A is for Anniversary.

Oh for the love of... I'm beyond exasperated with myself right now.

Why me? I must ask myself this at least 30 times a day; of all the days to cut myself shaving, it has to be today.

Brilliant.

A plaster stuck on my leg will go fantastically well with my red ensemble. I'm cursed, I swear I'm cursed! I knew getting them waxed would have been easier; I should have listened to Alice but I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a wimp. One bad experience has honestly put me off for life. I won't go into too many details but it involved left over sticky wax, and a furry rug - let's just say I needed to be cut free. I'm an accident prone nightmare and tonight's important so I thought shaving would be safer, after all who manages to wax themselves to the carpet?

So as I hop down the stairs to find the plasters I question why am I putting myself through all of this and more importantly can I even pull this off? (Note to self: remember to remove plaster before he gets here.)

I left Alice in charge of my anniversary outfit - I knew if I walked into the shop I'd be walking out with un-matching underwear and as cute as I think pink bras with green spots are; I know he just wouldn't see the sexy side. I was too scared to open the bag and see what horrors would be inside, so I left it untill tonight so I couldn't 'chicken-out'. What a mistake that was! I carefully peal open the bag, the speed I'm going you'd expect something gruesome and evil about to pop out. I keep my eyes averted and put my hand inside the bag. I'm trying to persuade myself it's just like a lucky dip. There's a wonderful surprise inside, nothing at all to be scared off. "Oh Holy mother of hell; what the?" I definitely feel lace, I also most definitely feel flimsy barely existent material. That's it I'm burning up. I can't do this. Bella Swan does not do flimsy barely there outfits.

I try to pluck up the courage to keep going, I haven't even seen it yet. It might not be that bad! I take the plunge and my prize is... I've got stockings and a gareta? No that doesn't sound right a grater? Oh you know what I mean - a garter! The suspender thingy (big gulp) and the reddest, laciest brassier and knickers (if you can call this small piece of material that) set you have ever seen.

I'm not hyperventilating, this isn't a problem...Deep breaths, deep calm breaths - 1..2..3...breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. 1...2...3...I can do this, I can pull this off.

As I look from the monstrosity in front of me to my 'Dogs are for life not just for Christmas' baggy t-shirt. I'm seriously considering the latter outfit. Who doesn't love a t-shirt with puppies on? They're sexy right? they really get your significant other in the mood... I'm going to have to wear the underwear aren't I? There is no escape from this.

I dream of these romantic picturesque evenings; spending the night wrapped up and totally consumed with eachother but I never manage to pull them off. Thank God for Alice. She's always prepared for when I'm about to have one of my 'episodes' - hence the wonderful checklist I have tonight; just so I make it through.

Right, I'm in the zone, I'm feeling confident, I'm going to pull this off, it will NOT be a disaster; bring it on and let the games begin.

1. Shave – carefully! - Too late for that I think, brooding over my cut leg.

2. Lightly Blow-Dry hair. - Or in Bella's world catch the end of hairdryer on my dressing gown and leave the room smelling of burnt material

3. Keep make-up light and subtle and add a hint of red-lip. - Why? I'm getting into bed, make up will mean I have to get back out to wash?

4. Moisturise. - Ah, what's the point? It just makes me all slimey

5. Go back and actually do number 4! - Is she hiding in my closet?

Right lets get moisturising.. - Then stand with legs hip width apart and shake arms around to try and dry off - even if no-one else admits this; I know I'm not the only one to do this.

I must remember the plaster; I'll take it off before I put the stockings on.

6. Perfume, mood music and candles - Check!

7. Barry White is not sexy - don't even consider it! - I'll just go change albums..

I need a time check; It's 19:30 - I have 45 minutes left before he arrives, I can do this. I can connect these suspenders to the stockings. No problem just pull up the stockings, pull down the dangly bits? Hook it all together? I quickly check the back of the packet just incase they printed instructions for us less sexily inclined females? No such luck..

Oh no! - Cue ripping sound and a giant ladder. I made a hole in the stocking! I hop over to the bag praying to God that Alice can save me. She knew I'd do that - God bless Alice my savior. I pull two more pairs of stockings out the bag. I've got to be very careful with these; although I have to wonder If I can't get these bloody things to hook together, how's he meant to get them off?

I dial her number as fast as I can, time is running out and I haven't even reached number 8 on the list.

"Alice, how do I get the dangly bits to hook into the socks?" I plead, full of desperation.

"Are you for real?" Alice said exasperated.

"I've ripped one already and I looked at the packaging and there are no instructions! Hellllpppp me." I whine.

"It's simple, you slide the round rubber disc C-A-R-E-F-U-L-L-Y into the hook, whilst holding the stocking in between. Am I going to have to come round and do it for you? It's not brain surgery." Alice proclaims matter of factly.

"Uh, just like that? Ok thanks." I ring off, rolling my eyes. Sounds simple she says, not like brain surgery she says.

After some very careful maneuvers and lots of one leg hopping I've just managed to get it connected together so I bend down to send a celebratory text proving I'm a perfectly able person. Besides I could easily cope with brain surgery compared to this.

I could feel my nerves really starting to kick in, the type where your stomach ties itself into knots . Time was running out and I was doubting my ability to pull this off.

I pick my phone up and fire off another message to Alice:

19:47: What if he sees me and just laughs? I don't DO this kind of thing. B x

19:48: He's a man, and he's your man how can he not love it. Grab a glass of wine and relax. Ring me Monday with all the details. Remember to have fun. x

Fun, yeah fun! As if this could be classed as fun. The mounting pressure and the need to get everything right is scary enough but the thoughts racing through my head doubting myself and trying to work out exactly what his reaction will be is horrendous. Operation seduce Fiancée in sexy outfit that I probably have on all wrong is easy, totally fun and enjoyable, I'm a hot, non gangly woman, I can do this. He'll love it; he will be sooo in love with me, won't he? I can feel the voice inside my head reaching exceptionally high pitches as internally I start to panic.

I slowly wander over to the bed, one hand on my hip; swaying my hips as I walk. I can act sexy, I embody sexiness - I ooze it. I trip on my night shirt i left on the floor as I land with a thud on the bed. I'll just lie down on the bed and drape my arms above my head, cross my legs, un-cross my legs, stretch out, bunch up, roll up into a ball. Screw it - I'll hide under the duvet. I am not doing this. No no no, how do you lie sexily?

Erm. Right? I'll just lie flat and cross my legs at the ankles. Keep it nice and simple. Oh yeah because that's flattering everyone loves the ironing board with lopsided boobs and a double chin look. Gravity - who knew it would be such a cruel mistress? Even this bra can't keep my girls in place. Maybe sitting up would help them hang a bit better?

How exactly do you look sexy on a bed? Now, this is the stuff we should be taught in school. Not Pythagoras theorem or advanced calculus. When have I ever needed that in real life? There was Mr Palmer telling me I would never achieve or get a good job unless I learnt how to answer these Math questions. But I proved Mr Palmer wrong, look at me now; I'm a high achiever, I have a good job, I'm happy and I have a fiancée. Well I did have a fiancée, I probably won't after this evening. I shift on the bed again and try bending my knees and putting my feet flat. Now I'm just offering up the goods on a plate.

Perhaps standing will be better, I casually stroll towards the wardrobe and position myself up against one of the doors. I place my hands behind my back, which successfully makes my breasts more prominent. Oh hell no, I just caught sight of myself in the mirror opposite; yeah I'm not staying here.

There's only one thing for it - my good old friend Google always has the answers. I frantically type into the search bar: 'How to lie sexily on a bed' when I hear keys fumbling at the front door.

"Honey?" He calls up the stairs.

"I, I'm, In.. I'm up here" I hurriedly shout out

Oh supercadufragilistaxpialidocious is 45minutes up already?

I hear him push the front door to and his footfalls on the stairs as he starts to ascend the stairs. My heart is beating in time with his steps. I'm not ready. I AM NOT READY!

I'm still standing in the middle of the room with my phone in hand. All reason has gone out of the window, I didn't finish Alice's list, I don't know how to lie sexy, I haven't had a glass of wine and I certainly cannot do this. What do I do with my phone? I'm too anxious to think straight so I just fling it.

My phone lands in the bin. I must remember to get that out later.

I throw myself onto the bed and prop myself up as best as I can. I'm awkward, un-organised and totally not ready for this. I try to smile but it's forced because I'm too nervous to be happy.

The door swings open and hits the wall with a bump, I feel like every noise is resonating in my head. His footsteps, my breathing, my heartbeat. He catches my eyes straight away and I see him take a deep breath and suck it in through his teeth. He starts fumbling with his shirt; wrestling with it to get it off over his head, forgetting he needs to un-do the buttons. I hope this is a good sign, if he's forgetting to undo the buttons. That must be from excitement. I faintly hear the shirt hit the floor. He excitedly tugs at his belt, trying to escape as quickly as he can. He undoes his zipper and hops from one leg to the other as he pulls them down at super sonic speed. He stumbles and trips as he rushes towards me on the bed. Oh god, this is really happening. This is actually happening.

I chance another quick look at his face, almost too scared to see what he's thinking. He looks - excited.

He's about to speak; I see his adam's apple bob and his lips part, I wait for the onslaught of laughter, wait for it, any second now, he's going to laugh at me.

"Beautiful." He barely whispers the word as he crawls onto the bed to join me. I feel the faint coolness of his breath as he deeply inhales and exhales the closer he gets to me.

He likes it, he actually likes it! I owe Alice big time!

He is face to face with me and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. He moves towards my ear and his lips faintly touch me. I'm instantly covered in goosebumps from head to toe, he softly mumbles into my ear; "I've been thinking about you all day." Damn! He's got this sexy, sultry stuff down to a T. He continues to croon into my ear, I can feel the whispers resonate down my body. He's talking and I'm just nodding; I just can't seem to find my own voice. It would be easier if he wasn't naked. Those shoulders are so distracting.

"Happy Anniversary Baby" he's continues to whisper. I've moved past nervous and now my hearts pounding wildly because I'm excited. Every word he utters is easing my worry and panic. He was always so much better at all of this than me.

I've got thousands of things racing through my head; shall I try some of this dirty talk Alice's been trying to coax me into all week, "Hey Hot stuff, fancy a ride?" I just grimaced at myself. I'm concentrating so hard on what to say to him that I'm barely noticing his movements. He's stroking down the side of my arm - I'm feeling very dirty dancing-esque right now. But I shouldn't laugh, I don't want to ruin the moment especially tonight. Any other time I would have done, he's probably shocked that I've managed to last this long. In typical woman style I have this niggling feeling in the back of my head; do I look ok? Do my legs look slim? Am I doing everything right? Should I breathe in a bit more? Have I smudged my make up? Did I remember to turn the tap off in the bathroom?

From his actions I don't think he cares how I look right now. He's touching the tops of my legs; the sensation is almost too much. The light caressing of his fingertips trailing down my thighs leaving bumps in their wake, he slowly starts unfastening the suspenders.

How'd he get that undone so fast? Maybe there's a suspender school I don't know about?

He's rolling down my stockings - I feel like I'm in a movie! Gradually gliding down my leg, every second he's inching closer and closer towards my ankle. Gently peppering kisses onto my skin as he goes. I feel, adored, I actually feel sexy. That's what was missing; he was the one I needed to make this all fall together and work. I'm wrapped up in the sensations and the soft noises he's eliciting the lower he gets.

When...

His hands come to a stop.

He's stopped. Why?

What's happened? I have the full outfit on, I moisturised, I even remembered the lipstick.

He looks directly into my eyes for the first time since he walked in. His bright brown eyes seem to really see me. They look straight through me making me feel so exposed yet completely safe in his company. I let my eyes wander down to his mouth there's a smirk playing on his lips.

In a warm and husky voice he utters; "Baby, you are beautiful."

If it's even possible I go even weaker at the knees.

He starts to talk again, that same smirk playing on his lips. He looks mischievous, what is he up to?

"But why have you got a Mr. Men plaster on your leg?"

"OH SHIT!"