Stepping through the front door and locking it behind me, I glanced down the corridor to see whether I had arrived too soon. The door at the far end stood open a few inches, spilling a warm, widening band of light into the carpeted hallway. It was just dusk, and the glow from behind the door mingled with the setting sunlight coming in through the high, rectangular windows on either side of the hall.
Tossing my keys on the table by the door, I got out of my coat and laid it over the high back of the wooden chair in the foyer. As I made my way down the hall towards the welcoming light, eyes fixed ahead, I distractedly slid my briefcase through the staircase railing onto the steps leading upstairs.
Reaching the door, I pushed it aside and stood still a moment, listening.
Finding the room empty, I began to curse my poor timing but stopped short when my eyes fell on a yellow slip of paper resting nearby on an arm of the long sofa that wrapped around two sides of the spacious room. I unfolded it and read the simple written instructions, reading it again before rounding the corner into the adjoining study. Unbuttoning my shirt and kicking my shoes off, I stretched out to wait on the padded leather chaise lounge facing the door.
She didn't keep me waiting long, but by the time Penny appeared in the doorframe with her mouth curled up into the winsome smile I knew so well, my mind had begun to wander and so had my hands. The mischievous expression on her lovely face was replaced at once with one of feigned indignation when she saw that I had already begun to celebrate our anniversary without her.
"L-look at you—", I stammered.
Before I could get the words out I broke up laughing as the little vision before me stumbled and nearly fell rushing over to slap my hand away from my half-erection.
"You were supposed to wait!" she complained.
Her eyes darted back and forth from my own down to the real object of her interest, that perpetual smile dancing on her lips and spoiling the seriousness of her rebuke.
"How can I just lie here, soft, when I know what I'm waiting
for
?" I asked, sitting up and reaching to wrap my arms around her slender waist. She twisted away and stood up straight just out of reach, beaming at me again.
"Think about it, Penny. When my illicit, 21-year-old girlfriend promises to make our first anniversary 'special', reaching under the table at a public restaurant and nibbling on my ear, whispering dirty suggestions, I'm going to have a hard time thinking of much else for the duration."
"Well you didn't have to take it out," she pouted, her eyes flashing down to what I held in my lap. "Besides, you didn't
really
know what you were waiting for, now did you?"
"I know now, though, don't I
…
Fairy Princess, I take it?" Blushing, she closed her eyes and nodded, lifting a thin, ribbony wand with one hand and waving the other over her body ceremoniously, as if to reveal the slutty attire she selected for the occasion.
Turning one bare knee in, she presented the pink heels she had chosen. Open-toed and fastened with a little strap around the ankle, they showed off the lovely contours of her feet as well as the tiny, freshly painted nails lined up neatly in front. She turned and offered her full profile now, glancing at me sideways to observe my reaction.
Slowly, my eyes followed the gentle curvature of her lean, athletic legs until coming to rest on her shapely ass. My gaze lingered dizzily on that perfect, heart-shaped trove before wandering up her graceful back—from which a pair of bright pink butterfly wings hung from between her shoulder blades like something from a twisted fantasy.
They were about sixteen inches from top to bottom, made from a thin transparent fabric, and hung from thin elastic bands which wrapped tight under her arms and attached in back. They were trimmed in outline with the same pink marabou fur covering two little antennae projecting stiffly from the pink plastic headband she wore.
Her girlish wand, wings and antennae nearly completed the outfit. I was pleased to find that her pert, smallish breasts were bare, their fat, puffy nipples visible beneath the sheer ripples of a transparent babydoll top I had never seen her wear before—also pink of course and trimmed in lace. Faintly adorned with floral designs, the seductive garment hung open a little from top to bottom, loosely fastened with a thick pink ribbon encircling Penny's delicate upper midriff and tied off to the side.
The high-cropped cut of the négligée was extremely provocative. Penny's broad, shapely pelvic area, a feature she never tired of flaunting, was only half-concealed by the shameless hemline. She slowly rotated, not bothering to conceal her satisfaction with the effect it was having on her audience. Taunting me with a sultry, mocking smile, she paused to show me how the frilly hem hung less than an inch below the summit of that unclaimed treasure of an ass.
Her panties left so little to the imagination that they were hardly to be described as a garment at all. She wore a thong, T-shaped in back, consisting of two threadlike straps joined by a tiny metal ring at the small of her back and attached to either end of the tiny swatch of satin which nestled vanishingly between her legs in front.
No detail escaped my notice as she slowly turned for me. The thong rode low around her hips. The connecting strap in back dove deep between her buns and ran blessedly out of sight. The little pink triangle which hung in front from the strap encircling her waist was scarcely any larger than a band-aid. It dipped low, barely concealing her visibly puffy labia, a tiny pink island in the pale surrounding outline left from the larger, though hardly modest, bikini she had sunbathed in earlier that day.
This was lingerie meant to leave much less to the imagination than it revealed. A narrow, closely trimmed strip of Penny's strawberry blonde pubic hair shamelessly peeked out about an inch above the triangular patch. It was an obscene reminder that her costume was, like others of its kind, intended not to be worn so much as to be discarded, violently and in a hurry. But my girl was taking her time for now.
A woman with Penny's gifts needed little help from a costume so lewdly designed. Admiring her selection, watching it cling to her gorgeous young body, it seemed almost dangerously enticing. It's simply an invitation, I fancied; and an indecent one from such a fresh-faced, auburn angel as this one. Standing upright with her thighs together, she gave the scandalous, and nearly accurate, appearance of being nude from her navel to her ankles. Her smile contained something I couldn't quite discern, a half-kept secret she wasn't sure she wanted to share just yet.
Her sweet voice broke the spell into which I'd fallen—the first of many she was to cast that evening.
"Yes, baby, now you know what I'm wearing for our anniversary," she said warmly, condescending a little. "But for all you knew until a moment ago, I was going to invite all your stuffy colleagues over for tea and cake."
"Well, let's be fair," I added with a shrug, "it's not as though I wouldn't be happy to have you…share your tea and cake with my stuffy colleagues. Especially our esteemed Chair."
A rosy flush came to her sweet face. Over the year and a half I had known her, I'd often observed the disarming, in some ways misleading, effects this girl's winsome disposition can have on those content to settle for first impressions. "She's such a charming young woman," I had often heard from our colleagues and acquaintances. "Bright, outgoing. And so advanced for a junior graduate student."
If they only knew. The flush on her cheeks lingered for a moment only before ebbing away.
<><><>
Hassan Bath, the presiding Chair of the psych department where Penny and I both spent our days, was a distinguished scholar and a judicious administrator. And in my profession, where there is blessedly little of the competitive hysteria and petty conflict so common elsewhere, he was the closest thing to a "boss" either of us had.
