Pill One

It was the following Friday. She had swallowed the pill. She didn't detect any changes, but then, she didn't expect to. Steven had called her at 4:00 telling her take the pill at 7:00 and to make baby sitting arrangements. Fortunately, her parents stepped in to take her angel for a sleepover. Steven arrived shortly after 7:00, beer on his breath. That was definitely not a good sign. One of them without caution was plenty, and by default, that role should be strictly hers. She could only guess that he was as nervous about this as she was. In any case, he wasn't drunk. And the beer breath was... kinda sexy.

"Tell me you love me," Steven said.

"I do."

Steven wasn't satisfied. "No, I want to hear you say the words."

"I love you."

He smiled at that. "I'm going to go to the bedroom and pick out what I want you to wear tonight."

"Take your time. I don't think it's kicked in yet."

"You did take the pill, right?"

"Of course!"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

What was he going to pick out! She laid on the living room couch. It wasn't long before she realized her hand had sneaked its way between her legs. Not enough to get anything started, but she knew she was turned on. What had he dreamed up?

He came back quite a bit later, very excitedly. "It took me a while to dig through all your shoes. Okay, please stand by the glass doors." She did. "Okay, now open the curtains... , good. Now, turn around and look out the door." She did. It was dark outside, but she could just make out Steven's reflection in the glass, as well as the lamp shades at each end of the couch behind him. She could still make out the lights of the house behind theirs through the reflection. The Conners might be home, or they might not. They seemed to leave their lights on all the time. She flushed a little, guessing what she was about to do.

"Has the pill... started yet? Are you turned on?"

"Yes, surprisingly, as you haven't done anything to help. You haven't even given me a kiss."

"I'll make that up to you. Take off your sweat shirt."

She guessed correctly. Undressing in front of whoever is out there. Did she have a choice here? Maybe she did. Still, she took off her top. The odds were favorable that no one was looking, though she would be more at ease during spring or summer when leaves had sprouted on the trees behind the house. She started to turn towards Steven.

"No, stand there. Just toss your sweat shirt on the floor. That's a hideous bra. I wish I could get you to destroy all the plain ones. Anyway, take it off."

She reached behind her. Snap. Snap. And Snap. It used to only take two to hold her boobs in place. She pulled it over her arms, and dropped it on the floor.

"That's great. I can only see the back of you, and you look awesome. Okay, now the sweat pants." And her panties soon followed. He came closer and placed her spaghetti strapped high heeled shoes, with the silver sequins, on the floor beside her.

"Okay, step into those." She did. "Okay, very nice. I love how heels make your legs look. Now, spread your legs about a foot apart. A little bit more. Lean forward just a bit. There." She heard the clicking of his Nikon SLR. Digital all the way. She had known when he bought it that he would be using it to photograph her. But it was better than dropping film at the drug store!

"Are you wet?"

"Yes!"

"Place your hands high on the door." She did, and he took pictures of her from several angles before retreating to the area behind her.

"I can see your cunt lips perfectly. They look wet. Turn around."

She did, to a series of fill flashes and clicks.

"You are beautiful."

"Thank you. It must be the shoes."

Steven laughed. "They do like very nice... I'll admit. But it's the rest of you I'm interested in. Now put these on." He placed her clothes on the coffee table.

"Any particular order?"

"Yes, the tank top first."

She pulled it on, nestling her breasts inside, barely. Clearly, he hadn't "forgotten" the bra. It was an intentional "oversight." And just as clearly, he had chosen a shirt that fit her before she was pregnant. It had been slightly big, and now it was noticeably small.

"I'm amazed you got your stomach back in shape. You were so big! And now you're as sexy as ever."

Sexier, to hear Carolyn say it. But yes, she was proud of the work she had put into it, and she was glad she could still wear a midriff and get away with it.

"Those nipples are killing me." He took a few pictures. While her breasts had settled in to the current size, she hadn't grown accustomed to her nipples. After nursing, they seemed to maintain a puffier shape, breaking the natural slope of her breasts. She wondered if their darker tint would show through the yellow fabric. And they seemed to harden at the slightest provocation.

"Now the skirt." She put it on. It was a black leather skirt she had bought mostly as a tease intended for the bedroom. It was open sided, showing her hips, with laces connecting the pieces. It was advertised as a micro-mini, and it wasn't false advertising. It covered her buns, at least. It did, in any case, complement nicely the golden yellow of her top.

"Okay, smile for a few pics." She gave him more than that, with some cheesy cupcake poses she and her friends used to make fun of back in school.

They went to dinner at Le Craze, a funky, mixed grill restaurant in the artsy community, thankfully on the opposite side of town. Charlotte was a large city, but she had a lot of friends, and she always seemed to bump into one of them when eating out or shopping. It was late enough to be past the family dining crowd, if families actually ate there. Her outfit didn't stand out as much as it would at, say, Ryan's Steakhouse, but she was still conspicuous in a place where everyone came to stand out. She got her share of lustful stares, even without all the piercings and tattoos that otherwise seemed to be the fashion with clientele.

The lack of any private booths kept a degree of attention on her throughout the meal, that was for sure. The difference, she realized, was that she was the only one dressed provocatively, whereas almost everyone else was dressed, amusingly enough, to not conform.

There were better tables available, but Steven seemed quite pleased with the one near the middle that the hostess had led them to. There wasn't a man or woman within eyeshot, including the kitchen help, she noticed, who hadn't give her the once over. Or twice over... quite a compliment, really, considering the younger girls there. And Steven noticed too. He had a gloating, maybe boastful, look in his eye, which was not, she realized, the most endearing.

"Hayley," he said in a soft voice, "your breasts look wonderful in that top."

What to say to that? "Thank you."

"Do you know that your nipples show through the fabric?"

"Yes. I noticed. They are darker now than they used to be."

"I didn't think you would wear it out of the house."

"It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

He didn't answer, but his continued to dart left and right, observing. Admiring? She hoped so. It was a show for him, after all.

Aside from the indiscrete nature of her top, a further distraction was that there were no tablecloths, and the tables were glass. She had to carefully mind her legs... Or did she? Hmmm. Should she flash him? She was definitely turned on.

She slipped her foot out of her shoe, and rubbed the outside of Steven's leg with it. If he paid attention, he would see that she had to stretch her leg quite a bit... Yes. There. He had to move his placemat to the side slightly to see, but now he was looking right at her snatch, as he ought.

"Okay, while you're sitting there, so openly, I want a taste of you."

Whoa! What did he mean by that? Was he going to lick her from under the table? "Umm, what do you mean?"

"Use your finger."

"Here? Right now?"

"Yes."

She was dieing inside, even as she smiled and held up her index finger. "Will this one do?"

"Yes, that would be perfect."

It was rather simple really. She could see the challenge in his eyes. Maybe he thought it was a test of some sort. She locked her eyes with his and moved her finger to her cunt, keeping her hand in a fist with her finger outstretched the entire way. Ahh, the drama. She loved hooking a man's attention, even in this environment.

Her skirt was... no obstacle. She spread her legs even farther apart for effect, and smiled at him as her finger rubbed her clit several times before dipping just below. He surprised her by keeping eye contact. She thought for sure that he would look towards her cunt. Her finger emerged amazingly wet and sticky. She held it so he could see the wetness, then held it out to him across the table.

He sucked her finger rather quickly, as if he didn't want to be watched. Perhaps he was more uncomfortable than she was. She wasn't daring enough to look around, but she felt like all eyes were on them. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the attention. Although she felt like she had stepped from a portal from domesticated housewife to, well, something else, she was certain this was new to him too.

"Mmmm. Nice. Bill Clinton was right about something after all, never mind the cigar." He was making fun, but his face still held a look of amazement at what she had just done in the middle of a room full of people. It quickly faded into a measure of resolve. Desire? Control. Before she could come to terms with his change in demeanor, he spoke again.

"Okay." He paused, nodding, at her, perhaps, or some thought. "Okay, then. Spread your legs again. I want to see this time." She did, and he didn't look at her covertly, if was even possible in the middle of a dining area, but stared through the table top at her sex.

Hayley felt like she should be blushing, but she wasn't. What was going on here? Aside from her own behavior, she considered the effect the pill was having on Steven. This was so different from the man she married. There was no idle chit chat. There was nothing considerate in his manner, especially at the moment. And so much for his shyness.