PRUE
For the hundredth time, I tug on the neckline of the dress, trying to adjust it to cover a little more of my generous boobs where it dips into a deep V at the front. It’s revealing more of my rounded flesh than I’m comfortable with but the white dress, blonde wig and bright red lipstick are all part of my costume tonight.
I’m not even sure why I’m here - it’s not like I even know Carolyn that well. We met at the self-defence class we both attend and got chatting and the next thing I knew I’d accepted her invite to her fancy-dress birthday party. At the time, it had sounded like a good idea as I don’t often get the chance to go out and have a little fun, but now I’m just wanting to head home to my bed, which is calling me after a long day at work. I decide I’ll have a drink and stay just long enough to show my face.
The party is already in full swing as I climb out of the cab and music blares from the open door and windows as people mill around out front, drinking beer and goofing around.
I make my way past Spider Man who’s shooting “webs” at his friends from devices strapped to his wrists.
As I approach the front door I notice Super Girl, obviously not feeling so super, as she vomits all over the flower beds. Classy.
I push my way through the throng of people lining the hallway and into the carnage that is Carolyn’s birthday party.
The living area is packed with people dancing and drinking and couples making out in dark corners. The pervasive smell of sweat and pot is heavy in the air. My nose wrinkles in distaste, having more reason than most to hate those smells. A keg of beer sits on a stand next to the kitchen hatch and a group of guys dressed as ninja turtles are gathered around it downing shots.
“Prue, you came!”
I hear a familiar squeal behind me and turn to see Carolyn. She’s a complete Disney nerd, so I’m not at all surprised to see her dressed as Tinkerbell, complete with gossamer wings and wand. “Hey, Carolyn. Sorry I’m late, I came straight from work. Happy birthday!”
“Thanks, Prue.” Carolyn shoves a plastic cup of punch under my nose. “Here ya go! You got some catching up to do.” I’m pretty sure Carolyn is already shit-faced, judging by the way she’s swaying on her feet and slurring her words. “Your get-up looks amazeballs by the way. You look hot as Marilyn Monroe, I almost didn’t recognize you with the blonde wig!”
I take the cup from her and hold it up to my nose before taking a sip. The liquid burns a fiery trail down my throat and makes my eyes water. “There’s a lot of people here,” I choke, indicating the packed room around us.
“Yeah, my brother crashed the party with some of his friends,” Carolyn replies, pointing at the ninja turtles by the beer keg who now appear to be trying to out-ninja each other. Or dancing – it’s hard to tell.
“Hey, Carolyn!” Elvis appears behind her in a white jewelled one-piece slit to the waist with fake chest hair, “Maisie needs you – she’s hurling up on the flower beds out front. I’ve been holding her hair up for the last five minutes but I think she may need to go home.”
“Wunnerful!” Carolyn wobbles on her feet and sloshes some of her drink down the front of her outfit. “Mingle!” she instructs, spreading her arms wide to indicate the room at large as she’s dragged off by Elvis.
This whole experience is becoming more surreal by the minute.
I take another swallow of my drink as I scope the room again, the liquid sliding down my throat a little easier this time. I’m feeling out of my element and the need for my bed is outweighing the need to party. I drain the contents of the plastic cup – may as well enjoy a little nightcap before I leave -and pull out my cell to call a cab. As I turn towards the door I slip on a puddle of beer on the floor and my feet shoot out from underneath me.
I’m about to eat the ground in spectacular style when strong hands break my fall. Strong, green hands. I look up into a pair of chocolate brown eyes surrounded by a beautifully sculpted face which the green paint does nothing to disguise. For a moment, it feels like we’re suspended in time as I lose myself in the heat of his hands on my waist, his thumbs lingering just below my breasts and I can almost hear the zap of attraction that crackles in the air between us.
Before I can make sense of my overwhelming reaction, a pair of sensual lips come crashing down against my own and I’m being kissed senseless by none other than Shrek. And, by God, Shrek is a good kisser!
It takes me a full minute to realize that not only am I enjoying the kiss, I’m also kissing him back.
At some point, my hands have tangled in his thick, dark hair as his tongue dances with mine. His mouth is making my whole body sing, making me want things.
Dirty things.
Filthy things.
Reality comes crashing down on me as I remember where we are and what I’m allowing him to do to me. I wrench myself out of his arms, which is no mean feat considering the size of him. He’s a mountain of a man and it seems his costume choice fits him in more ways than one.
“Get your fucking hands off me!” I’m breathing heavily as I give him my best death stare – the one that normally makes men turn and run in the opposite direction. I’m not sure why I’m so angry. Or so turned on.
My stare doesn’t have any effect on Shrek and he doesn’t move, looking a little shaken himself as he holds his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.
“Whilst I appreciate your help, I would’ve appreciated it more if you’d kept your tongue in your own mouth!” I turn on my heel, without mishap this time, and march toward the door. As I leave, I am definitely not thinking about the feel of his mouth on mine or the annoying throb between my legs.
Nope, not thinking about it at all.