On the drive to Allie's townhouse, I called home to tell my mom I'd be staying at Allie's. I'd let her know that Allie and I were stopping for dinner and drinks when we went to the bar to talk. I made up a story about a guy hitting on Allie and sending her drinks, and Allie having a couple drinks too many as a result. I said I was driving her home and that I'd stop by in the morning to change my clothes. Allie had told mom stories about her experiences with guys in bars before, so mom didn't think to question it.
Mom said, "Well I'm proud of you for being responsible and staying sober. Tell your cousin to take some Tylenol and drink a lot of water before she goes to bed. And make sure she has a clear path to the toilet."
When we got to Allie's place, she kicked off her heels as soon as she was in the door and grabbed my hand to drag me off to her bedroom. I pulled up and said, "Wait a minute. Are we here to fuck, or are we here so I can show you how guys should be making love to you?"
The determined look that had been on Allie's face faded, and she looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time. I took her hands in mine and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned and said, "I know you've got some wine around here. Why don't you make yourself comfortable while I get us a bottle."
Allie asked me, "Can I get changed first?"
I asked her, "Is that what you would do if you had just invited a guy who you weren't sure you were going to sleep with in for a drink?"
She said, "You bet I would. After fourteen hours in this bra, I need to give the girls a little breathing room. And a pencil skirt and underwire bra really get in the way if things do go in a more promising direction."
With that, Allie disappeared into her bedroom and I made my way to the kitchen.
Allie loves to entertain, so I'd hung out at her place a lot. That made it easy to find two wine glasses and a bottle of cabernet that I know is one of her favorites. I opened the wine and carried it to the sofa with the two glasses. As I was starting to pour us each a glass, I heard the bedroom door behind me open.
As I turned to look, I heard Allie say, "Alexa, relax."
The table lamps at either end of the sofa came on, emitting soft, yellow light. Wall sconces that looked like antique filament lamps came on and the overhead lights went out. The fireplace turned on and soft jazz music began playing.
Allie had changed into a pair of soft cotton shorts and a well-worn, lightweight hoody that clung just enough to draw attention to her D-cups. It didn't escape my attention that the neck was ripped far enough to show the edges of a sheer, lacy bra. The top didn't quite reach her shorts, so I caught glimpses of her toned abs as she walked. The bra she'd put on gave her breasts a lot of freedom to move, so I had to remind myself not to stare at the mesmerizing sway of her tits as she took the few steps around the sofa.
I stood as she came around and was reminded how tiny she really is. She claims to be five foot one, but is actually five even, give or take a fraction of an inch. The family joke is that you can't measure yourself en pointe, referring to Allie's passion for ballet.
Allie had been a serious ballet student through high school, but she had to quit when all the dance schools she applied to told her in roundabout ways that D-cups have no place in the world of professional ballet. She thought about breast reduction surgery, but her family didn't have the money. Her mom and sister also pointed out that there were a lot of other things that could derail a ballet career and asked her if it was worth it to her to have drastic surgery for a longshot bet.
Allie still practices ballet on her own. She has a friend who owns a dance studio and let's Allie come in to work out in exchange for filling in every now and then for absent teachers. I've seen her stand on her toes momentarily in bare feet. It's an amazing athletic feat, and it makes her legs and ass look totally hot.
Allie wears stilettos or platform heels to work, and usually wears her hair up. She claims it's because she looks both hot and professional dressed like that. However, she'd once confessed during a traffic delay on our commute that she dresses the way she does because the people she works with didn't take her seriously when she wore petite styles and more sensible shoes.
Now, with her hair down over her shoulders, standing in bare feet, she looked adorable. She looked like I remember her from when she was heading off to college and I was a boy just going through puberty who had a huge crush on her.
I took her hands and invited her to sit to my left as I sat down on the edge of the sofa and finished pouring the wine. She curled up with her feet under her, facing towards me, making her look even more vulnerable and delicious.
I handed her the wine and as we sat there sipping it, we talked about all the mundane things that were part of our normal conversations.
I wanted this to have more of a first date feel, so I changed direction as I poured us each a second glass of wine. I'd known her all my life, but on the drive home I'd thought of a million things I didn't know about her. I started asking her about her life growing up, her career, her family, and all the other things people talk about on a first date. She caught on to what I was doing, and we had a fun conversation.
After a bit, I asked her, "Why did you swipe right?"
That caught her off guard, but she recovered and said, "You're smile looked cute. You sounded smart and funny. I love tall guys. And I like what you said about wanting your partner to experience as much joy as you do."
Then she asked me, "So why did you swipe right?"
I gave her a smirk and said, "I'm not going to lie. The full-length picture was a winner."
Allie gave me a playful slap and called me a jerk.