The contemplation passed as Caroline came up and they looked each other over.Caroline was wearing a short halter top nightie, black and almost transparent, and matching panties and heels. No stockings tonight, thought Anita, wondering if this was significant. For her part, Caroline loved Anita’s outfit, suspecting that John would want her to be able to remove it before the night was over. She especially liked Anita’s thong panties, which were so sheer that her pubic hair and the crack of her ass were clearly visible and held up by ties at each hip. How delicious, she thought.With some trepidation and an exquisite sense of vulnerability, Anita trailed Caroline into the parlor, where they found their husbands sitting in large, overstuffed armchairs. The two men were about halfway through wineglasses of sherry. A second was next to them on end-tables. Caroline walked right up to her husband, slipping onto his lap, kissing him warmly and passionately as he handed the full glass to her.. She was something that I’d created, just like a picture. She was a piece of my art, with no more substance than the mirror world she lived in.The most amazing thing was that I could feel myself slumping on the inside – drawing back inside of myself, but the girl in the mirror remained standing tall and proud. I half-expected her to wink at me at any second, or perhaps blow me a kiss, or do some other outrageously flirty thing that was the complete opposite of anything I would ever do.I watched through the glass as she turned and brushed her lips over her sister’s cheek in silent apology. Then she stalked silently from the room like a cat prowling through its territory and waving its tail high in the air with just the tip flipping back and forth.I went back to my room to change my clothes. I went for my full length mauve skirt and a high-necked, long-sleeved shirt. I decided to leave my hair the way it was. It had never been like that before and I wasn’t used to it. I guess that’s why.
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