Neil was still in the bathroom. She could see its light down the hall and she could hear him brushing his teeth. Melinda took a deep breath and studied herself in the mirror. Was it right? Was she perfect, for him? Oh, she hoped.

Her hair was loose and lustrous, framing an oval face with strongly chiseled features. Melinda shook her hair, delighting in the way it shimmered and fell into place around her face, onto her shoulders. She rarely wore makeup – her eyes were naturally dark, her lips and cheeks healthy pink – but the modest amount she'd just applied highlighted her features and made them, she hoped, irresistibly appealing.

"Please," she whispered softly, puckering her lips. They made a softly muted red bow, glossy in the bedroom's diffused light.

She turned, profiling before the mirror, and the effect was dramatic. At least, she hoped it was dramatic.

Melinda's negligee was a pale green silk, transparent as plastic cup, though the coloration kept it from being blatantly revealing. But the curves of her pink body showed through – the full high roundness of her tits, the thrust of her hips, the sleekness of her thighs. Facing the mirror, she could see how the clinging silk emphasized her tits, allowed the dark nipple pads to show. She stroked her palms across her breasts, loving the feel of the fabric against them, and her nipples began to erect, punching their outlines into the silk. It was a sexy gown, she was certain. It had cost her ninety dollars and she hoped the expenditure would prove worthwhile.

"Not bad for twenty-nine," she smiled at herself, and the Melinda in the mirror smiled too. It was a pretty smile – but was it pretty enough? Melinda threw back her shoulders, making her tits lift bravely. Alluring, she thought. Pretty isn't what you need.