I mean..yeah, obviously. This ain't the Clothed Besties Stories

Layla's breath hitched; she was going to do this, no doubt, but she still couldn't stop herself from feigning resistance. "Emi, there's an employee like twenty feet away—"

"Yeah," Emi leaned in close, close enough that Layla could smell her perfume, something floral and expensive that made her head swim just a little, "and she could come check on us at any time. So you better be quick. And quiet."

What Emi did NOT tell Layla was that the older woman was a friend of hers that she had met online, and who owed her several favors. She had been tipped off to the whole game about to be played today, and was more than on board. Her sleepy, unwelcoming demeanor was a product of her excitement keeping her up all night.

Layla began the nerve-racking work of disrobing, here in the cramped changing room, reflections on all sides. She just knew that when it came time, she would regret not wearing underwear. Sure enough, as she lowered the cargo pants, exposing her perfectly round and freckled ass, she was hit with a wave of embarrassment that nearly bowled her over.

She had to calm her breathing as she caught her reflection staring back at her, her ass on display in stereo. She finally let the pants fall to the ground and stepped out of them, revealing her stubble-covered pussy to the enclosed space. Without thinking, she ran her hand over her lower lips in a moment of blind muscle memory. That made Emi raise an eyebrow and grin even wider, loving the show.

Layla hooked her thumbs into the hem of her shirt and lifted the last article of clothing off her body. Her breasts sprang forward with a bounce that elicited a whistle from her bestie. Just another acknowledgement that made the latina's body and face heat up even further.

As she flung the shirt to the pile her pants were in, Layla couldn't help but take in her nude form, looking back at her in all three mirrors. Her nipples were erect, her pussy was wet, and her face was so red you would at a glance think she had heavy makeup on. At no point did her hands move to cover her body.

Emi knelt down and grabbed the handful of clothes and stuffed them into her purse, that devil's smile still playing at the corners of her lips. "I'm gonna pick out some... fun things for you to try on. Don't go anywhere. Oh, and the curtain stays open while I am gone, so ya don't try to welch on this."

Layla stopped herself from ushering another protest that she really didn't mean. She didn't even bother to try and snatch her clothes back; she just let it happen. But the second Emi was out of sight and the curtain was left open, she crossed her arms over her chest and cupped her exposed womanhood.

Fuck, why am I letting this happen to me?