You have all been so patient with me, and yet I still tease. Wicked Naughty Badgirl, no cookie for you...
Two Minutes To Curtain
She wouldn't look, wouldn't look, not yet. Sara inhaled and twisted the silky garment around, before she reached behind to do up the last few hooks at the back. Putting on these things by yourself was a bitch and a half; she felt another surge of gratitude for Rosalind, who had shown her the trick of doing it. Leaning forward Sara wiggled like a spastic cheerleader, making sure her breasts were firmly in the cups.
"Impressive…" Sara looked down at the smooth plump mounds of her breasts, the merry widow lifted them up to brave new heights they'd never achieved before, the engineering of the thing was really quite marvelous. They almost looked a whole size bigger and the tiny swell of her belly, a figure flaw she'd grown to accept and even admire for it's stubborn refusal to diminish no matter how many sit-ups she did, was flattened and contained behind the satin panels and boning. She checked her watch. Time was flying, getting gussied up sure took a lot of time out of a woman's day. Thank god this wasn't an everyday thing she'd have to do. She didn't think she could stand it. Sara had a whole new appreciation for Gloria Steinem.
Her fingers fumbled on the straps of the garters. Dammit, she could recite the periodic table from memory and take apart a car but could she do this? She slowed down and tried to catch the sheer fabric of the stockings again. Finally she straightened, taking shallow breaths in the snug confines of the merry widow and stepped carefully into the shiny black patent three-inch heels she'd bought, back pain and bunions be dammed. She wobbled and clutched her dresser to steady herself. Once she had her balance, Sara stepped tentatively forward, she felt like she was going to pitch forward and break her leg or something, how the hell had Catherine danced in these things, when she could barely walk?
The trick seemed to be to thrust her weight forward from her hips, a decidedly odd sensation and one that did disturbing things to her normally straightforward loping stride. She kind of wiggled now when she walked.
Wiggling and wobbling she teetered over to the mirror and finally had a look.
She paused for one long minute, and then smiled. The triumphant grin was at odds with the towering sex kitten she saw in the mirror, all long legs, smooth white skin, and sexy black satin. Sara primped and fluffed her hair; the torture of the hot rollers had been worth it. She may not have the trademark Bettie Page bangs, but the soft waves of curls weren't a bad facsimile.
"Anyway, considering the money I've spent, he shouldn't even notice the hair." Sara risked putting one of her hands on her hips, so far so good. She aimed for a more blatant cheesecake pose, legs spread, hips cocked, cleavage on display. She lurched forward and grabbed the footboard of the bed. That was close; she'd almost brained herself. She could just imagine what would happen if Greg found her knocked out cold in this get-up. She'd best find a stationary position and wait for Greg there.
She clambered carefully onto the bed, then kicking off her shoes, she slid down and repositioned the mirror so she could see herself, she climbed back on and put the heels on again, and draped her limbs in a suitably seductive manner, checking all the angles in the mirror.
Satisfied she didn't look like too much of a dork. She leaned back against the bank of pillows she'd piled on the bed and waited for Greg. Her feverish brain mentally listed all of the things she'd meant to do; candles? Check and not the crappy white emergency ones either, but actual nice ones from a store, scented even. Sara could hear the radio playing soft dreamy jazz, she'd given up on finding a radio station for that at this hour and just put a Miles Davis CD on repeat. There was a nice bottle of wine in the fridge and Sara had made arrangements to get sushi delivered later. Cooking for Greg on top of wearing this was a bit much, even if she did like the guy. Her jaws widened in a yawn, she was already up past her normal "bedtime". She'd meant to nap, but had just run out of time. Sara decided she'd just rest her eyes for a few minutes while she waited, Greg should be along any moment…
You all know what's coming next, right?
--Badgirl