(Edited 7/28/18)
"Tuck, suck, and yank!" Tamara yells at me from outside the dressing room door.
"What the hell does that even mean?" I grumble, trying to yank up the skimpy, tiny dress that Tamara picked out.
Since we're going to a strip club, and it's our last night in Italy, I want to do something I've never done before: dress slutty, but classy.
No, I am not slut shaming.
Women can show off their bodies however they like—hell, join a nudist society if you want! But, I've never dressed in anything that your typical prostitute would, and that's my goal.
I just never knew it was this hard to pull up a damn dress. Sheesh, I knew my thighs were thick but damn, I feel like I wear a size 16 and this is a 00.
I can barely fit my big toe in this dress.
I wear a size nine, but when you're not even five-foot-five, people look at you like you deserve to die. Bitch I'm healthy, and you wish you had an ass as fat as mine.
Women, love your curves.
Look at whose talking.
True. But my advice is good and I love myself most days...
"It means tuck your titties, suck in your stomach, and yank up the damn thing—what are you looking at? Never heard somebody give somebody advice or something, huh?" She instructs me, and then I assume she yells at some innocent person.
"Fucking asshole." She mutters, making me laugh.
"Tamara, I can't wear this. It won't fit." I frown, looking at myself in the mirror. The dress is dark blue, navy, and right now it's not even up my thighs.
"Okay fine. I'll find you something else." I hear footsteps become faint and I pull the dress off, putting my sweatpants and tank top back on.
I sit inside the dressing room, playing IMessage games on my phone—don't judge me, I'm 17 and bored.
Liam sends me a picture of himself in a dressing room.
Shirtless.
In boxers.
Liam The Asshole: So...I was changing, and I thought of you. In a dress. A short dress. Your juicy ass just waiting to be handled...and now I'm stuck with this.
A boner. Oh great. He sends me a picture of him and his erection that is clearly shown in his boxers. Perfect.
J: And your right hand is still your best friend. Tsk, what a shame.
Why must he be so damn attractive? I couldn't take my eyes off of that picture, my mouth watering, until a loud knock on the door snaps me out my indecent thoughts.
"I got this really cute two piece." Tamara's voice is a little muddled behind the door, but I can understand. "And another couple of dresses."
I open the door and she hands them to me. I close it back and I look through them all, the two piece standing out.
Magenta pants that hug really tightly to my thighs, flaring out at my calf with a slit that goes up to my hip on each side.
The top is the same color; there's a deep V going down the middle, so it shows a good amount of cleavage, but not too much. It's cropped, so my bellybutton shows.
I give myself a goofy grin in the mirror before I walk out and I show Tamara the outfit. Her eyes widen and she looks taken aback. "Holy shit."
YOU ARE READING
The Player in Him
Teen Fiction"Why aren't you scared?" I whine and he laughs. "Come on, you wouldn't dare hurt me with that. It's too risky, and I can get out of this easily, babe." I can tell he's smirking and it's sickening. "Oh yeah? Try." I say confidently and in o...
