My sincere thanks to visioneer who polished my story up with his editing!
*****
It was about as risqué as Jeanette had ever dressed. She wore a dark, floral pattern mini-dress that fell to just above her knees. She had considered wearing a bra, but since the dress had support built in, she opted to go bare. A garter belt supported darker than natural silk stockings, and, over the garters, she wore sexy and lacy dark panties that were little more than a G-string. She put on her tallest high heels, strappy shoes with over 4" inch spiked heels. She had her hair pulled back in a pony tail with a few strategically loose strands to frame her face. She preferred little makeup, but had put on mascara to make her eyelashes pop and eye shadow that accentuated her blue eyes.
It was rare for her to dress up, so most thought of her as a tomboy. Really, though, it was a matter of comfort. She did not want to put on a face every morning and make sure it stayed nice during the day. However, she had taken her last final and, frankly, feeling relieved, decided to dress up, go out, and meet people, especially guys. She had repressed her needs all semester, rebuffing the few who had hit on her. Now, she was ready to go out and socialize.
She walked slowly in the tall heels from the dorms to the bus that would take her across campus to the party. It was at a house rented by some seniors that occasionally visited her dorm. She barely knew them, but they had invited everyone that wanted to show up. By the time she walked the five blocks from the nearest bus stop, her feet were sore, but she knew she looked as good as she could. The party was in full swing, cars were parking over a block away. A large man sat on a stool at the entrance to the house and eyed her as she walked up.
"Still plenty of keg left," he said staring at her breasts and offering a plastic cup. "Five bucks for a cup."
She dug through her small clutch for five singles and took the cup. She hated beer, but did not want to protest. She could hear the loud music within and wanted to dance and have fun.
The place was busy, the crowd was dense, mostly college aged, a few older and a few maybe younger. The place was sporadically lit by strobe lights and a mirrored disco ball with multicolored lasers reflecting off it. The music was techno house dance music with a driving beat. Smiling to herself as she turned a few heads, she bumped and excused herself through the throng of people until she found the keg down in the basement.
The house was small, but there was enough room in the basement for a pool table and a foosball table. She carried her half cup of beer upstairs, making sure to leave a few lipstick marks around the edge so it looked like she had been drinking. She found a spot in the living room and danced with a small group of other young women who had no partners. Within a few songs her feet were sore. She was not used to wearing heels and the torturous things were too much. She made her way to the lone couch in the living room and leaned alongside it.
She scanned the people in the room and saw a few familiar faces, but no one she really knew. A young man next to her on the couch tapped her leg and looked up at her with a deer-in-the-headlights look that made her feel sympathy for him. He was out of place here. Probably an engineering, mathematics, or computer science major, she thought.
He was saying something, and, when she leaned down to hear, his eyes stayed on hers and not on her breasts threatening to spill over her dress.
"Do you want my spot?" he asked her.
She smiled and nodded. "Thanks. These shoes are killing me."
They exchanged places, and he crouched next to her so they were at the same level.
"It's a great party," he said.
"Yeah," she said with a smile. He was not bad looking, fairly tall with meat on his bones. She liked a man that was not thin. He had shortish hair parted on one side.
"Elwood." He offered his hand.
"Jeanette," she said, taking his hand in hers. His large, calloused hands enveloped hers with a firm grip she was sure could hurt if unleashed fully. She was certain that whatever he did to get through college involved using his hands.
They chatted for while and he shifted kneeling positions a few times. A pre-med major, he was nice and plain spoken. She sensed he was getting uncomfortable.
"Take your spot back," she said.
"No, it's okay."
"Would you care to dance, then?" she said with a smile.
"Umm, well, I don't really know how."
She climbed to her feet and grasped his hands and began to dance. "Just move to the beat. Whatever you do will be fine."
