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“You need some clothes,” she cut me off, “ones that don’t hide that gorgeous body.” A wave of excitement swept through me as I understood her plan. No she wasn’t giving up on me after the debacle of our last fateful adventure.
“You have some place in mind?” I asked.
“There’s a boutique on 2nd Street, I think you’ll like it.”
My clothes were sweet. How many years I’d picked them knowing my mother would wear them, too. Stylish but sweet, not cheap, but prim. Cotton shirts, functionally cool shorts for summer. Neutral suits and knee length hems for winter. Every blouse or sweater I owned buttoned at the neck, making me a picture of propriety.
I wondered how Jane would dress me. Low cut tops. Short skirts. Filmy fabrics. My heart raced just thinking of them. All evening long, every time I thought of that shopping trip, I felt my crotch begin its slow dance with desire. Edgy, slinky, slutty dangerous clothes. I was embarrassed by my thoughts but too turned on to make them go away.
The next morning, I wore my blue spring suit, but rather than button my blouse to my neck, I left a couple buttons open, smiling giddily in the mirror as I did. No one could see my bra beneath, and I couldn’t be accused of being risqué, but at least I didn’t look so prim. The best I could do with what I had.
***
“No, Alex, take off the bra,” Jane demanded. Once we arrived at her favorite boutique, she pulled a dozen items off the rack with the assistance of a shop owner, a rotund but beautiful French women who spoke with a thick accent. Half the time they were conversing in French and I didn’t understand a word they said. When it came time to try on the clothes, Jane insisted on joining me in the dressing room – I don’t know when I’d last been shopping with a girlfriend.
“No bra?” I asked in response to her direction. My eyes must have been as big as saucers. “I can’t do that… I just…well…”
“Maybe not in public, but this isn’t public, is it? It’s an exercise in breaking rules. Time you got used to it.”
Taking a deep breath, I shed the bra, nervous about her seeing me naked, and quickly pulled the t-shirt over my naked chest. Jane eyed me with a whimsical smile, which made me wonder what she was thinking. She could be so damn intimidating, especially how she seemed so pleased by what she saw.
“So what do you think? Look at yourself.”
I turned toward the mirror and the first thing, the only thing that caught my eyes were my nipples, sticking a good ¾ of an inch from my chest, poking through the thin fabric. Jane must have seen my look of horror as I turned away.
She only smiled. “C’mon Alex, take a deep breath and look at yourself. Really look.”
“What if I don’t want to look?”
“Do it anyway. You need to see yourself for who you are.”
No I didn’t. I wanted to shout right back, but I obeyed the order as if I had no choice. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I allowed myself to look at my prominent nipples and appreciate, not despise them. I had no problem with this sort of thing in my fantasies, why now?
“You are one sexy woman, you just don’t realize it,” she exclaimed. Suddenly, she was on her feet, standing behind me, loosening my hair, fluffing it with her hands. The way she ran her fingers through the soft waves sent shivers through me, and I realized how aroused I’d become. I had the overwhelming desire to touch her back, but I squelched the idea. What the hell was I doing? I could feel my old self grabbing me back.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I shook my head. “This really isn’t me.”
“I beg to differ,” she answered, as she turned me back to the mirror with firm hands.
“It just seems so indecent.”
“There’s nothing indecent about enjoying your body, and letting other people enjoy it too. You’ll never get over being bored with your life unless you make some radical changes.” Her hands caressed my arms and my back, and I shivered from the touch. I couldn’t decide whether her affection was sisterly or that of a lover. I could feel the sensation all the way to my fingertips and more and more alarming, directly between my thighs. “Let’s face it, Alex, you’ve been under your mother’s thumb long enough. It’s time you discovered the real Alex under all your rules and appropriate behavior.”
Boy, did she hit me squarely where it hurt, although I certainly wasn’t surprised by her appraisal. I was tired of living my life to please my mother. Tired of her judgment and the way I j
udged myself because of her. I dreamed of an exciting life – handsome men, hot sex, affairs of the heart, travel, adventure, laughing, loving, getting screwed, even if it meant a broken heart. I wanted a life! I hated who I’d become in my twenty-eight years. I was ordinary, nothing special, and I hated myself. Perhaps this could be a new start. Why not?
“It’s time you started living your fantasies,” she pressed. “You think too much.”
“My fantasies?” What did she know about my fantasies?
“You told me a lot the other night, in very few words. You certainly don’t think you’re the only one with racy thoughts?”
My mind was swimming. I felt afraid, but I don’t know when I’d been this excited.
As I looked in the mirror and stared at my chest, I liked what I saw. There was something about me I hadn’t seen before.
“I’ll buy it, and the jeans too,” I announced. I also chose a purple silk top with sequins around the low neckline. Jane said it was long enough to wear as a dress, but I wasn’t about to go that far. I could wear it over leggings. Then as we were leaving the dressing room, I impulsively grabbed a short denim skirt, that I initially discarded as way too outside my comfort zone.
