Han Xin blushed, tugging at the lace, unsure if he'd put them on correctly. The fabric felt impossibly fragile, and he worried he might rip it with a single wrong move. This is insane, he thought, but for him, it's worth it.
He took a moment to adjust the panties, smoothing the lace over his hips and ensuring the thin straps were in place. The sensation of the fabric against his skin was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was light, almost nonexistent, yet somehow intimate. He could feel every whisper of air, every brush of the lace against his thighs. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
Han Xin stepped back to the mirror, his reflection now transformed. The tight dress, the black tights, and the barely-there panties combined to create an image that was both foreign and captivating. He looked… sexy.
