TwitterShort Challenge 10

 

                The electric toothbrush buzzed happily in my hand. 

                And rinse.

                And spit.

                There was no way I was going to look anything other than perfect when he woke up.

                My fingers tucked a few rogue strands of brown behind my ear. I leaned into the oversized mirror and gave my lips the pucker and pout. The lipstick swept perfect lines of poppy onto my lips. One final smack together and I was ready. Not that there was far to go. He was currently sleeping two rooms down the hall.

                I’d been nervous all night. Sitting at the bar by myself. I was afraid I’d end up going home alone again. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, just started to play when he sat down next to me and nodded at the remains of my watered down gin and tonic. It should have been his omen.

                “You need a refill?” His voice was as smooth as a slide rule. He was devilishly handsome. Slick styled jet black hair with one renegade curl falling on his forehead like a metal Slinky. Even darker inky eyes and hard jawline completed his flawless face. He could have been a superhero. He was stunningly perfect.

                “Sure.” I followed up with an innocent smile.

                It was only a matter of a half hour before I’d convinced him to come back to my place. Once safely tucked away at home, I turned on the charm.  I purposely batted giant doe eyes at him. I touched my neck. I put the back of my hand on my mouth when I laughed at his jokes. I used nearly every trick my Southern Belle of a mother had taught me. I invited him into my studio where I made extra cash as a photographer. The plush velvet of the couch was exactly where I wanted him.

                When his eyes started to get heavy into his second glass of Shiraz, I knew that tonight would be perfect. He was oh-so-beautiful and my camera had been lonely as of late. Fifteen minutes. He was out like a light.

                I grabbed my war sack and went to work.

                I stripped him completely bare. I wasn’t wrong when I counted on his physique matching his smile. It was impressive.

                He’d folded himself in two like a stapler when my spiked cocktail took hold.  In order to get him properly positioned, I grabbed my rope to slip around his chest and under his arms. I set him up to lean on the arm of the couch. I looked him over and smiled. He reminded me of a discarded one-legged teddy bear propped in the corner of the couch. Completely adorable.

                I grabbed the flask of oil and started to rub down his olive skin. Just enough to make his skin glow for the camera. I could feel the tension building in my thighs as I looked over my handiwork.

                The final touch was the leather binds for his ankles and wrists to keep him in place while my camera drank in his glory. 

                The scene was set. I was flush and more turned on than I had been in years. He was worth waiting for.

                I scampered to the bathroom down the hall where I stripped naked and reapplied my makeup.

                Everything was perfect.

                I went back to my studio. It would be another minute or so before he woke up. I’d told myself that I wouldn’t take any pictures until he came to, but I couldn’t help myself. Just a few snaps.

                The flash must have nudged him awake. He started to stir.

                I waited with my camera to catch that moment of awareness they all experience when they realize they went home with the wrong girl.