitting rooms, “try these on.” He hands you a pair of light-blue compression pants. “They’re different, sure, but that booty of yours deserves to be shown off proudly. Plus, these are mostly gym wear, so you’ll have sports gear when I set you up with Ty.”

Your fingers tremble slightly as you close the fitting room door behind you. Sliding into the first pair is a struggle, the fabric clings like a second skin, tightening around your calves, then your thighs, then finally up around your hips. The snug compression squeezes you firmly, making every curve of your lower body stand out.

You turn toward the mirror. It’s a strange feeling, to be so exposed, yet what you see in your reflection is undeniably striking.

“All right, let’s see ’em!” Jamal calls, anticipation clear in his voice.

You step out. The pants cling to every contour, the waistband sitting just below your hip bones, the fabric sculpting your thighs and outlining your round ass so clearly it makes your cheeks look carved.

“Wow, Emile…” Jamal says, a slow grin spreading across his face. His gaze is locked on you, intense, almost predatory. “Not bad, huh? Look at you, like you belong on a billboard.” His tone is warm, encouraging, but with an undertone of authority that makes you feel compelled to believe him. “I knew you had it in you to rock something this bold.”

“You really think I could wear something like this?” you ask, eyes flicking between him and your own reflection. “It feels like they hide literally nothing at all…” The fabric clings so tightly that even the individual curves of your cheeks are outlined.

“Oh, little guy, this is literal perfection. These pants were made for you,” Jamal insists with a wide smile. “Plus, you’ll make everyone at the gym jealous.” He laughs, and the sound eases your nerves just a little.

“Hmm… yeah, I don’t know. I guess you’re right. I just… I feel so exposed…” you murmur, placing your hands over your crotch. It’s pointless, there’s nothing visible there anyway.

On Jamal, the bulge would have been enormous, obscene even. But on you, though, there is nothing visible that you would need to hide, since your size is that small.

“Come on, don’t overthink it,” Jamal reassures you. “You look incredible in those. Turn around for me, I wanna see something.”

You obey, presenting him with your tightly wrapped backside. Jamal’s phone slides out in an instant, and he quietly snaps a photo of your bubble butt in these pants.

“Maybe bend over a bit, see if they still feel good,” he suggests casually, though his smirk betrays him. But since you are looking toward the stall, you don't see the hunger in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah, sure. That’s a good idea.” You bend forward slowly, feeling the spandex stretch across your ass until it feels like your cheeks are sculpted in high definition.

“Yeah, looks like the fabric holds perfectly,” Jamal mutters, snapping a few more photos from the angle he wanted, each one capturing your curves with hungry precision. His eyes darken as his self-control strains. He sends the best of both angles into the group chat, which promptly explodes in lewd messages. Jamal just smiles at them.

“How do they feel? Still good?” he asks as you straighten.

“Yeah… they’re actually really soft,” you admit, brushing your hand over the snug material.

Satisfied, Jamal grins. “But let’s try another pair. Maybe you’ll like those even more.”

As you get back into the stall, Jamal looks at the messages in the group chat.

<some of the messages>

[Homies]

Jamal: Send a pictures

Jason: Are you fucking kidding me?????

Jason: you really got him to wear that shit?

Trent: fuck look at that white ass, begging for a good pounding by a black cock

Dior: DAMN this pussy looks even rounder and thicker in those pants

Ash: dude this is crazy, that whity got too much cake for his own good

Jamal: hes a natural, follows every command

Jason: tell him to suck that dick next and see if he follows that too xD

Trent: hes such a slut in the making, he would probably do that

Dior: god I need Ty to get pants like this, his locked clit would surely be visible all the time in those

Jason: Maria in those pants would make me feral

Ash: okay thats maybe a bit much, but I understand the sentiment

Trent: bro if you get a partner you will understand what he means

Trent: when I tell S and J to both wear that stuff and twerk on that dick at the same time I have to hold myself back not to rip their pussys appart

Ash: if you say so bro

<...>