She sat on her bed for hours, waiting. Her hands were cold with sweat, she wiped them on her dark nylons but all they seemed to do was slick down her legs. Her face was choked with make-up she copied off a 1986 issue of Vogue. The lipstick she bought was thick like paste and she could taste it on her teeth, and her head was stiff with hairspray. If any of her old friends from school saw her this way, walking down the street or buying fruits at the market there was no way they would’ve recognized her. She’d say hello but they would likely just look at her funny, the way people do when strangers come up to say hello.
The stranger she waited for was surely on his way there. She stared at the door nervously as her glasses slowly drooped down her nose. It was the first time someone would be coming up to her room, let alone to have sex with her. It was only after weeks of sifting through sordid private forums on the Internet did she find someone who would make love to her without meeting her first, no questions asked. She wanted to look pretty for him, glamorous and seductive, she wore a top that she thought was too revealing. A knock at the door, and in too many steps she was there to answer it. There was a look in his eyes, a passing, emotionless look. For a moment she thought he would turn and leave. Instead he swept inside like a gust of wind, locking the door behind him. She stumbled backward and fell to the floor. He hovered over her like a sentinel as she waited for him, the fear and excitement inside her winding tighter and tighter together.
"awkward" looking girl, very heavy makeup, sexy top, square glasses, wooden floor, spotlight
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