The Fitting Room - Her Pov

The Fitting Room - Her Side of the Story

I turned toward the mirror, adjusting the dress and smoothing the fabric over my hips.

This might be the one.

I studied my reflection for a moment before calling out, "Come in and see."

I heard him sigh before he gathered up the shopping bags and walked over. He'd been patient--more patient than I expected--but I knew we had already pushed past the time he was willing to give to this.

It'll be quick,

I had promised. Yet here we were, deep into another round of trying on dresses for the wedding.

The door cracked open, and I caught his first reaction in the mirror--a brief moment of surprise before he masked it with his usual sarcasm. He dropped the bags, flopped onto the bench, and smirked.

"Well?" I asked, hands on my hips.

"Well, what?" He was playing with me.

I exhaled, already exhausted from the day. "Please stop playing. How does this one look?"

I expected another flippant remark, something to make me roll my eyes. But then he just said it--honest, straightforward. "You look good."

His voice was different. The weight of his words made my stomach flip. When I turned to look at him, I saw something unfamiliar in his expression. He had never looked at me like that before. Or maybe he had, and I just hadn't noticed.

"I don't know," I said, turning back to the mirror, pretending like my heart wasn't racing. "I have a few more to try on. Thank you so much for coming with me."

"Don't mention it," he shot back, his usual sarcasm returning as he stood up.

I watched him head toward the door and frowned. "Where are you going?"

"Back outside. You said you had more to try on."

I smirked. "Boy, sit down. You shy?"

He sucked his teeth but sat back down, arms folded across his chest.

I turned back to the mirror and reached for the zipper, shimming out of the dress. He had seen me in a bathing suit before, so technically, there was nothing new here. But something about this moment felt... different. As if there was suddenly more between us than just years of friendship.

I didn't have to look to know he was watching. I could

feel

it. The weight of his gaze traced my body as I reached for the next dress. My skin tingled under his eyes.

"What?" I asked, turning just enough to catch his reflection.

He blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts he had slipped into. "What? Nothing. Hurry up."

I smirked.

Yeah, okay.

I slipped the next dress over my head, letting the fabric settle against my skin. As I adjusted the straps, I could still feel his eyes on me. He was watching--not just casually, but

really

watching.

This went on for three more changes. Each time, I'd model the dress, then strip down to my bra and panties before stepping into the next one. I pretended not to notice how his gaze lingered, how he took in every movement, every shift of fabric against my body.

By the time I reached the last dress, I could sense his restraint cracking.

"Can you zip me up?" I asked, lifting my ponytail and tilting my head forward.

I heard him shift on the bench before he stood. I expected him to move quickly, zip me up and step back. But instead, he hesitated. I caught our reflection in the mirror--him standing just behind me, his fingers grazing the zipper, his expression unreadable.

And then he let it fall.

I turned my head slightly. "Are you teasing me?"

He stepped in closer, his breath warm against my skin. My heart pounded.

"You heard me," he murmured, his voice lower, deeper than usual. "Why are you teasing

me

?"

I turned to face him fully, closing the space between us. My breasts brushed against his chest as I met his eyes.

God, when did it get so hot in here?

"How am I teasing you?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Don't play dumb. You dressing and undressing in front of me. Bending over, your titties hanging out in the mirror. Your ass all in my face for me to kiss or bite on. What're you doing?"

A slow smile spread across my lips. "I didn't think you noticed."

His hands found the small of my back, pulling me closer. "How could I

not

notice a beautiful woman half-naked in front of me?"

I felt a shiver run through me. I had known him forever, and yet, in this moment, it felt like I was seeing him for the first time. Or maybe I was finally letting myself

really

see him.

"Awww," I teased, my voice light, though my pulse was racing. "You think I'm beautiful?"

His grip on my waist tightened slightly. "You know you are. Stop it."

The air between us shifted, thick with something unspoken. Neither of us moved, but neither of us pulled away, either.

And then, before I could overthink it, I asked, "Well?"

He smiled a little wider before leaning in, pressing his lips against mine.

The kiss sent a spark through me--warm, deep, and

real.

For a second, he hesitated, pulling back just enough to search my face. Maybe he was checking for doubt, for hesitation. But I didn't give him a chance to second-guess it. I reached up and kissed him again, deeper this time.

His arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against him. I felt his hands explore, gripping, pressing, learning my body in ways he never had before. I tangled my fingers in his beard, tilting my head to taste him fully.

My heart pounded in my ears as I took a step back, letting the dress slip from my shoulders and fall to the floor. His eyes darkened as he took me in.

He didn't say a word. He didn't have to.

I pressed myself against him, kissing him again, my hands tracing the muscles under his shirt. His fingers gripped my waist, his thumbs sliding beneath the band of my panties, pressing into the soft curve of my hips.

I let out a soft moan against his lips.

The world outside this fitting room faded. There were no store clerks, no other shoppers--just the heat building between us, the weight of this moment pressing down, years of unspoken tension unraveling in his touch.

I moved my hands to his chest, pushing him gently back toward the bench. He let me guide him, sitting down as I straddled him. I felt his hard length pressing against my inner thigh, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me.

His hands roamed my back, my waist, my thighs. Everywhere.

I rocked against him, letting myself feel every inch of him.

And then I stopped.

Breathless, I leaned back slightly and met his eyes.

"I want you." My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew he heard me.

He held my gaze as I stood up, slipping my panties down my legs. I felt his eyes devour me, the heat between us growing unbearable.

He didn't waste a second. His pants were off in an instant, his hard length freed from his boxers. I bit my lip, taking in the sight of him.

For a moment, we just stared at each other.

Are we really doing this?

The answer was clear.

I stepped forward, climbing back onto his lap. His hands found my hips as I reached down between us, guiding him to my entrance.

I gasped as he entered me, the stretch sending a shiver through my body.

We sat still, holding each other, breathing each other in. My body pulsed around him, my head spinning at the sensation. I clenched my fists around his shirt, anchoring myself as I let the pleasure settle over me.

He whispered my name, his hands gripping my waist.

I opened my eyes, meeting his.

And then I moved.

I rolled my hips slowly at first, savoring the way he filled me, the way he stretched me in just the right way. His hands tightened on my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as he fought for control. I could feel his restraint, the tension in his muscles as he let me set the pace.

The pleasure built steadily, deep and consuming, spreading through my body like a slow burn. I braced one hand against the wall behind him, using it for leverage as I moved faster. His lips found my neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin, and I shuddered, my fingers tightening in his hair.

"Oh my god," I breathed, the pleasure intensifying with each thrust.

His hands slid up my back, one curling around the nape of my neck, the other gripping my ass as he guided me, matching my movements with his own. I could feel how much he wanted me, how much he was holding back, and it only made me want him more.

My moans grew louder, my body trembling as I rode the edge of release.

"Shit," I gasped, pressing my forehead against his. "You're gonna make me cum."

His grip on me tightened, his thrusts meeting mine in perfect rhythm. My body tensed, the pressure inside me winding tighter and tighter until--

I shattered.

A cry escaped my lips as I came, waves of pleasure crashing over me. I pressed my body against his, muffling my moans against his neck as I trembled in his arms.

But he wasn't done with me yet.

Before I could catch my breath, he gripped my thighs and stood, turning to press me against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as he drove into me.

This wasn't slow anymore. This was raw, urgent, desperate.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the small fitting room. My nails raked down his back as he fucked me with deep, deliberate thrusts, hitting all the right places, pulling me toward another climax before I even had time to recover from the first.

I couldn't hold back the sounds he was forcing from me.

"Please," I whimpered, my voice breaking on the word. I didn't even know what I was begging for--I just knew I didn't want him to stop.

He groaned against my ear, his rhythm faltering. I felt him twitch inside me, his breathing ragged as he fought to hold on. But the way my body clenched around him was too much.

"Fuck," he growled, his hands tightening on my hips as he gave one final thrust. I felt him spill inside me, his body shuddering against mine as he let go completely.

We stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, breathing hard.

His lips brushed against my neck, soft now, almost tender. His hands roamed my back, as if memorizing the feel of me.

Finally, he set me down, steadying me when my legs nearly gave out. I leaned against the wall, my chest rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath.

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "You okay?"

I laughed breathlessly, running a hand through my hair. "I am now. I've been wanting this for a while but didn't know how to say it." I met his eyes, my voice lowering. "It was worth the wait... but I want more. Take me home?"

He grinned. "My pleasure."

We dressed in silence, stealing glances at each other, our bodies still humming from what just happened. I watched him in the mirror as he adjusted his shirt, pretending like we hadn't just crossed a line we could never uncross. But the way his eyes lingered on me, the way he smirked when I caught him staring, told me he wasn't regretting a damn thing.

Neither was I.

I reached for my ponytail, redoing it as I picked up one of the dresses I'd tried on. "I think I want this one." I turned to face him, giving a little spin. "How do I look in it?"

He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Amazing, but you really about to stand in line after this?"

I smirked. "What? You embarrassed?"

He scoffed. "Not in the least, but when this kinda shit happens on TV, people leave quietly and immediately. They don't hang around shopping like nothing happened."

I sucked my teeth, waving him off. "Decency be damned. I need this dress, and I'm not coming back to get it."

I watched him hesitate for half a second before I dropped the next bombshell. "You coming to this wedding with me?"

His head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing. "I thought you already had a date." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was something else there, something that made my stomach flip.

I shrugged. "I don't want to go with him. I want to go with you. But I'll go with him if that's what you want."

For the first time since this whole thing started, the teasing faded. He looked at me, really looked at me, and the weight of everything we weren't saying settled between us.

Finally, he exhaled and shook his head. "I'll go anywhere you want me to. You know that."

I grinned, stepping closer. "Yeah? That's what you better had said." I kissed him, soft but lingering, letting him know this wasn't just some heat-of-the-moment thing for me.

We grabbed my things and walked out of the fitting room, ignoring the curious glances from the other shoppers. The knowing smirks from the cashier. He carried my bags like always, but this time, when I hooked my arm through his, it wasn't just as a friend.

And we both knew it.