Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
It terrifies me.
“What about this?”
If you had told me last week that I’d have been shopping with Mr. C in Houston, for a date with Pax, I would have laughed and laughed and laughed.
“That’s disgusting,” I mutter, crinkling my nose up at it.
We’ve been doing this for an hour now and have been in three different stores. I’ve found nada and Mr. C keeps picking up clothes his wife would wear.
I finally find a couple of nice dresses which have long sleeves. I don’t typically like showing my arms, not because they’re hideous or disfigured but just because I don’t like showing my arms. It’s just a weird thing of mine.
One of the dresses I pick up is a dark purple velvet, it kind of reminds me of what those creepy porcelain dolls would wear.
Another is a dark red bodycon dress, a lot tighter than I’ve worn in a long time but I want to try it on for giggles.
I thank the sales lady and leave Mr. C to browse the men’s section. This is not his kind of store but he’s at least pretending it is, that makes me feel better. Credit to him for not moaning yet beyond calling me the most awkward woman he has ever met. Which must be saying something because I’ve met his wife.
“Hot date?” the sales lady asks, giving me a number to hook on the back of the door. Not that she’ll forget how many clothes I took inside seeing as I have two dresses and nothing else.
“I guess so.”
“Okay, well, try on your things in one of the rooms and if you walk further around to the left there’s a bigger room with mirrors for all angles.”
“Nifty.”
I try on the porcelain doll dress first and I love it. It makes me look so white though, like snow. I look almost like a vampire.
Smiling, I exit the changing room and whistle at the sales lady to get her attention.
I’m about to ask her what she thinks but the widening of her eyes and the clearing of her throat tells me she does not like it.
Huffing, I turn back and rip it off by body for the bodycon dress, then I exit the changing room again a few minutes later and meet her smile of apology crossed with a grimace once more.
“Wait,” she tells me, grabbing the purple dress off the hook in my room. “Can you… humor me for a minute? You have the exact same body shape as my sister and I’m looking for a birthday outfit for her.” She’s bullshitting… right? Is this allowed? “The Emilia Clark-type body… not that I’m hitting on you or anything.” She holds up her hands, still rambling. “Can you try a dress on for me?”
I peek around her to look for Mr. C but he’s nowhere to be found.
“Sure,” I respond flatly. “I’ll just change out of this.”
Her hand sticks through the curtain while I stand naked in the mirror.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hiss, poking my head around the curtain to look at her.
“It’s gorgeous right?”
I groan and look at the soft red satin material. The breasts are held up by tiny straps that crisscross at the back.
“When in Rome,” I mutter, “or Houston…”
I carefully slip the soft, light, red material over my head and it falls down my body like a waterfall of satin. The side against my body is soft like velvet but the outside is shiny and so simple. It clings to my breasts, holding them and hugging them before showing every groove of my flat stomach. I turn slightly impressed with how it gets to my butt and just falls over it almost fluid.
I’ve never shown this much of my body in my entire life. Not even when I had sex. I still had my top on and knee-high socks and I’m pretty sure we just yanked my panties to the side.
I feel feminine and sexy, but I don’t feel like me.
“Let me see,” she insists. “Are you decent?”
“Nope,” I respond, pulling back the curtain and biting my lip. “I’m naked. I just look like I’ve been painted red… also this thigh split is way too high.”
“You’re a six, right?” she asks, suddenly crouching at my feet.
I nod and she helps me wriggle my pale feet into strappy red heels.
“I’ve never worn heels in my life. I’m going to fall,” I warn her, and she takes my arm until I get used to them. My ankles wobble a bit but, overall, they aren’t so bad. I can imagine they’ll ache like hell in an hour though, thank heavens I’m only wearing them for a few minutes.
I stride ahead releasing my hair from its bun at her request. I think she might be attracted to me. I don’t know but this whole thing is really fucking weird.