Four out of four... of maybe make that five.
Tina was pissed off and unhappy. It should have been a wonderful night but instead, it sucked. She felt alternately angry and inadequate. It was a Friday night and for once her boyfriend had agreed to come to the party with her rather than hanging out with the boys. A regular activity she understood but which she didn't exactly love!
But the miserable bastard had just told her he wasn't staying with her to the end, and that he was bored and going to meet up with the boys for the second half of the evening.
"Why did he prefer their company to hers?" she asked herself, not for the first time. It sucked, and it didn't make sense. It made her feel inadequate. She'd always dreamed that when she fell in love, her man would be proud of her and want to be seen with her, and instead he seemed indifferent in public, even though he could be so sweet, sometimes, especially when they were alone.
The other reason it hurt was that it was their anniversary and he'd completely forgotten. Not that it really was important to her, except that she had remembered and thought that he should have as well. She felt a sudden stab of pain at the thought of the gift she'd bought him. Well, it wasn't exactly for him, but more for them. She felt a sudden warm rush as she remembered dressing for tonight, but it was replaced by a bitter thought of how pointless it had turned out to be.
She'd gone out and bought that special satin set of Victoria Secret that she'd been trying to find an excuse to buy, and had felt a real buzz of anticipation when she stood in front of the mirror earlier tonight. Even she had to admit she looked sexy, the tiny midnight blue straps across her hips, the tiny patch of fabric barely covering her clean shaved pubic patch. The strap of the thong disappearing between her butt cheeks promised something more as she stared at her reflection as she turned. She'd grinned and thought, "it's got to be sexy if even I can admire myself".
And as she pirouetted, she had felt a tiny flush of pride as she stared at the reflection. One of the first guys ever to see her naked breasts had described them as "to die for", and she'd had enough admiring stares that she didn't have too many doubts that the straining breasts fighting against the shiny blue cups would attract their fair share of attention if anyone saw them. She felt a rush of affection as she thought "there's only one guy who is going to have that pleasure tonight". She'd barely been able to contain her anticipation, and for a moment she had let her mind wander to her present, later that night, for her man...she'd already tried the little catch hidden between her full breasts, and she knew that when he saw her hands reach there, and unclip and slowly open the front of her bra, he'd be desperate to get closer. "Why was it", she wondered, "that there was something so damned wanton, so inviting, about a front clip on a bra? It said "I want you to come and play."
She'd put on her jeans and her snug fitting black top with little buttons straining down the front, with her secret surprise hidden from view, but she'd felt spoiled and had been buzzing with a sense of anticipation all evening. "Until just now", she thought ruefully. "What a waste of money", she thought, "what a waste of an evening, and what a waste of a great pair of breasts that ached to be teased, played with, and enjoyed".
And now the bastard had gone, with barely a kiss goodbye on the cheek. "Maybe he felt a little guilty", she thought, and for the hundredth time she wondered, that niggling doubt in her mind, about whether he really was going off to be with the guys, or whether he was a cheating bastard rather than an insensitive pig. "Stop it NOW", she ordered herself angrily.
"What a jerk and a loser", she thought, and immediately felt a flash of disloyalty to her man.
"Dammit, though, it's not my fault. Why can't he just love me and want me? What's wrong with me?"
She thought she was about to cry and went and got another drink, as something to do, and also to give her a little comfort. Alcohol was sometimes a useful buddy.
She also resented the fact that because everyone knew she had a boyfriend, she was 'off limits', so most of her male friends wouldn't even flirt with her. "It was like having all of the bad aspects of having a boyfriend and none of the bonuses", she thought. Everyone else seemed to be having a great time. Sharee and Wanda, as always, gathering the boys like bees to a honeypot, and she felt a little giggle rise inside her, thinking about how the guys who knew were perversely turned on by the fact that Sharee was only into girls, forgetting as they flirted with her that it meant they stood no chance. It was true what they said, when god made men, he gave them enough blood to supply their brains or their penises, but not both at the same time!
"None of the guys even look twice at me", she thought, "I am taboo somehow, even for flirting". And then she thought about the cute guy who'd turned up with Dave, what a cute smile and the athletic body, and even he had ignored her, even though he didn't know she was taken. "Probably gay", she giggled to herself.
"What's the joke, Mushy?", Sharee asked as she came over. Bubbly as always. "You look gorgeous, as always. Poor guys, I can almost hear their hearts breaking".
Tina laughed. Sharee was such a sweetheart, always said the right things to make her feel special. "Actually, when you dance, it's not the cracking of their hearts, but the popping of their fly buttons I hear, you sexy little thing", Sharee continued. Tina laughed, but had known Sharee long enough to know she wasn't trying to do anything other than make her smile. She gave her friend a little hug and said "you're the best, little vixen. Why is it neither of us can find the one we want?"
Sharee nodded solemnly, and they shared a private moment, thinking about their respective plights. "What the hell" Sharee piped up, "it's party time and you need another drink". Tina felt the warm glow of the alcohol in her system, and decided that if men were the problem, alcohol was the solution. "Fetch me a drink, wench", she ordered, and Sharee giggled, heading off to get their drinks.
She was soon back, and they stood there, sipping.
"Not that I am into guys", Sharee started, "but did you see that gorgeous hunk that Dave brought with him? It's almost enough to turn me straight, I swear", she said. "what's your professional opinion?", she asked. Mushy giggled, the alcohol was making her forget her misery. "well, Sharee, you'd have to fight me for him", she replied.
"I am sure if we made him an offer, he'd be happy to share", Sharee teased. Tina pretended to look shocked, but spoilt it by bursting into laughter. "Knowing you, my little flirt, you'd make sure you were in the middle", she teased back.
"You'd be so lucky", Sharee replied and they both laughed as they shared their private little joke.
Tina put her glass down and a little unsteadily headed off to find the bathroom. She walked down the hallway and was almost past the half open door to the kitchen when the voices made her stop.
"I don't care what you say", he seems like a total asshole, said an unfamiliar voice, and then she heard Dave's reply of "well picked up, bro, sometimes even we wonder why she puts up with him".
She suddenly froze, realising that they were talking about her. She felt sober and serious, and furious. "It makes no sense to me. Why would the bastard leave?"
What right did they have to dissect her, to judge her? She was about to storm into the kitchen when she heard him continue.
"She's gorgeous, I mean, where would you start?"
She stopped, felt guilty about eavesdropping, and thought "it can't be me they are talking about", but she was curious now.
The voice continued. "I mean, look at her. Those eyes. Even from a distance they make you want to go and talk, simply so you could stare into them". Dave laughed.
"You are a romantic, and you sound like you're besotted, but I wouldn't waste my energy, Tina's taken, and she seems not to mind being used and abused".
She felt a wave of indignation at their simple assumption that it didn't hurt her.
