You cycle over to Randall's and find him still getting ready.

After dinner, a shower, and getting yourself all scrubbed up, you grabbed the DVD box and made a quick exit out the door before your mother could ask anymore questions. Cycling quickly over to Randall's to get this stupid ball over with. Praying as you went that this 'dance' went a lot smoother than the last. Being dumped by Allison springing immediately to mind.

Allison... It was funny, it had only been two weeks since she'd dumped you, yet you found yourself barely thinking of her anymore at all. Perhaps it wasn't quite the epic romance you'd always thought it to be. She was your very first girlfriend after all so you hadn't really known anything else, and now, in a way, you had two other girls to replace her in Randall and Gretchen. Though neither of them was your 'girlfriend' per say, they both certainly kept you on your toes and stopped you from dwelling on things.

Arriving at Randall some twenty minutes or so later, you knocked on the front door and heard him call out not too long after. "Just a second!" he shouted, sounding slightly flustered.

Opening the door then, clad only in fluffy white towel and nothing else, you were ever so slightly taken aback. "Hey, dude. Sorry I'm running a little late," he said. His skin glistening and his heaving bosom trying its very best to escape the terrycloth material. "Mrs. Walsh wouldn't stop yakking at that God damn meeting. Only just got out the shower."

"No worries," you replied, rather enjoying the view. "Though I guess it serves you right for leaving me today with Coach Mullins for detention."

Randall however wasn't quite so sure. "Oh, believe me, I had it way worse. How the hell I ever got talked into this shit I'll never know." Beckoning you in then (having the DVD stashed beneath your coat), he led you into the living room and told you to wait a min while he got ready.

"A min?" you laughed. "Uh, Randall... you're a chick now. Nothing takes a min when you're female. Especially not getting ready to go out!" Waiting on Allison for hours on end having taught you that much.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, smart ass," he scoffed, being unable to dispute this. "If you had half the crap I had to do these days you'd need like three hours too. Hair, makeup... these things take time."

"Well what are you waiting for then?" you told him, looking at your watch. "This thing starts at eight."

Though admittedly you weren't really all that bothered about turning up late (hoping you might get out of some work), Randall it seems was, and he hurried quickly up the stairs. Presumably not wanting Mrs. Walsh and the rest of the Booster club giving him anymore crap than they already had. You meanwhile waited a few minutes before calling up after him. "Uh...say Randall. You haven't happen to notice my Chewbacca key chain lying around anywhere have you? I think I must have dropped one of the last times I was here." This of course being total bullshit. It being safely tucked away in your pocket. But you needed an excuse to go up into the attic to dump the DVD.

As expected, Randall's response was, "Nope. Can't say I have." To which you replied, "Might have dropped it in the attic then when I was putting away those boxes. You mind if I go have a look?"

"Knock yourself out."

And so you did, heading up the stairs and clambering up into the attic. Quickly locating the boxes that you had shifted up here the week before and stashing the DVD case inside. Feeling relieved to have finally gotten rid of that burden.Though at the same time also a little guilty... He'll find it eventually I'm sure, you told yourself. Or I can always pretend to discover it sometime later. Not that you really wanted him seeing this big, muscular dude plowing Miss. Card. Still feeling a little insignificant in comparison. For now though, it was out of sight out of mind, and wiping your hands of it you climbed back out of the attic and heard Randall call out, "You find it?"

"Yeah. Was up there right enough," you lied, gripping the key chain tightly in your pocket .

"Cool," he shouted back. The sound of a hairdryer now drowning out his voice somewhat. "You couldn't do me a favor then could you...?"

"Uh... sure."

"Grab my handbag from downstairs? I think I left it in the kitchen and the eyeshadow I was gonna use is in there."

While it was kind of funny for Randall to be so concerned with makeup and his appearance (having barely been at all prior to the transplant), you were positive that you would appreciate the results and quickly descended the stairs to locate said handbag.

Grabbing it off the kitchen counter, you headed back upstairs again to find Randall sans towel and instead dressed in nothing but his underwear (a matching lacy black set), pinning his now dry hair upward in a rather elegant style with various little clasps and pins. As always, the sight made you stop dead in your tracks as you marveled at his phenomenal lingerie figure. Cutting yourself off mid sentence as you went to pass him the bag. "Here you..."

"Cheers, dude," Randall replied. "Just set it down on the vanity." Noticing then your enraptured stare. Your eyes running up and down the full length of his body. Pausing when you reached his bra clad chest. "Yeah, these double H's fit a little better," he told you with a smile. Finishing up with his hair and giving each silky clad mound a little lift. "Still not sure they're exactly the right size, but the straps don't pinch quite so much as they used to which is a plus."

"Yeah, I'll bet..." you nodded. Still amazed after all this time over just how damn big they were.

Changing the subject then and pointing towards the bed, he said, "Oh yeah, I got a bow tie for you to wear by the way. It's over there." Indicating towards a small gray box.

"A bow tie? Really?" you practically laughed. "You've got to be kidding me..."

"All the students have to wear them," he shrugged, grabbing the handbag from out your hand and sitting himself down in front of the mirror. "To keep things classy I guess."

You didn't really like the idea of this one bit. Certain that you'd look like a complete tool and grumbling to yourself, Terrific. Reluctantly padding over towards the thing and lifting it out its box. "Well you're gonna have to help me tie it then."

Randall, who was now in the process of putting on eyeliner (his face reflecting back at you in the mirror), could only guffaw. "Me? Dude, just because I can do all this makeup shit now and stuff doesn't mean I know how to tie a bow tie. I'm a woman remember, not some 1920's butler!" Adding then with a chuckle, "Maybe you can ask Coach to help..."

You honestly couldn't imagine anything worse, and so silently resolved to figure it out yourself. Assuming that it couldn't be too hard. Looking then over your friend's shoulder at the mirror to see what you were doing, while he continued to apply various bits of makeup as if he'd been doing it all his life. His beautiful visage going from naturally stunning to drop dead gorgeous in a matter of minutes. The act of putting on lipstick almost appearing sexual as he painted it across his plump, kissable lips.

As memorized as you were watching this display, you did finally work out how to get the thing tied after a few failed attempts. Feeling rather proud of yourself as Randall then got up and proceeded to finish getting dressed. Only having around fifteen minutes now until you were supposed to be at the function room where the ball was taking place. Rather than fetch his dress though, Randall instead headed towards his dresser and pulled something out of one of the underwear drawers. Surprising you as he then fastened a black garter belt around his waist, before sitting down on the bed and and slipping his foot into a stocking. Rolling the black nylon material up his gloriously smooth leg in a quick and concise fashion. This action causing the semi in your pants to start twitching dramatically. There being something just so erotic about watching a beautiful woman put on stockings.

Spotting you again staring, Randall asked "What?" as he fastened it to the garter belt. His ginormous breasts threatening to spill out of the strapless bra cups as he did. "It's cold out and I need something to wear underneath the dress." Sounding somewhat defensive as he repeated the action with the other stocking. As if you were judging him in some way, which you of course weren't. You were far too enraptured by the contrast of the lacy top, his creamy thigh, and those slinky little panties. Randall now looking a lot like a pin-up come to life. Just as he had done the last time you'd seen him wearing stockings.

"Anyway, stop gawping and grab me my dress will you?" he then ordered as he fiddled a little with the straps and gave himself an appraising look in in the mirror. "It's the green off the shoulder one." Not that you really knew the difference.

Tearing your eyes away with some difficulty and giving your crotch a little rub, you headed over towards his closet and began perusing through his rather extensive collection of dresses. This one fortunately not being too hard to find. This particular number just screaming 'fancy, formal occasion' with its luxurious dark green material and long flowing hemline. It being way different than anything you seen Miss. Card's body dressed in so far (with the possible exception of that ridiculously hot swimsuit).

"That's the one," he told you as you held it out, just to be sure. Asking then, "What do you think? I know its a little much, but this ball is supposed to be a king of glamorous affair. ...According to Mrs. Walsh anyways."

"No, I think it looks great!" you enthusiastically responded. Picturing his epic curves squeezed into its confines. Needing to reel yourself back a little though, just for appearance sake. "For a... you know, for a dress that is."

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