Vanilla Erotica
"Alexia and Ken Confess About That Day," Erotica by Ralph Greco Jr.
I know Alexia had no idea the effect this was all having on me.
She was telling me how she had been “caught” by her son, Jason’s friend Donny, having literally run into the sixteen year-old boy the night before, while dressed in nothing more then the very short T-shirt she always wears to bed. It was one of those magnesium-flash happenstances, never planned and probably never again thought about after they occur, but given Alexia’s slightly skittish nature with anything sexual, she was fretting over the incident…though chuckling through the retelling. Though I knew through her softly spoken embarrassment the petite brown-haired lady trusted me to be the confidant I have always been, I still sat there in my room letting my mind’s eye create the rather hot picture Alexia was describing.
I was not, and will never be, strong enough to resist my urges where Alexia is concerned.
Sex is always on Ken’s mind.
Why would I ever be surprised he was thinking what he was thinking? I’m not offended; if anything, I think it amusing that he sees something sexual in nearly every single scenario. I’m constantly amazed how the smallest suggestion or off-hand remark will get him imagining all manner of nasty thoughts when not a one ever enters my mind. It’s one of the reasons we are friends really, we look at the world in totally different ways.
I guess I was a bit thrown by this when I first met Ken, but I’ve grown to know the handsome guy well these past three years. He is a good man, unconditionally supportive and has seen me through some rather tough times. He knows more about me (and I him) then some of the friends I have had since high school, and maybe, just a little, there are those moments when I know that what I’m relating might just be tickling him a little bit more then normal, but really I never ever set out to tease the guy. Truth be told, I wouldn’t know what I’d do if push came to shove and Ken made a pass I couldn’t simply laugh off.
So, I innocently told him about my ‘encounter’ with Jason’s friend, Donny, about jolting out of bed for some water, dressed in only my T-shirt walking right into the kid standing in my kitchen! Ken put my mind at ease quickly though, reminding me that sixteen year-old boys are so oblivious that the kid probably didn’t realize what I was not wearing as much as the fact that we had both scared each other half to death in the quiet of my house. Besides, I know I’m not a MILF to Jason’s friends…or at least my son has never told me I am. Most of the time I’m playing touch-football or watching Simpson’s reruns right along with them. I think they regard me more like an older sister…I definitely look small enough when I am surrounded by those big boys! I know Donny’s interest in girls is peeking right along with my son’s, but in the end, I was more embarrassed then Donny who simply passed me with a grumbled “good night Mrs. S.”
Okay, so maybe I knew that I might be getting to Ken a little bit recalling the encounter; I know how he is. But if there is anybody I can confess just about anything to it is Ken, and we were just gabbing away like we do when we get on the phone.
And he did put my mind at ease.
Alexia takes my ‘nudge nudge, winkery’ pretty well.
I had “eased-in” of course when we first met. She was my boss at an after-school program I was coming in twice a week to play music for, but in no time we were bantering. As the soft-faced brunette and I grew closer, I found Alexia could show a slightly randy sense of humor, but not one she ever used unless she knew somebody well. Through those first few weeks of me trying to guess her breast size (seeing that Alexia is a petite four-foot-eleven her ample chest seems all that more “ample”), or my constant threat to spank her when she was short-tempered with the kids (well-warranted outbursts though they were), we grew a deep mutual respect and caring friendship.
As we continued to work through that first after-school program, through two seasons of a summer camp and right back out again into continuous school seasons, Alexia learned she had nothing to fear from my remarks. Regardless of the state of her marriage (I learned it’s not at a good state) and my semi-single status (I date a couple of girls currently) Alexia realized I’d never 'go to a party where I wasn’t invited'. Knowing that Alexia wasn’t attracted to me—or at the very least she wouldn’t want to engage in a physical relationship—made our flirting safer. After feigning embarrassment or shock with something I say, Alexia usually recovers quickly enough to zing me right back.
So of course, I was more then ready to revisit Alexia’s embarrassing nighttime rendezvous when I called her two days later days later. I had Tivo’d a show for her and was planning on dropping the tape by, as we wouldn’t see each other at the center this week do to school Spring-break vacations. Using this opportunity, I quickly circled the conversation round to her confession (as I had every intention of doing when I dialed the phone), of her T-shirt/Donny incident.
I knew that night with Donny would come up again; Ken lives to needle me. Some women my age would ache for this attention. Ken is twelve years my junior and has ‘known’ plenty of women so it follows that if he finds me attractive (which he has told me he does) then I should be flattered. But I have never been good at taking compliments or talking about myself...especially my sexual feelings. I’m not a prude, but I am private when it comes to that aspect of my life and Ken knows what’s happening with my marriage, and can probably assume the rest about my dormant sex life.
I’ll be damned if I’d ever admit it, but it is probably because of Ken’s needling that I am getting better at the comebacks, even enjoying them a little. He seems to have awoken a little vampy-ness in me I probably haven’t felt since…well, I might not have ever felt it. I have never been that kind of a girl: popular, friendly, often called ‘cute’ then ‘sexy’ back in my day. But the way I banter with Ben sometimes is quite new to me. Before I knew what I was saying, I had risen to the occasion and with Ben breathing heavy with that deep chuckle he gets in his throat when he finds something hot, I really couldn’t resist. I wasn’t sure if I was calling him on all the b.s. or if I was fueling the fire, but before I knew it, I said: “You know what? Stop by tomorrow. You can drop off that tape and I’ll answer the door in the T-shirt, since you’re so interested!”
Where the hell this came from, I had no idea. I wasn’t angry, I wasn’t challenging, but my buddy was going on and on teasing me; I guess it just got to the point of ‘shut-up or put-up’. God knew I had never been so bold with Ken (with any man) and I wasn’t really sure after I said what I had, if anything, I would do.
But…
I know Alexia is no prude, but Jesus!
She does tend to play anything sexual close to her chest (and man what a chest it is!), so I was silenced by the offer. I had been attempting to assure Alexia that her son’s friend had most probably not noticed her as much as, say...um...I would have and then BAM she calls my bluff and invites me over to see what Donny saw!
Careful what you wish for indeed.
I hung-up, and my head was spinning.
Would the kids be around, how ‘bout Steven (not that it mattered if he was)? Then I realized that if I was even questioning the condition of my household, if my mentally-vacant husband would be in his basement cave or not that it must mean I was really going to go through with wearing my little T-shirt for Ken. Where the hell this courage was coming from, I really had no idea, but I had thrown down the gauntlet. Ken was so sexually voracious, such a scamp really, he’d never let me forget I had even made the suggestion if I didn’t indeed go through with it now.
It’s one thing to be called a prude but quite another to be thought of as chicken.
I called Alexia from my cell, trying like all hell to keep any hint of anxiousness out of my voice. She didn’t betray anything, sounding as calm as always, as if I was just happening over and she hadn’t dropped the bomb she had the night before. Of course her cool made me even more nervous, I even started wondering if maybe she had forgotten her threat or she was backing out. Usually, I can deliver on all the bullshit I bullshit, but this was Alexia; I wasn’t so sure what I really wanted here. Yeah, I’d die to see her in that T-shirt but all up until now I had been in control of our flirting and the banter. If she actually went through with this and did indeed answer the door in only that tiny shirt, Alexia would be acting very uncharacteristically and that scared me shitless. I really didn’t like being the one not in control.
As I drove my little sports car the fifteen miles to her house, I turned the air conditioner up high.
I really hadn’t thought about IT (and thinking about it then, it definitely felt like an “IT” in capitol letters) until that afternoon when I got home from work. When I had made 'the offer' I had been dead serious, but to avoid cold feet, second-guessing or all out terror, I had done what I always did: I have a great knack for pushing stuff to the back burner of my mind, it simmers and heats and I know I’ll have to get to whatever it is, but I can keep any real considering pretty much away until I am smacked with the thing about to happen.
I was smacked with it at a quarter to six when Ken called to say he was on his way over.
I had threatened...what exactly I had threatened? I could just throw the shirt at him, answer the door dressed normally and not speak another word of it. But God knew I was intrigued about what my/Ken’s reaction would be if I did answer the door dressed like Donny had found me: in my light blue T-shirt, barely covering my bottom, no bra, no panties and my hair a mess. What would Ken do, really? I mean the kids were out of the house and God knew when Steven was coming home and I’d doubt he’d notice or care that I was entertaining company in nothing more then a T-shirt.
For my ego, for my libido, for many reasons I dared not address, I really was as curious right then as I had been the night before. I knew I was safe; shit, I could answer the door naked and Ken wouldn’t make a move until I told him he could. He was a pervert, but I also knew he loved and respected me.
The walk up Alexia's gravel driveway was the longest walk of my life. The tape nearly sweated out of my hand, every ‘crunch-crunch’ jabbed into my racing mind as the low brown ranch house rose before me. Was my friend on the other side of that big oak door, dressed only in her T-shirt? Was Alexia really going to go through with this? Had she simply forgotten? Could this all actually happen?
Jesus, I felt like a man obsessed here.
Ok, get a grip, I screamed in my head. Who are we kidding here? This was Alexia. We had only been flirting. She wouldn’t do anything sexual where I was concerned.
But maybe…
I breathed in deeply, as I heard the latch on the front door open.
I stood out of his sight on the other side of the door. I wanted to prolong Ken seeing me as long as I could.
“Hi?” I said to the open door.
“Hi,” I said to the back of the door as I heard Ken enter.
“Hiding?” I teased as I stepped across the threshold, and turned to face the stairs in front of me.
Alexia pushed the door closed behind me.
I turned.
It felt like an hour passed as Ken just stood there staring down at me.
“Hi,” Alexia said as if she had just jumped out from behind the door.
“Jesus,” I gulped. My best friend stood across from me in a light blue, thinner-than-thin shirt and absolutely nothing else.
Silk Shirt by Ed Hicks available at Obsession Art
"Thanks for bringing this,” I said, grabbed the video out of his hand and walked past the statue of Ken and into my living room.
I knew he’d have no choice but to stare at my ass as I passed him. I really had no plan here, but having him see the curve of my little butt through the t-shirt was a good place to start. If I was going to go through with this, might as well give him as much sway and swivel as I could manage, I thought.
“Want something to drink?”
“Yeah…” Ken followed me and I retreated on bare feet around the wall to the kitchen.
God-damn, what the hell was that!? Was I dreaming? I didn’t sit (not that I could have just then). Alexia was in her t-shirt! Alexia was in her t-shirt!
Was I supposed to follow her into the kitchen? Was she coming back out dressed this time? Was she going to allow me just that little peak? Had she done what she promised, technically answering the door in her shirt and now it was all over?
Jesus Christ dude, what the hell was happening here?!
I knew we could both use a few minutes.
I took my time clinking ice into two glasses, bent toward the refrigerator and to the pitcher inside it (if Ken had followed me into the kitchen, he would have definitely seen an eyeful then), filled two glasses and returned the pitcher, closed the door, stood up and breathed deep.
I looked down to see my little nipples poking out. God knew they never got like this, or at least I hadn’t had reason to feel like this in a long, long time. On any normal occasion, I would have been embarrassed showing like this, but this was definitely not the time to be embarrassed…nor could I cover up right then.
Shit, she hadn’t dressed.
She knew I couldn’t take my eyes from her and it was all I could do to keep them in my head when Alexia returned to the room.
“Thanks,” I said, as she handed me a glass of iced-tea and then sat down on the couch under me.
Jesus Christ, Alexa’s nipples were poking right out at me!
I had to be very careful here, the shirt rode the rest of the way up my thighs and I had to demurely shift and readjust not to expose my lower half. To avoid the obvious, I patted the cushion next to me and as Ken slowly sat I settled myself. Pulling my shirt like this, my boobs were really sitting way up high then, my little erect nipples the least of my worries right then.
"So, how’s your schedule look after this year?” Alexia started, as I tried my damnedest to look anywhere but down at her thighs… her tits…her thighs…her tits...her…
“Gonna be a long summer,” I offered, happy that we were on a subject to keep my mind off her too-close-for-comfort body.
“Long, hmmm?” I purred and again the words were out of my mouth as if someone was using me as a ventriloquist’s dummy.
I guess with Ken trying not to look directly at me I felt I wanted to tease him even more. He gulped at his iced-tea as I shifted again (I really had no choice, as I felt the shirt crawling up my right hip). This time when I moved I definitely caught Ken looking longingly at my breasts, and I felt a small victory.
It was strange, but I really didn’t mind being exposed like this. The most Ken had ever seen of my body had been through a very modest bathing suit (very modest at that) and other then the last time with Steven (and that last time had been a very long ago) I hadn’t been this un-clothed in front of a man for a long time.
I really felt okay; a little aroused to be sure, but totally safe.
"Yeah, very long,” I agreed, putting the iced-tea on the table to my right and turning fully to Alexia.
I took my time surveying her body then. What the hell, I thought, she wants me to look so I’m gonna look.
She sipped, as I ran my eyes fully across her pale high cheekbones, down her tight little neck, where it fed into the scooped neck of the shirt, down across her full separated tits, her hard nipples poking out, then to her lap and her legs scooted underneath her ass…the side of which I could just see peeking out of the bottom of her shirt. A whisper more and Alexia’s sex would have been exposed to me, all she had had to do was move a millimeter of an inch across those green cushions.
I took my time with my look, not hiding my pleasure or where my eyes settled. Repeating my loving stare, I ran my eyes down her body a second time, as if daring Alexia to comment. She just watched me over the lip of her frosty glass.
So, this was the way we would play it? We weren’t going to talk about the obvious, but Ken could look all he wanted? That was fine, I thought, but I damn well was going to tease the hell out of him for it.
“When do you go back this week?” Alexia asked, standing straight up from the couch. She bent to place her iced-tea on the floor, then just as quickly settled back down, jutting her thighs out so they draped across my lap as she sat.
She had moved in so quick, a ‘flicker-shuck’ that I barely saw her in my surprise. I did manage to spy most of her heaving tits when she wiggled her way off the couch and Alexia’s shirt rode well up her legs to expose just a quick second of the lower half of her little ass when she bent with the iced-tea; now I knew for sure she wasn’t wearing panties. But she settled down on the couch quickly again, one hand in her lap, pulling the shirt across her crotch, laying face up, her other hand reaching for and then holding the iced-tea glass easily as if she hadn’t just nearly exposed herself.
Jesus, I thought, I got to pay attention.
“Friday,” Ken said. “I have classes Tuesday, today and Fridays.”
He was doing a great job of keeping cool. I knew he had seen plenty when I stood up, I had literally turned my ass in his face and he could almost see all of me as I lay there. Pulling the shirt down into my crotch, it fit so tight across me now, pulling my breasts together so the light material rippled a hammock across my cleavage. I simply peddled my bare feet on the other side of Ken’s thick thighs and waited for his eyes to settle down me again.
It was like a maddening game trying to figure out where he would look next. My thighs were exposed all the way up my hip as I attempted not to move a muscle.
“It’ll be cool,” I said. “More money than last summer, that’s for sure, and the kids seem to really want to learn how to play.”
I looked up at Alexia again, this time staring at her little toes since they were closest to me, then up her thighs pulling that shirt over her crotch, up her belly, across her popping tits and finally to her smiling pretty green eyes. Sure, we weren’t addressing it, but I was more or less (a lot more then less), eating her with my eyes. She had worn the almost-translucent t-shirt, and there was no way I wasn’t going to get as good an eyeful as I could.
Was I thinking about doing something more then just staring? Was I considering her close proximity and how I could have easily jumped her right then and there? God, how ‘bout her high clean smell? She had dressed like this for me and was no doubt teasing me (and enjoying it). Did my good buddy want me to do more then just stare at her? I damn well was, but somehow, for reasons I could never have articulated, this moment, this aching tease was all the better because I knew, for both Alexia and I, that neither of us would do more…that maybe neither of us wanted more.
In the simplest terms, I did want more, a lot more. I had no idea how turned-on Alexia was, but if her diamond point nipples were an indication of something beyond how well the central air worked, if she could get past the same fear I was feeling, I knew we could have probably begun rolling around right then. But I sensed if we ripped apart the veneer of trust and hunger we had always felt for one another (okay, maybe I just felt the hunger), if we attempted to really ‘touch’ then, our friendship would never be the same.
Better, maybe. Worse, who knew? Either way: different.
For some reason, my mind began racing across the very few men I had been sexual with in my forty-six years. Some gentle, some fast, others perfect. Steven and I had been perfect once, but passion is the first to die in a marriage where respect is in constant question. I knew Ken would be perfect too; he loved me truly, was a considerate guy and had a good sense of humor about what I knew had to have been many sexual experiences. But there was a filament of understanding passing across this charged moment now, an understanding that had always passed across our flirting. Neither he nor I could have spoken about it, but even with me that close and dressed as I was, I knew in my heart that nothing was going to happen.
It was a damn shame in one aspect. God knew I could have used the intimacy, it had been too long since a man lay down with me, that I felt the pumping heat of a guy angling for position; put simply, too long since I felt lips suckling my breasts, hands kneading my ass, a penis entering me. But this was better in the long run…or at least I’d keep telling myself that. Having mustered the courage to dress like this, teasing in the safety of my best friend’s attentions, I was feeling more alive, more feminine than if Ken had touched me. Really, this was an intimacy that was so freeing I felt I could do anything.
“Okay, well…” Alexia said, again jumping up off the couch. This time I caught all of her little scooped buns with the speckle of freckles as she rolled off the cushions to stand with her back to me.
“You know I love you, right?” she blurted. She turned to me and then bent to kiss my cheek.
“And I you,” I said looking up at Alexia while I sat up straighter.
“Good,” she said, and then stood tall to peel the shirt up over her head.
I didn’t expect him to say anything, but Ken’s big brown eyes popping out of his head was a nice compliment.
“Sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”
I really did love this guy. I was so tickled that I could be like this with him, around him, feel this unconditional warmth flowing from this man under me. I wanted, needed, ached to be naked right then for Ken, for me. I wanted to lay myself bare—as bare and open as I felt our friendship and love was.
But I also wanted, needed and ached (ached so much I was wet, to my surprise and delight) to be a woman to this man. To see the recognition of my ‘woman-ness’ in Ken’s eyes: a full, real round, warm woman, not a tease, not covered any longer. I knew Ken saw me as a woman, I knew he was attracted to me physically, but me stripping right then was more for me then for him actually. I need to feel his desire for me in a profoundly different way then I normally did. This was beyond sexual, this was a kind of intimacy I had never felt and I wanted to strip all the layers away and have him see me, really see me.
Besides that, I was really, fucking wet.
Alexia was then, as I had always dreamed her, naked before me. As if a century in the making, this was the moment I had fantasized so much about.
I ate my best friend with my eyes: her tight, strong belly, but not cut like an aerobic queens’; pale big breasts with the little hard nipples, a slight natural sloop to the whole shelf, but ridiculously firm for a woman her age (or any age); her thin hips flanking a trimmed, brown-haired triangle; a swatch of freckles on her shoulders; more defined muscles than I would have imagined where that ‘Y’ of her upper inner thighs met her sex; wide hips for her size but high on her as if from her pelvis this was why Alexia’s posture was typically so ramrod straight.
It’s funny, the things I was noticing, given this opportunity now. And funny how Alexia didn’t move, didn’t say anything, didn’t seem to expect me to say anything. I just looked her up and down and she stood there for my inspection, a wide smile on her face. Not one of teasing or scolding or even slight ‘get-on-with-it’ exhaustion. We stayed where we were and I finally lighted my eyes on hers hard and stood.
“You look really good.”
“Well thank you, kind sir,” I replied and Ken and I hugged.
If either of us could have taken a step closer, I knew. But Ken and I held our ground, clutched to each other. I sniffed in Ken’s deep woody cologne as I hoped he did my after-bath spray and then we released.
Alexia released from me, stood on tiptoe to kiss my cheek then turned and walked out of the room.
I caught the last few fleeting seconds of her scooped fleshy little ass retreating round her living room wall and blessed these fleeting moments I had been allowed to bask in her, see her, hold her…know her like I have never known her before.
“What can I say?” Ken asked as we sat on the couch five minutes later.
I was dressed in jeans and that same t-shirt, but with a bra now and my hair pushed back in a tiny ponytail.
“You don't have to say anything,” I said.
“Can I compliment you again?’ he asked.
“Uh…yeah,” I said, and we both laughed. “That you can do any time.”
Alexia and I hugged, sitting there on her couch, close, deep and metering one another’s breathing. We hugged for all the words not said, the feelings we shared and the opportunity we hadn’t acted on. I held on to the thin back of my friend, a tiny kernel of pride glowing in my chest as I realized I had reaffirmed my faith in myself. And I ached at the same time, not for what I hadn’t received, but for what I had.
For dear life, I clutched to Ken’s broad back, this time sitting in deep on the couch I really let myself go in the embrace. Running my hands up his shoulder blades to play with his soft long hair, I felt tears come to my eyes as I held him, as I felt him hold me, as I remembered what it was really like to feel the touch of a man, a man who cared so deeply for me. A man, who had been denied, but wasn’t enraged, if anything, he loved me all the more.
And I ached at the same time, not for what I didn’t have, but for what I did.
Originally Published April 2010