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Earlier in the night, tantalized by the impassioned echoes from the neighboring room, I had stripped down. My skin felt every whisper of the room’s ambient temperature, sensitizing every nerve. Sleep was an elusive tease, dancing just out of reach. So, driven by a mix of restless energy and residual arousal, I decided to head to the hotel bar. But instead of dressing, in a bold whim, I simply threw on the hotel’s plush club robe, letting it be my sole shield against the world outside my room. The robe’s fabric was silky, hugging my curves and leaving just enough to imagination. No lingerie, no barriers; just me and the daring softness of the robe.
The hotel bar, with its subdued lighting and smooth jazz backdrop, felt both comforting and thrilling given my audacious attire. I settled on a barstool, ordering a glass of sultry red wine. As I savored my drink, my eyes caught those of a stranger, Alex, a few seats away. His lingering gaze made it clear that he could sense the mystery beneath my robe.
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