This is Part 4 of Vix's story. Best enjoyed after reading parts 1 to 3, so that you know the background.
***
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I stood naked in front of the full-length mirror and looked at myself. I'm still astonished that Roo thinks I'm gorgeous. Olivia, too, once told me I was 'flawless,' or some such tosh, but I struggle to see it.
My hair is fine and flyaway, and its natural colour is a mousy brown -- an unfortunate blend of Mum's brunette and Dad's sandy blond - hence, I keep it to collar length and dye it a mad colour. My face is pretty - everyone says so -- but it's a girl's face. Not very womanly. I'm fairly short, and slim, but I do have modest curves.
I'm not the classic English "pear shape," but I'm definitely a bit more more hippy than busty, though that does give me a nice rounded bum. No, I'm not telling you my measurements.
My tits are small, but cute, I think, and my nipples are startling when I'm turned on. If they were on Roo's boobs they'd be spectacular. I have a nice flat stomach but my pussy is very shy. In fact, if I don't deliberately reveal its charms, there's nothing much to see at all, apart from its little patch of pale-coloured pubes, which I keep very tightly trimmed. I sometimes wish it were more like Olivia's. Gosh, hers was so rude and fleshy. Makes my mouth water just thinking about it.
I suppose it's human nature to wish we were more this, or less that, but... I pushed up my boobs to make them seem bigger, then dropped them and stamped my foot to make them jiggle a bit, then I teased my pussy lips apart to show my little pink petals, turning sideways to admire them in profile, and pulling up with my fingers to make my clit stand out. Then I ran my hands over my hips and struck a provocative pose with my legs apart...
'Yeah, you're pretty sexy Vix,' I thought to myself. I decided I should be happy that there was nothing bad or ugly about me, and to just bask in Roo's adulation. AND enjoy HER body, which is much more beguiling than mine. In fact, just thinking about her made my nipples start to harden, and to start a little glow in my pussy. Oh God, here we go again...
I got out my favourite vibrator and, reclining on my pillows with legs akimbo, I turned it on and eased it between my lips. It slipped into my already-wet pussy so easily. I slid it, slowly and smoothly, in and out, relishing the sensation of its ribs rippling wetly through my entrance. Occasionally, I slipped it out and brought the tip of it up to give my clit a little buzz, then plunged it back in, pushing it as deep as possible, and quivering at the sensations as the toy vibrated the very core of me.
I very quickly gave myself a delicious, dribbly orgasm, with jerky little aftershocks as I kept the toy deep inside me and rolled it around my walls with my hands. Before my pulsing contractions had finished, I pulled the vibe out, bringing a final little squirt, which was caught by the towel I had under my bum. When you are as wet as I am, you always need to have a towel.
I sighed, contentedly, then nipped into the bathroom for a pee and a quick shower, then returned to the bedroom to dress. I was still feeling a little horny, but I made myself wait for Roo to arrive. It was Friday morning and she was coming over in the afternoon. I had no lectures today, so I didn't need to go into uni. I could spend my time however I liked.
I stood in front of the mirror again as I put on my undies, and I pulled my knickers up very tight into my pussy, just to admire the shape my vulva made through the fabric. Mm, cute. Then I put on my bra and brushed my fingers over my nipples, making them stand out, tenting the fabric. I may not be the most gorgeous, voluptuous woman, but I do know what sexy is, and I love being it. Sexy, I mean. I gave myself a nudge and snapped out of this self-absorbed reverie.
I dressed and went down to make myself some breakfast. Mum and Dad were out shopping, so I indulged myself and made French toast, using a fruit loaf with sultanas and orange peel, dusted with icing sugar. Very indulgent. I don't particularly have a sweet tooth, but just sometimes...
Anyway, it was scrumptious, and after a cup of coffee, I took myself off into the studio to do some practicing. I needed to step up if I wasn't to be overshadowed by my new bandmates.
We'd been rehearsing every Saturday for a few weeks now, and we already had a decent song list. Mum and Dad said our sound was already 'really tight,' and it wouldn't be long before we could start gigging. I still felt a little awed by my bandmates though, and had an acute sense of needing to improve.
I practiced the main riff from Joanne Shaw Taylor's "White Sugar," which is a little tricky to get just right. I couldn't believe Jemma could play this at the age of 12.
I also did some vocal practice; my voice is quite high - it's nothing like Mads' syrupy tones - but it suits certain songs. Actually, it was a good thing our voices were so different. It made it easier to decide who sang what.
I was singing to a backing track, belting out Gossip's "Standing in the Way of Control," when the door opened and Dad walked in, grinning from ear to ear. He walked over to me and just gave me the biggest, squeeziest hug. 'You sound great, Spark (he sometimes calls me that). Really fantastic.'
'Thanks Dad,' I said, hugging him back.
'I think your band is going to be great. It seems to be coming together really well. Not many bands start off like this. I know my first one didn't.'
'Aww, thanks Dad,' I said again. 'That means a lot, coming from you.
We picked up our guitars and started jamming, just playing along with each other. There was no song initially, just a rhythmic rocking vibe, but it morphed into The Chootes song "Coco Fire" and Dad started singing. Usually, Lindi would do the harmonies with him, but I know that song so well I had no trouble picking up Lindi's parts.
I don't know why, but I found this experience very emotional. Playing and singing with my dad. We used to do it a lot when I was little, but this was the first time in years, and it brought tears to my eyes. When we finished, he grinned and hugged me again, our guitars clashing discordantly as we embraced, and I swear his eyes were a little misty too. Some quality daddy-daughter bonding was going on, that's for sure.
Back in the house, over lunch, I sounded Mum and Dad out over an idea I had. There is a second house on the same plot as ours. It's an old cottage that has been there since before the bigger house was built. When we bought the big house, the cottage was in a dilapidated state, and it stayed like that for a while, but then Dad decided to get it completely renovated, with the intention of using it as a guest house. He thought band members could stay there when they were recording etc. but in fact, once it was finished it was hardly used, and it was just sitting there empty, down near the end of the drive. It looked great, but it was a bit of a folly, really.
My idea was that we could rent it to Roo - if she wanted. It would get her away from that seedy area of Hornchurch, and it would also bring her closer to me -- so my motives were not entirely altruistic.
Mum and Dad listened to my proposal and Dad looked thoughtful. Mum looked at him and shrugged slightly. 'I can see why you'd want Roo to be close by, that's natural, but I have two issues with it,' he said. 'Firstly, it's still early days for you two. I know it's all very new and exciting, but you don't really know if this relationship is going to endure.' I started to protest, but he stopped me. 'I'm just being cautious Pet. You know how your enthusiasm tends to run away with you.'
I knew he was right, but I still didn't want to hear it. In my mind, Roo and I were already solid as a rock. There was no point in arguing though. I could tell that. 'What's the second issue?'
'Well, I know we don't use the cottage much, but it's still handy to have it there if we have guests.'
I'd already considered this objection though - 'Yes, but I could say to Roo that if we do have guests coming, she could temporarily vacate the cottage and move into one of the spare rooms in the house,... or share with me, like she does at weekends.'