Trying To Date A Seamstress

My phone rang. It was Mindy.

"Hey!"

"Hey."

"What's up?"

"Um. Listen. Hector. I'm really sorry, but it looks like I won't be able to go to the concert after all. I don't think my design project will be done."

"Oh, no! Can't you work on it tonight?"

"I'm going to. But there's still a lot to do. . . . I'm really sorry. I really wanted to go."

"Jeeminy. Look, is there anything I can do to help?"

"It's sweet of you to ask, but . . ."

"You'll need to eat, won't you?"

"Hmm?"

"Friday night. I know how those design projects go. One percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent sandwiches."

"I'll be all right."

"What do you like? Pastrami?"

"What about the concert?"

"Corned beef? Horseradish?"

"I'm vegetarian."

"Roasted peppers and provolone, then. Done."

"Carly's not doing anything Friday night."

"She can have the tickets, then."

"Don't you want to take her?"

"Can't. Busy."

"Hector!"

"Look, I know how these design projects go. Just leave the sandwiches to me, OK?"

---

Nothing lonelier than a classroom corridor on a Friday night. One light was on, way down the hall. One solitary student, sitting at a sewing machine, enveloped in billows of shimmery fabric. She raised the needle, loosened the foot, rotated the material, clamped it back down, and kept on sewing.

"Carly says thanks for the tickets," she said without looking up.

"Did she find anybody to go with?"

"Not the last I heard. Carly likes everything about going out on dates except for the guys."

She raised the foot, cut the thread, and pulled the fabric out of the machine.

"How's it going?" I asked.

"I re-sewed this seam so many times that I wore out the material. I had to re-sew it a size smaller. Carly was going to model it for me, but now it looks like I'll have to do it myself."

Couldn't hurt, I thought.

"My boobs are too small, though."

She gathered everything up and took it behind the changing screen.

After a minute she stepped back out wearing an elegant, shimmering, peach evening gown. It had a sleeveless, v-neck, pleated grecian top, a flat waist, and an ankle length columnar skirt. She looked herself up and down in the mirror, stood up on tiptoe, took a step this way and a step that way, fiddled with the top, pivoted, and looked back over her shoulder.

The gown was simple and quite attractive. But the material was way too sheer. It hid her top because of the pleating, but you could see her panties plain as day. There was a kind of frilly loin cloth in front that helped a little.

"Just don't say anything, OK?" she said. "The material didn't work out the way I thought."

She turned a couple more ways, then ruffled the loin cloth and sighed.

"I think it looks terrific," I said.

She looked over her shoulder one more time.

"Oh, man," she sighed, as if just remembering something.

"What's the matter?"

"I still have to buy panty hose."

"Hey," I said. "That's a job I bet I can handle. Do they have them at the Union?"

"Piggly Wiggly."

"Any special kind?"

"Nude," she said. "Medium."

I had the key to my roommate's bike. It was a pleasant night, a touch of Spring in the air. A night for riding no-handed. I looked down toward the Pavilion where the concert was going on.

I could probably build a robotic exoskeleton, but I could never make anything as pretty as an evening gown. Funny how a sewing machine and a drill press are so similar in some ways, and so different in others.

They had two kinds of panty hose at the Piggly Wiggly, control top and non control top. I took one of each to be on the safe side. But at the checkout counter, I didn't have enough cash. The checkout girl was amused by my predicament.

"Are you getting them for your mother or your girlfriend?" she asked me.

"Girlfriend," I replied.

She rang up the non control top and gave me a friendly smile.

Mindy was back at the sewing machine. She had waited for me to eat her sandwich.

"Seems like a big crowd at the concert."

"I hope Carly found somebody to go with."

"Making any progress?"

"Hard to say."

"Ever thought of switching to Civil Engineering?"

"Do they have design projects?"

"Sometime we get to use blow torches."

"Maybe that's what I need."

After the sandwiches, she tried on the gown with the panty hose. She'd removed the loin cloth, and the gown looked much better without it. Simpler, more elegant. But you could clearly see the silhouette of her legs. Even worse, the panty hose weren't exactly the same shade as her skin, and you could see the discontinuity around her middle. It was almost as glaring as the panties had been.

She reached up under the gown and peeled off the panty hose. That got rid of the discontinuity, but you could see that she was naked. You could see her pubic hair in front and her butt crack in back. Not enough dress, way too much girl. She suddenly remembered that she wasn't alone and hurried behind the changing screen.

"What I need is a body stocking," she said from behind the screen.

"Have you got one?"

"I'm trying to think. Maybe a dancer's leotard. Maybe even a one-piece swimsuit."

I knew a guy whose girlfriend was a dancer, but I couldn't reach him. I called his roommate. He gave me the girlfriend's dorm phone. The girl was out, and her roommate thought she mostly kept her dance things at the studio. But she knew someone on the swim team. I called her up. She lived in the same dorm as Mindy and Carly. And, she had a swim suit we could borrow.

Back on the bike. It was starting to get a little chilly. It was an all girls dorm, and at this time of night you had to wait in the lobby for them to come down. The swimmer was a muscular red head. The swim suit was white, but it had three bright red stars across the front. I had to laugh, imagining how the gown would look with those stars.

"Wild goose chase," I said, back in the sewing room.

"I'll just go with the panty hose," Mindy yawned. "I finished the top. I just need to try it on one more time."

She went behind the screen and came out in the gown. She looked at herself in the mirror from every different angle. The boobs were satisfactory. But your eye was still drawn to the glaring discontinuity across her middle.

"I look like a mannequin where they put the wrong top on the wrong bottom."

It was starting to feel very late, the way it does in the wee hours of a design project.

She stood there for almost a minute. I couldn't tell if she was lost in thought or just tired. But then she seemed to come up with something. "OK," she said. She rolled out the bolt of peach fabric and cut off two full yards. She held it up in front of herself, gathering it at the shoulder like a sari. She took a piece of chalk and made a couple of marks.

She went and changed back into her jeans and blouse. She turned the gown inside out and laid it over the cutting table. She wafted the new piece on top, adjusted, stretched, pinned, measured, held up, cut, re-adjusted, and pinned some more. It was like she was operating on a jelly fish. She took it back behind the screen.

"Hector?" she called.

She'd been half swallowed by the jelly fish, with only her arms and legs sticking out. "Can you help me pull it down gently so I don't pull out the pins?"

I tried to sort out the different layers. I couldn't avoid touching her panty hose. Her head emerged, and she wriggled the gown the rest of the way.

The inner panel crossed her chest like a tunic and then fell along the midline of her thigh, making the gown richer and less transparent. It hid the juncture between her legs, although you could still see the hem of the pantyhose along her side.

"We'll have to adjust the pins so that the weight hangs evenly," she said. "Can you undo this one for me?"

But the pins were on the underside.

"Johnny Bungle," she muttered. She hitched the gown up a bit and slid her arm out to let the left side of the bodice hang down. This gave me access to the pins, but it also uncovered her breast.

Her breast was beautiful, soft and round, just the size of my cupped hand. The nipple was pale and shy. She was embarrassed to have me see it. "Is there anything else I haven't gotten around to showing you yet?" she asked.

"I guess we could go over the checklist," I replied.

She showed me what to do with the pins. I was careful to avoid touching her breast. I had to reach down into the other side of the bodice too, which brought me right up against the other one as well. When she was satisfied with the pinning, she pulled the bodice back up and put her arm back through.

She was still somewhat embarrassed. "I'll have you know I don't usually let boys adjust my pins until at least the second date."

"No idea what you're talking about," I said. "I had my eyes closed the whole time."

I helped her lift the gown back off again without disrupting the pins. I got a brief glimpse of her naked chest before ducking around the screen to let her put her clothes on.

She cut and stitched along where we had pinned. She took a bite of sandwich. It was awfully late; but the end was in sight. She cut the back panel and stitched it into place.

"Well, come on," she said at last.

I went back behind the changing screen with her. She took off her jeans. Then she unbuttoned and took off her blouse, allowing me a full view of her breasts. The contrast of the panty hose was even more pronounced against her naked skin. She slid the them down over her hips. Her pubic hair was soft and translucent. She peeled off one leg, then the other. She took a self-conscious second to wad up the panty hose. Then she dropped her arms to her sides and looked at me.

"Well," she said, "there you go."

Her breasts weren't too small at all. They were gentle, but arousingly full and feminine. Her waist was narrow, her tummy taut, her hips voluptuous and caressable, her legs long and pleasingly turned. With her golden curls and her pale pink skin she looked like an angel come down to earth.

An angel with nipples that reddened as I watched. And a belly button. And the dusky silhouette of a vagina. And the earnest, vulnerable expression of someone who did not rule out the possibility that this meant more than she was letting on. She had been compelled to reveal her secrets prematurely, in the foxhole, but she was entrusting them to me nonetheless.

"It's a real nice start," I said.

She took up the jelly fish, and I helped glide its diaphanous tissues down over her nude body. We still had to be careful with the inner panels. Between us, we pulled them taut over her midriff, then straightened them below her waist. I stood back to take a look.

The effect was stunning. You now saw the gown instead of the legs. The color was fuller and more vibrant. The two inner panels overlapped to make an even richer swath along her right side, while a swath of hip and thigh was left revealed under only the single outer layer along her left. The fabric shimmered enticingly as she walked. If she had used a more opaque material to begin with, the gown would have been modest and sedate. With these different shimmering layers of transparency it was teasing and sexy.

"Man, oh man!" was all I could say.

She looked from the front, then from the side. She turned around and looked over her shoulder. "I guess it'll do."

She was able to take the gown off by herself, but I stood by to make sure the basting wasn't overstressed.

She was naked again. Bare, rather, bereft of her wings. And exhausted. I ached to put my arms around her. I wasn't sure whether I should stay while she dressed. I did, but I looked away.

She put the gown on a hangar. She collected her things. But there was something she couldn't find.

She sighed. "Carly and I left together. I must have forgotten to bring my key."

She tried her phone. No response. "Probably gotten herself handcuffed to some stranger again."

I was exhausted. "Don't worry. She'll drag him back to the dorm eventually."

She yawned. It was the bleary, tinny, bespotted, shivery butt fag end of the day.

"Listen," I said. "You can crash at my place if you want. My roommate went home for the weekend, so there's an empty bed."

I couldn't tell if she heard me or not.

"No telling when Carly will get back."

"Thanks, Hector. I'll be all right."

"Well, OK then."

"Thanks for your help."

"Night."

"Night."

I hated to leave her. I got about halfway to the door.

"Wait up," she called.

---

"You better take the bottom. My roommate isn't much for changing sheets."

"I'm so tired I could sleep on the floor."

"Do we need to set the alarm?"

"I'll get up."

Nothing more to say. I turned off the light and climbed up to the top bunk. Mindy unzipped her jeans. For the ninetieth time that day. I wasn't sure if she had any panties. Oh, well, she'd just have to make do without them.

---

Bring-aling-aling!

Bring-aling-aling!

"Hullo? . . .

"I forgot my key. I tried to call you. . . .

"At Hector's. . . .

"No! He was helping me with my project. . . .

"Yeah, finally. . . .

"It's too messed up. I'll have to do it myself. . . .

"That's OK. You can still come and watch. . . .

"OK. Bye."

---

"Hector . . . Hector . . ."

I jumped down in a second. It was morning. I'd slept in my clothes. "Are we late?"

Mindy was glowing, as if she'd slept for days. "We're fine. I just want to take a quick shower first. Can I borrow a towel?"

I fished one out and a bar of soap and pointed her in the right direction.

I checked the time. We were cutting it close. I put on a clean shirt.

---

"Come on," she said. "You're my dresser."

The room was full of girls in various stages of getting dressed. Girls in swirly petticoats fiddling with buttons, girls adjusting hems of other girls' jackets, girls in black bras and panty hose stepping into gray business suits. (Nude, non-control-top panty hose, as best I could tell.) A couple red faced guys trying to act nonchalant. Mindy looked around, but there was no place for any real privacy. She went toward the corner, and I stood behind her to shield her as best I could.

She unbuttoned her blouse, then unfastened and stepped out of her jeans. In the meantime, I gathered up the gown. She took off the blouse and raised her arms. For a second she was nude again. Radiant. Fresh. Lovely. Angelic.

I slid the gown down over her arms, over her breasts, over her hips. A dresser's embrace, covering her up inch by inch.

We had the technique down pretty well. I straightened the inner panel over her hips, then tugged it taut as she adjusted the waist. It hung down fine. The back panel was rumpled, so I had to reach in and smooth it over her butt.

And that was it. She was dressed.

"Oh my gosh. I forgot the shoes."

She dug into her jeans pocket for her phone.

"Carly! Have you left yet? . . .

"I forgot the shoes. . . . The tan ones. . . .

"How soon can you be here? . . ."

A worried look crossed her face.

"I can go," I said.

"Hector will be there in two minutes. Take them down to the lobby, OK? . . . Two minutes!"

I was out of the hall in a flash, across the quad to the bike rack. Didn't bother to wrap the chain, pedaling like a bat out of hell. Swerved past a jogger, sideswiped a nun---left her billowing in my wake. Shouldered the bike. Dashed up the steps. Lady behind the desk. Sputtering with concern.

"Pickup!" I panted. "Mindy! Carly! Third floor!"

Carly was coming down. Beaver Cleaver bathrobe. I dashed up two stairs at a time.

"No handcuffs!" I huffed. "Enjoy the show?"

She was holding the shoes. I took them.

"About to go on!" I puffed. "Catch you later."

Backed the bike down the stairs. Lady still sputtering. Down the front steps. Onto the pedals. Same nun. Different jogger. Found a railing. Show hadn't started. Nobody in the dressing room! There they were.

There was Mindy. In the middle. Golden. Shimmering.

"Wrong shoes," she said, "but they'll do."

She stepped into them. I knelt down and buckled the straps.

Things were starting up on the other side of the curtain. So I just gave her my best smile. She smiled back.

I drifted around into the auditorium and found myself a seat. Hurry up and wait. The guest speaker droned on about the principles of good something-or-other. Then the professor had a few words to say. Only then did the models come out.

The gown wasn't perfect. The inner panel hitched up a bit, and one side of the bodice was looser than the other. But it still looked pretty terrific to me.

Most of the models strutted around with blank expressions, like remote-controlled mannequins. But Mindy just couldn't keep her smile under wraps. She looked like the only live person up there. Like a golden ray of sunshine. Like a beautiful, vibrant, confident young woman in a glamorous, shimmering evening gown. You couldn't take your eyes off her.

I waited around after the show was over. It seemed like we still had a bunch of loose ends to take care of all up and down the quad. Design projects are like that.

Mindy came out in her jeans and blouse, chatting with some of her classmates. They made their way in my direction.

She gave me a cautious, shy, one-armed, side-to-side hug. The kind of hug you give a teammate once the adrenalin has worn off. I put my arm around her and hugged her back. We fit together like a snap in a socket. To her classmates, we must have looked like the perfect happy couple. Maybe that's what we were.

"B plus," she grinned. "The write up didn't match. And I smiled too much."

"Nah," I said. "You smiled just right."