Okay, so I wasn’t Saffron or Henrietta but I would try on the dress. Just quickly. If it was awful I would actually make myself sick so Derek wouldn’t force me to go to the meal. And if the dress was okay, then perhaps I would think about wearing it, although, who was I kidding, it wasn’t likely to be okay, not with my slim hips and lack of chest. On me it would look like a shapeless sack.
I slammed my glass on the table and walked into the living room, letting the robe slide from my arms and land in a heap on the floor. I stared at the black lace underwear. May as well try it on too, I didn’t fancy wearing the graying sports bra I’d had on all day, and definitely not the knickers I’d dampened thinking about Tobias.
Oh, the new thong fit like a dream. I’d always thought lace would be itchy but no, so soft, so smooth. And it sat neatly, and surprisingly comfortably, in between my butt cheeks.
The strapless bra held my modest breasts upward, as if they were being displayed on a shelf. The flesh spilled to the very edge of the cups and looked soft and slightly wobbly. Like Dawn’s did in the summer, when she wore low tops and laughed. I’d never seen my breasts look so feminine and stared at them in the long wall mirror, fascinated.
But I didn’t have the luxury of time so I reached for the dress and slipped it over my head. The material was an indulgence, not silky or satiny but smooth, dense and somehow light too, and it smelled new, like shops and fresh air. As my head popped through the neck and the thin straps settled in the groove of my shoulders, the rest of the dress fell around my body. After fastening the concealed side zip, I looked down, shocked for a moment to see such a bright color on my usually drab torso. The neckline sat the merest fraction above the bra, which meant the soft wobbliness of my new curves was still displayed. The waist nipped in and as I smoothed my hands into the dip between ribs and hips, I realized it hugged my shape perfectly. The flare over my thighs was slightly looser as I walked to the mirror, which meant I could move comfortably, in fact no, more than comfortably, I could walk with the luscious material sliding around the top of my legs—it felt wonderful.
I dragged in a breath and blew it out slowly. Roamed my gaze from my knees to my shoulders. I had never, in all my life, seen my body look so shapely or so curvy. The dress gave me breasts, a waist and hips like Marilyn Monroe. And the color. It made the skin on my arms and chest glow, as though I’d been in the sunshine for a week. Not only that, it reflected onto my cheeks, often too pale this time of year; I looked as if I’d had an invigorating walk in frosty woods.
Turning, I examined my butt. The dress hugged the outline but not so much that it looked tarty. The round globes of my cheeks could be made out but not in explicit detail and there was no hint of the underwear beneath.
I remembered the tale of A Mistress for Midnight and how Georgina had worn a red dress to hunt down her man. The red dress had given her the self-assurance and the confidence she needed to pull off her dangerous plan. Red had suited her. Red, it seemed, suited me too.
I glanced at the hold-up stockings. I would need something on my legs if I wore this dress to dinner. But seriously, fishnets? Couldn’t Dawn have just gotten me a nice, thick pair of opaque tights? They would have suited me much better and been so much more practical. Sliding the stockings from their pack, I tickled my fingertips over the delicate holes. They were so dainty yet so sexy. I couldn’t imagine wearing them.
Sitting on the sofa, I carefully maneuvered my toes into the ends of the stockings. Unfurled them and watched, fascinated, as my ankles, calves, then knees and thighs transformed into someone else’s. Someone sensual and sexy, someone who had the right shape legs to wear fishnet stockings. I smoothed the dainty lace rim at my upper thighs, stood and let my dress drop over them. My gaze once more went to the mirror. They looked right with the dress. More than right, they looked great. My legs had taken on a different shape, my calves looked a little rounder and more elegant and the tiny diamond holes on the stockings were more subtle than I thought they would be.