"Why clothes?"
He opened the car door for her and let her get in. "Consider it a step into womanhood. Your current clothes are really only fit for high school." He came around and got in. As he drove, he said, "You need to express who you are. Accentuate your positives."
"What are my negatives?"
"Just your inexperience."
"How long do I have to be inexperienced?" It was a plaintive question, tainted with the angst of youth.
"I'll help you, don't worry."
"How are clothes going to be a step into womanhood?"
"They will accentuate your progress."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course. How many older women do you see running around in tank tops and hoodies with Justin Bieber on them?"
"But I don't want to be old."
CT laughed. "You have a long time before that happens."
CHAPTER 4
Sammie shook her head. "Are you sure? A skirt?"
Her husband looked at her with those deeply intense eyes that shook her soul. "Yes, several."
"But no one wore skirts in school—"
"You're not in school anymore."
She sighed. Like duh. Why do I miss the obvious? "But these are going to show a lot of leg—"
"That's the point."
"But why?"
He leaned close, his voice low enough to be private in the department store. "Because we're going to accentuate your best features."
She felt confused. "And this helps my maturity, how?"
"By immersing you directly into the experience. You can spend a life flipping through Teen Beat and later on Cosmopolitan and admiring the audacity of the fashion, but until you do it, you're just a spectator."
"I don't know if I can…"
His face took on that serious thinking look. It usually preceded something revelatory from him.
She held her breath, wondering what nugget of experience he was about to impart.
He pressed his lips together and said nothing. Instead, he turned and scanned the racks.
She watched him with youthful curiosity, trying to decipher him based on what clothing he was looking at.
He selected a very short skirt. "Let's work on your confidence."
"Huh?"
He handed her the skirt. "Go put this on." He pointed to the changing rooms. "Then come out and show me."
She bugged out her eyes. "In this?"
He folded his arms and studied her. "Yes, in this. It's clothing. You need to overcome your fear of yourself."
She stood there, mouth cocked open in a mix of pain and confusion.
He frowned. "Go."
She coughed and twirled around. She tried not to stomp into the changing room. As she was shutting the door, she looked at him.
He stood there, waiting, a small smile on his lips and a knowing look in his eyes.
How does he know me so well? She shut the door and began changing. Shorts off and skirt on, she looked in the mirror. I look stupid.
He was wearing a surprised smile when he saw her. Air wound up her bare legs and across her panties. Gone were her normal shorts covering everything.
He said, "Stunning."
She blushed, looking around to see if anyone was looking: the woman at the changing station was looking; a man pushing a stroller was admiring her legs; and a fat woman was scowling at her with hatred. What's your problem, you old hag? She looked back to her husband.
He was nodding. "More of those."
She whispered, "But they're so short."
"Yes? So? They're perfect."
"Any higher and you'd see my panties."
"That's the point."
Now she was really confused. "Huh? But people will perv."
He had that patient look. "Your strong positives are your youth and sexuality. You want to accentuate that as much as possible. The mere hint that someone might see your panties puts you in a position of advantage."
"Advantage? How?"
"Any man seeing you in that would lose all coherent train of thought. That's how much power you can wield."
"Power?"
"Totally. Your first test will be Dave."
"Dave? Why him?"
"It will be instructive. He's a friend and I know him well. When he sees you, he will blink a lot and swallow often. Then you'll have a taste of the power you have."
"I don't know…"
"Trust me." He nodded. "You'll wear that out."
His words calmed her. Will it be like he says? I have power?
~ ~ ~
She wasn't allowed to carry the bags.
He had said, "The man carries the bags; the woman carries her purse."
He preceded her up the walk to the front door of Dave's roomy house. He turned back and winked at her. "We'll test you out inside. You'll see."
She swallowed and went in before him. Fortunately, Dave was nowhere in sight. "Maybe I should go change."
He shut the door and collected the bags. "Into what? Not back into your shorts."
"What's wrong with shorts?"
"Nothing. There's a time for them; just not all the time. Let's get these put away and we'll go visit Dave in his shop."
Her husband's friend had a converted patio where he built computers. She glanced towards the door into the patio. "Are you sure?"
"Positively. You'll see what I mean when you see his face."
I'm really going to let someone see me in this? But the rest of the shopping experience while dressed in the skirt had shown her that she had little to fear. No dean had come running up to her telling her she'd be suspended for wearing something so risqué. She hadn't gotten in trouble for violating any dress code. While she knew there wasn't one in the real life of adulthood, the memory of having to worry about dress code at school lingered.
A limitless sense of dangerous freedom yawned at her, pulling her to the precipice of personal liberty. I can really wear these things? The things I had thought only other girls looked good in?
Dave was standing, hunched over an open computer case on his workbench. He looked back once, then back to his computer. That lasted a half second. He looked back with wide eyes and straightened.
CT said, "We went shopping for clothes."
Dave blinked rapidly, trying to tear his gaze away from her legs. He would raise his eyes to hers, then swallow, but immediately succumbing to whatever allure her legs offered – eyes falling back down to her skirt and skin.
Oh my gosh, CT was right. A thrill went through her at the same time as a flush of blush. He's staring at my legs. No boy has ever stared at my legs before – only the older and tougher women teachers.
Dave dropped his screwdriver from nerveless fingers. "Oh…" He stooped to pick it up and fumbled at it.
CT was standing, arms crossed, a critical look on his face. One hand stroked his chin in thought. "What do you think?"
His friend dropped the screwdriver again. "Um, looks great." His words were fast with nervous embarrassment.
Sammie stood watching him act like a total goof; she wanted to laugh.
Her husband said, "Do you think the skirt is too long?"
Dave coughed as if choking. "Long? Is this a joke?"
"She thought it was creepy that old men might check out her legs."
Sammie coughed in youthful indignation. Hanging her mouth open at her husband, she said, "Gee, thanks."
Dave coughed, too, but a little more as if trying to clear his throat. "Creepy? What, are we supposed to be blind to beauty?"
CT raised an eyebrow at her as if questioning.
She felt like a total ditz. He's looking at my legs again. But the strange sensation of freedom and feminine force found a foothold in her that made her give a small and satisfied smile to her husband.
CHAPTER 5
CT helped her remove tags in their bedroom. "Are you getting what I've been telling you?"
She looked at him with a pained expression. "Yes, I'm not stupid."
> "I didn't say you were. But this is a new experience for you; I want to make sure you grasp the enormity of what's taking place." He had been amused to see his expectations of Dave's reaction fully met. His friend had even been excited, if the growing bulge in his pants wasn't coincidental. That fascinating fact produced in him a pride in his wife.
B.B.'s texted words moved through his mind – that she would tire of his age. Maybe that was so. But in the meantime, he had a beautiful and sexy girl for a wife. I am going to enjoy this to the fullest. It might be my last sexual hoorah before settling into old age and impotence.
Sammie was smiling at him. "It was sort of a thrill."
He focused on her. "You felt the power?"
She shrugged. "I guess I did—"
"Do not guess. Or you will always guess. Analyze your feelings and make the statement of certainty."
She sighed, pursing her lips. "Yes, I definitely felt the power." She burst into a giggle. "I didn't know what to do with it."
"You can endlessly lead a man around on the strings of that power by simple moves and gestures. As if beckoning, but not caring if he follows. A tantalizing touch here, a smoky look there – you can drive a man senseless so that he's putty in your hands."
"We weren't supposed to touch anyone in school—"
"You're not in school anymore."
She said it just a half-heartbeat behind him: "I know, I'm not in school anymore. It's just that it was so beaten into us over and over—"
He said somberly, "And produced a generation of kids who are afraid of heterosexuality. All the talk nowadays is how great homosexuality is. Makes you wonder."
"Wonder what?"
He gave her an eyebrow, wondering if her young mind could even encompass the truth. "That it is a program of genocide."
"Genocide?" The look on her face was humorously horrified.
"Never mind. Think again of your new-found power. There is more you will need to do—"
"Uh… Like what?"
"We need to work on your confidence. You can't portray that power if you're afraid of it."
"How do I go about that? I've never done this before."
He hefted the t-shirts. "These nightshirts? They will be all you wear at night. No panties. Except as you need to during your cycles."
She rolled her eyes. "Thank god for that."
"I'm serious. These will cover more than your skirts, but you need to feel the freedom of your nakedness underneath them."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It will."
~ ~ ~
CT closed another threatening email from B.B. with a frown. In it, the Hollywood big-shot had threatened prison for statutory rape. He had responded with the facts: CT had engaged Sammie sexually fully within the age of consent in Nevada; and they had not crossed state lines until she was a federally legal adult. B.B. couldn't force California law in Nevada, no matter who he bribed.
But, B.B. had made his promise to ruin him and CT knew the big-shot wouldn't stop.
~ ~ ~
The Friday after their shopping trip, CT's cell phone rang with the threat of uncertainty in the face of B.B.'s threats.
What now? "Hello?"
A female voice on the other end sounded as uncertain as he felt. "Cesar Salvatore?"
With a dread of hearing some attorney begin threatening him, he said, "Yes…?"
"Hi, I saw your card at Randall's…you teach piano?"
Relief as sudden as a flash-flood washing away everything in its path left him feeling weak. He chuckled. "Yes."
~ ~ ~
He relaxed that night, leaning against the wall of the hall to the kitchen - a cool glass in hand containing the vodka and orange juice mix of a screwdriver.
Dave leaned against the other wall, neither of them wanting to sit. "Just a matter of time."
CT raised his glass. "Indeed. It's been so long since I advertised that it all felt so backwards to me."
His friend swirled his drink. "I hope you get more."
He nodded. "One student is a start. Word will spread and I'll keep handing out my cards."
Dave nodded. "Word of mouth is powerful."
He took a long gulp and nodded. "Quite." And that's how B.B. ruined me on the West Coast. Can I rebuild it all here in the "Don't tread on me" state?
Sammie intruded on his thoughts and their drinking. "Oh…" She was wearing her night-shirt – an extra-long t-shirt that went down to mid-thigh. He knew she was naked underneath. She tugged surreptitiously at the hem downward, looking at Dave with worried eyes.
CT sighed. He can't see anything. Get over your fear. "Come here."
She came to him with the ease of one who obeys without question.
He slipped an arm around her waist. "We were just talking about the Lopez call and celebrating." He lifted his glass.
"With orange juice?"
"Actually, a screwdriver. A bit of vodka in it."
She grinned sheepishly. "Oh…"
Dave said, "Never had a drink before?"
"No, I have…once. Threw it all up."
CT frowned. "Off of one drink?"
"No, several bottles of beer."
He closed his eyes and shook his head for two seconds. "Beer?"
She shrugged. "It's what they had. It was last New Year's…"
CT sighed. "Try a sip of this."
She accepted the glass and hesitated only a second, searching his eyes for something. She sipped and swallowed. After a second, she said, "I can barely taste anything."
"That's sort of the point—"
"That was pretty good – better than beer."
"How about I make you one?"
Dave said, "I'll get it."
Sammie smiled. "Okay."
CT waited until Dave was in the kitchen. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Well, it's only nine. But, yes, it's hard to sleep without you."
"I wasn't going to be too long." He circled his glass and took the last swallow. "But, I'll have another with you." He straightened and went into the kitchen.
Dave was leaned sideways, pouring orange juice into a tumbler.
"You didn't make that too strong, did you?"
His friend grumped. "I did not. If beer kills her, I'm not going to dump a half a bottle of vodka—"
"All right, relax." He grabbed the vodka bottle and poured a finger for himself. "Gimme that." He snatched the orange juice from an annoyed Dave.
Drinks in hand, they went back into the hall. Dave handed Sammie her glass.
CT's eyebrows rose when she took a typical orange juice gulp. "Er, you might want to sip that rather than gulp it."
She laughed. "Oh, is it that bad?"
"No, but if you're weak to alcohol—"
"Why would you think that? Because I'm a girl?"
"A woman. No, your story of New Year's—"
She made a face. "That was several bottles. At least five. And I don't want to think about it." She made a face at the memory and shook her head. "This tastes a lot better." She took another drink – a sip this time.
Dave squatted down, back against the wall and let out a sigh. He sipped at his drink and his eyes latched onto the hem of Sammie's t-shirt.
CT noticed it and twisted his mouth in thought. "I guess we don't need to stand." He slid down the wall and sat. He motioned to Sammie.
She carefully lowered herself, cautious over her nakedness under the nightshirt. She settled down, folding her legs under her and sitting on her ankles. Her knees were together and the shirt covered everything amply. She took another drink. "This is really pretty good."
Dave raised his glass.
CHAPTER 6
CT drained off his fourth screwdriver. They had made their own little party in the hallway leading into the kitchen. Almost two hours of talking and relaxing had him feeling buzzed.
Sammie was talking with much animation about her New Year's experience.
She was waving her almost finished second drink around. "I couldn't
see the bathroom walls. Monica was holding my head and aiming me into the toilet. I even puked on my own hair."
Dave wiped his face. "Sounds fun."
She coughed dramatically. "Uh, no?" She shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable position sitting on her ankles.
CT smiled as her knees steadily moved farther apart – she was forgetting about her nakedness underneath the shirt.
Dave was looking down at her hemline as it inched up her thighs.
He knew his friend couldn't see anything still, but the darkness between her thighs that led to the hint of things higher up had him captivated. CT suppressed a grin and pulled delicately on her hemline to expose more thigh.
His friend gulped and took a swig, draining his drink. His eyes went wide and locked with CT's.
He smiled and waggled his eyebrows.
Dave laughed.
Sammie said, "It's not funny. Have you ever worn puke in your hair? It's like all gross…"
Dave began to get up. "Maybe another drink for me."
Sammie bounced a little as she sat. She gulped the last of her second drink. "Me too!" She held out her glass like a woman with a credit card and a shopping fever.
CT waited for Dave's exit. He said low to Sammie, "You feeling all right?"
Her eyes were bright, shining, and full of fun. She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, this is fun." Her words had the slur of inebriation to them and she giggled with a hiccup after. "Who woulda thought orange juice could be so fun?"
"It's the vodka in it. Maybe this should be your last one."
"Aww, if you say so." She mocked a dramatic pout, but it broke into an uncontrolled grin. She reached over and rubbed at CT's crotch. "Want me sober for later?"
He laughed. "After all this booze, I don't know. More likely we'll pass out."
Dave came back out with two glasses. His eyes went wide at Sammie's hand on CT's crotch. She had jerked her hand back, but not fast enough before he saw it.
She giggled and accepted the glass.
Dave settled back down and his eyes easily rested on her parted thighs again. He glanced at CT, then back down.
CT raised an eyebrow. Oh, want a peek, huh? He said to Sammie, "So how many of these beer episodes have you had?"
Young Bride, Hotwife Page 2