Whistling a nameless song you stroll into the changing room, an assortment of skirts and shirts in your hand ready to be tried on. Still whistling you begin to undress, oblivious to the small hole in the wall and the eye peering through it.
As you undress you take a moment to look yourself over in the mirror. A smile starts to spread across your face as you examine you curves. Your hands following the outline of your body as you think to yourself, "Damn I look sexy. Men want me and women want to be me."
The eye continues to watch through the peephole, drinking in all of the sights.
You reach over and pick out a short little skirt to try on. Slowly you slide it on, wiggling your hips into it. A quick glance into the mirror confirms that the skirt fits, a bit short for public wear maybe, but only because of the accidents that would be caused by people staring as you sauntered past. The skirt is ...
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