She was young, almost 21, and naΓ―ve to her own sensuality. Her first sexual relationship, which did not occur until college, lacked any flavor and resulted in a beautiful daughter with an absent father. Her high school sweetheart had described her as "voluptuous" and "unforgettable" but she did not see herself as anything more than plain. As a single mother of an infant, her opportunities to get out for grown-up time were slim and dating was not in the cards. Her 21st birthday was approaching. A few of her friends threatened to take her out to get "fit-shaced" but that was not her idea of fun. Instead she planned to spend it at home with a book. So the week leading to her birthday dragged on much like any other week. Each day she caught the bus to attend classes at the local junior college while her mother cared for the baby. At the end of the day she got back on the bus and returned home.
This went on until Thursday. She was standing at the bus stop in the dark when a sporty black hatchback pulled up in front of her. The passenger window rolled down as she heard her name called from within by a familiar voice, quiet and deep that in the past made her melt like butter. It could only be one person. Bending down to confirm the driver's identity, she was pleased to see the eyes looking back at her, eyes the color of a Tahitian shoreline - clear blue with a touch of green. Though her vision was limited to a dim streetlamp, she smiled as she recalled his curly red hair down to his low back that he kept pulled back into a series of simple rubber bands down the length of his ponytail. She briefly thought back to fond memories of entangling her fingers in his locks and breathing in his musky scent as they shared an intimate embrace. Hidden beneath the sleeves of his black leather jacket were his secure arms that made her feel safe when they were together, never pressured, and always his priority. Even though they had broken up long ago, he was a faithful and trusted friend. "Need a lift?"
She hopped in the car without hesitation. As he pulled from the curb, they fell into a general chatter about their live's happenings over the prior few weeks since they had last seen each other. "What are you doing Saturday?" He asked. She made her usual excuses centered around obligations in her life, hoping he did not remember that it was her birthday. "I want to take you out to dinner." As much as she would love to take him up on his invitation, she again tried to excuse her way out, blaming the lack of a sitter. "It's all been taken care of. I already talked to your mother. She'll watch your little girl, so I won't take no for an answer," he said with a coy smile as he reached for her hand. They rode the rest of the way to her home, hands locked, without saying another word. As she stepped out of the car he called after her, "I'll pick you up at 4," and drove off before she could respond.
****
Saturday afternoon, she was nervous. Though she had grown up with him, had dated him, and had a strong friendship with him, the butterflies in her stomach were flitting about in overdrive. Wearing a front-clasping bra and a pair of black cotton bikini panties, she stood in her room pulling various shirts off hangers and jeans and slacks out of her drawers. After trying on and shedding six different pairs of pants, she settled on her most comfortable black pair, a royal blue button-up blouse, and a grey zip up hoodie. As she bent over to grab her old tennis shoes, she heard her dad in the living room. "Oh no. He's going to embarrass him," she thought. Pulling on her shoes she bolted out to the living room. "Thanks, Mom and Dad. We'll be back about midnight."