Dressed for Pleasure

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Dressed for Pleasure Page 14

by D. L. Savage


  Holy shit, I thought.

  This was nothing at all like I’d imagined sex to be.

  It was so much better ...

  * * *

  The next morning, I woke with a start, wondering for a moment where the hell I was. But then I sensed the warm bulk of Mike’s sleeping body pressed against me from behind and it all came flooded back. As I shifted in bed, I realized I was still wearing the panties and bra, and I hadn’t washed off my makeup either. But a tentative touch of my face sent a pang of horror through me, as my fingertips grazed against the hard prickle of stubble.

  There was no mirror within reach, but I knew I must look a total fright: smeared makeup and a five o’ clock shadow weren’t exactly ladylike, and crazy as it sounds, that’s exactly how I wanted to stay. Especially this morning, when Mike set eyes on me again.

  So I carefully slipped out from under the sheets, being extra careful not to wake him, then dashed out of the room. Once I was in the safety of the hall, I padded through to Ariel’s bedroom, where I picked out a fresh pair of cute pink panties and a matching bra from her underwear drawer, as well as a selection of makeup from her dresser.

  Then I headed to the bathroom, to freshen myself up a little ...

  * * *

  “There you are,” Mike grinned, laying sprawled out in his bed now, his muscular arms resting behind his head as I strode back into the room, making sure to keep my movements fluid and graceful and sexy. "Wow, you’re looking good,” he added.

  “Thanks,” I smiled back, glad I’d got his approval.

  But the truth was, deep down I already knew how hot I looked. I’d quickly shaved and retouched my makeup, and the pink bra and panties looked even better on my body than yesterday’s white set.

  “C’mere,” Mike purred, holding open the covers for me to get inside with him, my eager eyes unable to ignore the quick flash of his naked body; in particular his cock which looked fully hard, laying meatily against his washboard abs.

  “But Mike,” I grinned as I slipped back into bed with him, letting my fingers trace up and down his chest, getting closer and closer to that hot thick prize between his legs, “what about the movie? We still have so much to shoot.”

  “Baby,” he replied, saying something I never thought I’d hear, “the movie can wait ...”

  Hostess

  1

  It seemed just my luck. My first year of college was over, and while my two roommates went off travelling all around Europe for the summer, I was left hanging out in our rented apartment, broke and looking for work.

  “I’m sure you’ll have fun,” Ellie said unconvincingly, as she hugged me goodbye at the door, before grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulders.

  “Yeah, have a great summer, man,” Drew added, punching me playfully on the shoulder and flashing me a grin, before putting on his backpack, too. “Oh shit,” he added, as his cellphone chimed in his hand. “That’s our Uber. We’d better scoot or we’ll miss our flight ...”

  Just like that, the two of them raced out of the apartment, leaving me alone in the hallway, wondering what the fuck I was going to do all summer long. What made me feel even worse was that I couldn’t help but imagine all the crazy fun and adventures the two of them would be having without me.

  Don’t get me wrong, I cared about my friends and hoped they had an awesome holiday, but things had changed so much between us. When we’d first met, back in our freshman year, we’d been this super tight knit group, but after we moved in together, I guess that was when things began to change. Ellie and Drew started sleeping together, and they even kept it hidden from me at first, perhaps worried that I’d be upset or something. Truth was, when they finally told me, I was a little bummed out. But I was happy for them too.

  They made a really good couple, and we still hung out together all the time, but even so, I guess something changed. They’d even been nice enough to invite me along on their backpacking trip, but even if I had been able to afford it, I don’t think I would’ve gone. It kinda sucks to be the third wheel.

  A part of me wondered if I should have gone back home for the summer – back to my mom’s house in Michigan. At least then I’d probably find work and build up my dwindling savings a little. But at the same time, I’d grown so used to having my own space I just couldn’t give it up, and I hoped to god that my plan would come through and I’d find a job that would cover my rent, plus give me a little extra money and hours off to enjoy myself.

  At nineteen years old, it was the first time I’d lived totally alone in a big city – and I was looking forward to the experience, maybe even finding out a little more about myself and doing some much needed growing up. Because I’d spent my whole life doing exactly what other people wanted me to do, always focusing hard on my studies and putting schoolwork and exams ahead of exploring and having fun.

  As I walked back through to the living room, I paused outside the door to Drew’s room, staring in at his messy bedroom, in particular the set of barbells he kept there, which he used to maintain his impressive, toned physique. Unlike me, Drew was big and built, tanned and handsome, and brimming with natural confidence. It was no surprise at all that Ellie had fallen for him instead of me, and I felt embarrassed that I still harbored a tiny secret crush on her.

  Without even really knowing what I was doing, I found myself walking into his room and pausing in front of the large mirror by his weights, pulling off my t-shirt and grimly assessing my skinny pale torso in the mirror. I began to wonder what might happen if I used his weights every day – whether there was any way I too might be able to build myself up over the summer break, and finally transform into the kind of guy chicks like Ellie always went for.

  I knew the idea wasn’t totally absurd – I’d seen enough of those crazy YouTube videos to know that skinny dweebs like me could transform themselves into buff, toned dudes if they tried hard enough – but at the same time, I wondered if I had the discipline and endurance to see something like that through.

  I reached down and tentatively wrapped my fingers around the bar of the smallest set of weights, then pulled hard, gritting my teeth and straining all my muscles as I tried to lift it, but after using all my strength, I found I couldn’t even get the damn thing more than a few inches off the floor.

  God damn it, I thought frustratingly. I’m so fucking pathetic ...

  As I stared angrily at myself in the mirror, it didn’t help that my long blonde hair looked so stupid, falling around my skinny pale shoulders. I’d been growing it ever since I first moved away for college and I’d been hoping it made me look like some carefree surfer dude or maybe a hipster guy in an indie band. But standing there in Drew’s room, feeling the depression building inside me as I stared coldly at myself in the mirror, I knew the truth ...

  I looked like a girl.

  * * *

  Thud, thud, thud, thud ...

  I was woken awake in the early hours of the morning by a sound I’d never heard before. Well, I had heard it before – it was unmistakably the muffled thump of a kick drum, hammering along in a steady house beat – but I’d never it coming from right below our apartment.

  Ever since we’d lived there, the commercial building directly below our apartment block had stood vacant. I hadn’t even noticed any changes taking place – building works or whatever – but someone must have moved in, due to the loud thump-thump-thump that was emanating through the floor of my room.

  What’s more, it sounded like the place was packed full of people, partying away. I could hear the low murmur of male voices and the high chatter of female laugher and whoops, mingling with the thumping beat and pulsing bass line of whatever music was playing.

  I grabbed a hold of my phone from where it lay, charging at the side of the bed, and checked the time: 3:47am.

  At my age, I should be out somewhere, partying like that, not lying alone in my bed, I thought sadly.

  And at that very moment, the universe seemed to conspire �
� deciding to rub fresh salt in the wound – as mingled in with the laughter and music, I heard another noise too: the breathy, sexy moans of a girl in what sounded like a state close to orgasm.

  I felt my blood charge with fresh curious excitement as I tried to tune in to the noise, all remaining tiredness now gone from my body as I listened hard, picking out yet more sexy moans and sighs.

  Holy shit, I thought, feeling my dick stiffening in my boxer shorts, am I living above a sex club or something?

  I knew I was in no fit state to go and investigate this place right there and then, but I vowed to myself that first thing in the morning, I’d do some online sleuthing and try to get to the bottom of this mysterious new club ...

  2

  When I woke the next morning, the strange sounds of last night seemed like a distant memory, and I even began to wonder if perhaps I’d dreamt it. I reached down from my bed, tugging my cellphone free of its charging cable, and immediately set to work googling, but there seemed to be no mention whatsoever of a club of any kind opening up in my neighborhood. It was a little way out of the city and, apart from a few bodegas and a sports bar, the area was mostly just residential.

  Maybe I did dream it after all, I thought, as I pushed myself out of bed and then walked lazily in the direction of the bathroom, figuring I’d better have a shower if I was going to put my plan into action.

  You see, I’d decided that the best way to find work was to dress up smart and actually go into the city to ask in shops and bars and cafes if they needed work. I’d heard that if you showed your face, and talked to a manager, that worked a lot better than simply leaving a resume at the counter or applying online.

  It was only as I set the shower that I remembered I was all of toiletries – there was only the teensiest squirt of my shower gel left, barely enough to wash my hands – and I’d totally run out of shampoo and conditioner, too.

  Luckily, a quick survey of the shelves told me that Ellie had left a bunch of her stuff behind: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, the works. Okay, so the sweet floral scent of her wash wasn’t exactly the most masculine, and neither was the shampoo – which claimed to give super volume and bounce – but I figured what the hell. It was probably all the same chemicals as the stuff I normally used, just a little sweeter smelling ...

  * * *

  A little while later, I found myself standing in front of my mirror, now dressed in the smartest black skinny jeans I owned and a plain black t-shirt, sighing with frustration. Because that volumizing shampoo of Ellie’s was crazy strong. My normally thin, limp hair suddenly looked like something out of a hair care advert: thick and glossy and bouncy, and it did little to make me look less feminine.

  Maybe it’s time to get it cut short, I thought sadly. After all, it had done little to get me chicks the way I’d hoped it might, and I knew deep down that short hair would probably suit me better and make me look more like a normal dude, so I figured I’d swing by the barber’s shop on my way downtown.

  But the idea of leaving the house like this – with my hair all glossy and thick and shiny – had my stomach twisting up in nervous apprehension. I only ever tied it up occasionally and I was always losing my hair ties, but I figured Ellie probably had a bunch in her room.

  So with another frustrated sigh, I headed down the hall, then paused outside her door, wondering whether to go in. I knew it was fine, after all we were good friends, and if I’d asked her for a hair tie, she’d have given me one no sweat. But the idea of going into her room without her permission made me feel weird somehow. I didn’t want her to think I was snooping around in her stuff, especially when I had a secret crush on her, and I told myself that I’d just quickly dash in and out and not disturb any of her things.

  After a final deep breath to steal myself, I reached out and pushed open the door to her room, then stepped inside.

  Unlike Drew’s, which was untidy and a little musty-smelling, Ellie’s room was neat and bright, and smelt only of a light floral scent, not a million miles away from me, after I’d washed myself in her products.

  I looked around, from the freshly made bed with its bright pink and turquoise comforter, to her dresser and mirror, with all kinds of pots and tubes of makeup set out on top. I wandered over to it, idly looking at the various beauty products, as I tried to locate a hair tie, but the closest thing I could spot were a couple of metal clips.

  I turned and scanned the rest of the room – wondering where else she might keep them. There was a little nightstand by her bed, but that didn’t have anything on it, and I didn’t want to start opening the drawers and searching inside.

  Similarly, there was a set of drawers and a cupboard on the far wall, but again, I didn’t want to turn into some creepy housemate, rooting around in his female friend’s panty drawer or whatever.

  I was about to turn and leave, when I noticed something small and black laying on the floor by one of the feet of her bed, and when I knelt down to examine it, I saw that it was a scrunchie. I picked it up, assessing it, wondering whether or not it would make me look more or less girly to tie my hair in a ponytail using it. Sure, from the back it would look a little weird, but at least it would keep my stupidly voluminous, glossy hair in check – until I could make it to the barber’s. And what was the chances of anyone I know seeing me in it, anyway?

  So I padded over to the mirror, grabbing hold of my hair and pulling it tight, then wrapping the scrunchie around it, twice over, before checking out the result in the mirror. It looked about the way I expected – kind of girly, but at least it kept my hair out of my face and had tamed it a little.

  Finally glad to have solved my problem, I made my way out of Ellie’s room again – vowing to myself to return the scrunchie to the foot of her bed as soon as I didn’t need it any more – then put on my sneakers, grabbed my keys and backpack, and headed out of the apartment ...

  * * *

  In my hunt for a hair tie, I’d all but forgotten the weird club downstairs, but as I stepped onto the sunny sidewalk that morning, it shot straight back into my mind. And as I turned to look at the building, I saw that sure enough, it had been subtly renovated – transforming from what had always looked like an empty boarded up shop front into what was now an anonymous black frontage, with just a single black door, but no sign or number or anything.

  And what was even weirder was that there seemed a small group of girls all standing outside the door, as if waiting for something. They were all about my own age – nineteen or twenty or so – and each of them was dressed in simple black clothes. They were all hot, too, and I found myself wondering why they were there.

  Surely they weren’t about to attend some daytime sex party or something? I wondered, as the memory drifted back into my head of the moans and groans I’d heard the night before.

  Just then, the sound of a heavy bold sliding back behind the door cut through the silence, and a moment later the door opened and a stunningly beautiful brunette in her mid twenties, dressed in black, with subtle but glamorous makeup appeared, shooting the crowd of girls a warm smile, then beckoning them inside.

  I watched on from a few feet away on the sidewalk, rooted to the spot by pure curiosity, my stomach lurching as the pretty woman at the doorway caught eyes with me for a moment, a quizzical expression flashing across her face just moments before I tore my eyes away and made to leave.

  But as I was turning to go, I heard her call out, “Hey, you!”

  I turned back, and she shot me a grin, like she was trying to reassure me of something.

  “You’re here for the job interview, right?” she said, in a soft warm voice, her dark eyes latching onto mine and her glossy lips curling into a playful smile.

  Job interview? I thought, as what felt like a million thoughts rushed through my head simultaneously.

  Even though I knew it was crazy, attending an interview when I didn’t even know what I was interviewing for, I began to think about how damn sweet it would be if I could get a job rig
ht below my own apartment building – and with a bunch of hot chicks in some mysterious, sexy club no less!

  So I took a deep breath, figuring what the hell, before shooting her back what I hoped was a confident winning smile as I replied, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

  My heart began to drum hard in my chest as I walked nervously towards the door, then stepped inside ...

  3

  I followed the woman down a corridor and into a small, sparsely furnished room. The other four girls were already sitting on chairs in silence, and I caught a couple of them glancing up at me curiously as I arrived.

  “What’s your name?” the woman asked me.

  “Alex,” I replied, trying to sound confident, but hearing my voice lurch awkwardly from my lips in a quiet, high pitched croak.

  “Well, take a seat, Alex, and we’ll call you in shortly.”

  As I took my place next to a thin pale girl with hair so blonde it was almost white and strikingly blue eyes, I found myself wondering all over again just what this place even was. The plain white and grey décor of the waiting room gave nothing away, and I felt too nervous now to actually ask any of the girls. For a start it would make me sound like a total fool – some dude who’d just stumbled in off the street (which I guess I was) – but on top of that, they were all so damn pretty, I knew I’d find myself stuttering and mumbling, the way I always did when trying to talk to hot chicks.

  So instead I just stayed quiet, pressing my hands between my knees as I waited to be called in. Slowly but surely the woman called the others in, one by one – first Ashley, who was a petite brunette with thick curly hair, then Penny, who was a curvy redhead, then Chloe, the pale blonde girl to my left.

 

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