This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
Chapter One – Halloween Party
Tingling with excitement, I eased into my oversized shower. I’d been counting the hours until it was time to get ready. I couldn’t believe our good fortune. I didn’t know what, but I sensed something fantastic was about to happen.
My friend Danielle and I were facing what could be the chance of a lifetime. She’d finagled an invite to the annual Halloween costume party at the Fairmont Country Club for herself and a friend—and lucky me, I was the friend. In a few short hours, we would be hobnobbing with the elite of Westwood and Beverly Hills. Maybe even a movie star or two. Wouldn’t it be something if Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt asked me to dance? Oh that’s right. They’re both taken. After turning off the water, I was shivering, so I wrapped a large towel around myself. The idea of rubbing elbows with the rich and famous had me so revved up, I was actually getting aroused from drying myself off. Patting my breasts with the bath sheet, I thought about the party. As I wiped the soft towel over the area between my thighs, my mind wandered to Brad Pitt again. What would it be like to make love to someone as handsome as he? Angelina Jolie isn’t any better looking than I am—is she? I let the towel fall and viewed myself in the partially fogged mirror. I wasn’t able to make my image out well, but I was quite familiar with the person in the reflection. Five seven, long shapely legs, blue-green eyes and long, dark brown—almost black—wavy hair surrounded a pretty oval face. Taking a Kleenex, I wiped the mirror, which allowed me to see the reflection clearer. Much better. As I scrutinized my breasts my thoughts drifted to Troy, my photographer, friend and confidant, who had told me I had exceptional breasts. Medium, high on my chest, with silver dollar sized pink areolas and usually protruding nipples. I had to admit I was pleased with them. But exceptional? He was, after all, a good friend and that’s what friends do—build up your ego. At least that’s what they should do if they’re really your friend. Besides, he was gay. What did he know about women’s breasts, he was probably more interested in those things men had. I laughed, realizing we had something in common, because I too, was interested in those things. What a shame Troy was gay, because I could just smother him. He was so fantastic looking that my sex turned to jell-o when I saw his lean frame with sandy blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. He was funny, intelligent and one of the best photographers in the business. I was lucky to have him as a friend. What a disaster when we first met. I was putty in his hands. Not usually a forward person, I came on to him like gangbusters. “Would you like to go have a drink some time and who knows…?” I still can’t believe I had actually said that. Bless his heart, he laughed and let me down softly—as softly as he knew how. “January, sweetheart, I would love to have a drink with you but let me warn you about the who knows—I am a homosexual!” Startled, I thoughtlessly insulted him. “Really? You don’t look gay.” “Really? Tell me,” he chuckled, “I’m curious. How does a gay man look?” I felt a flush creep my neck and then I retracted, “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I meant to say you don’t act gay.” Beautiful Troy, threw his head back and chortled. Recovering and gazing at me, a sparkle in his eye, he said, “I’ll accept that. Many gays act effeminate.” He went on to explain, “I would prefer that I was heterosexual. And if I were, believe me, you would be right in my sights. You are beautiful, clever, have a darling shape, including the loveliest breasts I have ever beheld and to top it off, you even laugh at my corny jokes. The problem is and I don’t mean to offend you, seeing Rob Lowe in swimming trunks turns
me on more than photographing you in the buff would. I wish it were the other way around but it isn’t.” Laughing tentatively, I decided I liked Troy, gay or not. “I noticed you didn’t say seeing me naked wouldn’t turn you on at all?” “January, you are a beautiful woman, not to mention your body is top notch. I’m a fashion photographer and I admire beauty—male and female. Could I make love to you? Maybe—no, probably! Could I make love with Rob Lowe, assuming he was gay? In a heartbeat! Even if I could and did make love to you, there’s no future in it. There’s no promise of a house with a picket fence and four little rug-rats.” After the shoot, Troy did have that drink with me. I’d talked him into sleeping with me, and that was the beginning of a warm loving platonic relationship. The sex was a disaster. I didn’t know what to do to please him and neither did he. He climaxed but I didn’t. At least not from intercourse. “Jan, I have a confession to make. I think in my previous life, I was a woman. The paperwork got screwed up somewhere and I came out of the womb with a penis. I think I still have that woman’s sexual appetite. I’m afraid she was a loose horny bitch that liked men, because that’s me. Here you are, simply gorgeous, so exquisite, you even got me hard and made me climax. It did feel great being inside you, but it isn’t fair to you. You see, I wasn’t picturing myself making love to you. While I was stroking you, I was picturing some strapping, great looking guy.” I’d felt a tinge of anger but repressed it. I really had no reason to be mad. He had been forthright with me. I initiated the seduction and talked him into bed, knowing he was gay. “And you know what January? If that paperwork hadn’t been lost, I’d be screwing your socks off and digging the shit out of it.” I laughed loudly. Troy was always making me laugh. He was so quirky and good looking. Why did he have to be gay? That was two years ago, when I had first moved to Southern California. Nevertheless, we grew very close and closer each day. I snapped out of my reverie. The party was foremost on my mind. Still in front of the mirror and still cupping my breasts, I removed my hands and turned sideways for one last glance. Not bad. Getting and staying like this is a lot of hard work, but it’s worth it. Breasts jutting out, tummy was yummy with just a hint of curvature. Nice tight ass. Just wished it stuck out just a little more. It wasn’t flat but it didn’t stretch my jeans the way I thought it should. Enough, I have to fix my hair, apply makeup and get into my costume. Danielle will be here in ninety minutes. I need to hurry. **** I looked out the peephole. It was Danielle, but I wasn’t sure until she said, “It’s me —Danielle.” I hastily opened the door, grabbed Danielle’s arm and yanked her in. “Hurry, before somebody sees you.” “Oww, Jan! What’s with you? You nearly jerked my arm out of its socket.” “I didn’t want the neighbors to see my naked visitor, that’s what.”
“I’m not naked. This is my costume.” She turned around and asked, “What do you think?” I had to admit, Danielle looked sexy as hell. She was wearing a cobalt blue thong, matching high heels and a couple dozen strategically placed peacock feathers, including a peacock mask and headdress, her long wavy red hair draping behind. She even had a miniature peacock tail. The rest of her costume was masterfully applied body paint in a peacock design. Danielle literally looked like a naked peacock woman. Apparently, Danielle missed the look of shock on my face, because she turned another three-sixty and once again asked, “Well, what do you think?” Her tail brushed my legs. “Whoa, you’re going to have to watch that tail, girl.” I laughed. “Sorry.” Moving up and down as if jumping she repeated her question. “I’m waiting. What do you think?” I didn’t want to hurt my friend’s feelings. “It certainly is unique.” Her eyes thinned, visible even through the headdress. “All the trouble I went through with this costume and that’s the best you can say—unique? Do you realize that I had to sit for three hours, virtually naked while the artist—who was a good looking guy by the way—painted every part of me? I feel like I was ravaged by Van Gogh.” I cocked my head, placed my hands on my hips and smirked. “Hmmm. Actually, Danielle you look splendid. You look ultra-sexy. So much so that you would fit right in a topless club, but aren’t you a little underdressed for a costume party? It’s too bad we’re not going to a strip joint. You’d knock them dead.” Danielle threw her head backward. “Well. I intend to knock them dead at the party. I plan to win the award for the sexiest costume.” I stared at the ceiling in frustration. “But Danny, you… are… naked, except for that skimpy thong.” “Humph! I may be nude, but the feathers and paint hide that pretty well.” I pointed at her left nipple. “Really? I can still see your breasts, your nipples and your navel. True the paint and feathers help, but the bottom line is, you’re naked and everyone will know it.” Annoyance flashed in Danielle’s eyes, for a second, and then it was gone. She looked at me and frowned, as if noticing me for the first time. “What are you?” I was wearing an olive green leotard with small translucent wings and a ultra short beige miniskirt. The wings had gold stars embedded. “I’m Tinker Bell.” “Hmmm. Wasn’t Tinker Bell this big.” Danielle held her thumb and forefinger about three inches apart. “Picky, picky. That’s in Neverland. We’re in Paradise Lost, home of massive traffic jams, drive-by shootings, perennial smog alerts, mud slides and forest fires. Here, Tinker Bell is five-seven and weighs one-fifteen.” “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you have too much clothing on to enter the sexy costume contest, we could probably make a few modifications and get you showing a lot more skin. You have a lovely figure and you owe it to the world to show it off.” “I don’t want to show off my body. What’s so important about this contest anyway?” Danielle’s eyes danced excitedly. “Last year, a virtually unknown wore a dress with
the breasts and rear cut out and won the award.” Danielle got a half there grin and her eyes clouded up. “She later appeared in a major movie opposite Robert De Niro.” “Gee, what movie was that? Was she the leading lady?” “Well, no. She played a waitress, waiting on him, but she had two minutes and said seven words. It’s a start. Every year the winner seems to land a part and sometimes the second and third place winners do too. I intend to enter that contest tonight and win, even if I have to sleep with a judge. That’s why I’m showing off the goodies.” I hadn’t seen the other entrants, but I had to admit, for unadulterated sexiness, Danielle’s would be hard to beat. “I don’t see how anyone could beat you for sexiest costume, unless it’s rigged.” “I don’t think it is. Now, why don’t we see what we can do to make Tinker Bell come in second place?” Buy Link : http://tinyurl.com/5hm5fn
This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
We've moved you to where you read on your other device.
Get the full title to continue reading from where you left off, or restart the preview.