I was taken advantage of at the clothing store.

I was tricked in a clothing store. I'm twenty years old and work as a sales clerk in a trendy clothing store.
Our merchandise is expensive, not only because of the high-quality materials and designs, but also because we claim to be the most professional clothing store in town, winning customers with our service attitude. Every employee needs to undergo two weeks of training to provide attentive service to customers with the most friendly and welcoming attitude.
My store is in an upscale shopping mall, and compared to other stores, we have longer opening hours and close later in the evening. So, usually when I leave, the mall is already empty.
Like today, when I put up the "Closed" sign, the other shops in the mall were already dark. Another girl in the store had to leave early, so I was responsible for closing the store. After hanging up the sign, I went into the fitting room, took off my uniform, and prepared to change into my own skirt and V-neck vest. To provide customers with an ideal fitting space, the store's fitting room is designed to be particularly spacious, like a private room, with long sofas and soft music, making it very comfortable.
After taking off my uniform, I saw myself in the mirror wearing pink underwear, looking sexy and alluring. I'm not very tall, probably around 160cm, with a shapely figure, firm breasts, and a youthful glow… Just as I was admiring my figure, the doorbell rang, and someone tried to push the door open. I quickly put on a skirt and vest, and ran barefoot outside. Standing outside was a tall young man in his twenties, dressed in a shirt, trousers, and carrying a briefcase—a typical office worker. He was soaked from head to toe, as if he had just stepped out of a shower.
“Sir, I’m sorry, we’re closed.”
“Miss, it’s raining heavily outside, and I’m in a hurry to a banquet. I need to buy some clothes to change into. Please, I’ll choose something quickly, please.”
“Well…” Seeing his pitiful state, and considering he was quite handsome, I agreed: “Okay, come in.”
“Thank you!”
After he entered the store, I gave him a towel to dry his hair. He quickly chose a few clothes and jeans, and I led him to the fitting room to try them on. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but as I walked, I felt burning gazes on my legs beneath my short skirt. In front of the changing room, I professionally asked, "Sir, is there anything else you need?" He said, "Um...do you sell men's underwear? My clothes are all wet." I politely replied, "I'm sorry, we don't sell underwear." He thanked me and closed the door.
I patiently waited outside for him to come out.
However, ten minutes passed without a sound.
I gently knocked on the door: "Sir, does the clothing fit?"
He seemed a little hesitant: "I'm sorry, this clothing...I've run into a little trouble..."
I said kindly, "Sir, please come out, let me help you."
He said, "Um...it's not very convenient...my clothes are stuck, can you come in?"
I said, "Sure." Then I pushed the door open and entered.
The customer was wearing a fitted short-sleeved t-shirt that accentuated his muscular physique, paired with straight-leg jeans—very stylish.
“Sir, is there a problem?”
He said apologetically, “I’m sorry… the zipper on my pants… is stuck… I can’t fix it…”
I blushed slightly, but out of professional spirit, I could only squat down to check the problem for him.
Sure enough, the zipper was about two inches short of the top. I tried to pull the zipper up, but it wouldn’t budge.
In the process, I had to be as careful as possible not to touch his body, but I still couldn’t help but press on his crotch, feeling the gradually rising male body below. My heart started to pound, but I kept telling myself that this was a professional job.
I looked up and found him staring down at me, and only then did I realize that most of my chest was exposed under my V-neck tank top.
I stood up, my face flushed with embarrassment: “Sir, please take your pants off in a moment, and I’ll get you another pair.”
Then I turned to leave. He suddenly grabbed my hand from behind and pressed it against his hard crotch: "Miss, this zipper is broken, how do you fix it?" "How should I know..." Before I could finish speaking, he had already pulled down the zipper, and a magnificent, enormous thing burst forth! It turned out he wasn't wearing underwear!
"You...what do you want?" I was almost speechless with fright at this behemoth.
"Your hand was touching it all over, making me very itchy. Is this how you harass male customers?"
He said, moving closer. I backed away, tripping over the sofa and falling down.
"I didn't harass you! You said you had a problem and needed my help!"
"I have many more problems I need your help with!" He leered, then sat on the sofa and pulled me into his arms.
"No!" I struggled desperately, but couldn't break free from his embrace.
He sat on the sofa, facing my back, and gripped my wrists tightly with his left hand. I sprawled on him, facing the mirror. He breathed into my ear, making me go limp.
His right hand climbed up my body, lifted my vest, and slipped under my bra to caress my breasts while kissing my earlobe. He got carried away and pulled the bra up, revealing my two round, fleshy mounds. I had never seen myself being caressed in front of a mirror before, and with the multiple stimulations, my nipples involuntarily hardened, and I was already slightly wet.
"How is it? My dear sister, does Bobo feel good?" In his hands, my breasts felt like white flour, allowing him to knead and flatten them. "Mmm..."
"Let me go..." I said softly.
"Do you really want me to let you go?" His teasing breath brushed against my ear again, leaving me powerless to resist. His hand slowly slid down from my breasts, like an ant searching a map on my body, around my waist, down to my abdomen, then down to my genitals. He slowly circled my vulva, and I, being very sensitive, immediately felt an electric shock, becoming even wetter involuntarily; but then his hand moved away, sliding down to my thighs, stroking my smooth skin.
"Don't be afraid, I'm very gentle," he whispered, biting my ear.
"Ah..." I couldn't help but moan when his hand returned to my vulva.
He spread his legs apart, and my legs, resting on his thighs, parted accordingly. In the mirror, I looked like a "big" character, my pink panties completely exposed, with a few pubic hairs peeking out from the sides.
His index finger, through the thin fabric, searched for my vulva, stroking it up and down. In the mirror, my panties showed a wet patch, completely revealing the shape of the slit.
"So wet already? How about this?" He slid his index finger down to the entrance, then slipped it into my vagina through the fabric. "Oh..." My nerves nearly snapped back.
Because the fabric had rolled into the opening with his fingers, my labia were almost completely exposed.
"Ah..." My vaginal fluids continued to seep out, soaking my panties even more.
"How is it? Not comfortable through the fabric, huh? Want to take your pants off?"
"I..." I couldn't speak. His fingers probed deeper, making me want it even more. "Okay..." I whispered.
"What? I can't hear you? What do you want?" He deliberately teased me.
"Take...take off your pants..."
"And then?"
"Use your fingers...to insert into your hole..."
He immediately ripped off my panties. Knowing I wouldn't resist anymore, he released his left hand and attacked my vulva with both hands.
For the first time in years, I saw my vulva being touched in front of a mirror.
His left hand continuously teased my clitoris, each touch sending waves of intense stimulation through me. His right index and middle fingers swirled around my opening, then thrust forcefully, producing soft, wet sounds.
"Ah! Ah!" My body went limp, savoring each wave of pleasure, growing hotter and hotter.
His thrusts intensified; my vagina was nearly bursting, and I writhed and twisted.
Suddenly, he stopped, pulled his fingers, now wet with my juices, and helped me stand up. He quickly pulled down his pants, his engorged penis standing erect.
"How about this? Want this?"
"Yes!" I couldn't resist any longer.
"What do you want?" He sat on the sofa, his enormous member rising like a flag.
"I want to insert it into my hole..."
"With what?"
"With your big cock, brother..."
"How? I don't know, what do you want me to do?"
My vagina was itching unbearably, like it was being bitten by ants. I could no longer care about my ladylike shyness. I climbed onto the sofa, aimed at his glans, and thrust down, sucking his penis tightly. He didn't hesitate either, immediately holding my waist and thrusting up and down, each thrust going all the way in. My breasts bounced with each movement. Our breathing became more and more rapid, and finally we reached orgasm together in a spasm.
From that day on, I often stayed in the shop on rainy nights, waiting for the next possible sexual adventure.

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I was taken advantage of at the clothing store.

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