The first time I dressed was exciting. It was such a thrill to put on the panties and pretty skirt and do my make-up; although I admit I looked just trampy that first time. But there was no danger, no risk, all alone in my bedroom. My legs and groin, freshly shaven, and my dark hair in curls and cascading around my shoulders. I looked like a girl to me and every time I did it I think I got better.
Now the first time I went outside though, I was terrified. My figure is slim and my face is boyish, if not girlish. I put on white knee socks and the schoolgirl skirt that actually came from St. Ursula's, where my sister went. It's all black but with an inner red pleat that gives splashes of color as you walk. It's short like a cheer skirt, almost too short. The white shirt fit tight over the barely stuffed "A" cup bra. Nothing over the top for this first time, and if I was noticed... well perhaps I was going to a costume party, would be the excuse. I spent hours on the make-up and my body was bathed and powdered to perfection. I looked like a girl, smelled like a girl, I felt like a girl, or so I thought.
I got looks, but I wasn't sure if it was because I was pretty or if it was because they knew. I walked down the quiet sidewalk at twilight time with the soft lighting hopefully playing in my favor. The black leather shoes clicked as I moved, and a black backpack on one shoulder. I headed for the "L" train to get across town. As the sun sank lower everything had a pink haze and the city was quieting down. I caught sight of myself at a station window with the ceiling light behind me. I smiled at the pretty Latina girl before me. "I should have worn glasses." I thought; another distraction to pull the eyes away from the adam's apple. But I looked good. I looked sweet, if even just to me.
As I stepped into the train car I kept my face down and quickly moved for the back. Here were the "ugly" lights that showed it all, illuminating our flaws and magnifying our shortcomings. I bit my lip in concern and didn't turn my eyes to anyone, but I was sure one old guy was checking out my legs as I moved past. I sat gently with my knees together and the backpack across my lap. Now I stole glances around the car, always with my eyes cast downward and my back hunched a little, covering for my lack of boobs.
There were just a few folks on. Rush hour was long ago. And the old guy WAS checking my legs. I smiled a little to myself and let them cross. Bobbing my foot as if bored. Near the door was a young man and I caught him stealing glances too. He was tall and Black Latino mix, maybe, or his mamma was just white. He had his hair cropped short, but it had waves and not the tight curl, and he had that little Cuban mustache that almost looks like it's drawn on with eyebrow pencil. I moved the book bag and crossed my legs the other way. The skirt road up like I knew it would and I waited before pushing it down. He was watching and my heart beat faster. I smoothed the skirt and then let my hand slide along my light ochre-colored thigh. He boldly watched now and then his eyes met mine until I finally turned away, but I smiled at him once or twice and he gave a little seductive grin back.
As my stop came up I had to move by him at the door. His eyes were on me the whole way as he still sat there. I tried not to look but his eyes covered me up and down. Finally, as the double doors opened he spoke before I stepped off.
"Chica, tell me you're coming home this way and I'll ride all night."
His grin got bigger and I caught the sexual innuendo in that and couldn't help but blush. I had my first proposition and my heart was soaring.
"Um, I'll be at the library for two hours." I stammered, not believing I just said that. I know my cheeks were red. I could feel the heat coming off of them.
"Good to know." His whole face grinned now and he nodded slowly as if just given an intimate secret.
"Bye," I barely got out of my mouth as I stepped off the train.
As it pulled away I stood there. My heart was fluttering like the old love poems say. A smile came across my face and a giddy feeling in my soul. For a moment I was a girl. I attracted a boy and he saw a girl. He flirted with me and had made me feel pretty, made me feel sexy. I held my hands like little fists in front of my chest and shook them with glee and victory before I scampered off down the station steps.
I didn't actually go to the library, but to Bloomingdale's. I wanted to buy things. I wanted to shop. I got some hair bands and the cutest navy blue bra. I didn't know what I'd wear with it but maybe I'd just walk around the apartment with it. I had a new sense of sexiness and was feeling so feminine. I hoped it would last. I got some looks from sales ladies that I'm sure knew, but a CD in Chicago was hardly anything new. I spent my evening out getting pretty things and I popped them all in the backpack and was finally ready to go home.
I got on the train and he wasn't there. Part of me was disappointed and part of me was relieved. I went back and sat where I was in the corner before. There was only a couple in my car and they got off after two stops. Finally, the train got me home and as I stepped onto the platform he stepped out of a corner.
"Hey, little thing." He called for my attention and startled me as he came out of the shadows to the left.
I couldn't help being alarmed and backed away a little while hugging the backpack in front of me.
He chuckled, "Ah, don't be scared, chica." He walked right up to me in a few long steps even as my feet still shuffled backwards. He brought up the backs of two fingers and stroked my cheek. "I won't hurt you. You said two hours and this is where you got on." He smiled at himself. "What's your name, chica?"
He looked me up and down with obvious lust and blocked my way, but this is what I wanted, wasn't it? "R-rosa." I stammered nervously.
"Rosa?" he said slowly as if tasting the word on his lips. "You are a pretty little thing, Rosa."
I blushed and thanked him, "What's your name?" I added boldly.
"Nick." He gave it away easily.
Nick had backed me up to the wall of the platform without touching me. His large body was so close to mine, and he reached up to stroke my face again. "How come I never seen you before, Rosa?"
"I- I don't go out much." He made me so nervous with his demeanor, but his attention was intoxicating and I dared not leave only to lose it.
I felt his fingers slide along my jawline and gently to the back of my neck. He pulled me closer. "You must study all the time. Are you a good girl, chica?" He whispered it like an accusation.
I didn't know the answer he wanted. "Not all the time." I finally confessed, my voice barely a whisper and shaky.
And then he kissed me. My hands went up instinctively in protection, but they stopped on his firm chest as any resistance melted away. I Think I actually purred in pleasure as his hot mouth pressed to mine. I felt him press me to the steel paneled wall, and one hand glide down my skirt-covered thigh and back up to grip a handful of my ass. He manhandled me, but his lips stayed put and his kiss was like constant electricity to my spine. His right hand still held me by the nape of my neck while he ground against me in the platform's shadows. Nick's thigh rubbed into my crotch and ground my hardening penis there.
My eyes popped open because he had to have felt it, but I looked into soft brown eyes that gave a wink as he broke the kiss.
