Palace of dreams (#365daysofwriting)

There will be consequences, they warned him as he was granted access to the heavy-gated house of wonders. They told him he was not to try to get close to the beauties inside under any circumstances.
The place advertised itself as a museum of human perfection, but most of the gentlemen callers thought of it as a sort of very classy peep-show.
As he made his way inside, he wondered why would they bother to warn people not to get too close to the women. Perhaps that's not the right word, as they all seemed so young and innocent, they were only barely on the cusp of womanhood. An amazing array of exotic beauties, displaying their charms well-protected by glass walls, like precious jewelry at an exhibition. You could only watch, not touch.
The self-styled museum catered to every taste, with beauties of every imaginable shade or color - from the pale-skinned maiden of the north to the ebony goddess. Each had some feature that stood her apart - full lips the color of ripe cherries or eyes deeper than the sea. Few of them were actually naked, displaying impossibly long legs or the roundest breasts an artist would paint. Leave something to the imagination - after all this was not a place for something as common as sex. They sold dreams.
One girl was playing the piano, so absorbed in her music she took no notice of him. Another was busy combing her hair and she acknowledged him with a smile. A dark beauty was actually sleeping, naked, but tastefully wrapped in a silk veil.
The one that really made his heart skip a beat was braiding her long blonde hair with slow expert moves, watching herself in the mirror to make sure not even a strand was out of place. He could not even see her face, only her reflection, smiling at him, more with her eyes than with her lips. He put his hand on the glass wall as if to stroke her hair and at the slightest touch the invisible barrier gave way, not breaking, but curving just enough that he could almost feel her hair. Almost, as the barrier was still there, but thin enough for her golden locks to tickle the palm of his hands, sending shivers down his spine. The girl turned, looking him straight in the eyes and slowly put her full lips on his mouth.

That is all he remembered of the blonde fairy, for somewhere someone must have heard an alarm going off and they grabbed him by the arms and dragged him outside kicking and pleading. He didn't go away. How could he when she was so close?
He stood there, in front of the door that would never open for him again, careful not to bother anyone, though no one really saw him. The beauty exhibition has long moved to another city, but he is still there, a stone statue battered by rains and winds, soiled by impudent pigeons, guarding the place where he lost his heart.
There will be consequences.

This is my first story written for the #365daysofwriting challenge, hosted by @mydivathings! Thanks for reading!