The Rannoch Pants
Tali stood in the changing, clasping the blue cloth in her two nervous hands, her eyes sparkling with intrigue and utter fear glaring at the denim pants she now slowly unfolded from the shopping bag. The changing room’s pasty blue walls closed in on her, intimidating her to slip on the pants called “jeans” that Shepard relentlessly pressured her to wear. Grinning, Tali put a quaking hand on her soft forehead finally succumbing to the claustrophobic walls intimidating and taunting presence. The mirrors smooth surface held a pathetic sight. Tali could feel her puffy cheeks heat up, like an open oven’s hands were paving a hot substance into her skin, glaring at herself, who was standing in black panties, nervously clasping onto the foreign attire.
“You win Shep,” she softly whispered. The fabric was thick and smelled like new clothes, a luxury she was once not used to, but now, every day, Tali would slip into her walk in closet at home grabbing all her clothes, inhaling the ambrosial vapors of the detergent and softener used to wash her clothes. Snapping out of the temporary daydream, she inserted her left foot into the left side of the jeans, shortly followed by her right, pulling the form fitting pants up her lanky legs.
“Keelah,” she said through lips as thin as razors. Fear hit her. The pants didn’t fit. Savagely, she pulled the jeans up over her hips, the tight fabric scooping her skin at the belt line like a pin kneading dough.
“Come on!”
The zipper slowly clicked as her two fingers pinched the brass tongue, pulling it up to her belly button, that was now exposed as she held the rim of her shirt under her chin, fumbling with the pants.
“Got yeah!”
Her eyes slimmed to needles as she callously glared at the next step.
The button.
Visibly gnawing on her tongue, she turned to the sickly mirror, petrified she was gaining weight. Tali spun to the side so her curvy body was sideways and she sucked in her stomach so her ribs were protruding from her elastic skin.
No fat that she could see.
Good.
Distastefully, she stared back at her brass nemesis, whose icy lips were kissing her supple belly. Emptying her lungs, she sucked in her stomach and heard the most satisfying noise.
“Pop!”
Her head snapped to the mirror, staring at the spoils of war which hugged her legs. If she had to say so herself, she looks mighty fine in these new pants. The blue denim was dark and slightly faded in some areas, as Shepard said it was a fashion thing. They hugged her recurve shins and thighs like vacuum wrap but the sight was aesthetically pleasing. They accented her quarian hip and backside. Now not nervous anymore, she could breathe as the walls retreaded. Anxious to show them to the man she loved who sat outside, her fingers glided over the latch keeping the door shut. Leaning on the wall, striking an attractive pose, she snapped her hip to the right showing off the new pants to Shepard who peeked over a magazine in a plastic chair over in the corner.
“So…what do you think?”
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:wub:
