"Ding," the doorbell rang, and Miranda stopped breathing for a moment. "Ding, ding," the doorbell rang, and she grabbed her glass, knocking it back before realizing it was empty. She grabbed the bottle, and it was empty, too. Getting up from the table, she swayed slightly and went to the kitchen sink, getting a glass from the cupboard and filling it from the tap. "Ding, ding," the doorbell called again as she drank quickly. Head slightly cleared, she walked to the front door, anxiously walking quickly, suddenly worried if she didn't get the door fast enough, the stripper might leave.
On her way to the door, Miranda shook her head, trying to clear the fog from her mind. I should have had another drink, Miranda thought, or stuck to coffee. A fist pounded on the door as she approached, and she could hear muffled shouting. "One-second," she called, finally nearing the door. "I was in the kitchen," Miranda said, opening the door and swaying slightly.
"You should get one of those intercom things," a sultry voice said, as Miranda blinked, the sun was shining through the clouds and she teared up a little, unable to make out the woman clearly. "I got an order for Candy," the sultry voice continued, warm and syrupy, "Is this the right house for the party?" Blinking, Miranda finally made out the woman's face, pretty, less makeup than the website, but with a harder jawline than she would have guessed. Candy stood there, hips cocked to the side, clad in a loose fitting blue blouse and jeans that looked almost like Miranda's own. Through the blouse, her breasts looked a bit larger than Miranda's, possibly a c-cup, though it was hard to tell through the blouse. Long blonde hair, with some darkened highlighted streaks, hung bound in a loose pony tail down her back and over her shoulder, framing her long, elegant neck.
"Come in," Miranda said, drawing a deep breath, "Please."
Strutting inside, Candy held a small stereo loosely in her left hand, looking around the den with her eyes wide, "Nice place," she admired, "so, where is the party?" Miranda stared at her jean clad bottom for a moment, the rips in her jeans looked too symmetrical to be natural wear and tear. Through the thin, horizontal rips, Miranda could see toned, creamy calf and thigh. Licking her lips, she felt her pulse quicken as she contemplated the woman's backside. "Hello? My face is up here," Candy demanded, her voice firm, "Where's the party, Miranda?"
Almost jumping, the dark haired woman had a surprised look on her face, before she smiled, her cheeks blushing. "Ah, I'm the party," she said, "It's ah, just me."
"Really?" The blonde replied, her manicured eyebrows rising in slight surprise. She wore a light pink colored lipstick, which glistened slightly. Miranda stared at her lips for a moment, swaying as she stood, still slightly drunk from her morning's indulgence.
Blushing, Miranda replied as calmly as she could, "I was too embarrassed to say it was for me on the phone," she sighed, "if it's a problem, I understand."
Chuckling richly, the stripper shook her head, "just tell me where to setup, boss."
Miranda paused, debating about simply using the den, or the home theater, or her bedroom. Or the patio, she thought, then dismissed the idea, as unlikely as it was, somebody could walk by eventually and see. "Follow me," she said, "Ah, Candy," she gulped, "can I get you anything before you begin?"
"I'm fine," Candy replied, following the dark haired woman down the hall, past the kitchen into the other wing of the manse. "This is some place you have," she said, "divorced?"
"No," Miranda said, walking swiftly down the hall, holding up her right hand, showing off her ring. She led them down the stairs to the sub level, where the home theater was located. "My husband is wonderful. He's at work right now, though." She flicked on some lights as she went, as the basement stayed dark during the day. "Is this okay?" She asked, walking into the large room after the lights flicked on. She turned on the back-row and dimmed them, giving the theater a lit but ambient glow.
Candy nodded, staring at the four rows of recliners, "This works for me. Nice setup." Miranda smiled, watching as Candy walked to the front of the room, near the projector screen built into the wall. "Sit here," Candy said, patting the recliner in the middle of the front row, "I can get started whenever you're ready."
Seated, Miranda stared at the woman, wondering briefly if she was her age or slightly younger. "Rules first," Candy said, setting the small stereo down on the floor. "I can touch you," Candy smiled broadly, showing straight, white teeth, "You can't touch me, if you do, show's over. I'd prefer you don't touch yourself, either, even though you probably wouldn't make a mess like a guy would." With a lewd grin, Candy arched her back, hands on her hips as she stretched, "If the rules are okay with you, I'll start. If not," Candy paused, reaching back to remove the tie from her hair, shaking it free. "Then thank you very much for the payment, and I'll show myself out."