I spent the day shopping online. I was on for like six hours, and I can’t remember what I bought.

Clothes. Jewelry.

I adore this new age. I can buy stuff and not have to interact with people.

I decide to really treat myself and order a celebration hamper from a fancy spot. Champagne, roses, strawberries, and an incredible box of fine chocolates. It will be here in a few hours.

I run a very warm bath and put on a face mask with eye treatment. There’s nothing better in this world than a bath and some pampering on a boring day.

I go over my legs gently with cream soap. They’re hairless, perfect. Recent wax jobs at one of the city’s best salons.

Even my toenails are perfect. And my pussy is a thing of beauty, too, perfectly waxed with a very small, neat ‘V’ of dark brown hair.

All this bounty, and no one to enjoy it.

I rub conditioning oil into my hair and lay back in the warm bubbles. A sappy love song plays on the radio.

Love is bullshit. Trust me, I tried it. I like money and my own company far better.

It doesn’t have to be love, though.

While I’m resting back in the hot water, I can’t stop thinking of Derek. Of him peeling off those gorgeous luxury suits of fine fabric to show me the hard man underneath.

I would love to rub oil onto his skin. Gently. Over a matter of hours…while he’s tied up.

My hand slips beneath the bubbles. I lean back in the water and let my legs fall open.

I’ll work on him for hours with the slippery hot oil until his cock is hard and straining. Push my tits in his face, almost close enough to touch with his tongue, but not quite.

Massage his balls while they’re all slippery with oil.

And finally, slide on to him and work him slowly while he begs for me.

Even though I have everything just the way I like it, I can’t come. Part of my brain refuses to engage.

The cock’s only in your mind, honey. It’s not real. Do you really think that’s enough?

Oh, if pussies could talk. Fuck that would be awkward.

I rinse my hair slowly, scrub off the mask, and rub lots of soft cream on my face. I like to walk around naked when drying off. It’s really good for the skin.

Once I start to feel cool, I rub honey moisturizer onto my whole body, taking time with small, circular strokes.

When your body is your money maker, you find all sorts of ways to optimize it.

I had hoped to distract myself, but if anything, I’m more frustrated than ever. My clit is throbbing, just lightly, but enough to be really fucking annoying.

If I think about my pussy at all, it immediately starts to get wet. I don’t want to think about how long it’s been since I had sex.

I don’t want to think about Derek.

But I can’t help it. I’m thinking about Derek.

I go to the closet and think about what to wear. Maybe I should just walk downstairs naked.

Then, I realize…I’ve practically already decided to try and meet him in the foyer.

That’s what this whole beauty routine was all about.

But what exactly am I going to do? He won’t notice me. He’ll be running, two steps at a time, his focus on his phone.

If I go down naked, maybe I’ll get a glance. Or maybe not.

But my bod is all ready for action now. It needs a fine garment to set it off. I rifle through all my clothes, not sure what to pick.

Grey dress with pleated skirt? Gold silk sheath? White peasant dress?

With a little gasp, I pull out an old beauty from the back of the rack. It’s a short shirt dress that buttons up the front.

Almost the same kind I imagine Derek’s future wife would wear. Except it’s not pastel; it’s black with bright red poppies.

I slip into it and button up the front. I like feeling naked under it, knowing only one small, fragile line of buttons stands between me and total nudity.

The bell rings, and I hurry to answer it.

It’s my hamper arriving. The delivery boy is too young to interest me, even though he looks me over appreciatively. Maybe even expectantly.

Who knows what tasty bits delivery boys get into? But I’m not even slightly enticed.

Some other day, punk. I’m not in the mood to break a greenhorn today.

I want a man. A real man. One who’s big in every way and knows how to fuck.

I pour some champagne and bite into a strawberry. I demolish half the box of fine chocolates with three more glasses in between eating strawberries.

Lucky the hamper came with two bottles of Moet. It seems one’s not enough.

The roses are beautiful. Dark and red. The exquisite perfume only enhances the feeling that there’s something special about today.

Today’s the day. But for what?

With shock, I realize it’s getting dark. Time has been flying by while I stuffed my face and got drunk.

If I’m going to try to meet Derek, I have to go now. I’ve got just enough champagne in me to make me bold and bubbly without being stupid.

As I go, I grab my magazine. The one with the black-and-white shoot.

Let’s see if he can resist me in the flesh, presented with my finest angles. Let’s find out how much of a man he really is.

I slip into high-heeled sandals and head downstairs. I want to be just inside the foyer, hiding in the shadows of the stairs.

That way, I can completely take him by surprise. It’s only when you surprise people that you get the honest answers.