“Are you ready?” called Amber from outside. “What’s taking so long?”
What was taking so long was that I was choosing between being Good Girl or Bad Girl Kelsey. I could go with the black one-piece and come across as a decent, modest girl who liked having fun. Or I could go with the gold bikini and present myself as a skanky hooch capable of doing the dirtiest acts. At that moment, my phone buzzed again.
Oh my god, just vomited into the toilet from the flu, read Rick’s text. Will miss you sooo much tomorrow babe.
That did it. This guy was so full of shit, and with a snort, I loosened the gold bikini from the hanger and began draping it over my considerable assets. Oh wow. This was going to be even more revealing that I’d previously thought because I’ve put on some weight recently, and the outfit covered next to nothing. My ginormous Double Ds swung this way and that, the pink areola barely hidden by fabric. Plus the bottoms were no better. They formed a floss between my rounded butt cheeks before spreading into a tiny triangle that barely masked my pussy lips. In fact, if I was being honest, you could see the imprint of my crease beneath the fabric, it was so tight and small at the same time.
But staring at myself in the mirror, I wiggled my ass defiantly, watching as the creamy mounds bumped and jumped. Because Rick couldn’t treat me like this, and I wasn’t going to take his bad behavior lying down. I was going to go out tonight and have fun, six month anniversary be damned. So with another defiant shake of my brown curls, I slipped into a short gold cover-up that matched my bikini. It looked like I was wearing a cocktail dress that molded my curves, ready for a night out.
And when I stepped out of the bathroom, Amber nodded approvingly, also decked out to the nines in her own skanky outfit.
“See doll?” she asked. “It always feels better to put on make-up and go out instead of dwelling on the bad stuff, right? Now we’re going to have fun,” she grinned. But when I leaned over to pull on my shoes, Amber shook her head.
“Nuh-uh, you can’t wear those,” she said emphatically, blonde hair swinging. “Kels, those shoes are going to ruin your whole outfit.”
I knew what my friend was saying. The jelly flip-flops were hardly a match for my come-hither outfit, even if they were cute and waterproof to boot. I sighed, twisting my head to look at her with one foot already slipped into a shoe.
“I can’t wear high heels,” was my protest. “I’ve been on my feet the entire day working at the country club, and my calves are exhausted. I’d wear sneakers if I could,” was my dark remark.
But Amber wasn’t taking no for an answer. She disappeared into her closet for a moment before reappearing with a pair of gold slingbacks.
“Ta-da!” she announced with a triumphant smile. “Sweetie, you can’t wear those. Take these instead. I agree, these heels are high, but they’ll make you look absolutely ravishing. Plus, you just can’t when it comes to those flat shoes. Not with that outfit,” she said, making a face.
I rolled my eyes before taking the stilettos reluctantly. Because these heels weren’t just to die for, I probably would literally die in them since they were like skyscrapers. At least five inches, my feet were arched uncomfortably to the point that I thought I might teeter over and fall flat on my face, landing on the floor in a messy heap.
But when I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror, all protests stopped because it was a new me. The shoes really lent something to the outfit. Suddenly, my breasts were thrust forward and my hips pulled in, my legs looking impossibly long and toned.
“See?” giggled Amber, throwing her purse over one shoulder. “You look amazing Kels. Let’s go before it gets late. I heard they’re going to have fireworks and I don’t want to miss the show.”
With another sigh, I grabbed my bag and slung it over one shoulder before teetering unsteadily down the walk to Amber’s car.
“Okay, but if I break my neck wearing these, it’s on you,” was my playful grumble. “Whoops!” was my cry as I stumbled on a random rock lying in the drive.
But Amber was already revving the car, the headlamps of her little red Fiat coming on and basking my legs in a glow.
“Come on,” she called, tooting the horn impatiently. “Let’s go Kelsey! Girls just wanna have fun!”
And finally, I was able to make it to the side of the car before opening the door and carefully lowering my curvy form into the low bucket seat. Not a moment too soon because immediately we were off, despite the fact that my legs weren’t all the way in the car yet.