"Hey, are you ready yet?" my friend called from downstairs as I hurried to get ready.
"Yes, in just one second..." I replied as I struggled to fit my foot into one of the sexy, strappy burgundy heels I had acquired for just such an occasion. A bunch of my friends were going clubbing that night, and they had graciously asked if I would like to go. Being that I had never gone clubbing before, I wasn't sure what to wear, but my friend had pulled me aside and whispered, "Dress in the sexiest, skimpiest thing you got."
So, true to her instructions, I had dug in the back of my closet filled with rather conservative, bosom-covering shirts and everything but low-rise pants until I found what I was looking for: a rich-colored, short burgundy dress that accented every curve, brought out the natural red highlights in my otherwise dark brown hair, and made my eyes flash with a seductive light not normally present in their soft brown color.
The dress was beautiful and made me feel sexy, but it dipped a little lower in the front than I was comfortable with. As long as my ample bosom didn't flash the crowds at the clubs, I would be fine. Not like any man would look at me anyway, being as big as I was. This particular night I was feeling more "chunky and clunky" than "big and beautiful."
We drove up to the club, which was not fully packed yet, but still had a line in front to go in. After hiking from our parking space, we waited to go in. I was a bit nervous about my dress, being that I had never dressed that provocatively before, but my friends all assured me I looked spectacular.
Thankfully, the guy at the door was nice and let us all in; my friends had informed me that some clubs had really surly bouncers, and so I was glad that this club wasn't like that. In fact, it didn't seem to match my stereotyped idea of a club at all: its atmosphere was dark but not overly smoky, and its selection of drinks at the bar was not overly alcoholic, both of which I liked. I also liked that everyone seemed to be really friendly and kind towards me, almost as if they knew it was my first time being there. Perhaps they could read it in my facial expression---I've never been too good at hiding my emotions.
The real dancing action was going on up closer to the DJ and the sound system, so I made my way up there and insinuated myself into one of the wilder dancing groups. Everyone noticed me and actually made a space for me, which was unusual; I had not usually been noticed before like that.
"Maybe it's the dress," I thought as the DJ put on a sultry, sexy rhythmic song on and I started to sway my softly curved hips seductively back and forth, like I'd learned from my middle- and high-school friends. Even though I was a virgin and had only been touched sexually once (against my will), I somehow knew what would turn heads and what would catch the sexual attention of any man watching me.
The crowd formed a wide circle around me and started to clap with the beat, and I stepped up my dance routine, putting fancy steps with the basic hip-swinging. Even while I was doing it, I couldn't believe I was doing it; it was so unlike me to get out and dance like that. Somehow, the music and the crowd and the urge to dance overcomes my self-consciousness, and I can perform and be as sexy and bold and confident as I want to be. It's quite like a natural high. I figure I don't need drugs to get me there; I just have to have a crowd, some music, and I'm ready to dance.
I danced around and around, the muscles of my slender calves and ankles working diligently with the beat, and my hips kept the slow figure-eight motion they had done from the start. I lifted my arms over my head and rifled through my hair, leaning ever so slightly forward as I did it, knowing that any man directly in front of me was going to get a shot of my ample cleavage. I reveled in the rare sexual power I held and almost embodied on the dance floor; it was not often that I felt sexy enough to even move my butt a little, let alone go this far.
Every man's eye was on me as I continued my saucy dance, and I loved it. It was an unfamiliar feeling----a feeling of being an object of desire for once instead of an object of ridicule. I at once recalled the only other instance I had felt this way...on my very first date, my only date so far in my life, and that had been with my first and only love---Chris.
My body continued its dance, but images flashed through my head. I remembered graduation, how I had uncharacteristically run up to him and hugged him, tears obviously shining in my eyes as I wished him good luck going to college. I remembered my first semester at college, wishing he was there with me, but knowing he was almost 300 miles away, taking other classes and probably making new friends and dating another girl. It saddened me, but somehow I made it through my first and second semester without feeling too lonely. Now it was summer again, and I had been without him one whole year. It honestly seemed like eternity. I longed to see him, longed to hear of him, or know that he was close by.
Suddenly a strong, masculine hand grasped mine firmly as I danced.
"Do you mind if I dance with you?" asked a fairly deep, pleasantly resonating voice.
That voice...was familiar. It brought up an image of love to me, of someone I knew very well. I turned to see----
"Hey! It's you! Hey, Chris!" I said loudly over the music.
"Hey. I saw you dancing and I thought I'd say hey." His face blushed and I couldn't resist smiling big. "That's great!" I said, my smile betraying my still-existent feelings for him. "Why don't we go over to one of those tables over there so we can catch up?"
"OK, sounds great," he replied. I stopped my dancing and walked with him over to one of the tables, where we sat down.
"How are ya?" I asked, still high from my dancing.
"I'm great," he replied shyly, as he had done in high school. "Gosh, you looked so...different. I almost didn't recognize you," he said with an ample blush in his cheeks.
"God, he is so sexy," I thought to myself. "Everything about him...Ooh!" I couldn't resist having a short mental squealing fit.
"Yeah," I said with a nervous laugh. "My friends invited me out for my first time clubbing. I didn't expect to see you here. God, how long has it been? A whole year of college?"
"Yeah...it's been a year," he said, casting his eyes down a bit.
"I didn't think you liked dancing in public, Chris," I said playfully.
"I usually don't. My friends actually told me to come tonight. I had plenty of work to do, but I got it done in time to come with them. I'm glad they told me about this; otherwise I wouldn't have seen you. I've wanted to talk to you for a long time."
"Me too," I said, half-wistfully. "I haven't seen you since we graduated." I wanted to add that I'd missed him severely, but thought it best not to do so.
"So, what have you been doing with yourself?" he asked sincerely.
"Well, aside from studying creative writing and working on my poetry and music, I've done nothing but build friendships," I said modestly.
"That's good...I had trouble making friends at first, but now I've got a pretty steady group I hang out with," he said. He looked at me straight in the eye then, his piercing dark brown eyes shooting through me to my very soul, and I realized how much I'd missed that gaze. "Well, aside from friends, do you have anyone else you hang out with?" he asked, with what I interpreted as worry in his voice. I about asked "Who do you hang out with besides friends?", but then I realized what he was asking about.
"Oh, you mean boyfriends?"
"Yes," he said, blushing a bit.
"Oh, I haven't had a boyfriend in forever," I said, my hand slightly brushing his in what I hoped he thought was a friendly gesture. Then I let it slip: "No one can really replace you!"
His face turned bright red. I must have turned ten shades of it trying to recover from my blunder.
