Becoming Joy

Joy heard her phone buzz as she shut down her office desktop for the weekend. She opened the text message from Rich. "Picking u up @10PM. Wear sexiest clothes u own." She looked quizzically at the screen. 'Did we have a date tonight and I forgot? I mean, it's Friday, but I don't remember us making plans..." She quickly texted back, "Where R we going?" When he didn't reply back immediately, she shrugged, fished her keys from her Dooney & Bourke bag (a birthday present from Rich), and said her goodbyes to her co-workers as she headed towards the parking lot. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, and glanced at his response. "Cant tell u – its a surprise," it read. Exasperated, she rolled her eyes as she tossed her cellphone into her open purse and turned the key in the ignition.

As she backed the silver Jetta out of its space and headed towards the freeway, Joy couldn't help but be curious. What did he have in mind? Was his plan related what she'd told him in bed last weekend? She wasn't ready. She needed more time. She needed to shave her legs. She didn't have anything to wear. She...dammit. She was out of excuses already. Butterflies began to flitter in her stomach as she considered what exactly Rich had in store for her tonight.

As she entered her apartment, she locked her front door behind her, retrieved her phone and called his number. "Hey, baby!" Rich never answered his phone with a hello like a normal person. "Ready to get wild tonight? I'm going to make that fantasy of yours come true, and it starts tonight!"

"Rich, I don't know about this." The uncertainty in her voice betrayed her.

"You're right – you don't. That's why it's a surprise!"

Apprehensive, Joy replied, "You know good and damned well that isn't what I mean. I don't think I'm ready to just jump right into this sort of thing."

"Damn, Joy, relax! You'll thank me for tonight - believe me. And before you ask, it has nothing to do with Emily, OK? This isn't her sort of thing."

"How do you know it's not her thing? What have you been telling her?" Joy's voice began to rise in pitch, the needle on her "pissed-off" gauge steadily climbing in tandem with her speech. Emily was a friend, and she had dated one of Rich's younger brothers a couple of years ago. She was the one directly responsible for introducing them. But Joy was always oh-so-careful with what she said around Emily, because she couldn't keep a secret if her life depended on it. Oh my god, did he tell her about my fantasy? Joy thought with horror. "What have you been fucking saying to Emily? Did you tell? Is that how you know?"

"Damn, Joy! Calm down!" Rich knew Joy had an extremely hot temper. However, growing up in an Italian household with a big family, he'd learned early on how to be the peacemaker when tempers flared and arguments erupted. "I have not been fucking saying anything to Emily," he chided. "I've known Emily for a long time. I just know that she wouldn't dig your idea, for one thing. And for another, she's a sweet girl, but she's got a big mouth. I wouldn't trust her with something like what you told me about the other night."

"Oh." The wind in the sails of her anger began to dwindle. "Glad I'm not the only one to notice that about her. But I still need to know where we're going tonight, Rich. It's kind of hard to know how to dress, what shoes to wear, how I should--"

Rich cut across her mid-sentence. "Would you just trust me? I already told you- wear the absolute sexiest thing you own. Something that would make a complete stranger come in his pants the first time he looked at you. Does that help?"

"You're kind of an asshole, you know that, right?" Joy tried to still sound stern and angry, but the laughter bubbling just below that façade gave her away. "OK, I think I have something like that. Are we dancing? Because if we're going out to disco, I'm wearing comfortable shoes."

"Nope. Wear that pair of black...what did you call them? Your 'fuck-me' pumps?"

Joy laughed out loud now, her fit of jealous rage forgotten. "Okay, fine. Fuck-me pumps it is. Let me go so I can start getting ready, " she replied. They said their goodbyes and Joy tapped the 'end call' icon on her phone. Whatever he had planned, Rich was definitely sure of himself. Her interest thoroughly piqued, Joy considered what might be in store for her at evening's end. Whatever it was, she knew how it was going to begin – she needed a shower.

She turned the knob for the hot water in the shower full blast and began to unbutton the royal blue blouse she'd worn to work. She stood in front of the mirror as she did, her reflection revealing her modest cleavage and the clasp of her bra at its center. Further down, her fingers working nimbly but unhurried as she reached her waist, pulling her shirttail out and shrugging it off her shoulders. She reached back and gently tugged at the zipper of her grey pencil skirt. It slipped down her hips to reveal panties patterned in cranberry and gold. These too quickly whispered to the floor, landing in a puddle on top of the skirt. She tested the shower, yanking her hand back quickly from the heat. She added cold water to the spray, tested again. Finally satisfied with the temperature, her hands returned to her chest and smoothly unclasped her bra. She glanced at the mirror again – the mirror-Joy's breasts now uncovered, her rose-colored nipples visible in the steam-hazed glass. She reached up, cupped them in her hands, and tested their weight. She smiled, satisfied with mirror-Joy's goods, pushed back the pale yellow shower curtain, and stepped under the spray.

Hands placed over her face as she tilted her head into the water's path, the shower rained down on Joy's hair, saturating it, pouring over her head. She reached up, slicking it back with her fingers. She squirted a small amount of her very expensive salon-bought shampoo into her cupped palm and began to twirl it through her hair. As she massaged the soap into her scalp, her thoughts again turned to what Rich's scheme was for the night. If he wanted her to look like a sex goddess, they were obviously going somewhere very sexy. And he said he wanted her to be noticeably sexy, which meant he wanted her visible. Were they going to some sort of party? An exclusive nightclub of some kind? Why was he so insistent that she should be dressed to kill? A thrill raced through her as she thought of the possibility of being shown off at some celebrity-hosted bash in the city, paparazzi snapping pictures of famous people around her. And then of her and Rich together. And then just of her. "Joy, over here! Joy, this way! Joy, who are you wearing?" She felt a gentle tug somewhere in her belly, the thought of being a star turning her on.

She turned away from the shower nozzle and let the water pound on the back of her neck, returning to her fantasy. She pictured herself sipping champagne, tittering at the joke of some handsome, award-winning actor, all the while wearing an extremely brief dress and four inch heels. She grabbed her shower gel and sponge, and began to smooth the soap over her skin. She lathered over her arms and shoulders, sliding across her upper chest. She almost gasped aloud when she brushed the sponge over her chest, her nipples stiff and aching. She slipped her free hand across her breast, and the desire that had started somewhere behind her navel had moved south. She began to caress her breast with one hand, pinching and tugging at the nipple. Her other hand, still holding the sponge, was absently circling her lower belly, dipping lower, lower. She was completely enveloped in her fantasy, shower forgotten.

Joy dropped the sponge to the shower's floor, her fingers now glancing over her well-moistened cleft. Her fingers sought out and found her labia, gently stroking the tiny nub of her growing clitoris out of its hood. She turned around to face the shower now, biting her lower lip as the spray landed full force on her breasts' erect peaks. She stepped up with one foot on the ledge of the shower, opening her thighs and giving the shower spray full access to her sex. She stretched her labia up and back, exposing her clit and pussy, gasping with pleasure as the water pounded down on her most sensitive spots. Her legs began to quiver, her breath quickening as the pressure built in her womb. Just as she felt herself teetering on the edge of her climax, she grabbed the hot water handle and twisted it hard clockwise.

The water turned from comfortably warm to frigid almost instantaneously, and she gasped loudly, arms wrapped around her breasts, forcing herself to stand there under the icy cascade for a ten-count. As the promise of her orgasm retreated unfulfilled, she side-stepped the spray and turned the cold-water handle off. "There. That should do it," she thought as she panted, shivering. The faucet continued to drip for a moment longer, and then the only sounds were the water draining and her own labored breathing. Joy's body was aching for release, but bringing herself so close to climax and then stopping it cold (literally, in this case) would ensure that she would be as sexually charged tonight as possible. Rich had really talked up this date, and she wanted to be on a razor-thin wire between impulse and ecstasy for him all night long.

Chapter 3 will be coming soon - PLEASE submit feedback and vote!