Prelude
-- The "PG-rated" version of this story was posted recently under the title, "A Friend In Need" if you're interested in comparing it to this one. Spoiler Alert: If you're a fan of hard-core graphic porn, this R-rated story probably isn't for you. Comments are appreciated.
With sincerest apologies to Ernest Hemingway fans
- it was supposed to be the best day of her life, but it quickly became one of her worst. Jessica was suddenly alone, single and pathetic, just two hours removed from what she THOUGHT was going to be a marriage proposal over dinner. How could she have been so clueless? More than two years invested in a monogamous relationship with Jason - the man of her dreams - and now look at her!
Her "perfect" ex-boyfriend did his best to remove her total lack of self-confidence when they first started dating. What did he see in her, she wondered back then? He was THE catch, the only man who ever really paid attention to her, who saw her for her inner beauty, and he almost had her convinced that she could deserve a man like him. They quickly became inseparable. Not only was he handsome, but he was a kind, patient and considerate partner in bed, and when she finally lowered her inhibitions, she had become a willing student. It took only a moment for the build-up to come crashing down as he ripped the band-aid off before they even set foot in the restaurant.
Now, staring into the mirror in her tiny apartment, she once again saw herself as she
really
was -- a frumpy, nerdy, quirky obsessive-compulsive woman with no social skills and little if any sex appeal. She never fathomed that outsiders saw a very different person. In reality, she possessed physical beauty of which she was totally unaware. A natural brunette, her complexion was just dark enough to have people wondering if she was from Spanish or perhaps Greek bloodlines. Depending on the way the light shone, her hair appeared to have natural auburn and copper shading that many women would die for.
At 5'4, she possessed an athletic, curvy body with full hips rising to a thin waist, accentuated with small but perky breasts. Her best physical attribute was undoubtedly her gorgeous big brown eyes, with her full lips a distant second. Although she never had braces, her teeth were almost perfectly straight and nearly pure white -- no doubt one of the few benefits of her prior bouts with OCD.
Despite her appearance, she rarely dressed to impress, preferring old jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts or pullovers to anything more stylish. If she wasn't in jeans, she was in a seemingly endless rotation of leggings. Her wardrobe consisted of perhaps twenty pair, all identical black Danskins. Today was an exception. Assuming that she was about to become engaged, she decided to skip the leggings or jeans. She agonized over her myriad of choices, finally selecting a navy blue skirt and a floral-print blouse after opting out of a black dress, reasoning that most women in the restaurant would be in something similar.
Now, back home and forgetting her OCD, she incrementally shed her clothing as soon as she entered her apartment, leaving it in a trail to her small bedroom. The skirt was discarded in the tiny living room along with her nylons, while the blouse made it as far as the hallway. The underwire bra was the last to go, and was tossed just outside of her bedroom.
Entering her room, she looked down at her sheer panties, which barely contained a freshly trimmed dark mound. Both the panties and matching bra were rare excessive purchases made just for this special occasion and to cap off what she thought would be a celebratory sexual romp afterward. For a split-second, she considered ripping the panties off and replacing them with her androgynous boy shorts, but - remembering the steep price tag - she decided to spare them, at least for tonight. She pulled her old comfy sweats from the dresser drawer and grabbed her "Time to Wine Down" t-shirt, putting both on before dropping onto her bed in tears.
Sliding under her comforter, she hugged her pillow and curled into the fetal position, closing her eyes but struggling to sleep as her head spun. At thirty-three, she thought she was FINALLY done searching for THE one. Now she couldn't bear the thought of seeing another man in any capacity. Wiping her mascara-smeared eyes, she heard the faint sound of a text message coming from somewhere under the covers. Ignoring it for a few minutes, curiosity got the best of her, and she fumbled under the comforter for the iPhone.
"Well? When's the big day?"
Karen, her best friend and co-worker at the diner, was almost more excited than Jess when she learned that tonight may be the night. Her text only served to fuel the tears, and Jess deleted it before sobbing uncontrollably in her pillow.
A few minutes later, she received another text.
"Details, pleeeaaassseeee!" <Delete>
As she lay on the bed, the phone rang. Prying her left eye opened, she saw that it was Karen once again, this time calling rather than emailing. Sniffling, she ignored it. Minutes later, another text:
"Jess -- Where are you?" <Delete>
"I'm worried about you -- I'll be right over." <Delete>
Oh God, thought Jess, suddenly regretting that she gave Karen an apartment key long ago. Again she buried her head under her pillows, realizing that she wouldn't have time to compose herself before Karen's visit, and knowing that there was no way to avoid her.
Pulling herself out of bed, she dragged herself into the bathroom, hurriedly removing what little makeup remained. Her hair was a mess, and rather than wasting time dealing with it, she opted instead for a ponytail. Grabbing a black Nike cap, she pulled her ponytail through it and prepared to look in the mirror.
She wasn't at all surprised by the hideous creature who looked back at her through swollen red eyes. In sweats with old elastic that was stretched so far that they only stayed up with help from her wide hips, she looked more like someone preparing to stand in line at a soup kitchen than one who -- hours before -- was floating on cloud nine in the vestibule of a four star restaurant. Wiping her eyes, she heard the loud knock at the door and knew it was going to be a long night.
Slowly moving from the bathroom, she said half-heartedly, "Ok, I'm coming."
She heard the key in the lock, but opened the door to face Karen.
"Oh my God, what in the world happened to you?"
"Long story, but, but .... " Jess broke down as she tried to tell her friend.
Karen wrapped her arms around Jess as she whispered, "It's ok, it's ok. Let's get you over to the couch. Deep breaths, ok?"
Jess nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks as Karen led her to the couch and plopped down beside her. Rubbing her back, Karen just sat quietly, knowing already what had taken place and realizing that there was nothing she could say to ease the pain. She now regretted bringing the two-liter bottle of chardonnay that was meant as an engagement celebration, and she hoped that Jess didn't see the gift bag next to the door.
