Bottom Drawer

Cherie dropped her purse on the kitchen counter to flip through junk mail the postman had brought her. After deciding there were no redeeming advertisements in the bunch, she tossed them into the recycle bin and glanced at the answering machine. A red light flashed signifying she had been left a message. She let the machine play while she fixed herself a glass of iced tea. Her best friend Alexa's cherubic voice bubbled out, like a froth of foam from an uncorked champagne bottle

"Cherie, no excuses allowed this time! You will be dressed to kill by 8:00 pm and standing ready at your door for my arrival. We are going out with Lynn and Kimberly tonight for drinks. Good times and drunken flirting with gorgeous men will take place, and you will not be playing the part of the wallflower. Not tonight, anyway! I'll call you when I get to your apartment building, so be prepared!"

Cherie sighed after taking a long drink from her tea. Alexa was always goading her about how she didn't go out enough. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy having fun with her friends, sipping a cocktail or two. It was just...she always felt a bit faded in comparison to Alexa and her other friends. They were the type to dress in outfits that attracted men's' attention. Short skirts and form-fitting tops that hugged their bodies and invited a man to take long looks at them, from head to toe. Cherie wasn't a prude but she was reserved when it came to showing off her body. She had developed early as a teen, voluptuous hips and breasts that had even made her male teachers take a second look at her when she walked into class. As time went on, she dressed conservatively to avoid unwanted advances from undesirable men who thought just because she looked like someone who got around, assumed she actually "got around."

Briefly, Cherie looked down at her silk blouse and pin-striped skirt she had donned this morning before work. She didn't think her outfit would fit the definition of being dressed to kill. A quick walk to her closet and a perusal of her wardrobe found Cherie with nothing that could even be construed as sexy. Cherie stripped down to her sensible bra and white cotton briefs and stood in front of her full length mirror. Her bra separated and flattened her breasts. The cotton briefs were not meant to tantalize but to cover most of her lower torso. Cherie had a small revelation while studying her rather unflattering undergarments. No wonder she felt like a school marm next to her friends! Cherie's underwear didn't exactly bring up visions of a sultry temptress, did they? Cherie's thoughts strayed to the bottom drawer of her dresser. The drawer where clothes went that had been bought as gifts by friends and family because they usually didn't fit Cherie's round bottom or full hips.

On Cherie's last birthday, Alexa had given her a bra and pantie set as a gag gift, knowing Cherie's usual taste for bland underwear. The bra and matching thong were zebra striped with hot pink lace accents. Alexa had tried to bribe Cherie to wear them out to her birthday party with a bottle of Cherie's favorite wine, but Cherie had chickened out. Now the set lay in the drawer of well-intended but ill-fitting clothing. Cherie had never even tried the set on. An idea sprung into Cherie's mind...she may not have a sexy outfit to wear but she did have the lingerie waiting for her in the bottom drawer. She slipped out of her underclothes and reached into the dresser drawer. The long forgotten brassiere appeared first followed by the bare wisp of fabric that constructed the thong. Stepping into the panties, she pulled the them up onto her hips, shocked by the feeling of the smooth thong fitting so intimately against her most sensitive of areas. The plump belly she usually tried to minimize curved sweetly along the lace rim of her panties. The bra came next and after fastening the last hook, Cherie was surprised to see her breasts barely contained by the cups. Though she felt secure that everything would stay where it needed to be, it appeared as if her breasts were ready to spill out over the pink lace. Cherie felt a spark inside of her, a wicked little jolt that went from the back of her neck to the base of her spine.

Turning around in the mirror, Cherie reveled in the reflection of the provocative woman staring back at her. She began to have mental images of being caressed by strong hands and having the risque lingerie peeled off her luscious curves. Cherie ran her hands over her breasts, the tips of her nipples straining through the thin fabric. Traveling downward, her hands glided across her soft stomach, finally stopping at the apex of her thighs. Feeling a bit warm, Cherie came back to reality and realized she had fifteen minutes to get ready before Alexa showed up. Smiling at herself in the mirror, Cherie felt she could wear anything on top of this little number and still feel seductive. Cherie giggled and knew she would give Alexa a run for her money in the flirting department tonight.