At her vanity, she experiments with her hair. Up or down, up or down. She eventually decides on a simply clipping two sides up a little, to give it some height. The rest falls down her neck, just above the line of her dress. The clips are two tiny dragon flies, studded with blue jewels. Yes, they are plastic, but they don’t look cheap.
Foundation goes on, followed by blusher. Her eyes will be done next. She chooses her colours; smoky gray, with hints of blue and purple. She tries not to blink or let her eyes water as she outlines them. This close to the mirror, the liner looks like pencil tracing paper, an artist’s sketch rather than marks of a temptress. Mystery only alights her eyes when she starts to apply the colour.
Her lipstick is of course bright red. She traces a liner pencil around her lips, and follows it with the stick itself. As it butts against her upper lip, she imagines the other things she will feel against them tonight: the cool of a bottle head; the rim of a wine glass; lips; tongues; cock. She tries to imagine how she might look to a man staring down at her as she sucks him, and once she’s dabbed tissue to her mouth, opens it in a perfect O to see her reflection. She laughs. It looks daft. Ridiculous. She wonders if arousal takes away how silly sex can look, and decides yes. It will not seem silly when it is someone’s dick on her lower lip, or his hand on her breast. She will not be thinking about how it looks or appears, but how it feels.
Tonight, despite her efforts made now, is all about sensation; the bright and muted sensation of the body.
Next: 5. Shoes
Image found on flickr, by robertotostes, used under the Creative Commons License.