A Night to Remember

My therapist says that if I explain a little about myself before I start this, then maybe I'll start to understand how all of this happened to me. It's a kinda long story, so I hope you'll bear with me. I'll be as quick as I can.

First, you need to know a little bit about me. In grammar school, I had the misfortune to have exceptionally large boobs. By the sixth grade I was already spilling completely out of a B cup and was otherwise skinny as a scarecrow. Only a girl who has experienced this knows just how awful that is. I have always been real pretty with naturally blonde hair, but all that anyone ever noticed were these enormous breasts on this skinny child. I was teased and grabbed at constantly, and of course everyone told terrible lies about me. The girls said I was easy, and all the high school guys bragged about how many times they did me and stuff like that. Believe me, nobody had ever even gotten to second base with me! Maybe because of the way I looked, I was scared to death of sex, which makes what happened later really strange.

By high school, I was wearing a D cup, but the rest of my body had at last caught up with my boobs. I finally had hips and a shapely little derriere (my best asset, I still think), which was greatly accentuated by my fortunately very tiny waist. My legs stayed long and slender. Guys called me "Barbie Doll." I guess I was popular in high school, but because of all that ugliness from the past I was still kind of shy, too, and thanks to my mother, so terribly afraid of getting pregnant that I got the reputation of being frigid, which I certainly was not. I dreamed about it all the time and fantasized about lots of guys, especially some of my teachers. I wasn't sexually active, however. So even though I was popular, I didn't really have a lot of dates, though guys would flirt with me and stuff.

There was this one guy, Bill, who my mother thought would be perfect for me, though he was a little older. He worked with her at the video store, and she'd just go on and on about how sweet he was and how handsome and polite and everything. He was all that, true, but he really wasn't my type in looks or personality. I suppose the thing that ended up actually attracting me to him was that he didn't press me to have sex. In fact, while we were dating, we hardly even made out much, not seriously anyway. I mean he would kiss me and feel my breasts through my blouse, and I could feel him get hard and everything, but he had a lot of self control. That's a good thing, because, even though he wasn't really my type, I really, really wanted it.and that just scared me to death. I thought for sure I was just this awful whore. (The therapist I've been seeing says that, at the time, I had a very high, but completely repressed sex drive. The therapist is the one who suggested I write this story, by the way.)

I married Bill right after graduation. I don't know why, really. At twenty-four, he was six years older than me and like I said not really the kind of guy I'm usually attracted to. Bill had a slender, almost effeminate build, and I've always been most attractive to more manly guys, and he was definitely not the assertive type. Most of his friends were either gay or real "sensitive" guys. He's not gay, I'm pretty sure, but he doesn't like the things other guys do, like sports and stuff, and he is pretty timid, especially around older men. I was always telling him that he should be more assertive, especially at work. He'd agree with me, but never was. It's just wasn't in his nature, I guess.

The other thing that's so strange is that he didn't have the personality that I'm really most attracted to, either. I really, really like strong, dominate men, the kind that Bill was so shy around. I remember when I was in the sixth grade and was visiting my dad at his office. We were going to go have lunch together that day and I had gone up to meet him. When he introduced me to his boss, I could see how nervous my dad was around him. I'll never forget what happened next. Just as we were getting ready to leave, his boss, Mr. Archer, told my dad to go get him and his secretary a cup of coffee before he left. I could see how embarrassed-humiliated, really-my dad was. When Daddy left to get the coffee, Mr. Archer turned to me and put his hand in my hair and told me how very pretty I was and what a great figure I had. He called me "sexy." God, it just sent shivers down me. I think that was the day I first became sexually aware, and I have never forgotten it. There was just something about him. He seemed just so awesomely powerful. He made the man I always thought was really strong (my dad) look so small and weak, but instead of being upset, I was excited by it. I had my first erotic dream about my dad's boss.

So why did I marry Bill? I really don't know. The truth is, I really didn't want to get married right away, but he was so insistent, and my Mom liked him so much that there was just so much pressure to do it that I did. I don't regret it really, I guess, except maybe the part about not having been with many guys. Not any, really, except Bill. I was a virgin when we got married. I think maybe he was too. He wasn't a very experienced lover, I know now.

A month or so after we got married, we moved from Georgia to California where an old high school friend of Bill's, Tim Martin, was working at a car dealership in San Diego, a place called "Rancher Motors." He was the only one of his friends that I ever met who was at all "manly." When we met in Georgia, I could tell he kind of liked me, and it was actually nice that one of Bill's friends had the courage to come on to me a little bit. He actually kissed me once. It was very flattering, really. I kissed him back, too. I think he was surprised at my reaction. So was I!

I don't know why he invited Bill out to California-they didn't seem that close to me- but he did, and after some talk about "fresh starts" and stuff, we decided to give it a try.

We got a little apartment near the beach, and Tim got Bill on as a junior salesman at the dealership. He did pretty well. For some reason, maybe his "sensitivity," he was especially good at selling cars to older women. Whenever an obvious widow would come in, she would be given to Bill, though the funny thing is, he was never allowed to close the deals. Mr. Brooks, who's the general sales manager, always ended up changing the contract terms. It used to embarrass Bill that he had to take back what he promised the women, but he never said anything to Mr. Brooks, of course. The funny thing is that the women always ended up feeling sorry for Bill, so they signed on to really bad deals because they didn't want to make him more uncomfortable, I think.

Bill hadn't been there long before we got invited to Mr. Brooks's house for a swim party and barbecue. I didn't know what to expect, so I was pretty shocked to see the way the women dressed for this party. I had just turned nineteen, and I guess living all that time in rural Georgia, I was pretty na‹ve. I thought maybe this is the way people dress in California. One girl in particular, Maggie, who is married to a young guy named Brad, who at that time was also a junior salesman, really shocked me. She had on a little sarong wrap that she wore way down low on her hips and this tiny little string bikini top that didn't leave anything at all to the imagination. She was blonde, maybe a little older than me, and had a good figure, but I didn't think she was all that pretty. Kind of hard looking, if you ask me. But the guys, omigawd, they were all over her, especially Mr. Brooks, the sales manager. And it was obvious that she didn't mind. Not at all. When we got home, even Bill commented on how hot she looked. That really surprised me. He usually doesn't notice that kind of thing.

Later that summer, we were all invited to Mr. Brooks's club for a dinner dance. This time, Maggie showed up in this semi see-through dress, backless with a cowl neck that dipped clear down to her navel. She did look good, I must admit, and she seemed so confident with all the attention she attracted. For the first time, I questioned my own taste and wished I had the courage to dress like that. I knew I had the figure for it, but I guess no one else would really know that from the way I dressed. I was still pretty conservative in that respect. Maybe it even bothered me a little bit that Mr. Brooks spent nearly the entire evening dancing with her. (To be honest, I had developed a little bit of a crush on him. Well, maybe more than a little! I often fantasized about being with him and on two occasions I had very erotic dreams about him. )

Looking around, I noticed that even though some of the wives of the younger guys were pretty and two had really fantastic figures that they were not exactly modest about, it was Maggie that attracted all the notice. When she walked around, you wondered how she could keep herself in her dress. She seemed constantly on the verge of spilling completely out of it. But I also noticed that guys' eyes never left her.

A month after the dinner dance, Maggie's husband, Brad, got promoted, and even worse, became Bill's immediate supervisor, the one who approved all his deals. I know that bothered him a lot that Brad got the promotion that he thought he should have had, and really would have if it had been based on sales performance alone. It was particularly hard because Brad is about three years younger than Bill and has no college credits at all. Bill almost has his AA degree. But I guess that's the way life is.

A couple of weeks after that, Bill came home and told me that Mr. Brooks had pulled him aside that day and complimented him on what a pretty wife he had, but had added that it's too bad she keeps herself so covered up! This is California, he'd said! She needs to loosen up a bit, get with the flow! I was pretty shocked and even embarrassed when Bill told me that. Like I said, I really, really liked Mr. Brooks. He's in his late forties, I guess, and not really that good looking, but he's a real big guy and I just loved the way he carried himself. He seemed so strong and assertive, the kind of guy who demands and gets respect. I knew Bill was scared to death of him. I definitely didn't want him to think I was a prude or anything, but still I thought what he said was kind of out of line. I didn't say anything, though, and Bill never said anything else about it either, so I never did know what he thought. I mean I think we both kind of thought that Brad got promoted because his wife was doing Mr. Brooks, though we never ever actually said that to each other or knew if it was true. I even tried to joke about it that week, saying stuff like, "I ought to go to the next party naked so you can be Brad's boss," but I could see that Bill was kind of bothered by it all.

I had more or less completely forgotten about Mr. Brooks's remark when, about four months later, Bill told me that we were invited to a house warming and Christmas party at Mr. Brooks's new house, where we'd have the chance to meet the owner of the dealership, Mr. Rancher himself. Because this was going to be a really special party, I asked if I could go and buy myself a new dress, and he said "Yeah, that would be okay," and I said laughingly "Maybe I should buy the kind of outfit Maggie would wear."

"That's probably a good idea," Bill said sort of sarcastically, "It sure couldn't hurt my career."

His remark upset me just a little, tiny bit, like he was saying I wasn't attractive enough or sexy enough or something, I don't know. Anyway, those ideas were in my head when I went shopping the next day.

Walking by what I always thought of as a sort of sleazy dress shop downtown, an outfit displayed in the window caught my eye. I guess it was supposed to be a formal cocktail dress, but omigawd, it was so revealing that it hardly covered anything. It was so outrageous that I was actually kind of embarrassed to just be standing there looking at it. It was a black, very clingy, backless dress, almost see-through, with a tiny little halter top front that left more than half of outside of the manikin's breast exposed . It enhanced its sexiness with slit down the entire front. The floor-length skirt had a slit matching the one on top which went all the way to the top of the thigh. It was an outrageously sexy gown, if you could call it that. I thought immediately that it would be such a funny trick to play on Bill to buy it and tell him that this is what I was wearing to the party, so I went in and asked to try it on.

There were only a few of the gowns on the racks, one that was a size too small and several that were much too large, so I tried on the small one. Omigawd, it fit me like a glove-a very tight glove, I must say-and was the most scandalous thing I had ever worn, by far!! Like on the manikin, the outsides of my breasts were completely exposed, but since my boobs are a lot bigger than the manikin's, the slit in the front of the top became absolutely astonishing once I slipped it on and filled it out. Much more of my breasts were exposed than covered-much, much more! The slit in the top revealed all of my midriff clear down to well below my navel. The skirt itself was fastened together by four hook-and-eye buttons that barely reached down past the top of my thigh where the slit in the skirt began. All that stood between me and total exposure was a tiny tie on the back of the halter top and those four little buttons! To say that it was intensely sexy was really to understate.

The second I tried it on I felt this enormous change in me. I felt sexy and alluring and omigawd so much like a woman! It was like the dress transformed me into a completely different person. I loved the way I looked and even more, the way I felt. God, I wanted so much to wear it in public, but how could I? It would be like wearing a sign that said, "Please fuck me!" The skirt was so tight I could hardly walk, but when I did I was astonished at the amount of leg that flashed out. Even buttoned, the slit in the middle of the skirt opened up dramatically, exposing my legs to the very top of my thigh when I walked. The skirt was far too tight and way too sheer to wear panties without showing ugly panty lines, but you certainly couldn't not wear them either! It would be like walking around completely naked! But standing still and looking in the mirror, I had to admit that the total effect was truly sensational. I had never had the courage to flaunt my body, and now I wondered why. I looked absolutely stunning. My body never looked so perfectly sculpted, and I know I had never worn anything in my life that fit me so provocatively or that made me feel so terribly sensuous. I suddenly didn't care what it cost. I wanted it.

I bought the dress and hid it away.

It turned out that Bill had to work until 8:00 on Christmas eve, the night of the party, so I had plenty of time to plan my little joke. (My therapist says that I've been lying to myself about its being a "joke." He's probably right. But this is my story, so I'll tell it the was I want.) I hardly ever drink, but that night I had a couple of vodka collins and took a long, leisurely bath. While shaving my legs silky smooth, I decided for some reason to shave completely. I don't have much pubic hair anyway and I've always kept it really closely trimmed besides, so it wasn't really a big deal, but the funny thing is that the process of shaving got me so, so turned on that I felt right on the verge of a spontaneous climax. I resisted, though, because if Bill got all turned on seeing me in my sultry new cocktail dress, he might want to use me. Since he's so stressed at work that he's rarely in the mood anymore, I wanted to be ready if he was. And just maybe, since I was ovulating at the time, we would make the baby we'd been trying to have for over a year now. What a great Christmas present that would be!

Drying myself and putting on my makeup (and having another vodka collins), I don't think I ever looked as stunning.or as totally, totally naked. I was amazed and terribly pleased at how sleek my body looked totally shaved! I decided right there that I would always keep myself that way. (And I have.)

I did my eyes really dramatically and even wore these luscious false eyelashes that I have been so tempted to try in the past. I was so glad I did; they made my eyes look so sultry and alluring. I tried a bunch of different lip shades and finally settled on a very deep ruby that seemed to complement my eyes. I had gotten my hair highlighted and done in a short spiky cut the week before and it just seemed absolutely perfect for this outfit. I love being blonde!

I slipped on a pair of very sheer black thigh high stockings and a pair of four-inch stiletto heels with a sexy ankle strap that I had bought last summer but never worn, and stood there and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a little tipsy, true, and my judgment was a little muddled, but I just knew I had never been put together quite so perfectly. My breasts were impossibly full, my waist seemed wasp thin, and in those wonderful shoes, my legs just looked so perfectly long and shapely. I know it's just so awfully vain to say so, but honestly, I have never looked so striking.

It was just a few minutes before 8:00 when I slipped into that scandalous dress. For some reason I was very nervous when I put it on. When I turned and looked at myself in the mirror, I literally lost my breath. The gown was much more stunning and seemed even more revealing than it had been in the store. Maybe because, like I said, I was ovulating, which always makes my breasts nearly a cup size larger, I was spilling out of the dress. The skirt hugged my ass and showed its sultry shape to perfection. The flash of white flesh above my thigh highs when I walked would be intriguingly flirtatious, I knew. I looked fantastic.and totally available. I hoped Bill would agree.

A little past 8:00 I heard the door open and Bill walk back toward the bedroom where I was waiting in what I thought would be a titillating, but funny pose. Bill just stopped dead in his tracks. "My God," he said, looking at me as if stunned. "You look so, I don't know.hot, I guess!" he stuttered. "What's got into you?"

"Well, I hope you will," I said laughing. "Do you like it?" I sort of purred sexily. "Do you think you'll get the next promotion?" I added, sticking my chest out and pulling the skirt back.

I don't even think he heard me. "Wow! You really do look great," was all he could stammer out. "You're going to kill them at Mr. Brooks's party! He'll love it," he said, hesitating nervously.

"You silly," I giggled. "I'm not going out in this. I'd be arrested!"

"You're not?" he asked.

I was puzzled by his reaction. I couldn't really tell by his tone of voice if he was disappointed or relieved. I got the feeling that he wanted to please Mr. Brooks and that he was willing to use me to get his approval, but at the same time was afraid of what might happen.

"You mean you'd want me to?" I said quizzically.

"I don't know. I guess so. I mean, why not? I guess all the other guys' wives dress like that, don't they."

"Well, maybe not quite like this, Bill," I said, laughing as I walked across the room to him, showing the full length of my leg and, I was convinced, probably a glimpse of my freshly shaved pussy as well. "I practically fall out of the dress when I move."

"Well, you could just be careful when you walk, couldn't you? Everybody will probably love you in it, Mindy. I know Mr. Brooks will."

Now I really was confused. The last comment made me recall Mr. Brooks's earlier remark. Did he really think I was a prude? Does Bill think I caused him to lose that promotion because I wasn't sexy enough? Alcohol was clouding my thinking, it was true, but I still suspected that the answer to those questions was "Yes!" and I decided then and there that maybe I should go to Mr. Brooks's just like I was. What could it hurt?