Getting Ready

I leaned forward across the counter as I gave my face a closer inspection in the mirror. I noticed a few stray hairs amongst my gently arched eyebrows, and pulled the tweezers from the drawer to pluck them, "'Cause he's really gonna look at your eyebrows." I thought to myself. I ran my index finger across my cheekbone, and then massaged my temple gently. "Gotta get more sleep girl." I chided myself, "You can't hide those bags forever". I ran my hand through my hair and tipped my head up inspecting my chin and jawbone "I thought you were supposed to stop worrying about breakouts by 23." Although for once my skin was behaving itself very well. No noticeable blemishes and that ruddy red undertone "peaches and cream my ass." was nowhere near as noticeable as it had been before. The last traces of tan were fading from my face and the freckles sprinkled across my nose were just barely noticeable.

I pushed myself back from the counter, pulled my shirt over my head, and chucked it to the floor. I took a step back and turned sideways sucking my stomach in "Like that little pooch is gonna make you look fat … Besides weren't you once told that it was sexy." I shook my head and sighed, would he ever stop haunting my thoughts. I unhooked my bra, slipped it from my shoulders, and added that to the shirt on the floor. I held my milky white, full, perfectly rounded breasts in my hands. They sat high and incredibly perky for being 36DD "At least those are better than his memory." I laughed to myself. I ran my fingers across my small pink nipples and they puckered just a bit more. I slid my hands down, pulled off my jeans and cotton panties, and chucked them in the pile on the floor. I grabbed my brush and gave one last run through my waist length blonde hair. I stepped on the scale 135. "Well it's not 115 but then you're not 16 anymore either… and thank god its not still 175… he thought you were sexy then too though, remember?" I stepped off the scale and slid the shower door open.

Hot steam rolled out and I reached in to add cold water to the hot I had been running. After running my hand through the stream, I stepped in and turned around. I always loved the feel of hot water in my hair. I tipped my head up and let the water run through my hair wetting it then turned around and wet the rest of my body. I grabbed the shampoo and let my mind wander. "7 years… 7 years of friendship, a wild intense friendship where we told each other our deepest secrets. 7 years of scattered indiscretions, that halted that friendship for months at a time. 7 years of social gatherings and rediscovering each other. 7 years of amazingly intense late night phone calls. 7 years of drunken confessions ... And finally tonight we were going on our first date."

After washing and conditioning my hair and washing my face, I washed my body. I squeezed the sweet, fruity, smelling body was onto the loofah and worked up a rich lather. I ran the loofah along my arms, underarms, down my sides, across my stomach, around my breasts, over my back, between my legs and then down them to my feet. After I had covered myself in a rich later I rinsed out and hung up the loofah. As I ran my hands across my breasts, I thought about that time when we were 18 on tour with band. "We had slipped off during a competition and found a quiet spot between two bungalow classrooms, barley wide enough for the both of us and only open on one side. We had hooked up before off and on, but I think this moment colored our sexual development more than anything, with anyone, else ever had. We started making out squeezed against each other pressed up against the walls. After kissing hungrily for a while, and running our hands along each other's bodies, he whispered in my ear "suck my dick.", I remember thinking that he does remember what I say, as I slid to my knees. I undid his pants pulled his dick out and … well sucked his dick.

He came in my mouth, I swallowed and looked up at him "I love sucking dick.", and I smiled biting my lip slightly. (I chuckled to myself as I remember him telling me, when we were 21, that this memory was one of the best fodder for masturbation that he ever had.) I stood up, we kissed more, he zipped up and then started to undo my jeans, and he pulled them down, with my undies, (I can still remember exactly what I was wearing. Black bra, 34C then, white wife-beater tank, cropped short, turquoise silky bikini panties, and low rise, hip hugger, Mudd, bell bottom jeans … size 5.) He went down on one knee and ate me out, using his fingers and his tongue together to make me moan. The moment he slipped his pinkie into my ass … I went over the edge squealing and moaning in orgasm, my knees almost went out from under me and he pressed me against the wall and himself to keep me from falling.

(I know for myself that opened me even more sexually, not only to anal but also to a willingness to try anything because you never know what you are going to love. I know from another confession he made to me at 21 that it influenced him even more. I remember his exact words "My girlfriend thinks it's all the porn, but your reaction the moment I stuck my pinkie in your ass, is the reason I love the butt.")" I sighed and chuckled to myself as I wondered if that had in fact been the understatement of the year.

As I reminisced, I let my hands slide across my body pulling on my already hard nipples, sending little jolts of electricity to my pussy. Making small circles around my breasts with my fingertips. Sliding my hand down across my stomach between my legs. Running my fingers first across the slit several times and then, pressing my index finger against my clit. Catching the little nub just under my long fingernail, rolling my finger around it, leaning against the wall, as I spread my legs further and slipped first one then two fingers in my pussy. I slid them in and out, then around and then in a come-hither gesture against the front wall. I pulled my hand back out and sat down, spread my legs, and slid three fingers into my pussy. Stretching them out, and then twirling them around loving the sensations. I then slid the third finger out and began to thrust my two fingers in and out a bit, before I slid, one and then two fingers into my ass. I worked up a bit of a rhythm, pressing in and out more pressure then less, faster then slower, harder and then softer, I then pressed my thumb against my clit and came hard. I removed my hands from my holes, and stood up to rinse the rest of the soap off.

I grabbed the shaving cream and my razor, and then I raised my leg and positioned my foot in the crack of the shower, even with my shoulder. "18 years of ballet should pay off every now and then…. god I'm glad to be healed. I couldn't stand not trusting my knee." I shaved my leg thoroughly, and then repeated the process with the other. I sat again and shaved the smattering of hair on my pussy into a small strip in the center. "I know he loves a bald pussy, but I'm just too sensitive skinned and those red bumps are not hot." I shaved my arms, and pits, rinsed everything one last time, and turned the water off. I reached out, grabbed a towel, wrapped my hair in it turban style and then dried my body with the other towel. I stepped out of the shower, hung up my towel and reached for the lotion. A nice vanilla smell to soften the fruity bath wash, I rubbed lotion onto my arms, my legs, everywhere. I then slipped into my black satin robe and started to do my hair.

I took the towel off, rubbing my hair in it before I hung it up. I put a large portion of mouse into my hand and flipped my hair over rubbing it into the roots. After 30 min of blow-drying and hair spraying strategically, my long blonde hair shone and lay straight with just a bit of "oomph" at the roots. I walked into my bedroom and went to the dresser, pulled out a small black satin thong, a black satin garter belt, nude stockings with back seams, and a black satin bra, with demi cups. I started to get dressed thong first then let the robe pool around me on the floor. I fastened the garter belt around my waist and walked to the bed stockings and bra in hand. I slid one leg into the stocking and fastened it to the garter, then did the same with the other. I never could resist running my hands along the silky feel of my legs encased in stockings. I felt my pussy get just that bit wetter as I made myself feel sexier. I then put the bra on my breasts nearly falling out of the small cups creating generous cleavage. I then walked to the closet and found my 5 inch heeled black patent pumps with the strap around the ankle. I walked back to the bed, slid my left foot into the shoe, and buckled the strap around my ankle. I repeated the process with the other foot and stood up. I admired my self in the mirror, in my just a pinch naughty lingerie. Breast pressed up and out to the full of their potential, the effect of the bra heightened by the tilt from the shoes. Small hint of black at my waist, round full ass lifted up by the heels, legs sparkling in the light, and those incredibly sexy shoes. I smiled at myself as I twirled in the mirror, and ran a hand across my ass, before walking back to the bathroom to paint my face.

I started with lotion and that magical stuff that fixes everything, and then put concealer under my eyes and over any hints of red displeasing my eye, and rubbed it in gently with my finger. Then came the perfectly matched foundation blending in with my skin and creating that illusion of perfection. The dash of powder with the big brush to seal everything. Black eyeliner to fame my blue eyes, sparkly white eyeshadow to the brow line, then a smoky gray over the whole of the lid. A deep purple along the lash line, and a sheer pink in the corner, the crease and under the eye. Black mascara to make my long lashes stand out even more, and my secret finish a quick swipe with a chunky white liner. Perfect. Then liner to my lips, a deep pinky red, covered with a matching lipstick and then a hint of gloss to make them sparkle. A quick bit of blush on the apples of my cheeks, my forehead, and my chin, and then a final covering of powder. I smiled at my reflection, sexy but clean, perfect. I spritzed a bit of a gentle perfume, kind of, like cherry jello on my wrists then ran my wrists against my neck behind my ears and in the crease of my breasts. Back to the bedroom.

I reached in the closet and pulled out that perfect little black dress. A trumpet skirt, cut to flare out when you spin, nipped in at the waist and darts at the bust, thin straps, but thick enough to cover the bra. I unzipped the back and stepped into the dress, zipped it up the back, and made sure everything was in place. Then put a black lace fringed shawl around my shoulders. As I stepped back for a final inspection, the bell rang, and I grabbed my little black evening back, and opened the door.

I hadn't seen him in almost a year, and had only talked to him a handful of times in that period. It was wonderful to see him again, so sexy, with his broad shoulders and small waist. He looked to have started working out again too, not that many would have noticed he had ever stopped. His hair still long, a lovely reddish blonde, coarsely cut and straight. He looked wonderful standing there in his black dress pants, with a tight black T-shirt tucked in, the silver buckle on his belt glinting in the light. His blue eyes slowly looked me up and down and a smile lit up his face. "You look incredible."

I could feel the blush in my cheeks as I snickered slightly and lowered my eyes, I never had learned to accept a compliment well, "Thanks.

\" I murmured as I pushed my hair behind my ear with two fingers. "You too." I said as I met his eyes again. I took a step out, and closed the door behind me, he put his arms around me and we hugged before he took my hand and led me to his car.

We chatted a bit about this and that as we walked through my complex to the street. "Oh my god you still have it," I said excitedly as I saw his white '67 Chevelle parked right in front.

"Yea." he shrugged, as he opened my door for me. I looked back and noticed he had a really smart looking black jacket hanging in the back seat. We spent the drive catching up on each other's lives, how was work, school, and all that. "So, you're dancing again?" He asked me.

"Yea, I'm taking like 5 classes a week right now, tap, jazz, ballet and Pointe at the performing arts annex, and a production class at Pierce."

"Wow, so you're back on Pointe that's cool."

"Yea, I want to choreograph this really cool piece to "Pour Some Sugar on Me" but I need like 12 girls, and there's not enough that are strong enough, to pull it off. But I am doing this solo to "Walk this Way" you have to come see the show it's gonna be really good."

"Sure, I haven't seen you dance since senior year."

"You were at the talent show? I didn't remember that."

"You were amazing."

I laughed "Thanks. I had fun."

We ate at this quiet little Italian restaurant and continued to talk about all sorts of this and that, mostly boring every day things. I had an incredible pasta dish in a white garlic sauce, he had chicken parmesana, it was all wonderful, especially the bread, and of course we had had several glasses of wine. After eating and chatting, he lead me next door to this little dance hall, I had no idea there were places like this left, not a club, but people dancing, like real social dancing, dressed beautifully, I grinned. "This is so cool, how did you find this place?" He just winked and shrugged. We got a table a wonderfully cushy red velvet booth, ordered drinks, he had a long island, I had a rum and coke, and then we got up and danced. He was an incredible dancer, he lead me across the floor in a rush of twists and twirls and intricate little steps. I had the time of my life. We danced several songs, went back to the table for water this time. I was impressed. He had learned his lesson. We sat and talked and laughed, danced a few more songs, and then escaped to the quiet patio for a smoke. I leaned against the wall catching my breath and finally asked him, "So, what is this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, all of this, is this is it, or what?"

"No," he shook his head slowly "I finally realized, that I want to be with you, for real, and I want to do it right…" he trailed off,

"Really?" I let a trace of the hope in my voice come through.

"I love you, Amanda."

"I know." I put my hand on his right cheek, and pressed my lips to his left "I love you, too." He put his arms around my waist and pulled me close. I slid my hands around his waist and we clung to each other, then he kissed me, deeply and passionately our tongues finding each other twisting and twirling in a dance of their own. I was heady from giddiness, and relief and a deep feeling of rightness started to enter my heart. We finally broke embrace and I leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. A giant grin had taken its place on my face, and his eyes gleamed. He took my hand and we walked back inside, the music had shifted to a slow pace, and we danced the gentle dance of lovers, the last dance.