"
Ashley
!" I squealed, pulling my best friend into my arms on my doorstep.
"Anna! What's up, girlie?" Ashley asked as she stepped inside, shrugging out of her jacket and dropping her overnight bag on the floor. She wore sheer black leggings and a low-cut burgundy tank top, with a black knit beanie. Her caramel-brown locks fell just below her collar bones in soft waves, framing her sweet, round face. Her dainty nose was flushed bright pink from being outside in the cold, and her eyes were icy blue and rimmed with smoky black eyeliner and fake eyelashes. Briefly, I felt embarrassed that she was dressed normally, and I was in my pajamas — a tiny pair of pink shorts and a black camisole, my blonde locks scooped into a high ponytail.
"I was just making us some popcorn. And I convinced Jake to get us a bottle of wine," I giggled, referring to my twenty-three year-old brother. Jake totally understood when I asked him earlier, since he always asked his friends to buy him alcohol when he was nineteen, too. Technically, I was eighteen, but Ashley was nineteen. And he knew we would drink responsibly. since we were staying in for the night.
"Oh, sweet!" Ashley smiled. "But won't your parents be home tonight?"
"They're out for the weekend for a business conference. They left like, an hour ago."
Ashley nodded and headed upstairs to my bedroom, and I stopped in the kitchen to collect the popcorn and the chilled bottle of cheap white wine. The clock on the stove read 8:39 P.M., and I heard Jake yelling into his gaming headset in the basement — which was also his bedroom.
When I got to my bedroom, Ashley was laying on her stomach on my bed, in front of the TV, having kicked her boots off near the door. Her round eyes were fixed on her iPhone. Embarrassingly, I noticed how nice her ass looked in her leggings.
Maybe I should buy some leggings like that.
"Scoot over, bitch!" I poked at her playfully, and she wiggled over on the bed as I dropped the popcorn on the side table, the wine on the bed next to us. I perched myself on the bed next to the wall. Ashley was scrolling on Instagram, and she shoved the phone in my direction.
"You would look
so
hot with your makeup done like that," she declared, referring to a blonde model with smoky eyeliner and red lipstick. Ashley was very interested in cosmetics, always chattering on about makeup and skincare trends.
"I'm not sure about red lipstick on me," I disagreed gently, taking a sip of wine out of the bottle. "I've got green eyes. It doesn't match."
"That doesn't matter! Don't be ridiculous. Where's your makeup bag? I can do your makeup, it'll be fun!" Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at the opportunity to do my makeup.
"It's in the bathroom, on the counter."
With that, Ashley darted to the bathroom, returning seconds later with my small bag of products that I hardly ever used. I heard her manicured nails clicking against packaging as she laid out each item carefully on my duvet, selecting my most expensive red lipstick — one I bought for special occasions, and had never worn.
When she was satisfied with her set-up, she straddled my lap, and tucked the few loose blonde tendrils of hair behind my ears before taking a big sip of wine.
Wow, she smells good.
Like cinnamon and apples.
I flushed pink at how close she was to me, how soft her legs felt pressing into mine. Her full breasts were perched in a lacy push-up bra that poked out from neckline of her top... right in front of my face. Thank God she didn't notice my blush — too busy analyzing my makeup brushes. She applied a thin layer of concealer under my eyes and over my chin and forehead, then dusted my face with powder.
"You have such nice skin," she pouted, stroking my cheek with her finger. "I wish my skin was this nice."
God, she's... cute. Fuck, I'm not gay! I'm just getting flustered because she's sitting on top of me like this,
I feebly reasoned with myself as Ashley swiped something through my thin, blonde eyebrows and dabbed shimmery powder over my cheekbones, her touch feather-light.
"Close your eyes," Ashley demanded. I did as I was told, and she applied a creamy black eyeliner, smudging it with her fingers. She leaned back to check her work, and forward again to keep working. The friction on my lap of her leaning back and forth left me feeling incredibly flustered. She clapped her hands together, clearly proud of her artwork. She took a few sips of wine as the eyeliner dried.
"Okay, now open your mouth," she said gently, focused. I did, hoping she didn't notice the flush that crept over my cheeks again. She painted the crimson liquid lipstick over my lips, and to my shock, dips a finger into my mouth.
"Suck."
My eyes widened, and something tingled deep in my stomach, but I sucked her fingertip as I was told. She twisted her finger and pulled it out.
"See?" she asked, motioning toward the lipstick on her fingertip, "All this lipstick would've dried and ended up on your teeth if it weren't for that little trick."
Oh. "
Oh, t-that's cool," I stuttered once the lipstick was dry, unable to shake the blush from my cheeks.
Ashley made an excited noise, clapping her hands together again, and handed me the hand-held mirror.
"
I was
so
right. You look hot! Wait, take your hair down first!"
She slid the ponytail out of my hair, and pale golden waves cascaded around my shoulders. I stared into the mirror, and Ashley's makeup artistry was immaculate. I looked almost like the model in the photo. My pale green eyes were accentuated with dark, smoky black wings, and my scarlet lips looked full and soft. My ivory skin glowed.
"Wow, Ash, great job. I wish I was as good as you are with makeup," I squeaked, giving her a shy smile. She beamed, proud as ever.
