Julia carefully stepped into the dress
and pulled up the snug fabric until it slid over her hips. She reached
in with her arms and pulled up on the dress, a black number she reserved for
special occasions, until it came atop her shoulders. She then craned
her neck and fidgeted with her hands behind her back until she had
caught the end of the zipper, pulling it up until she reached the hook.
She reached back with her right hand, behind her neck, and slipped it shut.
She then took a few paces over to the mirror and viewed herself.
She smiled at her reflection as she stepped to the side and could see her
racy form. Her breasts jutted out with boldness and lack of reserve.
How many times had she caught her friend Mark peeking at them when he must have thought she was not noticing? She did notice, a few times at least. Secretly, it thrilled her so. Perhaps one day she would tell him how much he really mattered and then they could talk! How they could talk! She many times spent her evenings dreaming of him and even fantasizing they were on this adventure together, if only one day for real. She promised herself she would be more bold but, when he came, she remained reserved, happy instead at least they were friends.
It was then the doorbell rang.
Julia skipped downstairs on her long,
long, legs. She had a way of sidestepping her steps as she came to the
bottom. She hurried for the door and opened it. There stood Mark
Runnells!
"Oh! I was just thinking of you,"
she declared as she moved forward to hug him, amidst her excitement.
It was then that Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.
Julia blinked several times. She stepped back and closed the door.
Mark stood waiting, silently. "Well,
are you going to open it?"
Julia was speechless for a time as she
cradled the small white box. She moved slowly over to the long, black
leather sofa and gracefully took her seat. Mark rather fell back, all
at ease and relaxed.
"You can open it anytime now," he urged
her.
"Oh, Mark. I didn't know you going
to buy me anything," she declared as one hand reached atop her breast, "or
I would have gotten you a gift too." She looked at him and smiled.
"Well, you can open it and I will see
you smile, okay?"
Julia was about to open it when she paused
and added, "I hope it is not too expensive. I'm modest, you know."
Mark fanned his face a few times. Julia remained holding the box in
her grip.
"Oh yeah, modest, lean, rich. What
ever could be better?" he asked her, if she was listening, that is.
Julia held the box from the bottom and pulled open the white cardboard lid.
She gasped.
"Mark!" she said with surprise.
"It is beautiful." She reached into the box with both hand and pulled
the crystal out by its long, linked chain. It had been set on a pillow
of cotton swabbing. Julia just stood up and held it at arms length,
up high. It soon caught, or, more aptly put, absorbed the lighting in
the room. Julia stared into it and soon became rigid as her eyes lost
their focus.
Mark stood also and plucked the crystal from her motionless tender hands, replacing the crystal to its box again. He then began by snapping his fingers in Julia's ears and with a brief instruction had her follow him outside the mansion.
They walked down the lone driveway, past the rock wall and outside the wrought iron gate. Here, traffic was heavy and the sun shone bright. Mark posed Julia gracefully and then reached behind her neckline. He unzippered her dress, bringing it down to a puddle around her ankles, then stepped back and sat on top the rock wall. He glanced over at Julia's figure, the small of her back and the narrowness of her waist. Her body was only nestled in her tan push up bra and pink lace panties. Several times cars would slow down and gawk. So Mark remained here, watching and smiling. Julia always made a good statue.
Why didn't he bring his camera this time?
End?