When I was 22, I had a roommate named Steve. He was one of a few roommates that lived in our house. He often introduced me to his friends. There was one woman to whom he was extremely eager to introduce me. We were both between relationships. He knew me and the other woman were both bisexual. I imagine he had plans to get included in whatever we would end up doing. Once he brought her to the house to meet me, though, he didn't even exist, as far as I was concerned.
Her name was Jenn. She was a blond. I never liked blonds. But this woman made up for her naturally light tresses with intelligence and wit that left me on the floor in awe. She wore that voluminous hair of hers in ponytails. The tails were pulled toward the back of her head, instead of out at the sides. She had black and white, lace ribbons tied around each one. She wore a tight, black tank top, a short, flaired, black skirt, opaque black tights, and Doc Martens. Her ample breasts swelled under that tank top, and forced my eyes down. Her waist curved in sharply, and her hips formed an envious hourglass shape. I gaped. I felt guilty. Men did this sort of thing, not women - and certainly not me. I reprimanded myself, and looked up into her perfect green eyes. The way she smiled melted my insides. From that very moment, I could have been hers.
I don't think I spoke a word all night. With the ten other guests and the three roommates all crowded into the room together, I could get away with my shyness and not look snobby. I peeked at her with sneaky glances throughout the night. I just didn't have the nerve to make any move toward her.
She came over to the house quite often. Everyone in our circle of friends was always at our house, so it was only natural she would be back. Each time she came over, the little nervous tickles in my belly would knock me into a fit of shy awkwardness. She would say something sarcastic and deadly funny. I would giggle softly, and squirm. Over the course of a few weeks, her familiarity wore down my shyness. I was finally able to banter the wit and sarcasm right back to her.
One night, before we left to go to our favorite club on our favorite night, she came over. She brought a lot of alcohol with her. I was in one of my broody, moody states. I really didn't want to go to the club. I hid in my room on days like that. She and my roommate, Erin, stormed into my room at right about 9:30 p.m. They handed me my bottle of Snow Creek Berry.
Erin said, "This should help cheer you up."
"Thanks," I replied, dryly.
Jenn opened my closet door. "I know you've got some tasty outfits in here. Where's the one that could kill..." She pulled out my patent leather corset, lace top, and chiffon skirt. She licked her lips and smiled at me seductively. My heart skipped a few beats while my sex throbbed. "Now, we're going to go out while you get dressed."
They left me with the bottle of Boone's and my favorite outfit. I stared at it. Now, I really didn't want to go to the club. My melancholy was actually accentuated by the teases with which Jenn plied me. I was intoxicated by the thought that Jenn wanted me to go, to be with her, though. I drank half the bottle, then set to work on the corset. My abundant cleavage made the job a little more difficult than I suspected it would be for another, less well-endowed woman. When I had the 22 holes laced, I buckled the four large, silver buckles as tight as they would go. I put on my black, push-up bra and the black, lace top with poet sleeves. It tied in front, and revealed a great deal of my breasts. I finished with my skirt. I bent over to adjust my breasts so that they were shoved together in the bra, comfortably. As I did this, Jenn and Erin walked back into my room. I could feel heat in my cheeks.
Jenn raised her eyebrows. "Woo hoo, woman! Aren't you finished, yet?" she hooted.
Erin flinched and said, "Oops, we're a little early." She laughed in her this-is-embarrassing-me way.
"It's only ten. We have another half an hour," I pointed out.
Erin said, "Get drinking then, we still have to do our make-up."
I continued my gulps from the bottle, while the two women sat on my floor with Erin's huge make-up box. Erin would need the whole half hour to finish the work she started on her make-up. Jenn wanted to use the whole time to drink, so she had her make-up finished before she got to our house.
Erin and Jenn talked of Erin's boyfriend, and I went to the bathroom to groom myself. Steve came in and started his ritual of theatrical make-up just as I finished my more-modest style. He started to work on a spider web over one eye. I just blinked and left the bathroom to him. I walked down the narrow, long hall, that passed the kitchen. There must have been a dozen people in there. The high ceilings amplified the sound of the laughter and conversation, and drowned out the music of Switchblade Symphony in the background. I walked by the first set of stairs, where even more people clogged the steps. I wasn't noticed. I didn't really pay any attention to the people crowded on the second stairwell that lead up to the third floor as I walked toward my room.
