Heading for the privacy of the restroom, you need to gather your thoughts. The swish of your tight skirt high on your thighs is unsettling. Though not nearly as much as the wobble at your ankles as you realise how high your heels are, and how easily you were managing them when you weren't aware.
Thankfully a bank of sinks are nearby allowing you to steady yourself.
They gave a certain shimmy to your ass, that accentuated your every step. The constant bobbling of your cleavage was proudly displayed, too.
A thick lock of hair fell from your shoulder the hank threatening to drift into your cleavage and tickle it constantly. The rest cascaded down your spine, the excess brushing your too succulent ass cheeks that peeked out from the hem of the slightly too short skirt.
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