Experience

"Try it on," Tanya insisted while nudging a little black dress. It's perfect for tonight."

My eyes scanned the dress, "There's nothing to it."

"Exactly," she smirked and pressed it into my chest.

My head shook before I took the dress in my hand. "Why not a tank top and some jeans?"

"No! We always wear that when we work," she shook her head and drank champagne from the opened bottle.

"Still failing to see the fault," I said before drinking some myself. I have slightly frozen the champagne from being in the fridge too long.

I removed my red tank top and pulled off my jeans before tossing them onto my couch. We always got ready because she didn't want her son to see me undressed. She was protective of him, but I can't blame her. He was a stunning spitting image of her when she was around his age, and she had a reason to worry if he was anything like her.

I stepped into the black dress and pulled it up over my hips. Tanya and I were nearly the exact sizes, so she always brought over her outfits whenever we went out. My arms slipped through the straps before Tanya eagerly zipped it up and almost my hair. I didn't have much on, and my suspicions were confirmed. I looked at myself in the mirror to see a stranger gazing back in the reflection. The short dress had a deep plunging neckline, exposing most of my cleavage. It was snug and fit my body like a second skin accentuating every curve.

"Yes!" Tanya's arm shot up as she drank more from the bottle, "That is amazing of you!"

"I don't even look like myself," I said.

"That's because you did your makeup and have wavy hair," she answered. I rarely see you. Your hair is always beautiful and long, but you never do anything because it's so long it speaks for itself."

"How drunk are you already," I laughed before taking the bottle.

She studied me for a moment and began looking through her things. I watched curiously while drinking more champagne before turning around with black knee-high boots.

"No," I rejected.

"Yes," she insisted before shoving them into my arms and taking back the bottle.

I used my bar top to slide on both leather boots, "I feel very naked."

"Well, you look good," she beamed.

"No, I need something. A coat or tights even would work," I insisted.

After rifling through her things, she tossed something mesh at me. Upon further examination, it was fishnet tights, which still didn't help.

"I look cheap," I blurted before covering my mouth.

"Bitch," she remarked as she changed into a tight crop top and black leather pants.

"Now I would be comfortable in that outfit with these boots," I stated, "Trade me."

"No," she refused.

I snatched the bottle from her hands and began downing its contents rapidly.

"Okay! Fine!" she caved, "I know you. You'll be too drunk to function."

I smiled while giving her the bottle before we undressed and exchanged clothing.

"You never wear anything feminine," she said while zipping up the dress.

I paused for a moment in thought. My eyes glanced over at my closet; to my dismay, Tanya was right. I had nothing but shirts, boots, jeans, and loungewear. There were no dresses, heels of any kind, and colors other than emerald, red, and black. If my wardrobe spoke for me, it would scream, boring! Boring, as in, no wonder you're still a virgin! I may leave my comfort zone and stop being pansy about everything. What was so wrong with the dress anyway? Just because it felt different, I didn't want to wear it. It challenged me to try something new.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes," I said before drinking the rest of the champagne, "Yes, let's do this."

After being at the club for three hours, Tanya had disappeared with a man she had just met, and I left the loud crowding people to the quiet bar across the street.

"Vodka Cranberry," I ordered.

"You look exhausted," the older female bartender stated.

"I am just waiting on my cab home," I nodded, "Thank you."

As I drank from the contents in the glass, I felt a slight wind chill creep up my spine. I took a deep breath, and the scent of cherry blossom filled the air. My head tilted to the left to find a younger blonde woman who had taken the barstool beside me.

"What can I get you?" asked the bartender.

"A shot of whiskey," she responded.

"Want another?" the bartender shifted her attention towards me.

I responded with a nod before downing the rest of my drink. Once served, the bartender disappeared to the back, leaving us alone.

"I saw you in the cub next door dancing with the blonde," she spoke.

My eyes widened as I looked at her. She wasn't much different from Tanya, maybe five years younger, but they were similar. She had blonde hair that fell right above her shoulders, dark brown eyes, and pale skin. Her tight black tank top exposed her red bra and cleavage beneath. Was a tattoo of a rose vine wrapped up to her elbow on her right wrist, or was it a cherry blossom? I'm a bit too drunk to tell at the moment.

"That was my friend," I clarified, "I'm her wingman, so to speak."

"You seemed like you had fun dancing," she said.

"It's always nice to get out and enjoy yourself every once. I would rather be at home drinking alone at the end of it all," I admitted.

"So why come here when you could have had a drink?" she asked.

My eyes locked onto hers, "I could ask you the same question."

"I told you I saw you over there," she reminded, "I followed you here."

"Why is that?" I questioned.

Her right hand left the bar top and touched base on my left thigh. My eyes followed suit as my right hand ran through my hair.

"Do you even know my name?" I smiled.

"I'm Jessica," she said, leaning closer to me. What's your name?"

"Ivy," I whispered.

"Nice to meet you," she replied before closing the gap between us and pressing her lips onto mine.

She was soft and gentle to the touch. I felt her hand clasp my neck, pulling me closer. Her tongue slid into my mouth and rubbed against mine.

Nothing. I felt absolutely nothing. I pulled back, and our connection broke.

"What? What's wrong?" she hoarsely asked.

What was wrong? I had this beautiful woman kissing me, and I felt nothing—no rush of excitement followed by heated passion. My eyes searched hers for the answers, but there were none. My body reacted by grabbing her waist and pulling her back into me. This time, I'm taking control.

My left hand held her waist as my right cupped the nape of her neck. I pulled her in close and kissed her. My lips pressed roughly into hers as my nails tightened and dug into her skin. Our tongues rubbed over one another aggressively as I felt her arms wrap around my neck. I tightened my grip and pulled her closer to me—still nothing. Before anything else could happen, I heard my phone ding. I pulled back and broke the kiss between us, feeling rattled and confused.

"I'm sorry," I apologized before standing up, "My ride is here."

Before she could react, I went out the door into the eerie cold night and headed to the taxi.