Post by Lisa Cuddy on Feb 23, 2007 18:47:16 GMT -5
(This RP is open to a few people, but not too many. I've left a couple of doors open as to who may join. Like the noise downstairs can be someone, for whatever reason, in her home (XD), or you can be the blind date she's supposed to meet. Whatever ^^. I wrote this originally for a fanfiction, but I love the way it feels, so I edited it to fit Cuddy. Bam. I'll probably post this here and in the Crossover section, too.
This can be silly or serious, I don't care. I'll be using other people, made-ups in a technical sense, but just as fillers or plot movers. Feel free to do the same.
And if you're wondering, the title is also the title of the song I was listening to while posting this. Instant Pleasure by Rufus Wainwright.)
The water was hot against her skin as she stepped into the shower, pulling the glass door closed behind her. She let the thick steam billow around her as she stood under the cascade, letting her body grow accustomed to the sudden exposure to heat before moving to grab her loofa. Her skin was alive with electric responses. Each drop of water stimulated a spark against her body that caused her to shudder. Her anticipation towards the night ahead was projecting itself into her very being, and the stream of warm water falling around her, usually something she could relax with, did nothing but excite her.
She closed her eyes, letting her hands work instinctively with the soap and sponge to get a lather going.
How could this blind date be any different than all the others? Why should it be special? A pretty dress and a good attitude was not enough to create a soul mate in someone she had yet to meet. So why get so excited about it? True, you haven’t had a proper date in a while now, with House lurking everywhere, but so what? The guy tonight could be a jerk. You’ve had that date before. Though, there is the possibility of se…
The shampoo in her hair ran down her cheeks, threatening to sting her eyes if she continued to space out. Tilting her head back, she let the lightly perfumed shampoo rinse from her hair, an effective solution.
Lisa grinned. Shaking her head and, making sure the last of the shampoo was out of her hair and her body was cleansed of soap, she shut off the water and stepped into the bathroom, warm water dripping from her thick hair like rain trapped in the boughs of trees. She grabbed the nearby towels, wrapping one around her slender frame and the other into a makeshift turban around her head.
As she entered the bedroom she couldn’t help but bite her lip and giggle to herself. The dress was waiting patiently on her bed. She knew she would look stunning in it, which was why she had bought it earlier that day. She was simply passing the store when she saw it in her peripheral vision on a rack inside. The rest was fate. The right size. On sale. She had to have it.
She remembered thinking, as if trying in vain to dissuade herself, if I get that, where the hell would I wear it? The blind date had miraculously fallen into place after that.
Toweling off and slipping into panties and a black, strapless bra, Lisa picked up the dress and danced with it in a swirling step as she made her way to the mirror. Standing there, with the dress draping down in front of her and her hair still trapped in the messy wrap on her head, she felt beautiful. She knew it wasn’t because of the clothes. Something else made her feel beautiful, something she couldn’t name or recognized if it was described to her. Something private and secret, so much so that even she was oblivious to what it was. Maybe tonight she would figure it out.
Feeling lighter than she thought possible without the aid of some illegal substance, Lisa slipped into the deep red dress, unable to resist its call any longer. She still had to fix her hair and makeup, but she had to see what it looked like on her, in the comfort of her bedroom.
It fit her as if it had been sown around her frame. All the subtle, dangerous curves of her body were highlighted. It had a simple front, a low neckline that accentuated rather than insulted her large breasts, and thin straps over the shoulders. The back was far more intricate, the lace dancing in a criss-cross pattern down her back, exposing her skin from shoulder blades to the top of her tail bone. The skirt reached her ankles, with a sexy slit up the right side that touched her hip, leaving her soft, smooth legs cleverly displayed.
Pulling the towel from her head, she let the damp waves of her hair fall around her shoulders. Even without make-up and the hairstyle she had in mind she felt exotic. Her heart began to race at the thought of her blind date’s face when he met her at the restaurant. What a first impression that would be.
She pulled herself away from the mirror and swayed with euphorically unsure steps to the vanity. She didn’t know how she was going to do an acceptable job on her make up when she was shaking so badly. The safest thing to do was work on her hair until she relaxed a little. Pausing as she plugged in the hair drier, her breath caught in her throat. She thought she had heard a noise. Living alone, this kind of moment happened more often than her pride was ready to admit. She stayed completely still, fearing to breathe, for a full three minutes before allowing herself to turn on the hair drier. It’s your nerves acting up, that’s all.
There’s no one downstairs.
This can be silly or serious, I don't care. I'll be using other people, made-ups in a technical sense, but just as fillers or plot movers. Feel free to do the same.
And if you're wondering, the title is also the title of the song I was listening to while posting this. Instant Pleasure by Rufus Wainwright.)
The water was hot against her skin as she stepped into the shower, pulling the glass door closed behind her. She let the thick steam billow around her as she stood under the cascade, letting her body grow accustomed to the sudden exposure to heat before moving to grab her loofa. Her skin was alive with electric responses. Each drop of water stimulated a spark against her body that caused her to shudder. Her anticipation towards the night ahead was projecting itself into her very being, and the stream of warm water falling around her, usually something she could relax with, did nothing but excite her.
She closed her eyes, letting her hands work instinctively with the soap and sponge to get a lather going.
How could this blind date be any different than all the others? Why should it be special? A pretty dress and a good attitude was not enough to create a soul mate in someone she had yet to meet. So why get so excited about it? True, you haven’t had a proper date in a while now, with House lurking everywhere, but so what? The guy tonight could be a jerk. You’ve had that date before. Though, there is the possibility of se…
The shampoo in her hair ran down her cheeks, threatening to sting her eyes if she continued to space out. Tilting her head back, she let the lightly perfumed shampoo rinse from her hair, an effective solution.
Lisa grinned. Shaking her head and, making sure the last of the shampoo was out of her hair and her body was cleansed of soap, she shut off the water and stepped into the bathroom, warm water dripping from her thick hair like rain trapped in the boughs of trees. She grabbed the nearby towels, wrapping one around her slender frame and the other into a makeshift turban around her head.
As she entered the bedroom she couldn’t help but bite her lip and giggle to herself. The dress was waiting patiently on her bed. She knew she would look stunning in it, which was why she had bought it earlier that day. She was simply passing the store when she saw it in her peripheral vision on a rack inside. The rest was fate. The right size. On sale. She had to have it.
She remembered thinking, as if trying in vain to dissuade herself, if I get that, where the hell would I wear it? The blind date had miraculously fallen into place after that.
Toweling off and slipping into panties and a black, strapless bra, Lisa picked up the dress and danced with it in a swirling step as she made her way to the mirror. Standing there, with the dress draping down in front of her and her hair still trapped in the messy wrap on her head, she felt beautiful. She knew it wasn’t because of the clothes. Something else made her feel beautiful, something she couldn’t name or recognized if it was described to her. Something private and secret, so much so that even she was oblivious to what it was. Maybe tonight she would figure it out.
Feeling lighter than she thought possible without the aid of some illegal substance, Lisa slipped into the deep red dress, unable to resist its call any longer. She still had to fix her hair and makeup, but she had to see what it looked like on her, in the comfort of her bedroom.
It fit her as if it had been sown around her frame. All the subtle, dangerous curves of her body were highlighted. It had a simple front, a low neckline that accentuated rather than insulted her large breasts, and thin straps over the shoulders. The back was far more intricate, the lace dancing in a criss-cross pattern down her back, exposing her skin from shoulder blades to the top of her tail bone. The skirt reached her ankles, with a sexy slit up the right side that touched her hip, leaving her soft, smooth legs cleverly displayed.
Pulling the towel from her head, she let the damp waves of her hair fall around her shoulders. Even without make-up and the hairstyle she had in mind she felt exotic. Her heart began to race at the thought of her blind date’s face when he met her at the restaurant. What a first impression that would be.
She pulled herself away from the mirror and swayed with euphorically unsure steps to the vanity. She didn’t know how she was going to do an acceptable job on her make up when she was shaking so badly. The safest thing to do was work on her hair until she relaxed a little. Pausing as she plugged in the hair drier, her breath caught in her throat. She thought she had heard a noise. Living alone, this kind of moment happened more often than her pride was ready to admit. She stayed completely still, fearing to breathe, for a full three minutes before allowing herself to turn on the hair drier. It’s your nerves acting up, that’s all.
There’s no one downstairs.