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the bass from the club is vibrating through the bathroom floor.

the neon lights are buzzing.

it's just the two of you in front of the massive mirror.

the air is thick with the smell of hairspray, sweat, and expensive perfume.

you feel so small next to her. so utterly outclassed.

she turns to you, pulling a glossy fenty tube from her tiny little clutch.

she steps directly into your personal space.

"hold still, babe…" she murmurs.

her soft, manicured fingers gently grab your chin, tilting your head up.

the intimacy of it makes your knees go weak. you're completely frozen.

she carefully swipes the sticky, sweet-tasting gloss across your bottom lip, then your top.

she presses her thumb to the corner of your mouth to clean the edge.

she steps back to admire her work.

but her eyes trail down. past your chest. down to the waistband of your jeans.

you bent over earlier, and you know exactly what is showing.

the delicate, scalloped edge of your pink lace thong.

she doesn't gasp. she doesn't laugh.

she just smiles this warm, totally accepting little smile.

"omg… wait…" she purrs, leaning her hip against the sink.

"those panties are sooo fucking cute on you btw…"

your male ego completely flatlines.

"liiiike, where did you even get them? the lace is giving pure angel energy… they look sooo tiny, do they even hold your little situation in?"

she winks at you.

she sees the sissy lingerie. and she thinks it's cute.

you are officially one of her girlfriends.

it's giving… bathroom touch-ups, exposed lace, permanent girlie pop. 💋🪞