Reluctant Diva 32
Inspired by Lipstick Discipline
Chapter 32 – Pillow talk
When Mom’s car came to a halt outside school, Chris was waiting by the gates for me, looking extremely debonair in his evening jacket and bow-tie. My heart gave a leap at the sight and a surreptitious glance at my date made it clear that when he saw me in my outfit he too liked what he saw.

“Wow!” was all he could utter as he ran his eyes over me.

To be so admired gave rise to a wonderful warm feeling in me. With that kind of affirmation, the general reaction to my appearance mattered hardly at all. As we entered the main hall, heads were turned in our direction up and down the room as anticipated. My tutu-like dress with its dramatically flared skirt flounced from side to side as I walked, its motion accentuated by the unavoidable wiggle that wearing heels caused. To my fevered imagination every eye seemed to be focussed on me, some friendly but others not so. I wondered if we were the only couple not dressed in something macabre. On looking around I saw that there were one or two others who had chosen to be different, but we were surrounded by the usual ghouls, vampires and ghosts. In contrast my costume resembled that of a fairy tale princess. So much for keeping a low profile!

One of the first guests I distinguished among the throng was Karen. Her costume was instantly recognisable as Morticia from the Addams Family comic strip. Her full-length gown clung to her tall statuesque figure, the most elegant in the room. Naturally she was there on the invitation of her boyfriend Louis. He stood next to her attired as Gomez and nearby was Brett, my admirer from that infamous double date. He was dressed as the Addams butler Lurch. I couldn’t help but laugh at his choice of character which was so well in keeping with his huge size and lack of conversational powers. My amusement turned to momentary panic on seeing his eye was also upon me. I hoped and prayed that my being with Chris would deter any further attentions from that particular quarter and resolved to stay close to my escort as much as possible.

One huge plus was that I could recognise only two or three other students from my year group. That led me to hope that conspicuous as my outfit was, my anonymity might be preserved. I ought to be able to enjoy a fun-filled evening without risking exposure, which was the constant nagging fear that haunted me, so to speak!

At first the party lived up to my hopes. It had seemed a good idea to have worked out a routine which demonstrated who our adopted characters were supposed to be. Chris was popular among his peers and as an international spy was well able to act his part with an easy flamboyance. Alongside him I had to do little to portray his ditsy blonde companion successfully. We acted out a scene where Chris pulled out an imaginary gun to rescue me from a situation of dire peril, while I raised my hands in a pretence of helpless panic. Our little sketch caused much amusement and we were asked to repeat it over again. I found myself really getting into the part. Perhaps the character of a mindless bimbo was closer to my own than I had reckoned on up to now. That was a disturbing thought!

The party organisers had done a great job. The main hall had been transformed and there was plenty to eat and drink. Constricted by my clothing I could only nibble at a cocktail sausage and had to pass up the other seasonally weird but delicious offerings. I had to rethink my preconception about the costumes as by no means all were tacky. Some were very imaginative and it was fun guessing who was meant to be whom. The band was excellent and to dance with Chris was something else entirely. Although I had to admit to myself that he wasn’t as accomplished a partner as Lee, the feelings of attraction I had towards him more than made up for any deficiency. As we danced I found myself thinking more and more of one thing. I couldn’t wait for the evening to get to the point where we might be alone together. That was some little way off. Dancing to the band’s music was punctuated with some organised activities – the Mummy-Wrapping Race, Jack-O-Lantern Face Crafting and, the culminating event, the Costume Contest.

Half-way through the evening I realised I was in dire need of the restroom! Only a part of the school had been opened for use and the special needs toilet was unavailable to me. To use the boys’ restroom would be out of the question so I would have to use the girls’ room. That risked possible disaster too and hesitantly I hovered outside for a few minutes before taking the plunge. Making my entrance after two or three girls had emerged, I was hoping that the room might now be empty and my caution was rewarded in part. There was one other occupant and she was someone I didn’t know. A senior girl dressed as a witch was busily engaged at the counter putting her makeup to rights. She smiled kindly at me and by way of conversation began to take notice of the lace and embroidery on my dress.

I could see she was trying to befriend a younger ‘girl’ in a spirit of kindness. She told me what a pretty figure I had, which was welcome as always. Her praise gave my confidence a boost. She then asked which princess I represented, so then I had to explain my assumed character to her and that took a little more time. Detained in chatting as I was, my bathroom need was growing more and more pressing. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other in desperation. My companion was too busy with her makeup to notice and the delay nearly led to calamity. Worse soon threatened. I was alarmed to hear voices out in the corridor and approaching our door. Imminently there might be other occupants to contend with. Making a swift apology I dashed for a stall, to the undisguised amusement of the older girl. My embarrassment was outweighed by the bodily relief I soon felt. When safely ensconced I realised I could distinguish Karen’s voice among the new arrivals. Disposed as I was to doubt her motivation, I was left to imagine any number of undesirable consequences which might follow if she were to find me in there.

Once I had adjusted my dress and was ready to leave, my next problem was how to emerge while retaining my incognito. The best course of action might be to wait until the restroom was empty again but the timing of this would always be uncertain. The longer I delayed the greater my danger would probably be. Listening intently I silently opened the stall door a crack and peered out. The coast was for the moment clear, so stepping smartly to the counter I hastily rinsed my hands, grabbing a paper towel to dry them before whisking smartly out of the room. Phew! I strove to calm my nerves as I trotted back to the main hall. Forcing a smile as I re-joined Chris, I could congratulate myself on my narrow escape.

A few minutes later I observed Karen re-entering the hall out of the corner of my eye. She appeared to be paying me no attention at all and I was able to relax once more, hopeful that I would be subjected to no embarrassment from that quarter.

So matters remained until the end of the evening when the prize-giving for the Costume Contest took place. Mr Grainger was officiating. After making a speech, which dragged on and on, thanking the student council and the band, he announced the winners of the competition. The award categories were for the best individual girl, the best individual boy and the best couple. It was no surprise that Karen and Louis claimed the last of the three. When the applause had died away, the vice-principal went on to announce that this year a special award of a bouquet of flowers had been donated for the couple who had come up with the most original theme.

With a passing reference to James Bond, he declared “The winning pair is our international spy and his helpless girlfriend, ‘shaken and not stirred’, Chris and Jennifer”.

The teacher was more familiar with Ian Fleming’s novels than were his audience and the joke fell a little flat. At least it gave me a moment to recover from the total surprise. My partner was much more nonchalant and grinning from ear to ear Chris stood up, courteously motioning me to go before him. As we went forward to collect our prize, Karen passed close to me on her return from the stage. In apparent congratulation she gave me a huge hug.

“Trust you to want all the limelight, princess!” she murmured malevolently in my ear.

Then as I made to resume my steps towards the stage she deftly unzipped the back of my dress with her free hand. With no shoulder straps to support it the dress dropped towards the floor. I managed to halt its downward progress only when the top had fallen to the level of my waist, exposing my underwear to the entire room.

I blushed scarlet in confusion, to the sound of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from my audience. It was fortunate that my corset covered my bosom so that only my underwear was revealed. Its firm grip prevented my boobs from being on open display, doubtless what Karen had intended. Nevertheless my mortification at being so exposed was complete.

Once again my companion saved the day. While I hastily lifted the front of my dress to cover myself, Chris stepped dramatically to my side and with a Bond–like flourish jerked my zip back up to the top again. Then he mimed taking his imaginary revolver from under his jacket and drilling my ‘enemy’ full of lead, finally blowing on his fore-finger and returning the ‘gun’ to his jacket. He received wild applause from the onlookers which he acknowledged with a bow and at his prompting I managed to bob a little curtsey, giving the impression that the whole scene had been contrived beforehand. Though he had retrieved what was left of my dignity, my humiliation as we marched out to the front was such that I didn’t know how to look. The presentation passed in an unreal blur of which all I remember was wishing the floor would open and swallow me up.

My fears that partner’s popularity might suffer from his involvement with me proved groundless. The reaction of his friends as they clustered around us showed that it had increased if anything. Vainly I tried to laugh off my embarrassment too, but the evening was spoiled as far as I was concerned. By this time the party was almost over and I was more than ready to leave. It seemed an age before I got the chance to murmur “Do you mind if we go?”

The walk home with Chris should have been an opportunity to recover our earlier carefree mood, but thanks to my ex-girlfriend’s spiteful action, the chemistry between us had vanished. The romance to which I had been so looking forward had firmly been put on ice, though my want of spirits wasn’t shared by my date. It was if a gulf had opened up between us. I felt completely awkward and longed for our stroll to come to an end. Though I had been imagining ways of “saying good night” to him all week, when we reached my door and the time came for us to part, those fantasies remained unrealised. All that took place was a quick exchange of thanks accompanied by a peck on the cheek. A complete anti-climax!

My final ordeal when I went inside was being required to relate every detail to my mother. That made me feel much worse. I had noticed the curtain move as we approached the house, so I had no hope of escaping the third degree. Fortunately she was distracted by my bouquet of flowers and to save face I implied more took place between Chis and me than actually had. By the time I had satisfied her curiosity my every nerve felt raw. This last effort exhausted me and mercifully on retiring to bed I fell immediately asleep.

On Saturday I was occupied with my chores all morning. I still felt the disappointment of the previous evening keenly and it was good to keep myself busy. I had taken a day off from the salon so I was looking forward to having the afternoon to recover. As it turned out, Mom was going to one of her Tupperware parties and Tom was spending the day with his friend Miles. I would have the house to myself. On impulse, before the former took leave I decided to ask a favour of her.

“Will it be all right if I ask Rachel over? If she’s free that is. I want her to help me with some ideas I have for my room. The way she has arranged hers is so nice. Please, Mom!”

Since Mom had so generously made the room over to me I hadn’t altered a thing. Well, actually I had put up the “Hot Buns” poster and the one of the guy in bathers on my wall by my bed, but that was the only attempt I’d made to personalise it. I still felt in awe that something so grand was occupied by little ol’ me.
“Oh, Rachel is sure to want all the low-down on what you and her brother got up to last night. I just bet she’ll be free! Yes, it’s fine by me, sweetie.”
My mom was right. When I telephoned her, I found that my friend was eager to spend the afternoon with me. Hearing her cheerful voice dispelled the shreds of my dark mood of the morning.

“If you hadn’t called me, I would have invited myself over,” she laughed.

I promised to make her some lunch and hastened to the kitchen to prepare sandwiches and drinks. Then I ran upstairs to change. I wanted to look my best for her and had already singled out one of her own hand-me-down skirts to wear. Silvery grey and with smart box pleats, it had a fitted waist and plenty of fullness to set off my figure. It was completely adorable! I had been looking for an opportunity to wear it but it was much too short for school. I searched though my tops and blouses and selected a pale pink t-shirt with little cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline to complement it.

That settled I hastily took a bath and then started to dress. Opening the drawers which Mom had filled with all that pretty lingerie, I wondered which bra I should select. I was tempted to wear something dark but that would be visible under the top and I might look cheap. Modesty prevailed and I chose a pastel shade in ultra-thin lace of a delicate blue. It took some fiddling with the straps until I was satisfied but when it fit perfectly it gave my bust a nice shape. The matching panties were equally flimsy, but with everything taped securely below them, a glance in the mirror confirmed that all was to rights.

Rachel would be here at any minute so I finished my preparations in record time. I took care to touch up my makeup, check my nails and brush out my hair. I was just fastening a pendant around my neck when I heard my friend’s voice below.

“Only me!”

A quick spritz of perfume then I ran down the stairs to greet her. My idol looked sensational as always in her favourite white jeans and skinny ribbed sweater and I greeted her with a warm if rather breathless hug.

“I’ve brought you some bit and pieces for your room” she indicated a large sack on the doorstep that looked as if it held promise. It was an awkward shape to lift, so between the two of us we carried it inside and up the stairs. Tipping its contents onto my bed revealed a treasure trove. There were cushions of different sizes and shapes, a colourful throw and lots of frills and flounces in various types of material, all very pretty and feminine.

“Where did you get all this?” I gazed in wonder. Then I remembered my role as hostess. “Let’s eat before we do anything else. I bet you are starving!”

Rachel needed no second invitation and I led the way down to the kitchen table where the lunch I’d prepared was set out. I had taken care over arranging it so as to make it look appealing and was rewarded by a cry of delight from my friend. While we ate she quizzed me about the events of previous evening and I told her everything, holding nothing back. When I got to the incident at the prize-giving ceremony, she was full of sympathy and indignation.

“You poor thing! That Karen is no friend of yours!” she exclaimed in conclusion. “But it was good that Chris thought to turn your plight into a rescue, just like the real Bond. He does have his moments, my brother!”

I assured her how grateful I felt but went on to describe how the incident had coloured the rest of the evening for me. “I tried to put it behind me, but it seemed to spoil everything. What Chris did was amazing! He handled it well. Too well if anything! I hope he was okay.”

“I guess!” was her guarded reply.

I decided to be open with her. “I don’t understand it, Rachel. Up to then we had been getting… you know… close, and I wanted to get even… closer. I really did. I was hoping we might… well… make out or something.”

Rachel looked at me wide-eyed. “Or something?”

“Well I would have stopped short of actual…” I blushed and carried on. “It’s that week in my cycle when… you know. It has this effect on me and kinda turns me on even more to… to boys.” I faltered. “Well, I was turned on for a while but after that debacle with Karen, I felt nothing at all. I just wanted to get away. I hope he wasn’t too disappointed.”

I considered my words and ruefully corrected them, “No, actually, I hope he was disappointed, but that he didn’t feel too bad.”

My friend laughed at the distinction I’d made, but I was in earnest. “What’s going on with me?”

“Oh that’s easy!” she exclaimed. “Let’s see about your room first and then we’ll talk some more.”

The next half-hour was an education as Rachel and I set about rearranging my bedroom under her inspired guidance.

“There are two important vantage points from which the room needs to look perfect” she explained. “Firstly, from the doorway as you enter, and secondly, from the bed when you wake.”

We got to work. Some of the existing furnishings were instantly discarded but we kept enough so that something of its personality remained. The posters from my wall were among the first items to go into the sack.

“We are women, now!” she chided, conveniently overlooking the fact that she had provided me with them in the first place. “We are above such things.”
When her work was complete the result was a transformation. It seemed perfect from every vantage point to me.

“Do you mind if I look in here” Rachel had already opened the doors of my closets and shaking her head had started to reorganise my hanging space. That done she next went over to tackle my dresser. The top drawer contained my ‘ordinary’ lingerie collection and she opened that without comment. The next evoked a squeal of delight.

“Jennifer! This is amazing!”

She checked the other drawers and turned to me gasping in disbelief at the array of silks and satins revealed. “How come you have all these beauties?”

I shrugged “They used to be Mom’s when she was first wed. She had been saving them… for her ‘daughter’! Amazingly she and I are exactly the same cup size now, so she has passed them on to me! Do you like them?”

“Lucky, lucky you! They’re wonderful. They put anything I’ve got to shame! Look at this and this!”

Her face suffused with delight, she looked prettier than ever as she held up first one item and then another. Soon my bed was covered, resembling the lingerie counter of a department store. When she had examined all of them we started folding to put them back in the drawers.

“It’s a pity we aren’t the same size” I said. “We could share them. You would be welcome.”

Rachel smiled her thanks at this thought and then reaching forward placed her hands first on my bust then on her own to effect a comparison. “No!” she laughed, “there’s still a difference. I need a real woman’s bra!”

“Well what about this?” The one I was holding looked roomier than the rest. I checked the size label and was pleased to see that I was right. The bra was in a pretty pale peach colour and had delicate embroidery. “This one too!” A deep red one was the exact same size.

She examined them carefully. “You’re right. Well you will need to grow into those!”

“No, please! I want you to have them. They are lovely. Don’t you like them?”

She looked at me curiously, “Yes I like them. This one especially” indicating the first.

“Try it on, then! Go on! You know you want to. There are some panties that go with it, too. Here!”

She needed no more urging and took them both from me. Without turning away, she pulled her sweater over her head and reaching behind her undid the hooks of her bra. Straightening her back she stood there semi-naked for a moment, a mischievous smile on her face.

I put my hands together and gently applauded. “Perfect!”

Rachel gave me a mock curtsey, then undid her jeans and slid them down her legs. She looked at me unashamedly, then sat on the bed and took off the panties she was wearing while I watched mesmerised.

She looked like a goddess as she slipped out of them and an involuntary sigh escaped me. Rachel merely smiled at this, accepting my admiration like it was the most natural thing in the world. She picked up the bra and slipped into it. With a little tweaking, it fit her beautifully, framing her shapely breasts. With the matching panties on she looked about as perfect as any woman could be.

“Now I want to see you in one of these as well” she said earnestly. “Which shall it be?”

In reply I undid my blouse and removed my skirt to show her the pretty set I already had on.

“Oh I really approve, you sexy minx! You fill that out beautifully.”
I got another lingering hug which felt incredibly sensual. It was delicious to feel her soft warm skin against mine.

“Now, let’s have that girlie talk!” Rachel pulled back the covers and pushed me back on the bed. She swept my legs up on to it before sliding in next to me. Pressed up against her so closely, it seemed there could be no secrets between us.

“You asked me why your mood changed last night. Okay? First, you were longing for my little brother to hold you in those strong arms of his. You wanted him to kiss you and run his hands over you. Hmmm… and then nothing?”

I nodded dumbly.

“Welcome to being a girl!” she said simply. “It happens to most of us!”

More seriously, “It’s a hormone thing; to do with a woman’s cycle. Take me. I know that while I like sex, for most of my ‘month’ I hardly think about it. I can take it or leave it. I would have to be with someone who really gets to me for me to want to do anything about it. Understand?”

I nodded, “Mm mmm.”

“But then some time about the end of my second week, for two or three days I feel different. My boobs seem to be in the way and I’m really aware of my body, down below. I hate feeling that way, but I can’t seem to help it and it just feels like I really want to, you know, most of the time.” she continued.
“Another day or so and it passes.” She sighed before going on. “Well during those days when I’m turned on, the least little thing can turn me off again. It’s crazy, but I’m up and down like a jumping jack! I think something like that is what happened to you. You don’t have the same monthly cycle but you are sensitive at times, like me when I’m ‘on’. One minute you’re up and you’re turned on, but it’s a fragile thing. It doesn’t take much to knock you down again.”

I thought about what she’d said.

“Does that help?”

“I guess it does. It could explain a lot.” I looked into her kind eyes as I considered her words some more. A question had formed in my head and, greatly daring, I asked it. “Is that what was happening when you… er… went with Marty?”

Rachel’s eyes widened but to my relief there was a hint of humour behind them. “You certainly know how to put a girl on the spot, sister!” She reflected some, then, “No, I wouldn’t feel so bad if it had been that time in the month for me, but I can’t blame my hormones. I have to admit I was a complete fool. Anyway I try and avoid going out on dates around those times, these days. Too many girls get caught that way. I ought to understand my own body. I’m a trained nurse, or will be very soon.”

There followed a lull in our conversation. It was eventually broken by Rachel and it was her turn ask an awkward question. “Are you still seeing him?”

I shook my head. “We finished.”

Her eyebrows raised in response to my subdued reply. I had to elaborate further. “Over the summer we went out quite a bit. It was fun but in the end I got the feeling we were about done. We both felt the same so it was okay.”

I went on, “Marty did change. He became a more serious person and, I guess, nicer, if that doesn’t sound strange. He was always quite thoughtful towards me. But he’s so much older than I am. We were both ready to move on.”

She was silent and when I looked up at her she was studying me gravely. There was a hint of amusement that lingered behind her eyes. Its source soon became apparent. “You haven’t asked me!”

“Asked you?”

“Yes, asked me! Don’t you want to know? When I’m going to be ‘on’? This month?” she asked archly.

“Er… Er… When?” It was my turn for my eyes to widen as in response she moved her leg over mine and rubbed the soft inside of her thigh against me.

“When?” She looked down and giggling, coloured slightly. “Right now!”

I froze as the realisation of what she was saying sunk into my mind. I couldn’t believe what was happening but I felt my idol stretch herself across me and with legs wide press herself hard against my hip.

“Remember your first lesson with Madeleine Bell?”

How could I forget? The topic had been fore-play with a hands on demonstration of how to bring a woman to climax.

“Feel like doing some revising?” Her hand slid over my butt and squeezed it while she pressed herself against my hip again. This was amazing. Her proximity was making me as horny as I’d ever been. My breathing had become short and heavy. I had never let myself even dream something like this could ever happen with Rachel.

She directed my hands onto her wonderful bust and smiled at me encouragingly. Her voluptuous curves felt amazingly soft. It was all I could do not to tremble with the excitement I was feeling. I gulped, then eased my thumbs under the hem of her bra so that I could lift it up to fully reveal the exquisite breasts it concealed. Next moment my hands were full of her sumptuous flesh. This was going to be heaven! Before we could go any further, however, an unwelcome noise arrested us. It was the sound of a car drawing up in the driveway below. The engine stopped. Mom had returned!

“Oh what perfect timing!” Rachel lay back and laughed weakly. “I really must speak to your mother about it, sometime!”
Aargh!