Chapter 5 - Pub Crawler
April sat on her sofa, glass of whisky in one hand, the television remote in the other, feet propped up on the coffee table. Her boyfriend, David, was away with a few friends at a music festival in Europe and her other housemates had gone to visit their respective families for the weekend, leaving her alone in the house for the first time in months. Living with three men was exhausting; they constantly abandoned piles of washing up in the sink, turned a blind eye to broken cupboard doors and point-blank refused to lift a finger to mow the grass. April often found that if the wanted a job done then she had to do it herself. Now, with a few days carved out just for her - no noisy drunken men coming home at 5am in the morning or abandoned boxes of chicken bones littering the lounge - the weekend stretched deliciously ahead of her, full of possibilities.
It was a cold Friday evening, and the long February night chilled the air that crept in under the door. April drew the curtains, poured herself another glass of whisky and lit 3 candles in the fireplace. She re-watched several episodes of her favourite crime drama. Voices passed in the street outside, headed to the pub at the end of the road. Normally, the whole household would do something on a Friday night, getting drunk at home on wine and cans of cheap lager, then head out to The Swan, or catch the tube into London and drink and dance in one of the bars in Shore Dutch or the clubs in Horton. April felt slightly lonely without them.
By 11:30, her confidence built up by the 3 or 4 whiskeys she had drunk that evening, April decided to drop in at the pub for a quick drink. She knew all the bar staff, and was bound to bump into a few regulars that she recognised. She headed upstairs into her bedroom, shimmied out of her comfy leggings and oversized shirt and stood in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.
Firstly, she needed some better underwear.
For some reason, just knowing that she had a good set of matching underwear on beneath her clothes made her feel confident, stand taller, and feel sexier - even if nobody knew she had them on. She clambered out of the ones she was wearing and reached for a matching set of midnight blue knickers and bra. The bikini style knickers were made of a silken fabric with a black lace trim, and they snugly hugged the curve of her hips. The lightly padded bra, in a plunge style that gently pressed her breasts together to create a deep cleavage, was also made of dark navy silk, the edges of the cups trimmed with more black lace. April had been a 30 DD almost from the moment her breasts first blossomed - although now in her mid 20s, having discovered the joys of baking, her previously skinny figure had filled out a little. She was still slim, but a healthy covering of plumpness now filled out her stomach, bottom and breasts - although her legs and remained slender. She smiled back at herself, then turned and pulled on her clothes.
A pair of blue skinny jeans, intentionally ripped at the knees and in one place on her upper left thigh. A black, slim-fitting top cut low enough to reveal the soft curves just at the top of her breasts. Black, chunky heeled boots to add height but ensure she wouldn't trip on her way to or from the pub. A slick of red lipstick to freshen up the faded makeup she had applied earlier. A quick brush through of her mid-length blonde hair. She stood by the door, checked her keys and her wallet, then stepped out into the street.
April could see the lights of the pub beckoning her, and hear the music blared out by the DJ thumping through the cold air. She hurried along the road, up the steps of the pub and flashed her ID to the bouncers waiting at the door. Inside, it was dark and loud, and everyone already seemed much more drunk than she was. She pushed through the crowds toward the bar and pulled up a chair, nodding to the woman who stood there pulling pints and taking orders.