Cassandra Chapter 1

"Admit it; you got LAID this weekend, didn't you?"

I blushed, looked at the floor and smiled sheepishly.

"I KNEW it! Who IS she? Where did you meet her? TELL US!"

I told them about meeting Melissa in college, how we parted too soon, and that I hadn't seen her in all that time until Friday night. I graphically described our "zipless fuck" in the crowded dance club, leaving out the details of which club it was and how we were attired. Their jaws dropped and their eyes bugged out as I related the story. "My GAWD," Beth intoned. "I thought that only happened in the movies." "You STUD you," Gwen gushed in mock disbelief. "And to think I was worried you were gay or something."

Melissa called me every night that week. We talked dirty for hours, as new lovers do - or, at least, as I have heard they do. I was amazed at how easily I fell into the role of the sexy slut who has just been 'conquered', considering I had no previous experience. But then, I have my soft, breathy, sexy voice to work with, a voice that has been described as anything but masculine. I was also aided by Melissa's own somewhat-imperfect recollection of that night. She had a napkin, on which had been hastily scribbled:

Cassandra 555-2739 CALL ME!

She also had a hazy vision of a latex-clad, blue-eyed, blonde bombshell and an apparently-unencumbered memory of a magnificent, mind-blowing fuck that had launched her into orbit. She invited me to an intimate dinner for two at her place on Saturday night. She promised candlelight, classical guitar, lobster, champagne, and a reprise of the previous weekend. "Wear something glamorous," she purred. "And sexy."

I pulled out all the stops. I wore a floor-length, black crepe evening gown with spaghetti straps, gathered bodice, and long, long front slit. My slim, stocking-clad legs were revealed in all their glory as I crossed one leg delicately over the other.