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“There’s a lot of that going around,” she replied. I was getting a foil highlight, and she was painting on a lighter red.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know if you remember that girl who was in right before you were the last time you were here?”

“Was her name Lisa?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s her,” Shanna confirmed. “Well, she and her boyfriend broke up this week.” Really? Oh boy!

“Really?” I asked, trying to sound sad for her.

“Yeah, turns out that he just liked her ‘look’, like a fetish or something,” Shanna explained. “She wanted a perm and he made a big hairy deal out of it, and she said ‘fuck you’ and dumped him.” She went on to tell me how studly he was; how he was the best fuck Lisa had ever had and that he was wild… loved just about anything.”

“So what was this great look he liked so much?” I laughed, sounding amused. I hope I knew.

“Well, it was pretty much like yours,” Shanna replied. “You ought to go after him. Lisa said he was really a great lover.” Then she got a conspiratorial tone. “He did some really far out stuff… shit you wouldn’t believe.”

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“Like?” I prompted.

“Like… oh hell,” she said, apparently giving up on tip-toeing around the topic. “Like orgasming INSIDE her and then sucking it out afterwards.”

“I don’t know… sounds like fun to me,” I smiled. It did, still.

“Then you should go after him.” The rest of the time was spent telling me where he worked (as a manager at a car dealership) and plotting how to ensnare him. It was so much fun, like being back in junior high. She convinced me to go over to the dealership right away, because she thought he worked the later shift. As an incentive, she made sure I looked as stunning as I could.

So, with fresh hair and makeup, I went to the Lexus dealership where she thought he worked. I walked around the showroom, looking at the cars and brushing off the salesdudes until I saw Max in a glassed in office. I loitered, pretending to look at a car until I saw him look up. His eyes popped when he saw me. I could never get enough of that!

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“Oh, honey!” he said, unhappily. I was a victim again of his premature ejaculation and we both knew it. His cock was shrinking, almost gone. He knelt, thinking of how to placate me.

“Honey, let’s not fight,” he said finally. “I was hoping that tonight we would agree to stop seeing other people.” That was the wrong thing to say.

“Get your clothes on, and get out,” I said, furious. My face turned red, I was so angry. He gave me that ‘what?’ look. I didn’t feel like I owed him an explanation. But when he was dressed, he still looked puzzled. “Steve,” I said, my voice dangerously low, “before we ever had sex we agreed to be monogamous. That means we don’t see other people. Apparently, you did not understand that.” Realization dawned in his eyes, and he didn’t even put up a fuss when he left.

I held off my tears until he was gone, and then I ran to my bed and cried myself to sleep.

The next day, despite my best efforts, I went to work looking like I had cried all night. As a sort of revenge, I wore my new garter hose, but with an even shorter skirt and higher heels. I felt OK until I got to my office and a thought struck me. I dialed a number and my voice quavered as I asked my nurse to arrange an AIDS test. The thought that I had been exposed to HIV because Steve was fooling around made it sink in; he was despicable.

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I began to cry again, holding my face in my hands. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see a blurred Lee Anne. She had closed my door, and she knelt to comfort me. I needed it right then. I explained that Steve and I broke up, and she gave me a nice hug. Then, she spent the whole day protecting me from the guys in the office. It seemed incredible how fast the news that I was “available” spread.

The only one she let through was Curtis. I guess she was matchmaking, but I found myself with a date for the weekend. And, as it turned out, for the next two weeks solid.

Curtis and I hit it off. He confessed that he found my self-confidence sexy, and I actually did feel more self-confident with him. So much so, that after those two weeks I decided to start seeing other guys. This whole relationship was a paradox, but as a result, Curtis became even more attentive.

At three weeks after my makeover, I went back to the salon. I found the very crisp ends of freshly cut hair was sexy, and I didn’t want my high-style sleek look to get unruly. Shanna was happy to see me, and we talked a lot. I mentioned that I had broken up with my boyfriend.

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I suddenly heard him gasp and swell in my mouth. He was cumming, the bastard! I wrapped my lips around his head, breathing through my nose. I stroked his cock with my fist, urging his orgasm to continue as his semen splashed into my mouth. His moans were incredibly sexy, praising me for my cocksucking but I was furious. Bastard!

He was still gasping when I took my mouthful of his cum and moved up to his face. I pressed my fingers into his jaw hinges, forcing his mouth to remain open as I kissed him with an open mouth. He gagged as he realized I was shoving his semen into his mouth, but I didn’t stop. I french kissed him, thrilling that our tongues were sharing his load.

It was highly diluted by saliva when I broke the kiss, even more aroused but still angry. His eyes were mad too, having been forced to eat the cum he hadn’t wanted to. I didn’t have time for that emotion. “Lay on your back on the floor,” I barked. Surprised, he did as he was told without even questioning my reason. I mounted his face, pushing my sodden pussy into his mouth.

“Eat me, lick it,” I moaned, and did just that. His tongue was swirling inside and out of me, but missing my clit completely. I remedied that with my fingers, thrilling to his eager pussyeating. He loved eating my pussy. Loved it. I needed him hard so that he could fuck me and eat more cum. The thoughts welled in me, filled my mind with visions of his tongue doing just what he was eagerly doing now, only with my pussy seeping cum…..

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I came, gasping for breath as I ground hard on his mouth. My pussy seemed to have covered his whole mouth, because he was gasping for air. The suction and action made my orgasm go on, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I rolled off, leaning against the couch as I felt my body shake. It took a few minutes for the orgasm to pass completely. It was terrific!

“Oh god,” I purred. He was leaning on his side, looking at me with a smile. He liked making me orgasm. I didn’t have the heart to tell him my fingers and fantasy made me cum, and he only would get an assist. I saw that he was almost totally erect now. Mmmm!

“Oh, Nancy, I need to fuck you… can I?” he said, his hand dropping to his cock, which he stroked.

“Yeah, fuck me,” I agreed, sitting on the couch, lifting my ankles, and spreading my legs. “Fuck me and eat your cum out.” His reaction surprised me. His cock shrank!

“Oh no, not that!” His eyes were pleading. “Can’t you be happy with what you did?”

I was mad. “What I did? YOU came too early in my mouth!” I lowered my legs, knowing he wasn’t soon going to be between them.

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His face showed shocked realization. “You are serious?” I nodded. “You want me to eat my own cum right out of you?” His face now showed severe distaste. I saw that his cock was wilting too. Hmmmm.

“No way,” he said. “Nuh huh.”

I gave a little sigh. “Your choice,” I said. I went to the door. “I thought you liked the new Me, but I guess not.” I opened the door, at the same time tucking my hair behind my ear. I knew just how cute I looked like that, my eyes huge and innocent.

“Wait a minute,” he said ingratiatingly. “Close the door. Don’t be hasty.” I did close the door, and stood with my arms crossed in defiance. “Listen, honey, you don’t want me to leave, right?”

I softened a little. “No, I don’t,” I said. “But I am tired of having you use me and then fall asleep. So you ARE going to do this, because I deserve it and I want it.” I didn’t add ‘or else’, because my tone clearly implied that.

“C’mon, be reasonable! Only fags eat sperm,” he said. He was now completely limp. Pathetic.

“You be reasonable,” I countered. “You will have just fucked me… what sort of self-respecting ‘fag’ would do that?” I opened the door again. “Are you going to do this or are you going to leave?”

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“I… I will,” he said, sounding like a loser. “But I need help getting up again.” He pointed to his withered prick, as tiny as I had ever seen.

Despite the animosity of the conversation, I had never felt so turned on in my life. It was very arousing to be in command of my sexuality. The truth is that I wanted to suck his cock right then. Its a sexy feeling to know you have the power to arouse a man with just your mouth.

“Sit,” I said, pointing to the couch. He sat, and I did a brief little sexy dance for him. Then, I knelt and put his cock in my mouth. I suckled at him, remembering all the things I had read last night in How Bad Girls Get What They Want; Using Your Naughty Nature about how men would give so much just to get head. I was excited to think I was preparing him to fuck me, and the fact that he would be eating his cum reluctantly added to the excitement.

Slowly Steve’s cock grew in my mouth. I started making loud smacking noises as I sucked him, and he began to quickly inflate, muttering about how sexy I was now. His fingers slid down to my neck, rubbing me in a way that made me moan. “Bob on me, bob…” he moaned, “oh god, your hair is swinging… so sexy….” His hand pushed my head up and down, caressing but urging me too. It felt so good… so erotic.

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When the table was clear but for his glass, I climbed ONTO it, sitting on my bottom facing him. I scootched my bottom forward, getting into the center so that I could lean back onto an elbow. Then, I put my high-heeled feet on the edge of the table, spreading my knees far apart. I touched myself, pulling back my clit hood as he stared in disbelief, then spread my lips apart so that he could see my oozing bright pink hole. Then I moved my hand away, stroking my pubic bone idly. His face was a picture of lust as he looked at my completely bald pussy.

“Is this what you want to put your tongue on?” I asked.

“Mmmm yeah,” he panted. “I want to FUCK you so much Nancy. I am SOOOO turned on!”

“Mmmmm, that would be nice… I’ve been thinking of that too.” It was time to introduce my new desire to him. “But I was thinking of your mouth too…” I touched myself again, this time dipping a finger into my well of juices, then putting my finger into my mouth to suck it off.

“Oh yeah, baby,” he smiled. He stood, and began to unfasten his belt. “I’m gonna eat you like crazy and then I’m gonna fuck you like crazy!”

I smiled seductively. “Actually, your are going to fuck me like crazy, and THEN you are going to eat me like crazy.” I tasted myself again as he tried to understand what I had just said.

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“What do you mean?” he asked finally.

“I mean that you are going to stick your dick in me, and after you cum you are going to eat your cum from me.” I felt myself gush as I said those words for the first time. I was very exciting to give voice to my new fantasy.

“Yeah, right,” he laughed. He had been disrobing, and now dropped his undies. I saw his medium-sized prick was hard as a rock and dripping precum.

I took his wine glass, and dipped a finger in to capture some wine. I inserted the same finger into my pussy, feeling how hot I was inside. Then I pulled the finger out and held it out for him so taste. “MMmmmmm,” he moaned. I pulled my finger to my pussy, his mouth still attached. I felt a jolt of pleasure as his tongue found its way between the folds of my lips, lapping at my pussy hole.

“I’m serious,” I said, pushing his face away. “You are gonna eat my pussy when it is full of cum, or you aren’t going to have any fun tonight.”

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“Wow, you look great,” he marveled as we tasted the dish. I smiled at him, and slowly sucked in a noodle, being just as lewd as I could possibly be. “Jesus!” he blasphemed, his face showing his desire. I strung out dinner, slowly eating and noting that he drank three glasses of wine.

When he slurred his first words, I “accidentally” dropped my knife on the floor next to him. I stood, and bent over at the waist, my butt towards him. Predictably, he looked, then blasphemed again. “Are you shaved?!” he yelped.

“MMmm, yes,” I said, looking through my legs at him. “Is that OK?” As if in punctuation, I reached back and separated my lips to show him my glistening hole, eliciting another blasphemous remark. “I like how smooth and slippery I feel now,” I explained. When he reached out his hand to touch me, I stepped out of range, and retook my seat.

“You are FUCKING sexy!” he exclaimed. His face was getting a little red, and his eyes weren’t exactly tracking. Even so, he was refilling his glass. He was going from man to prey.

“Oh yeah?” I said, caressing my neck, and trailing my fingers down my front. “What do you like best?”

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“Oh, shit, everything. Your face, your hair, your shaved pussy… it makes me want to put my tongue RIGHT THERE.”

“Right here?” I smiled, running my hands inside my babydoll and over my breasts. I licked my lips as I pinched my nipples.

“Fuck!” he said, shifting uncomfortably. I had never purposely teased him before, always acceding to his desires readily.

“Here?” I said, dropping my hand to my belly… so close. He picked up his fourth glass, staring and drinking it down.

“Here, ohgodyeah,” I purred, dropping my hand under the table where he couldn’t see. I touched my pussy, feeling the heat before I made contact. I knew it was a good thing my chairs were wooden and unupholstered, because my pussy was literally dripping wet. I was so excited to tease him and to see him desiring me so much. I brought my hand to my lips, and tasted myself. His eyes were large, taking it all in.

I stood then, and cleared the table. He sat there, watching me walk. I don’t know if he could see the rivulets of juice dripping down my inner thighs, but I could feel them as I walked. I was thrilled to be having this reaction from him, and was looking forward to making my demands.

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Almost as a defense, his right hand dropped to my hip, and then slid knowingly across towards my crotch. I broke the kiss then, saying, “let’s eat first.” I turned away, leaving him even more stunned.

I suppose that until now I had seemed grateful for sex, because I had been. Steve was really the first guy to take a serious interest in me sexually, and I welcomed him at every occasion. I had only said “no” once, when I had had the flu. If we didn’t have sex it was because Steve didn’t feel like it for whatever reason. I guess he was a bit confused, since I was dressed to invite sex, I was looking hot, and yet I said no.

He came into the kitchen, preparing to help make dinner. The water was already hot, so I just turned up the heat to make it boil, and put the sauce in the microwave. Feeling useless, he turned to pouring himself a glass of wine and refilling mine. This was going to be my last glass I decided.

“Damn, you look great,” he said as we waited for the noodles to cook.

“Thanks… like my new haircut?” I asked.

“Hell yeah!” he enthused. “You look so sexy… like a model even.”

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I smiled, leading him further, “like a model?” I closed the gap, letting him put his arms around me.

“Mmmm, yeah,” was his considered response. I let him kiss me, but I again was the one who deepened the kiss. This time, he ran his hand up my back to my neck. He tentatively touched my bristly nape, his fingers tickling me as he explored. Damn it felt good! “Love your hair,” he muttered, his hand moving up to touch beneath the curled under part, exploring the junction of long hair and short. Wow… I felt my nipples harden as my arousal level increased.

I heard the pop-hiss of the spaghetti water overflowing onto the burner, and pulled away, my eyes almost glazed with need and pleasure. As I dished out the noodles, he came behind me and nestled his bulge into my crack. I felt him, so hard, and wanted to be fucked badly. I guess that was the point of him rubbing me there. Even though I wanted him in me, mounting me, fucking me, I needed him to agree to my new desires. It was about more than sex tonight.

I purposely ignored his efforts, and picked up the plates of spaghetti. “Let’s have dinner,” I said. He brought along the bottle and our glasses, draining his before sitting down. Mine was still full, but he refilled his.

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When I got home, I had a little over an hour before he would arrive. I got out some of my frozen homemade spaghetti sauce, and put it in the microwave to thaw. As it did, I flew into the bedroom, stripped, and hopped into the shower. I ran a quick razor over my pussy to make sure stubble wouldn’t show, and resisted the powerful urge to finger myself as I checked how smooth I was. Then I went to my lingerie drawer and took out a somewhat comical see-thru baby-doll with poodle-puff edges. It looked retro-60s, and left little to the imagination, especially since it didn’t fasten in the front. I decided to not put anything else on, but did my hair and face in the “hot” style. I stood back, and looked. If he didn’t pop a rod right away, he was out on his ear ASAP.

I got a pot of water boiling, and then turned it off. When it was time for dinner, we were only five minutes away from ready. I got out a bottle of red wine, and poured myself a glass. Despite my recent self-confidence, I was a bit worried. Then I thought I was being silly, and remembered my mental image of Steve moaning as he ate his own cum. In seconds, my pussy began to throb. It was going to be a great night.

As was his style, Steve was two minutes early. He gave his normal “shave and a haircut, two bits” knock, which made me giggle. How VERY appropriate! I took a deep breath, and opened the door.

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Steve was there, in his normal khakis and sports shirt, holding a bottle of wine. “Shit!” he said. He isn’t quite Shakespearean in his dialog normally, but his stunned expression said more than enough.

“C’mon in,” I smiled. Smiling was a big part of flirting, I had learned.

“Nancy?” he asked, fumbling for words. “My God. You look… unbelievable.” I closed the door behind him, and took the bottle from his hand. I was afraid he was going to drop it.

“I’ve changed,” I said, setting the stage for later conversation.

“When? How? Why?” he asked.

“Yesterday,” I said, coming to him and taking his face in my hands. “At the salon,” I continued, tilting my head ‘just so’. “And, because,” I finished. I brought my lips to his, feeling the pleasure of the kiss spread through my body. I liked kissing, and decided right then to do more of it in the future. I parted my lips, and pushed my tongue into his mouth, knowing that it would surprise him for me to initiate a hotter kiss. It felt electric to have him struggle–and fail–to take control. I was kissing HIM, not the other way around.

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I couldn’t NOT touch myself any longer, and almost immediately, I came. A long, shuddering, intense, immensely satisfying cum. I felt like my entire stomach was convulsing, but I was also aware of how my nipples ached from suddenly getting even harder. My finger dropped from my clit to my hole, and I felt myself spasming there, clenching and releasing. I thought about what Lisa had said, how she had expelled Max’s semen as she came. The sudden mind-picture of Steve gagging as I filled his mouth with his own cream prolonged my orgasm by who knows how long.

When I was done cumming, I felt like having another orgasm right away. This had been a day of epiphanies, and I was still excited. But I was also tired, so I stumbled to my bed. I normally sleep in a t-shirt nighty, but I flopped into bed completely naked. I changed “naked” in my mind to “nude”, and from there to “bald”. My pussy was bald, I remembered. I laid under the sheet then, and slowly built my arousal back. I had been on a plateau, and when I came again, my fingers sloppy with my own juice and wetly caressing my entire vagina, my back actually arched in climax. “Ohmygod that felt good,” I thought as I finally drifted off to sleep.

The next day was another head trip. It started when I woke up naked, still horny. As I showered, I found my new bald status almost forced me to masturbate (so I gave in and came yet again). My new clothes shook me up, as I was unused to wearing the sexy clothes I bought. At the cosmetic clerk’s urging, I had bought some mesh panties… about like wearing the strings of a tennis racket. I also bought some crotch-high stockings, like garter hose but without the straps. When I walked out the door, I still felt different.

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I had expected the shock of my makeover to have subsided overnight, but I still was aware of people looking at me. Guys would look at me out of the corners of their eyes as they walked past my door. It was thrilling to think that I might be making all these guys horny, that they might be going home tonight thinking about me erotically.

I tried to use some of the things I read in the books. Curtis, a good looking office superstar stopped by my office–for the first time ever. He was my first real guinea pig, and it felt weird to play him like a trained seal. I kept myself conservative, but when he asked if I was going to the cafeteria, I acted like I was thinking, running my fingers across my neck. He quickly revised his question, blurting that he had something he wanted to discuss with me and was I free for lunch. Heck a free lunch was a free lunch, so I said sure.

Then I made sure I enjoyed lunch. We didn’t discuss much about business, but I didn’t expect to either. Lunch was all about sending signals, and for once I was the one with the upper hand. As we were preparing to get up from the table, I secretly hitched my skirt up before I stood, guaranteeing him a peek at my garter tops. He got super flustered, turned red, and–sure enough–got erect. Interesting.

For me, the big event of the day was my evening with Steve. He called in the afternoon and basically invited himself to dinner. That was fine, because I wanted him in my “lair”.

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I stopped midstep. “Why am I delaying this?” I wondered. “So I will forget?” My old self had postponed self-improvement for years. Not so the new Me. “I’ll do it now,” I decided, “and completely. Good bye old Me.”

I rummaged around the bathroom, searching for the things I would need. I got out my anti-bacterial soap, a few new razors, some anti-septic aloe cream, a pair of scissors, and my tweezers. I used the scissors to cut my public hair as short as possible, feeling my excitement rise. I was careful, but even so I was soon looking at a very-visible pussy in the mirror, not able to hide in the stubble that was left.

I took a washcloth, and soaked it in the sink in warm water. Then, I covered my pussy with it, hoping the heat would soften the bristles and make shaving easier. As I waited, I picked up the tweezers. “I’ll do my left breast, then shave,” I told myself.

I found one of the stray hairs, and gripped it in the tweezers. Steeling myself, I quickly pulled it out. Fire and Damnation! It hurt like hell! Before I could have doubts as to the sense of it, I pulled out another. I found I was puffing like a woman in labor… my areolae stung! But I kept going until all the hairs were gone, then I rubbed on a little of the anti-septic lotion. You know what? It felt good! My nipple began to stiffen.

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The next thing I did was to shave my pussy clean. I used the anti-bacterial soap as a lubricant; I didn’t want an infection in a cut to cause a bump. I wanted slippery-smooth loins. I took my time, enjoying the feel of the blade, the sudden cold air as my naked skin was exposed, and the heady rush that I was doing something so very sexual. I imagined the look on Steve’s face as I showed him my new bald pussy, which led me to the look on his face as my bald pussy was dripping cum into his mouth… I fought the urge to put down the razor and finger myself. This new Me was all about self-control.

Being aroused did actually help. My pussy lips extended, which I used to advantage. I gripped the left and pulled it to the right across my opening, then shaved the taut skin smooth. I was surprisingly slippery, I guess due to the increasingly wet state of my pussy. The hardest part was shaving the part between my ass and my pussy, the perineum or “taint”–”‘taint pussy and ‘taint asshole”. It was inaccessible, and I was tremendously aroused and NEEDED to cum. Hard.

I might have hurried a bit, wanting to be done so that I could cum. As I was rinsing the last razor blade (I used three to make sure they were sharp), I saw the tweezers. “Oh no,” I moaned, but I knew I was going to do that task before masturbating. This time it was a lot easier, because my hard nipples seemed to deaden the hair follicles in my areola. Besides, I was thinking ahead.

Finally, I was ready. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, where I could see myself. I leaned back and spread my legs, shocked at how visible my hole was. I had porn-star lips, I saw, and I was oozing juice. “Steve will love running his tongue inside this,” I thought, giving myself another thrill. My clit was hard, visible beyond the hood. My nipples were now a grayish color, but hard as erasers, and bigger than that. The new face and hair seemed elegant and exceedingly sexy. THIS was a the self-image I wanted: my face flushed, exuding sexuality, my nipples hard and begging to be sucked, my pussy flowing and dripping down onto my ass crack.

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“I don’t feel up to it,” I said. I planned on trying to replicate my new ‘do now that I was home and to read the books I had bought.

“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed. I didn’t often refuse a chance to ‘hook up.’ “Tomorrow maybe?”

“Maybe….”

We rung off, and I spent the evening as planned. I found it took a few tries to get the glossy smooth look I wanted. I also tried on the makeup I had bought, perfecting the two styles I had been taught.

Then I settled into bed and began to read. Practical Flirting was as good as the review said, dividing the topic into categories. Work, fun, and romance were all covered, along with tips on how flirt effectively. My favorite chapter was on how to take advantage of the “good will” generated by flirting. It was outrageously predatory. I loved it! I read the parts I needed straight away (Office and Romance) and skimmed the rest.

The other book, How Bad Girls Get What They Want; Using Your Naughty Nature, was very interesting. It had a lot of good stuff on techniques like subtle blackmail and taking advantage of how men think with their dicks, but I read in detail the section on self-confidence. The first step, it said, was a honest self-appraisal. Then, you can work your strengths while rectifying your weaknesses. Per its instructions, I got naked and stood in front of my mirror with full lighting.

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Using the technique of pretending to use someone else’s eyes, I was surprised at what I saw. I knew my eyes were pretty, but they were really outstanding. Part of it was the new haircut and makeup, but they were honestly good. Over the years, my eyes had seemed to attain some sort of confident edge that actually now seemed sexy. My body wasn’t bad; I had a bit of a belly, true, and my hips were the victim of my office-oriented lifestyle, but I think my abdomen was maybe the best in the office. I resolved to work on that belly, so that it wouldn’t get worse at least. I didn’t have any butt problem a Stairmaster couldn’t solve.

I also liked my breasts. They were a nice size, not too saggy and they didn’t have stretch marks at all. I saw my nipples were still a nice pink color, and I knew they hardened nicely. Likewise, my legs were decent. I would maybe do more walking, and wearing heels would make them seem nicer.

All in all, I had more strengths than I thought. My biggest flaw seemed to have been my lack of caring how I looked. I changed that today, and I smiled as I remembered the reaction I had gotten. “No more dowdy Nancy,” I declared.

Standing in front of the mirror naked, I noticed for the first time how furry my pussy had gotten. Like the hair on my head, it had suffered from neglect. I also saw to my chagrin that there were stray hairs around my areola. Eyyeeeewww! “I’ll do something about that in the morning,” I thought, then I headed back to bed.

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The next two hours were revelations as several guys came in to my office on one pretext or another. I had no misunderstanding about what they were doing… they were being men, and were reacting like men. They were like moths to a flame. All the women in the office came in to tell me how much better I looked. One woman, who was my former equal in mousiness, actually asked to touch my neckline. The feeling of her hand there was electric, and I couldn’t wait for my boyfriend to kiss me there. Or could I?

My first boss had a funny saying: “I came in late so I’m leaving early to make up for it.” It was hard to work with all the traffic coming in and out, so I decided to leave early. I didn’t even take my briefcase. In my new sexy state, I didn’t much feel like working.

On the way home, I decided to stop in at the Barnes & Noble to get a book that had been positively reviewed in Redbook this month. It was called Practical Flirting, and dealt with how to both build flirting skills and use them to advantage. As I was browsing, an acned boy of maybe 17 worked his way from across the store to ask if I need help. I thanked the clerk and declined his offer of help. I noticed that he hovered in view, and decided to test my new outfit. I knelt on one knee to reach the bottom shelf, knowing my short skirt would ride up onto my thigh. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him staring in that cute way horny young guys have. I slowly stroked my thigh, as if it were an idle movement, watching his eyes popping. What fun!

I found the book, and kept looking a bit longer. I pulled out How Bad Girls Get What They Want; Using Your Naughty Nature, thinking it would be useful as well. Then I went to the checkout line, wanting to get home before traffic got impossible. The boy clerk not-so-subtly followed me to the cash register, where I was fourth in line. When I got to be second, he suddenly remembered how to log on and opened the register, announcing “I can help the next in line.”

Renewed gallery in our creampie blog for today:

As he rang me up, he commented, “If you need some help flirting, you just let me know.” I felt very flattered.

“I’ll remember that,” I promised, taking my bag and strutting out.

When I got home, I again stared in the mirror. I could get narcissistic, I warned myself. I gave myself a fashion show with my new clothes, and pulled out some old outfits, thinking of how I could use them. I felt totally feminine… what a difference.

An hour later, the phone rang. It was Steve.

“I tried you at your office, and they said you had left,” he said. “Everything OK?”

“To be honest, I have a bit of a headache,” I lied.

“Oh… I was going to see if you wanted to grab a bite to eat and hook up.” ‘Hook up’ was his term for ‘have sex’.

Eight part of story ready in a few days

Filed by Creampies at 12:33 am under Creampie Stories
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