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Stripping out of my shirt and jeans, I leave my panties on while unclasping my bra. Then I pull on the frothy pale pink thong before clasping the bra and sliding it into place. I would expect the material to feel scratchy and uncomfortable. Surprisingly, it doesn’t. It’s actually quite comfortable. Almost holding my breath, I lift my eyes to the large mirror in the little box of a room before forcing myself to take a long look.
God, this makes me… it almost makes me…
Before I can fully wrap my mind around what I’m seeing, Lexie barges into the room without knocking or giving me any damn warning at all. I’m so struck by the sight in front of me, that I don’t bother covering myself. And, well, it’s not like she hasn’t seen me naked a hundred times before. We’ve been friends since fourth grade and lived together freshman year. We both have the same equipment. Although granted, Lexie is much softer and feminine looking than I am.
Her feet grind to a halt in the open doorway before her eyes nearly pop right out of her head. “Oh my god, you look amazing,” she finally breathes.
I can’t help the way my lips bow up at the compliment. I’m not usually one to self-congratulate myself or anything like that but, I think she just might be right. Because even I think the pale pink bra and panty set is absolutely gorgeous.
And it makes me look-
“I can’t believe it- you actually have tits and an ass!” This is stated with much exaggeration as if she wasn’t quite sure before this very moment.
I smother a chuckle as I turn this way and that, trying to check out this apparent ass I now have. Getting a good look in the mirror, I can’t help but notice that she’s right.
I have an ass!
I’m the proud owner of a bootie.
A passing sales girl stops before taking a look at me. “Oh, honey, you’d better buy that little number, the man in your life will thank you for it.” She gives me a cheeky grin before moving on.
Unfortunately that comment is all the reminder I need not to buy this gorgeous little set. I mean, why would I? I don’t have a man in my life. And I can’t see that changing any time soon.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Lexie begins. When my eyes shoot to hers in silent question, she continues, “You don’t need a man in order to treat yourself to something that makes you feel beautiful and sexy.” She flicks her hand in my direction. “And obviously that stunning piece of barely-there-lace makes you feel both. You should definitely buy it.”
Almost immediately I start shaking my head. What’s the point? It’s not like I’m going to buy this and stand around in front of a mirror admiring myself. Okay, so I might actually do that a few times but still…
“If I looked that hot, I’d wear it every freaking day just to boost my self-confidence.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t need to boost your self-confidence.”
She grins. “Neither one of us do. But I can also tell that you feel sexy in it and that my friend, is worth its weight in gold.” Before I can deny what she’s saying, she barrels on, “Listen, your birthday is coming up, and that’s what I’m buying for you.”
My shoulders droop at her words as my eyes slide back to the mirror.
“That bra does wonders for your boobs.” She snorts. “It actually makes you look like you have some.”
I can’t argue with that. It really does. I’m a B cup. Somehow this gives the illusion of a C cup. Or a really full B. My hands go to the undersides of my breasts trying to figure out what exactly is going on. “I guess it’s kind of a push up bra.” It’s pushing things from the sides to create cleavage, the tricky little bugger.
She nods. “My advice is to invest in more of them. A push up bra is clearly your best friend.” Then she grins. “Other than me, of course.”
Not that I’m going to tell Lexie this, but, more often than not, I just wear a basic black sports bra that flattens the girls out even more than they already are. It’s super comfortable and I’ve just never bothered with anything else. This little get up is a real departure from what I normally wear. Which kind of makes me want to own it.
“Okay,” I finally give in.
She claps her hands together in obvious delight.
“But I’m buying it.”
“I’ll buy it for your birthday,” she tries cutting in.
I shake my head. “Nope. You’re right, I love it. I’m going to splurge even though I don’t have anyone to wear it for.”
She arches a brow. “Clothes are meant to make the person wearing them feel good about themselves. If you feel amazing, that’s what matters.”
