"No, seriously, there is nothing more horrifying to me than a Christmas party." Tara argued.
"Oh, stop. You missed our wedding, the least you could do is show up to my Christmas party." I pleaded.
"Do I have to dress up?" Tara pouted.
"Yes. It wouldn't kill you to get out of your black goth clothes for once!" I felt a little greedy for demanding this, but I was tired of Tara embarrassing me by showing up looking like she was 12 years old, to black tie events.
Tara and I had been friends for ten years. I didn't really care what Tara wore, I just loved her and didn't want her to get made fun of...again. Tara loved to dress like a little goth doll everywhere she went, but she didn't hang out with the Goths, she always wanted to hang out with me and my straight laced rich friends. My friends saw Tara as a "project". I saw Tara as a confused 39 year old who never grew up. And Tara just wanted people to accept her the "way she was". Ironically Tara made more of an issue about not fitting in and her clothes more than anyone around her. I had consistently told Tara that she wasn't her black lipstick, flaming red hair and costumes, those were just masks. But to no avail. Tara saw her exterior as who she was, but always tried to fit in outside of her social class, without changing her outward appearance. An impossible task for anyone.
"You're trying to kill me aren't you?" Tara scowled.
"No, If I was trying to kill you, I'd have a gun. Here. Take this." I demanded.
"What's this?" Tara asked as she took the shopping bag I gave her.
"This is YOUR outfit. Shoes, black cocktail dress, pearl necklace and earrings, golden snake bracelet." I smiled.
"I am soooo not wearing this!" Tara pouted as she threw the bag on the couch.
"The hell you are! I'm tired of you complaining. You want to be 40 and single? Or do you want that lawyer you've been eyeing? A Lawyer is never going to take a 40 year old goth doll to an office party. No matter how young you look! Maybe fuck you in bed in secret but he'll never be with you. Is that what you want?" I finally lost it.
Tara started crying.
"Oh god. Just put the damn clothes on and look in the mirror. Have you ever tried on a cocktail dress before?"
"No I haven't." Tara sniffed, as she picked up the shopping bag and dug through the items.
"Here. I'll help you." I smiled.
Tara slowly undressed in front of me. I couldn't help but to watch. Tara's skin was porcelain and her breasts were a perfectly firm c cup. She was only 5'1", but her body was perfectly proportionate.
"Here. Let me help you put this on. You'll need to take your bra off. The dress has a halter top with a built in bra." I turned my head away and Tara took off her bra.
I turned back and saw Tara awkwardly standing naked except for her black g-string panties.
"Oh, sorry here." I said as I handed Tara the dress. Tara slipped it over her head and I fixed the halter top. "See it twists like this to form a peak a boo tear drop over your cleavage. It shows just enough! Now stand in front of the mirror."
Tara did as directed, and stood awkwardly staring at her own very womanly figure. "I don't like it. It's too sexy."
"Yeah and your 39 and single. Its just a Christmas party, you'll be fine."
"I'm not looking to get laid. I'm not like you Sarah, you know I don't have sex. This will give them the wrong impression."