Reluctant Diva 16
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 16 – My first date
Even after we had drunk our coffee, I was still trying to sort out my muddled feelings, but I was brought back to reality with a rude jerk. Without ceremony my mother broke in upon my thoughts. “Now young lady, there’s a lot to do before this evening.”

“I’ll get my apron.” I sighed.

“Forget the chores. I meant that you need to be ready for your date.” She sounded serious. This exchange introduced me to a scarier set of thoughts and had the instant effect of banishing all else from my head. She led the way to my bedroom. “There’s so much to do. First we need to think what you will wear.”

While she paused to consider, I took the opportunity to say “I thought something along the lines of what Rachel was wearing last night might be the right kind of thing. She looked stunning in that sweater.”

“Of course she did, but with her curves she would look stunning in a potato sack. We need to be sure of holding your date’s interest and although your figure is coming along very nicely, your ‘assets’ aren’t in the same league as Rachel’s. No, we want something sexy, but with staying power. With Marty, you may find that you have your hands full!”

My eyes widened in alarm.

“It’s no good. We’ll just have to go shopping,” she concluded.

I wasn’t sure I could face a trip to a clothing store, but thankfully recalling the events of the morning, “Oh, I’ve just remembered.”

“What?” Mom’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Madeleine loaned me something. She thought it would… would do well for tonight,” I said hesitantly. I ran over to my bag and retrieved the black jumpsuit and the waist cincher. “It’s a little creased, but when it’s pressed…... What do you think?”

“Well that is one woman who is worth listening to, so we’d better check it out.” Mom said.

I held it up but she shook her head. “No, I need to see what it does for you. Slip it on, silly! Now those shoes we bought yesterday would be perfect to go with it and one of your new bras, also those panties.” She went to my underwear drawer and took out the new black underwear. “It means I will need to alter these like I did the white ones you wore yesterday. For now better put those back on so I can see the overall effect.”

She made no move to allow me the privacy to get changed so self-consciously I retrieved the panties from the laundry and then slipped my dress and bra off. While she watched attentively, I altered the straps on the black bullet bra we had bought the day before to a halter style and put it on. I was immediately aware of the dramatic effect it had on my breasts while Mom looked on approvingly. I removed my panty-girdle and I slipped on the panties. It took some time fiddling around with my private parts to achieve the desired tuck and under scrutiny that was more than a little embarrassing! I managed the task and at last everything was in place. My mother picked up the cincher which Madeleine had also loaned me.

“Breathe in!” commanded my parent with a sly grin on her face, and looped it around my waist. She fastened the hooks and eyes at the front on the tightest row. It made me catch my breath. Glancing in the mirror I could see that though my waist had indeed shrunk to a noticeably smaller circumference, the most dramatic effect of this new undergarment was to draw attention to my boobs and butt. She pulled the hem of the bra down so there were no gaps and adjusted my cleavage for best effect.

She stood back to admire the result. Her summary, “That gives you the wow factor!” showed her complete satisfaction. At least one of us was happy!

She held out the jumpsuit for me to unzip and wriggle into. It took a while but finally I had it positioned as it should be. I slipped on my high-heeled pumps.
“Turn around, Jennifer,” she commanded. “And again.”

Gesturing to me to wait she went out and I could hear her searching in her own room. After a few moments she returned with a short pink jacket and handed it to me. It had no fastening across the front and had sleeves which stopped just past the elbow. “Something else I don’t wear any more” she sighed. The little jacket fitted me well enough, though to my concern it didn’t do anything to hide my cleavage beneath it.

“That’s perfect! The secret is to accentuate exactly what you’ve got without making your intentions too obvious. I hoped you thanked Madeleine again?”

I nodded dumbly. Not obvious?!

“You had better press this suit and can leave the rest of the ironing for another day,” she instructed. “Then we’ll sort out your nails and hair – that little wig again, I think. You can leave supper to me on this occasion. Look sharp now!”

Duly admonished, I ignored the sick feeling of apprehension in my stomach and stirred myself into action. I had completed the ironing but was still in my bathrobe when Mom called me into her room. “Here, Jennifer” she said smugly. There was a twinkle in her eye as she showed me the black pair of panties she had now altered to be the same as the white ones, with a neat tunnel in the gusset. “You had better try them on.”

More embarrassment, and when I had done so, “Now I want you to be clear about this evening.”
She continued “It’s your first date with that boy so there are some unwritten rules you should keep in mind. Until a girl knows her date a lot better than you do she will be on her guard. That’s why it’s usual to double-date a few times before going solo. Boys have only one thing on their minds, as you know yourself only too well. They will always try things at any opportunity”

“I guess” I faltered. “But how…. What…. I mean…. it’s not the same for me, is it?”

Mum glowered angrily at me. “It’s close enough. This is important, so before you finish getting ready we need to clarify something. Although you may be ‘different’ you would definitely enjoy certain things a girl might like. Want me to demonstrate?”

Abashed, I shook my head.

She continued her scolding. “A street-wise boy like Marty is bound to know how to push your buttons. You need to be mindful of that so you don’t give way at the first temptation, like any little slut! What have you just learned about self-control?.... Oh, go get ready!”

Needing no second bidding, I fled to my room. I really wanted just to curl up on the bed and stay there for a long, long time. But no chance of that! Only moments later it seemed, any ideas about relaxing were dispelled on Mom’s entering the room, unannounced. Seating me firmly at my dressing table she started to work on my hair. She fastened the wig on top of my head then spent some time fluffing out my bangs and styling it to her satisfaction. Duly coiffed and perfumed, I donned the black pointy bra that matched my panties.

Smiling with satisfaction, my parent hooked me into the cincher. “Breathe in!” she said again, gleefully. The effect she desired was immediately visible.

“Stunning! There’s no way that boy will be able to keep his hands off you.” She gave me another severe look. “So be warned!” she chided. “You will have to be the one who decides how far things go! And, remember! We’re doing all this to teach him a lesson!”

“Right! Got it!” I assented, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt.

Under Mom’s critical gaze I put on the jumpsuit, now carefully pressed. I took extra care over my nails, lipstick and mascara and with thirty minutes to go I was attired in my selected outfit and as ready as I ever would be. My nails and lipstick matched the colour of the jacket and the whole was set off with my pretty pendant necklace, earrings, bracelets and Mom’s little gold watch. While I was putting the finishing touches to my attire, she had been on the telephone and I guessed from snippets of conversation I could overhear that Mrs Bennett was the party on the other end of the line. She was being given full details of my planned evening, although the intricacies of the theatre time-table seemed an odd topic of conversation. By the time the receiver was put down, Rachel’s mom probably possessed a clearer idea of the evening’s programme than I did.

When we set off down-town in the station wagon, to say I felt nervous could have been the biggest understatement of my life. With my severely compressed waistline, I had not wanted to eat any supper and yet my stomach was performing somersaults. My agitation must have been obvious and Mom told me to calm myself more than once.

“Remember, Jennifer!” she warned as the car drew to a halt outside the theatre. “Any girl would be thrilled to have a date with a good-looking boy like Marty. All you have to do is have a little fun, relax and be nice to him. Be a lady, and the rest will take care of itself. I’ll pick you up here around 10pm.”

Gee thanks Mom!

Has she forgotten I’m a boy?

“Okay Mom” I muttered as I got out of the car.

She drove away leaving me standing disconsolately there. Pulling myself together, I glanced around and realised Marty was already waiting in the doorway. He’d seen me, so to give me time to collect myself, I turned and pretended to wave in my mother’s direction before forcing a smile and tottering towards him on my heels.

“Hi doll!” was his greeting as he came over to me. He eyed me up and down. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you sure got a classy chassis." He took my arm at the elbow.

“Hi Marty! Why thank-you. You look nice too, but it’s ‘Jennifer’, remember!” My response combined firmness with I hoped, a modicum of coyness. I gave him what I intended as my sidelong glance. The thought struck me again quite forcibly, what a very good-looking boy he was. I couldn’t help feeling that to be escorted by him was quite something.

Now we were together my nerves had all evaporated and my confidence was starting to return. “I don’t mind ‘Jenny’, if you prefer it.”
Removing his hand from my elbow I fell into step beside him. “It’s early, but let’s get our tickets right away so we can get good seats. I do like to be able to see.” The actual purpose of my request was to try and avoid being seated on the back row, where I’d worried that we might be too well hidden from general view for my comfort.

Marty looked a little confused and replied vaguely, “Yeah, sure.” We walked through the lobby to the ticket kiosk, where he paid for the tickets. He was very attentive, which I found nice. “Care for some popcorn? Some candy?”

We walked over to the stall in the lobby and spent the next five minutes deciding. So far this was working out okay. The architecture and ornamentation of the Majestic were impressive and there was plenty in our surroundings to capture our attention if our conversation had lagged; but it didn’t. I started to relax some more as we chatted about what we liked. He could be quite funny and had me giggling over some of the droll things he came out with.

As we made our way into the auditorium, there was still ten minutes before the feature film “Pillow Talk” was due to start. They had some newsreel or other on screen when we were shown to our seats. Marty handed the tickets to the usherette who shone her little torch and I was dismayed to see how near they were to the back. True, not on the back row itself, but only a couple of rows further forward, and I was concerned that the evening’s ‘entertainment’ might not depend altogether on the film.

“Oh, I was hoping to be a bit closer to the screen,” I said, pouting a little. The reproach intended in this complaint seemed to be lost on him in the darkness, however.

“These were the best seats they had.” His airy reassurance was not that convincing and his next words went to reinforce my impression that I was in the presence of a smooth operator. “It’s cool, honey. We’ll be able to please ourselves here, when the film starts.” That sounded a little ominous to me and my nervousness returned in full force.

However, it seemed that I needn’t have worried, at least to begin with. Chatting and eating popcorn until the feature came on turned out to be a breeze, and I started to relax again and even enjoy myself. He was wearing some cologne which smelled nice and he looked so good. Once again, I was impressed that the ‘girl’ in company with him was actually me. If they could have witnessed it I would have been the envy of half the girls in my class.

We were well into the first half of “Pillow Talk” before my alarm bells started ringing, faintly at first. Appearing to be absorbed in the film Marty had slumped down. Stretching he sat up again and placed his arms across the back of my seat and the vacant one on the other side of him. After a little he turned and smiled, resting his arm across my shoulders. I smiled back and replaced his arm onto the back of the seat again. This little pantomime took place at least twice more.
The next time he did it he reached across and took my other hand, so I couldn’t free myself without undue fuss.

“This is nice” he smiled reassuringly. “You know you look sensational, Jennifer. I’d rather look at you than at the movie!” It was warm in there and we had taken our jackets off when we sat down. The hand on my shoulder started to stroke gently in a manner which recalled to mind Mom’s warning only a couple of hours before. His touch felt nice and it would have been all too easy to let him continue. Remembering the object of the evening, however, I resisted the temptation and turned to protest. As I did so he leaned over and kissed me full on the mouth. I was so stunned I just sat there and let it happen. He was a good kisser and I was starting to enjoy the sensation before I realised I had to do something and pulled away.

“Marty! No!” I whispered in protest. “Please! What do you take me for?”

“Hey! You liked it too. I could tell.” came the reply and before I knew it we were locked in a clinch again. This time the kiss was with tongues and my senses swam with pleasure as I found myself responding. Marty’s hands began roving everywhere. That felt good too and it took some moments before I remembered I shouldn’t be letting this happen. What was I doing?! The expression “like an octopus” sprang into my mind and now took on a clearer meaning. By the time I had recollected myself it was all I could do to keep him from caressing my most sensitive zones. His hands seemed to be magnetically attracted to my bust, the top of my thighs and my butt. At least those were his present limits, as I was prudently keeping my legs firmly together.

It was a losing struggle. Besides kissing my mouth, he was running his lips over my face, my neck, my ears and throat. The bodily sensations I was experiencing weren’t helping much and each time I thought I was getting things under control, he kissed my lips again and my knees would tremble and go weak.
My companion varied these attentions with verbal assurances of my bodily perfections, what he would like to do to me and how hot I was making him. He emphasised this final assertion by taking my hand and pressing it against the front of his pants. Ewkk! I froze in shock. In order to recover some semblance of control I had to clear my head of mental comparisons with my own small endowment in that area. I was just wondering if I could hold out any longer and was internally debating whether I should make a run for it when the theatre lights went up for the interval.

With a final effort I pushed Marty off me and sat up to straighten my disarranged clothing. Offering up a silent thank-you to Madeleine for the resilience of the jumpsuit, I stood up and smoothed myself down. Marty smirked at me and similarly stood to sort out his own clothes. His self-satisfaction was short-lived however.

“Why Marty!” exclaimed a well-known voice from the row behind us. “Who’s that you are with now?”

We both turned to face the speaker. Smiling brightly from her seat was… oh no… RACHEL!

How come?!!
I twigged – this was Mom’s scheming, the phone call and all! Looking as stunning as ever, there sat my idol together with another girl that I didn’t know. In attendance were two guys who again I hadn’t seen before. They looked like they were all on a joint date together.
Struck dumb, I could only stare. My escort seemed to be struggling to recover his breathing let alone his composure.

“Er... Hi Rachel” Marty muttered eventually. Then recognising the rest of the party he brightened, glad to see some people he must have recognised as friends.

“Hey! Frank, Jimmy, Cheryl. How’s it going?”

“Marty! Hey man! Hi!”

I couldn’t take my eyes from Rachel, who sat there smiling while these greetings took place. She resumed, “I can see you must have been going steady for a while, you two. That sure was some fierce making out!”

Embarrassed by her directness, Marty mumbled an introduction. “Oh, Jennifer, this is Rachel. We go way back,” he recovered uncomfortably. “Rachel, this is Jennifer”.

“Yeah. Right!” was my friend’s knowing response. “You are kidding! Right?!”

Marty stood looking from me to her, clearly confused to be the source of her amusement. Rachel laughed “Oh come on! Marty! I never knew you liked boys!”

“What?” he exclaimed. Heads started to turn in our direction. “What are you saying, you dumb….?”

“Well I can see you must really like boys from the way you two were making out!”

She turned to me “Hi Rob. Love the outfit”.

“What?!!!” my date shouted.

Rachel twisted to face her party, who were gaping at this exchange in open amazement. “This is Robert. Rob! I used to babysit him when he was younger.”
Turning to face me she gave me a warm smile “You’re brave to take on Marty, sweetie. He’s like the giant squid!”

Next I found myself spun around and gazing into the blazing eyes of my escort. “What…..? Who are you?” He hissed at me. “Is she right?”

Scared as I was, all I could do was nod my assent.

“But…. But…” he looked me up and down. “Well you had me fooled! You look like a chick. You even smell like a chick….”

“And he tastes like a chick too, seemingly!” put in Rachel brightly. The other girl, Cheryl, collapsed into giggles. Frank and Jimmy were struggling not to laugh out loud.

“I’m amazed a big man like you doesn’t know the difference. Oh Marty!” Rachel’s peals of laughter joined with the other girl’s.

He stood there dumbly for some time before eventually blurting out “Okay. I get it.”
Then “You’ve had your fun. I’m out of here” and summoning the remaining shreds of his dignity, he turned on his heel and stalked out, to ringing sounds of mirth from the whole group. I couldn’t join in, but stood there wishing the ground would swallow me.

“Oh, he’ll never live that down!” exclaimed Rachel. She leant across and gave me the warmest of hugs. “Thank-you, thank-you! You’re my hero in shining armour!” then she giggled “Jennifer!”