{"sf1_id":201133,"sf2_id":"deP4Bp5e","title":"Love At It's Finest: Episode 4","author":"MaerLriole","words":1058,"posted_at":"2010-12-08T21:31:00.000Z","tags":["Crossdressing","Fox","Mouse","Romance"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/201133-love-at-it-s-finest-episode-4","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/deP4Bp5e","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/c9/62/c9625e4d-0415-48f1-b0e7-d6a9784af40d","description":"","content":"\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Today's Saturday, I've woken up, and now I've nearly died of shock.\u0026nbsp; I'm usually not the one to volunteer to wake up before 1 pm.\u0026nbsp; It's ten past eight.\u0026nbsp; Jason said he would pick me up at six o' clock and Abby and I planned to head to the mall at ten in the morning.\u0026nbsp; Thankfully, it really doesn't take me that long to get ready to go out in public.\u0026nbsp; Don't get me wrong, I do quite a bit; I just mastered getting it all done in the eight or so minutes I have each day before school.\u0026nbsp; Today, though, is a weekend; which means I can take my time.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Once my assortment of Silly Bandz, my two bracelets (one a solid black with the picture of a key and the other a checkerboard of black and white), and my two paw pad-warmers, one black and one white, are all on I turn my TV on and stare off into space.\u0026nbsp; Yesterday, when I'd arrived home, I'd asked my grandfather for sixty dollars to buy a new iTunes card when I \"go out with a few friends.\"\u0026nbsp; He was a bit hesitant at first, but gave in; after all, my grandparents think it's completely normal for a teenager to leave the house at least three times a week and, contrary to my mother and aunt, I've never done that in my life.\u0026nbsp; Tonight at six I'll be going on my first date.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; Abby drove up to my house, with her boyfriend in the driver's seat, at five-past-ten.\u0026nbsp; She had told me that her boyfriend will be driving us to everywhere we need to go, but he wouldn't be going inside with us.\u0026nbsp; I didn't know how he felt about that; I was okay with it, though.\u0026nbsp; I bid farewell to my grandparents (my mom still out like a light, I passed on saying goodbye to her) and I get into the car.\u0026nbsp; I'm not usually one for vehicles of any kind.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't tell you the difference between the dashboard and the engine.\u0026nbsp; This car seems like a good one though.\u0026nbsp; Sleek, silver and a comfortable inside.\u0026nbsp; Couldn't tell you what type of car it is though; all I know for sure is that it's a Honda.\u0026nbsp; I only know that because I saw the logo on the car when I first got in.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\n\nOnce I'm in, we head over to the Macy's mall in Rockefeller Center with the radio blasting.\u0026nbsp; Situated in a parking space, Abby and I get out of the car and head inside.\u0026nbsp; \"So is this your first-ever date?\" Abby asks.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Well, yeah,\" I answer, my whole head feeling hotter than the Sahara.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; She grins and says, \"Okay, and how do you feel about suits?\"\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"Honestly? I can't stand them.\"\u0026nbsp; As soon as I say that, I regret it; after all, if you're dressing formally and you don't wear a suit, then there's really only one other option.\u0026nbsp; She grabs my wrist and leads me farther into the store; the Womens' Department visible just above her large, white ears.\u0026nbsp; Before I could stop her, she buys a small set of bras and drags me into the handicapped dressing room stall.\u0026nbsp; She hands me a bra and says, \"Here, put this on; I'll see if I can find something nice for your first date.\"\u0026nbsp; She closes the door behind her on her way out, leaving me there gaping after her with a bra in my paws.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; My tail twitches nervously as I continue to stand there.\u0026nbsp; The last time I'd ever put on womens' clothing was when I was four-years-old and me and my two friends put on humongous dresses and did the Can-Can with each other.\u0026nbsp; That is, unless you count the uni-sex jacket I've taken to wearing to school every day.\u0026nbsp; I heave an enormous sigh and examine the clasp on the bra.\u0026nbsp; When Abby returns, I have the bra fastened across my chest and she's carrying a sunlight/daisy-yellow dress with spaghetti straps.\u0026nbsp; My reaction is immediate.\u0026nbsp; \"Uh-uh, no way.\u0026nbsp; I'm not wearing yellow; no matter what.\"\u0026nbsp; She gives me an annoyed look and flicks her mousey ears back.\u0026nbsp; I cross my arms and stare at her.\u0026nbsp; After a beat she snaps, \"Fine!\" and storms out of the room.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; She comes back in with five different dresses over her arm.\u0026nbsp; The first one she forces over my head is a vibrant, sea green dress that falls in frilled layers to my right ankle and stops just short of my left knee; it has no shoulders.\u0026nbsp; The second one I put on somewhat reluctantly.\u0026nbsp; It's a hot pink dress with puffed up shoulders and it was so short it didn't even reach the halfway point of my thighs.\u0026nbsp; The third dress was a rich blue, but one look at myself in the full-length mirror reminded me of a peacock who's had its feathers ruffled.\u0026nbsp; The fourth dress I tried on wasn't half bad.\u0026nbsp; It was a sleek, sensual little thing that was ebony black.\u0026nbsp; The only problems I had with it was that it was so tight I couldn't even move half an inch and the small fact of my tail being trapped between my legs.\u0026nbsp; The last one Abby convinced me to wear left me in a stunned silence.\u0026nbsp; From a feminine point of view, I never thought of myself as a looker.\u0026nbsp; No real curves and an average look, I was just that; average.\u0026nbsp; If I really tried, I'm pretty sure I could pull off appearing male or female, but I never bothered.\u0026nbsp; But this dress; I didn't even recognize myself.\u0026nbsp; It was a deep, velvety red.\u0026nbsp; My shoulders were covered with a thin, frilly material that looked delicate and regal.\u0026nbsp; The dress flowed down my body like some rich, red wine, adding nonexistent curves to my body.\u0026nbsp; It ended in the slightest slant to my right; waving beautifully around my thighs, just clearing the joint of my thighs and calves.\u0026nbsp; The red of the dress also nicely complemented the black of my fur and set off the gold in my amber eyes.\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; \"You certainly look amazing in that dress, Maer; awe inspiring,\" Abby commented.\u0026nbsp; I didn't reply, I couldn't.\u0026nbsp; \"C'mon,\" she continued, \"you're almost ready for your date.\"\n\n  \n  \n\n","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/194844-love-at-it-s-finest-episode-3.json"}