The doorbell rang a second time and I stood frozen in front of my closet.
"Don't worry, I'll get it," I heard Danny say, and I can hear the snide smile in his voice.
Holy shit. I went back to scrambling around; trying to find the right outfit, but all the while my brain wouldn't shut up.
Ian is at the door, which Danny is right now opening. Ian, the guy that I just started seeing, being greeted by Danny, my roommate-with-benefits. And this roommate-with-benefits demonstrated said benefits just minutes ago, using his incredibly talented fingers. He's also the one who told me to wear my leather mini and black stilettos on my date with Ian tonight, but no panties, so that he could have easy access, as he will also be at the party and I owe him one. I OWE HIM ONE. Jesus, how do I get into these situations?
"I'll be right there," I yelled over my shoulder as I grabbed my black miniskirt, NOT because Danny told me to wear it, but because it's one item I can put my finger on that doesn't need to be ironed. To go with it I found a scoop neck emerald green sweater. As I pulled it over my head, I told myself that this sweater is perfect because it looks great with the skirt and shows off my big, green eyes, NOT because it also shows off any other attributes that I may have, and might possibly put them within easy reach. I slipped my feet into my black stilettos, knowing that they're the only real choice to go with the skirt.
I quickly crossed the room to my dresser to pull out some panties, all the while conscious of the fact that Danny was chatting up Ian just down the hall. I reached in the drawer and pulled out a tiny, black lace G-string and considered it a moment. I could feel that my pussy was still soaking wet, which forced me to remember how it got that way. I stood there, G-string in hand, thinking of Danny, and his kisses on my neck, and his fingers, stroking, stroking. I closed my eyes, remembering, as my wetness increased until I could feel it slowly drip down my inner thigh. I forced myself back in to the present, thinking that that the panties would only get soaked, so I dropped them back in the drawer and looked at the small pile of bras. It was only then that I realized that I had pulled my sweater on without one. Thinking of this made me suddenly aware of how my nipples were brushing across the inside of the cotton sweater, rubbing against the soft material.
What the hell,
I thought,
I don't have time for this,
and I hurried away from the dresser, skipping a bra, and grabbing for my makeup.
In two minutes, I was all ready for my date and stopped to take a quick look in the mirror. My first thought was, "God, I look hot!" My second thought was, "Ian is not going to recognize me."
For the other two dates we had met straight after work, and I had worn relatively conservative outfits. On weekdays, I always wear my sandy hair, which is full of unruly curls, back in a tight knot, with just a few strands hanging down, bracketing my face. But tonight I had no time to mess with that, so with just a tad of gel, I left it loose and it hung to my shoulders in a sexy, tousled array. My eyes went from my hair down to my braless sweater, showing all kinds of cleavage, took in my miniskirt, whose length was only slightly longer than indecent, and slid down to my four inch heels, and finally back up to my face. Due to time constraints, I had applied very little eye makeup, but my lips, done up in fire engine red, made up for it. I looked like I was going clubbing, not to a backyard birthday party. I took a deep breath and then grabbed some large hoop earrings as I left my bedroom.
All of this took under five minutes, but that was still four and a half minutes longer that I was comfortable with Danny and Ian being in the same room. I walked in as Danny was handing Ian a bottle of beer. Ian turned when he heard me, and when his eyes got to me he froze.
I was one step into the living room, hands up, inserting an earring into my right earlobe, but when I saw Ian's eyes on me. I stood still, frozen in place.
His dark eyes did a quick once over from my unruly curls, down to the red toenails peeking out of my shoes, and back again. Then he repeated the action, more slowly; eyes lingering on my red lips, and down to my chest. I absently wondered if he could tell from there that I wasn't wearing a bra. I decided he probably could, and at that thought my nipples began to tingle and I felt a slight warmth down below.
All through this perusal, Ian's face held absolutely no expression. When he was done, his eyes locked onto mine, but he said nothing.
Danny was not so self-restrained. "Holy shit, Jen, you look hot."
I was not able to pull my eyes away from Ian's gaze, so I saw the annoyance creep into his expression at Danny's comment, along with something else.
Ian might feel annoyed, but it didn't hold a candle to what I was feeling toward my roommate at this point. Not only was Danny completely oblivious to the fact that my date might not be thrilled that my roommate is male (which I may have neglected to mention on our previous dates), but he was altogether clueless that its bad form to call your female roommate "hot" in front of her date.
Ian continued to look into my eyes.
"Good evening, Jenny. You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you," I said quietly, breaking our gaze by looking down, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about my choice of attire.
This evening was supposed to be the make-or-break date. By the end of the night I would either break it off with Ian or take it up a notch. In the bedroom, while still on a post-orgasmic high, the outfit seemed somewhat of a dare, although it was unclear to me if I was daring myself or Ian.
But right now, I felt a little embarrassed; like I had disappointed Ian.
