the tinyblog

She paced listlessly across the living room floor. She wanted to cry, or scream, but felt too overwhelmed and exhausted to bother. What was she waiting for anyway? Who was she waiting for? She didn't even want to remember. The whole day had passed with a restless feeling of anticipation, like a child waiting for christmas, or, she thought ruefully, more like a dog waiting for its master to come home.

Pathetic. Suddenly irate, she stormed into the bedroom and threw off her clothes, tossing them onto the floor recklessly, knowing her anal retentive side would force her to pick them up soon.

As usual, the skinny girl in the mirror looked back at her with a dissatisfied expression. Slowly moving closer, she examined herself with a discerning eye, sliding her hands over her lanky hips and little breasts. She held each one up in turn as if to weigh the small, soft handfuls of flesh. Turning, she watched her long, tousled blond hair swing, felt it brush smoothly across the small of her back.

Not too bad for a thirty year old ass... but as soon as the thought crossed her mind she felt silly. She wrapped her arms around herself reassuringly, rocking slightly. An amused smile curved her mouth. Enough of this funk! No more waiting around. She began to move sensuously, hips wiggling and her lips curled in a thoroughly feline grin. Time to dance!

She twirled over to the closet and fingered through her dresses, pulling out several in a whirl of greens, purples and blues, then discarding them on the bed. Reaching into the farthest recesses, she felt around untill her fingers hit leather. Yeah, that's the one for tonight.

Cobalt blue leather and it still fit her like a glove, a tiny, tight glove. A quick dig through the pile of shoes at the bottom of her closet yielded up her high heeled boots. She buttoned them up, dragged a comb through her hair and was out the door.

rzan