Lucky This Isn't Real

We had a date, of sorts, and who knew what might happen after that?

Sure, this whole thing was meant to be a fake engagement to get Raquel jealous and save me from looking like a complete idiot around her and Kenny, but that didn’t mean that we couldn’t also eventually have a real relationship.

It was a bit like being in the movies, and we had both played parts. I would often see the same actors in different films and notice their chemistry. While I didn’t believe that they were really together for a second, I wondered if they were friends.

Like, did they hang out and go to dinner and stuff while having a job where they would kiss and have fake sex in the context of a real relationship? I knew the on-set and off-set worlds were vastly different.

Gavin was an actor, so I guessed he would be able to compartmentalize similarly. We could very well have our fake engagement that we put on ‘on-set’ and a real dating relationship that we were still working through ‘off-set.’

Strange as it might seem to be actually dating while pretending to be engaged, it would give us some good practice if things ever got that far in our real relationship— or at least a girl could hope, right?

Maybe our fake relationship would end in a real marriage.

Just the thought made me feel warm inside.

But I told myself to reign in the fuzzy feelings.

I didn’t want to be let down.

Yet it was still fun to hope, for once.

I left work feeling almost as happy as I was when I had been going in. Rather than heading home, I went further downtown, fully intending to buy a dress for the engagement party. Something sexy that showed off my assets.

I tried not to think about the actual occasion while looking for the dress. The thought of Kenny and Raquel’s upcoming nuptials made me feel angry all over again, so I blocked that part of it from my mind.

I wondered what Dr. Benoit’s recommended self-help books would have to say about that tactic. I had a feeling they wouldn’t approve, but it was what worked best for me at the moment, so that was how I handled it.

The dress I settled on was a bit daring, but I went with a semi-medieval number. A lovely skirt flowed down to the floor, and very fine lacing at the front mimicked a corset. There was also a deep neckline. The arms went down from its long, slender sleeves and fanned out massively into huge triangles at the cuffs.

I took a sharp intake of breath when I glanced at the price tag, which amounted to two full paychecks at my assistant’s job. I would have to go further into my inheritance, but I didn’t feel too bad, though. Dad had left it for me to do with what I wanted, and I had tried to be responsible, as though frivolity would be an insult to his memory.

He never really went in for fancy materialism. He didn’t hate it, but he just didn’t believe we needed things to be happy.

In a lot of ways, I could see his point. Though the dress felt different. It could have only been my own justification for spending the money, but I felt like I was kind of representing the nature culture in which he had tried to raise me: beautiful, but also ancient and simple. All things that could have been applied to the dress itself.

Besides, buying this dress was in service of helping me rediscover love and romance. Both were things that he had never made light of, holding them in high regard as part of the values he tried to instill in me.

I wasn’t sure where my recent aversion to love had come from– I guessed the incident six months ago had really messed with my psyche– but I felt it melting away as I looked at myself in the mirror.

I had to admit that I looked great. Tasteful and sexy. Gavin would love it, I hoped, and more than likely would want to jump my bones just as much as I wanted to jump his.

I was so turned on that I could barely walk straight by the time I got home. I was incredibly happy as well as excited. Thinking about getting to possibly have sex with Gavin had left my pussy dripping wet.

Putting the bag with my new dress in the wardrobe, I stripped off my work clothes as quickly as possible and flopped down on the bed, opening my legs wide.

When I was relaxed enough, I gently cupped my mound, breathing out as I pushed down, getting used to the pressure. I had lost my virginity at sixteen, but I was still really tight and super-sensitive when I got excited, and I needed gentle handling. Something Kenny would go along with but seemed to resent.