Dressing For Sex

Thursday May 13th 2004 – 7:45pm – Helen’s House

Helen Watson brushed her long honey blonde hair nervously. She was beginning to wish that she had never agreed to hold this girls’ night in, or pampered pussy evening, or lesbian sex orgy - or whatever you wanted to call it. The girls would be arriving any minute now and the 28 year old was still in her bathrobe, even though she had emerged from the shower over an hour ago.

She brushed at her hair again, which had the effect of calming her a little and steadying the butterflies in her stomach. What was she so nervous about, she wondered? It was just a group of friends coming round. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t got everything ready. She had food warming in the oven, drinks discreetly in the corner, Jessica and Adam were at her mum’s and David had left for an overnight stay in the city that night. With her family absent, Helen had spent a leisurely afternoon tidying the house and arranging candles in the living room in the hope of creating a suitably sensual atmosphere.

Her dilemma now was: What do you wear to have lesbian sex with all of your friends? Helen regarded the huge pile of clothing, that she had retrieved from drawers and wardrobes, and which now lay scattered across her bed, with rising panic. What on Earth should she wear?

If she were seducing a man the choice would be much simpler: She regarded the pile of sexy attire that David had bought her in his more hopeful moments. Yes, any of that would do. But did your friends really want to see you in a topless basque and fishnet stockings? They’d probably wet themselves laughing.

Several of the girls had rung in the week, enquiring as to what she thought they should wear. They had agreed in the end on smart casual – whatever that was. They felt they ought to make some effort. So jeans, leggings and frumpy skirts were out.

What about the more fundamental question: Trousers or skirt? Trousers at least made the statement ‘I’m not here just for the sex’. But that was the problem. To be absolutely honest, they would all be there for the sex – or at least in the hope that the sex might happen. Helen bit her lip. No, trousers were not as inviting as a skirt or a dress. Less accessible, if she was being honest. And a long skirt or dress was not as inviting as a short one, although it had its advantages.

Finally, Helen settled for a pink skirt and top, before heading quickly downstairs. At the foot of the stairs, she paused, ran back up and changed into a short sky blue dress. As an afterthought she kicked off the new shoes that she had bought that morning and put on a different pair. Then she went back downstairs.

For the next few minutes Helen busied herself, putting snack foods on the table, opening bottles, lighting candles and stoking the fire.

Suddenly there was a ring at the door and Helen felt the panic rise in her again. This was it. The girls were starting to arrive.

Cautiously, she made her way into the hallway. Through the window in the front door, she could make out the red hair of Donna Scott, illuminated by the porch light. Helen breathed a sigh of relief. Donna at least always seemed quite down to earth. Then she began to panic again, wondering how she should greet her friend. Normally, she would just give her a hug and a peck on the cheek, but what if Donna took it the wrong way and thought she was coming on to her?

What if she did? Would that be so bad? That was what they were there for after all, wasn’t it?

Helen steeled herself and opened the door. The 33 year old redhead stood before grinning nervously, dressed in a maroon skirt and top and holding bottle.

“Hi Donna,” cried Helen, with false levity, “glad you could c… make it.”

She went to give the redhead a hug. Donna responded slightly stiffly. Helen felt the need to overcompensate with an enthusiastic kiss on her guest’s cheek. Donna turned towards her to do the same and it ended up being a rather enthusiastic kiss on the corner of the other’s mouth. From there they each backed off a couple of inches before landing a better aimed kiss on the centre of each others lips. Then another. Then another. Then, as each became more familiar with the other in a new way, the kisses became longer and mouths became opened. Until finally they locked lips and sank into a long embrace, which felt better and more natural the longer it continued.

Helen felt a thrill as she became aware of the redhead’s fingers running through her hair and roaming up and down her slim back. In return, Helen’s own hands explored the womanly curves of Donna’s stockier frame.

“For goodness sake you two!” came a voice. “Get a room!”

Helen and Donna burst apart. Who was it? Who was out there? Who had seen them?

Emerging from beyond the high hedge that fronted Helen's garden came tall confident Erica (it was she who had called out) and by her side was nervous looking Kelly, unsure of what to make of what she was seeing.

“Oh, er, hi Erica. Hi Kelly,” said Helen, slightly flustered, “come in, come in. Any sign of the others?”

“Ali and Tracy were just pulling up round the corner,” answered Erica. “They should be here in a couple of minutes.”