I love to dress up!  Fact : It’s always more fun to dress up as someone bad!

The month of October is drawing to a close, the nights and early mornings have become chilly and the daylight hours have got shorter.  Even though it’s an American rather than an English tradition, there are halloween costumes for sale in shops and people are purchasing sweets in case ‘trick or treaters’ come knocking at their door.  Not where I live of course, my third floor flat is in the city amongst the bright lights of shops and fast-food take-aways, but I’m still excited because I have a party to get ready for tonight.

There will be booze instead of candy and we’ll all be wearing fancy dress.  My imagination runs riot as to the ‘tricks’ which will be played and the ‘treats’ which will be on offer! Mike’s escorting me – but as we’re only fuck-buddies, no strings attached, it’s really as friends to walk into the party and home with – we won’t be cramping each other’s style!

I purchased tonight’s outfit with care: I’m dressing as Ellie Driver, the deadly nurse from Kill Bill, complete with eye patch and fake syringe.  I’ve bought a long blonde wig and (my own addition) some fabulous high-heeled white pvc boots which lace up to the knee and of course I will be wearing white stockings and suspenders.  The short uniform will give lots of glimpses of my bare thighs disappearing up into the white nurse’s dress, which fits snugly, and the front zip will let me show more of my cleavage as the night grows wilder (it’s great to be a girl!)

The start of my preparations is having a lovely relaxing bath – my iPod is docked just outside the door so that I can hear music (Black Cherry by Goldfrapp sets a sexy tone).  There are candles arranged on the windowsill and shelf and with some drops of perfumed essence in the water, my skin will be moisturised and smell delicious: freesias and roses.  Towels are draped over the radiator so I step out of my silky chinese robe and into the bath.  Sinking into the heat of the warm water, I begin to relax and shrug off cares and worries. It’s the start of the weekend so I’m sipping a rum and coke, which I set carefully on the corner of the bath.

Drizzling liquid soap onto a bath scrunchy I begin to rub it over my arms in circular motions, moving to my chest and shoulders, I scrub around my breasts and watch my nipples rise to peaks, tingling with the abrasiveness of the nylon scrunchy,  I continue down to my stomach & buttocks, legs and thighs and finally around my feet. My legs were waxed yesterday, but my budget wouldn’t stretch to waxing anything else, so I get out a new razor and soap my armpits to shave them smooth.  I want to make my pussy completely hairless too, but that means standing up out of the water and it’s too deliciously warm just yet.  I turn on the hot tap with my talented toes and feel swirls of extra hot water curl around me, my breasts float and bob, rising to the top of the water with their own buoyancy, my nipples peek out, puckering a little in the cooler air.

Sipping my drink I let my head loll back on the edge of the bath.  I’m glad I’m wearing a wig tonight, it means I don’t have to fuss with my hair. I trail my fingers through the water, cupping my breasts and pinching one nipple at a time, feeling the zap of desire rush straight down to my core, which begins to moisten.  I twiddle and pull at my nipples, stretching them a little to feel a delicious burn, which makes me squirm with delight and press my thighs together.  I know what I want to do next, but I enjoy teasing myself!  I trail my finger down my flat belly and it’s fascinating how the sensitive skin jumps back, even at my own touch.  My exploring fingers have finally reached the edge of my pussy, the hair there is kept short, just a landing strip usually, with my bikini line shaved smooth so that I can wear minute knickers and thongs. Today I will become a wicked nurse with murder on her mind, I think my character would have it all shaved off.  I trail my fingers around the labia, which are swollen slightly from arousal and the warmth of the bath water.  I pinch and pull them to increase the blood supply then trail my fingers between the inner lips, I feel my own moisture, slick and slippery, making my fingers glide deliciously over and through my most sensitive flesh.

The more I stroke round and about my pussy, the more engorged and stiff my clit becomes, until its hood is peaking above my outer lips and I begin to focus more on touching and stroking it, on and around its nub.  I’ve instinctively spread my legs as wide apart as the bath allows and they are tensed against the sides.  My stomach too is braced, my core muscles set. I swirl a finger round and around my clit, occasionally dipping into my warm, slippery hole, and then return to smoothing and teasing this tiny little point in my pussy.  It becomes all I can think of, pleasing this demanding little peak of flesh, my rubbing becomes less gentle, more urgent.  I get flashes of colour and sparks behind my eyes, which are squeezed tight shut, and I am rubbing, pressing stroking, throbbing, cresting, until my arousal tips over into waves of pulses and aftershocks.  My whole body is swept through with warmth, then twitches and spasms;  my fingers are like prunes as I rinse the juices out of my pussy, barely able to touch my sensitive clit now I’ve cum.

I sip my drink and use my arms to push up out of the bath, my legs are still a little useless, I wonder if they will support me! I wrap myself in a towel.  With one foot on the side of the bath I use more liquid soap to lather up my pubes, then take the razor to follow carefully the curves of my inner thighs and outer lips, shaving them smooth.  I rinse the razor head often, then hold my skin as taut as possible, to shave without cutting – who wants to have an accident around their precious bits?!  Moving the mirror until it’s under me, on the edge of the bath, ensures that I do a thorough job.  I am delighted with the finished result and gently massage a few drops of baby oil onto my lips and mound.  It’s warming and it leaves a hint of a shine, too much rubbing and I’ll never be ready on time!

Having moisturised my legs & chest with a body cream (also scented with freesia and roses) and sprayed on deodorant, I drape myself in my oriental robe, which is just long enough to cover my buttocks, then begin applying foundation and make-up to my face.  I accentuate my eyes with lots of mascara, even though I’ll have a patch over one, but I want the real focus to be on my lips, which I paint pillar box red.  Make-up done, my hair in a low ponytail, I’m alerted by my entry phone.  I hurry to the door – it’s probably Mike.  We greet each other and I buzz him up, using the time it takes him to climb 3 flights of stairs to straighten up my bathroom and blow out the candles.

Mike’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when I open the door,  the cool air of the lobby makes my nipples shrink to hard points which he notices straight away!

“O M G Freya!  You look amazing!  Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Don’t be crazy Mike!”  I giggle and pull him over the threshold, “I haven’t even got dressed yet!”

”Don’t bother!”  he fondles my bare ass with one hand while hugging me close “I like this look: call girl in Bangkok!” he cups my breast and rubs a chilly thumb over my already hard nipple,  I need to bite my lip to stifle a moan.

“Want a drink?”  I dance away from his wandering hands into the tiny kitchen, and slosh some rum and coke into a glass for him.
“So what’s your costume?  Elvis?” I call out.

He’s wearing very clingy black leather trousers and a matching shirt with the collar turned up, his usually messy dark hair is gelled and slicked into a *quiff.

“I like it.” I nod appreciatively as he turns to let me see the rear view – his bum looks toned and firm in the tight material, then he looks over his shoulder and raises one eyebrow at me and my stomach does a flip.

“You’ve got the moves Mike!” I laugh.  “Make yourself at home with the TV, I won’t take much longer.  There’s not a lot else to put on!”  I let my voice get low and sultry.  Mike makes another grab for my bare behind, but I yelp and move out of reach, into the bedroom where I’ve laid out my clothes.


To be continued … in next week’s #WickedWednesday.  Follow the link to see what others are posting for this week’s prompt : Tradition.  
* Quiff = Pompadour
Some of my Dark Darlings may recognise the central character – Freya – I’ve also written a  story following her while she shops for underwear, sending selfies to her lover.

Comments (5)

  1. Reply

    Now that is how to get ready for a party…. Oh and just so you know, none of the American's who read this will have any idea what a quiff is, oddly they call it a pompadour

    Mollyx

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