Ken turned the water on in the shower, and waited for it to warm up. He had already spent most of the day getting ready; collecting the tux and other accessories from the hire shop, going to the barber for a haircut and a shave, even spending fifteen minute polishing his shoes until they gleamed. He was as nervous as a teenager taking a girl out for the first time. He smiled to himself as he looked down at the freshly trimmed pubic hair; it was the first time he had done any 'manscaping', but Christy had commented about not wanting to get a hair stuck between her teeth.
With the water hot and steaming, he stood under the stream, getting his body completely soaked. First the shampoo, washing his hair, getting all the small fragments from the haircut rinsed out. Then soap, lathering his body, washing under his arms, his groin, making sure everything was fresh and clean. Finally, he turned off the hot water, to end with a cold rinse.
Once out of the shower and dry, Ken started to get dressed. First the shirt, fiddling with the shirt studs buttoning it up, then the pants. The bow tie just didn't want to tie up properly.
"Damn thing," he cursed. "Just how hard can these fucking things be to do up?"
Just as he was about to give up, and use a pre-tied bow tie, it somehow cooperated. On with the jacket, then a final comb through the hair, and he was ready to go. Halfway to the door he stopped, and turned around, back to the bathroom. A nervous pee – "I don't want to have to rush to a bathroom as soon as we get there" he said to justify it.
Ken programmed the car GPS with Christy's address – he had only checked it three times to make sure he knew it, and the best way to get there. Driving across the bridge, he saw the Renaissance hotel, the destination for the night. For years had had driven past the building, and wondered what was behind the huge picture window, two floors from the top of the building. Now he knew; a large ballroom and restaurant, where there was a fancy dinner / dance every Saturday night.
One of the other guys at work, Thommo, had told him about it; he took his wife there a few weeks earlier for their anniversary. There was a special package deal; dinner, dancing, a room on one of the upper floors, room service breakfast the next day, and late checkout on Sunday. Ken was initially hesitant about suggesting this to Christy as their first date; with the implication that he was hoping (expecting?) to sleep with her. She immediately jumped at the idea, wanting to spend the night together in the hotel room.
"Of course I will want to spend the night with you, silly," were her exact words. "That's what we've been talking about all along!"
And now he was on his way to pick her up for this special first date, they would most certainly be sleeping together after what should be a romantic evening of dancing and dining.
Meanwhile, Christy was getting ready; her sister was trying to help.
"Sissy, you didn't get your pussy completely waxed!" she said to her in exasperation. "Didn't I tell you that guys love a completely bare pussy? Does Ken like it smooth and hairless? Didn't you ask him? What if when he goes down on you, and gets a hair on the back of his tongue?"
"God, just shut up, won't you?" Christy replied. "For fuck's sake, I got my pubes trimmed, it's not like I'm really bushy there anyway, my legs and pits have been done, and that's good enough! I'm no good at shaving there by myself, and Ken offered to shave me, we just won't be doing that this weekend. There's a lot of stuff we've talked about doing, not just having him shave my pussy, but for our first date, we want to keep things simple, not go too far."
"But..." she continued.
"Look, you're making me even more nervous than I already am, going on like that. If you want to be helpful, and then help me get these cups fitted inside the dress, I can't wear a bra with this gown, and I want something to give a bit of support," Christy said, holding up the inserts.
"Just how the fuck are they meant to go on?" she swore. "I don't want my boobs falling out into the dinner plate!"
"Here, give them to me," her sister said, pushing Christy's hands out on the way. "Fuck, you would think after all these years you would know how to put a bra on. Maybe you have been too busy taking them off..."
"You should talk!" Christy chided her sister. "Who was it that got caught by Dad with her boyfriend in the kitchen ... Ow!" she cried out as her sister poked her in the stomach.
"I wasn't the only one," she replied. "Have you told Ken about what you used to do at night in the back yard? Maybe suggest getting out on the grass, naked..."
Christy and her sister got the cups attached to her breasts, and secured them with some tape.
"Shit, is that all there is to them?" Christy said. "Half of my tits are hanging out, and my nipples ... When I get turned on, and they get erect, it will be so fuckin' obvious, Ken will know for sure."
"Stop your whining," her sister said. "That's how they are meant to be, and so what if Ken knows your nipples are hard and erect. Do you think he wouldn't like to know that you are turned on and hot for him?"
"But he will be able to look down the front of my dress, and see fuckin' everything!" she continued, sounding very unhappy about it all. "I will look like some cheap slut!"
"You won't look cheap at all," her sister consoled her. "And trust me; he will take every chance he can get to look down the front of your dress to see your lovely tits, and see your hard nips. Before you know it, he will be so turned on, so horny for you that he will drag you up to your room and fuck your brains out. Isn't that the whole idea?"
Fifteen minutes, and several inches of double sided tape later, the push-up cups had been attached to Christy's breasts, and fitted inside the bodice of her dress. She looked at herself in the full length mirror, and reached inside to adjust her breasts.
"There, they look right," she said. "And they should stay in place, too. Bugger, I was going to put a panty liner in, too."
"Why?" her sister asked. "Don't tell me it's that time of the month? I though you started days ago..."
"God no, that finished last night, thank God," Christy replied. "The last thing I would want is to have my period right now. I want the liner there because Ken gets me so frickin' wet, and I don't want to leave any wet marks on the back of my dress, or on my chair."
There had been times, when they were chatting on line, when just listening to him, and his words, had got her so worked up, she didn't even need to touch herself to come. She couldn't imagine just how her body would react to being there with him, holding him, looking at him.
Her sister helped her pull her dress up around her waist; she pushed her panties down to her knees, and put the liner in place. She pulled it up, making sure the liner was snug against her pussy, and they lowered the dress back down, straightening it out.
"There," she said. "Safe and dry!"
"Now, have you got everything in your overnight bag you will need?" her sister asked. "Have you packed a nightgown? Clean undies for tomorrow? What will you wear – something new, I hope?"
"For God's sake, can you please shut the fuck up?" Christy pleaded. "I'm not some inexperienced teenager, who has never been out with a guy before! You're just making me more and more nervous the way you are going on."
As soon as the words had left her mouth, she knew she had said it the wrong way. Her sister was just trying to help her; she had always been incredibly helpful and supportive. It was Sissy who introduced her to Ken, who had encouraged her to initially flirt with him on line, and then to take things further. When Christy told her that Ken had asked her out for a date – well an overnight date – she had said "Christy, you would be an idiot to say no!"
"Hey, Sissy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to jump down your throat," she said apologetically. "You know I'm just really nervous about tonight, scared that somehow I'll fuck things up, and scare him away. I know you are only trying to help me, so ... thanks."
"That's ok, Honey," she replied. "I should shut up; let you handle things your own way. Just remember he's been hurt badly in the past, don't come on too strong, so just take things naturally. It will be a wonderful night for you, I know it. Besides, you look beautiful in that dress; what man could resist you?"
She leaned into her, and kissed her gently on the cheek. Her sister was right, she grudgingly admitted to herself that she looked pretty good in that dress – which Sissy had helped her pick out. She never would have picked one cut so low in the front, and the back – fuck, the back! The back was scalloped so low; she had to wear low-cut panties so they didn't show. But when she looked at herself in the mirror, saw how the inserts pushed her breasts up making them fuller and firmer, her new hairstyle, the makeup ... She didn't look like the same woman; more importantly, she didn't feel like the same woman who had been dumped by the last prick of a boyfriend a year ago.
Ken pulled up in front of the house, checked his face, hair and teeth in the mirror. A deep breath, "Oh, here we go".
When Christy opened the door, he felt his knees go weak. She was beautiful, more gorgeous that her photos had shown. She was wearing a stunning red dress, low cut front and back, but still elegant. She looked like a million dollars, as the saying went.
"Um ... Hi there, honey," he stammered. "You look ... you look so ... so lovely." He was able to get out.
"Oh, thank you," Christy replied. "You look pretty good yourself."
.... There is more of this story ...