My colleague Regina, a 31 and unmarried, sharp featured, thick luscious haired flowing to her waist, has these lips as thin as a diva's, that are very difficult to not look at. She regularly dressed in ethnic Indian clothes, and her exotic dark skin making her look like a woman with the wild streak. And I am 25, awestruck with her. We are now colleagues, though earlier our very close friends. A fallout affected it deeply and now we are only on talking terms. The pain and regret of hurting her still lingers, despite it being her foolishness that led to things going bad.
With Christmas around the corner, she invited me to visit a choir-singing at the local theater. Loving live performances, I tagged along. Just us two. As the day came, I dressed in my smart formals, and met her directly at the theater. She wore white Indian clothes, her hair let loose and eyes smeared with deep mascara. Approaching her, I realized how good she smelt.
Once the show got done, we headed for dinner. Being a Saturday night, there wasn't any rush to go back to our respective homes. I made sure she drank a little, to ease conversations that were to come. Then as the conversations got better, I brought up how good friends we were. Regretful things to have gone bad. Confessed my deep crush on her, which made the friendship breakup even more hard. Told her I often imagined chilling at her place in the evenings while she drank and I entertained her. She exclaimed, it's still possible. If you get what I mean.
Smiling, I stood up, and we took a cab to her home. She stopped by a store to pick 'something', and then also picked up some wine. Reaching her home, we settled on the couch. Chatting and laughing. She went in to change. Came out in a knee length cotton frilly skirt and a loose tee. Hair tied into a lazy ponytail, not looking quite the hot exotic chick anymore. With it obvious that I would be spending the night at her place, with no certain plans, I confirmed back home that I wouldn't be coming that night. Regina got me her pink shorts, which she often teasingly mentioned to me. Good they were of stretchable elastic, because I was am leaner than her. To wear on the top, she got me her gym workout t-shirt, rather tight and body hugging. Imagined what it may ave been for her when worn. So there I was after changing in her bedroom, tight white t-shirt tucked into shocking pink shorts. Not quite a macho look that did I have now. I looked at myself and then at her on walking into the living room where she sat. Seeing my hairy legs, she noted my embarrassment, and to save me from that and partly to add to her enforced femininity, she quickly got me a pair of floral leggings. I actually enjoyed wearing those. Then there I was, at her command.