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Rex Stevenson’s guard service had an assignment to patrol inside a leading department store downtown at night. It wasn’t long before he ran into an interesting situation.
On the third night of this assignment, they were walking through the third floor, near the womens clothing department. “Who’s there?” Rex said, flashing his light into the area of the dressing rooms. There was no reply. “Come out, with your hands up, or I’ll release my attack dog. You have five seconds!”
“We’re coming out,” a female voice answered. “Keep your dog back.”
Then a couple of the best-looking young women Rex had seen in a long time came slowly walking out of one of the dressing rooms, their hands in the air.
One was a black-haired, dark-eyed beauty, with a figure that would knock your eyes out. She was about twenty-four, a petite little thing, but with a pair of tits that would flatter an amazon. Well, almost an amazon. But they were enormous for a girl her size.
She had a beautiful face–pert little upturned nose, soft, full lips, and a perfect figure. Trim waist; nice, round ass and thighs; shapely, well-contoured legs. Her hair hung around her shoulders and framed the creamy-smooth skin of her face.
Rex was able to discern all this quickly because … the girl’s clothes were in disarray and a good bit of her body was revealed. Her blouse was open most of the way, and it was obvious that she wore no bra. It looked like she had pulled her skirt back on in a big hurry. Her hair was mussed, and her lipstick was badly smeared.
The other girl, although very good-looking, seemed somehow a little more hard and callous. She didn’t have the sweet innocence of Claire, nor the softness around her face. There was a sharp anger in her glaring eyes. Her figure wasn’t bad, either, except not quite as nice as Claire’s. She was a little more trim, not quite so curvy, and her tits were nowhere near as big. But she had a face that could have made her a movie star.
But Rex felt something was funny here. At first, he thought they might be stealing clothes.
Rex went to inspect the dressing room that Claire and Rita had been in. It was much bigger than the normal dressing room, and he guessed that it might be used by two people normally–like a mother and daughter–when they were shopping together. There was nothing in the room except the usual hooks on the wall, and a small shelf and a built-in seat.
Rex flashed his light around the room and over the carpet. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual. No stolen clothes. Nothing. Then he spotted something dark on the rug. He looked closer. There were three or four good-sized wet spots on the rug. He looked closer, and felt of them. They were sticky and damp. He smelled his fingers. And then he had the answer.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.