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By *stelle OP TV/TS 7 days ago
Cumbernauld |
So, we got to the party. I’m going to skip all the introductions and small talk, otherwise this story will take forever!
There were only four people there when I arrived, and two of them weren’t even in fancy dress. They were Susan’s nephew, Alex, and his army mate, Darren. Both were handsome lads in their late twenties, with the sort of well-toned physiques that suggested they spent more time in the gym than I did.
They were only popping in for a couple of drinks before heading through to Edinburgh for a night out, but I have to admit, they certainly caught my attention.
As Mark introduced us, I couldn’t help noticing Alex’s eyes wandering over me. Perhaps I was imagining it, or perhaps the outfit was doing exactly what I’d secretly hoped it would do. Either way, I had a feeling he was taking a little more interest in me than a polite introduction required.
I desperately needed another drink to settle my nerves.
I perched myself on one of the high stools at the breakfast bar, which overlooked the living area and its comfortable couches. Mark, being the attentive host he was, asked me what my poison was.
“Wine, as if you didn’t know!” I replied.
The evening gradually gathered momentum as more guests arrived. There were some brilliant costumes, plenty of laughter, and the drinks were flowing nicely. Before long, the initial awkwardness had disappeared, and the atmosphere was wonderfully relaxed.
Well, almost wonderfully relaxed. I was still acutely aware that I was dressed as a woman, surrounded by people who knew me as a bloke. Every now and again, I’d catch myself wondering whether anyone was looking too closely, or whether they could see just how much I was enjoying myself.
Then there was Alex.
He had settled onto the couch nearest the breakfast bar, and every few minutes I caught him looking in my direction. Our eyes would meet briefly, he’d look away, and then, sooner or later, I’d catch him doing it again.
Now, I’m not claiming to be an expert in body language, but even I know that when someone keeps looking at you and then quickly looks away, there’s usually a reason.
My wine was beginning to work its magic, and the nervousness that had followed me all evening was slowly giving way to a cheekier, more confident side of me.
I shifted slightly on my stool, allowing my legs to fall a little further apart while keeping both feet on the footrest.
Well, Alex, I thought to myself, if you’re going to keep looking, you might as well have something to look at.
I was feeling rather pleased with myself when, suddenly, Mark appeared right in front of me and completely shattered my little moment of silent flirtation.
“Where the fuck did you get these tits?” he blurted out. “They look so real! I can see your nipples through your blouse!”
So much for subtlety!
“I bought them for the party, mate,” I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Can I feel them?”
Honestly, you couldn’t make it up. There I was, sitting in my feminine outfit, trying to look every inch the part, and my best mate was treating my new boobs like a novelty exhibit at a country fair.
“Knock yourself out,” I said, laughing as I undid a button on my blouse.
Mark reached in and gave them a feel, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Fucking hell!”
It was pretty much the reaction I’d expected. The breast forms had clearly passed the first inspection, and Mark seemed genuinely impressed by how realistic they looked.
Just then, Darren wandered over, having caught the tail end of the conversation.
“What’s going on here, then?”
Mark explained, naturally making a bigger spectacle of the whole thing than was strictly necessary.
Darren looked at my chest and raised his eyebrows.
“Seriously? They look that real? Can I have a feel?”
By this point, I was laughing so much that any remaining nerves were rapidly disappearing.
“Why not?” I replied cheekily. “Go ahead. Get your hand under the bra and feel the real deal!”
All three of us burst out laughing.
It was ridiculous, completely unexpected, and somehow exactly the sort of thing that could happen when you put a few drinks, a fancy-dress party, and my particular sense of humour into the same room.
But while Mark and Darren were busy admiring my new assets, I couldn’t help wondering what Alex was making of all this.
Had he been watching the whole performance?
And if he had, was he simply amused by the joke, or was there something else behind those lingering looks? |