The Bedtime Tales of Be287m

Friends and Benefits, Chapter Six

I wasn’t as nervous as I’d expected when I went to pick the poster up. To ask Tina out, really. Maybe it was the fact that we’d already talked more than once. Maybe it was the fact that even if she said no, there was a chance of something happening with Sharon over Christmas break. I knew rejection wouldn’t sting as much as a result.

Tina brightened when I walked in the door.

“Hey!” she called.

“Hey, yourself!”

“It’s finished and it looks great!” Tina bent down, pulled the poster out and put it on the top of the counter. Matted, framed, and under glass, it looked more like art than advertisement.

“Wow, it does,” I remarked. “Looking at it like this, it’s hard to imagine it in a movie display case somewhere.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s that hard,” Tina said. “I just can’t imagine stopping to look at it as I was walking by. Unless it was displayed like this.” I nodded. Then I realized this was the opening to ask her out.

“So, do you go to movies often?” I asked, trying to not let the tightness in my chest appear in my voice.

“Oh, I love movies! I go all the time!”

“Well, would you be interested in going to one with me?” I was still studying the poster as I asked. I knew I should look at her, but I couldn’t turn my head.

“Sure!”

My neck discovered the amazing ability to swivel. I glanced over and Tina was smiling. I smiled back.

“Great,” I said. “How about if we exchange phone numbers and I’ll call you after checking what’s playing?”

“That’d be fine,” Tina answered. She got a piece of paper and tore it in half. I watched her very neatly written numerals appear on her half. Then she loaned me the paper and I put my own digits on the other. Looking up, we just kind of grinned at each other.

“Well, I’ll call you tonight,” I said. Tina agreed and we said goodbye. I floated back to my apartment, using the poster as ballast the entire way.

Of course, I wanted to call Sharon immediately to tell her the good news. Then I realized she’d ask a bunch of questions I couldn’t answer until I talked to Tina.

Instead, I hiked over to the corner gas station and got a newspaper. Reviewing the options, I realized that Tucson was not going to be a threat to Sundance or Toronto or Cannes anytime soon. There was only one theatre anywhere near the University that showed indie films and I didn’t recognize the titles at all. None of the mainstream movies seemed particularly compelling either. If Tina was a film snob instead of just a film fan, I was in trouble.

I wasn’t. When I called Tina that night, I suggested Hook.

“With Dustin Hoffman and Robin Williams?” she asked. “That could be good.”

“There’s not a lot of a choice out there,” I admitted. “Must be too early for the Oscar releases.”

“That’s okay,” she replied. “It’ll be fun!” I hoped so.

We made arrangements for me to pick her up at her dorm that coming Saturday. She suggested we catch the five o’clock show, since it would be less crowded. I quickly agreed and offered to take her out to dinner afterward.

“Sure,” Tina replied.

“Anything you don’t eat?” I asked.

“I’m not a big fan of Mexican,” she replied. I avoided groaning out loud.

“How about the Bluebird Café?”

“That’s pretty good,” Tina answered. “Particularly for brunch.” That gave me a possible idea for the future, but it was too soon to say anything.

“Great! Then we’ve got a plan!”

“Looking forward to it!”

We said our goodbyes and hung up. I promptly redialed the phone for Sharon. I got her machine.

“I have a date, Saturday,” I said. “Dinner and a movie. Talk to you about it later.”

Sharon didn’t call back that night. I finally gave up waiting after The Tonight Show monologue and went to bed.

The next night the phone rang just as I was cleaning up from dinner.

“Hey!” I said, recognizing Sharon’s voice. “I missed you last night.”

She loudly sighed. “I had a date. It sucked.”

“Huh? Why?”

“It was a geeky guy from one of my classes. It took him all semester to work up the nerve to ask me to dinner. Then he barely said a word the entire meal. I had to keep asking him questions to draw him out. Then after dinner, he didn’t have any ideas on what to do next. So I told him we should go walking on the Pearl Street Mall. That was actually okay until we ran into a panhandler. He couldn’t get away from the guy fast enough.”

“He was afraid of a homeless guy?”

“Afraid, or disgusted, or something. After we’d walked the length of the Mall and back, I told him to take me home. I didn’t notice the message light when I got in. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“Okay. But your turn. You have a date?”

“Yeah! The girl from the poster shop, her name’s Tina, agreed to go out with me. Since she’s a big movie buff, I figured I’d take her to a movie. We’re going out to dinner afterwards.”

“Dinner that late?”

“Movie that early. We’re going to the five p.m. show at her suggestion.”

“Cheaper?”

“Not as crowded.”

“Makes sense,” Sharon replied. “Well, congratulations. I hope it goes well and you’ll have to tell me all about it.”

“Thanks. And I will.”

Sharon said she had a paper to write, so we kept the rest of the call short. I had plenty of my own homework to do as well. Saturday would arrive soon enough.

And soon enough it did. Tina was dressed in slacks and a conservative blouse when she came down to the dorm lobby. More importantly, she seemed excited and not as nervous as I felt. We made it to the movie without incident and found good seats about a third of the way back. Tina said she liked to have the screen fill her vision completely, but also didn’t want the neck ache of being too close. We didn’t talk much before the house lights dimmed and the previews started.

“So what did you think?” I asked as we walked out of the movie.

“It was okay, but I was mildly disappointed. It could have been a lot better. I didn’t think they used Dustin Hoffman very well.”

“Yeah, I agree. He seemed overpowered by the costume.”

We continued to discuss the movie on the rather short drive to the Bluebird Café. I didn’t notice anything that was clearly “brunch food” on the menu, but decided not to comment on that. Better to note what was here and compare if I ever came back some morning. When I set the menu down, Tina was patiently waiting for me, already having made her selection.

“So,” I said, starting the conversation. “You said you go to the movies all the time. How often is ‘all the time’?”

“Oh, now about every other week. When I was in high school, I used to go every weekend if I could. It was one of the few places I could escape.”

“Escape? From what?”

“My family,” she replied. I frowned.

“Oh--it’s not what you think!” she continued. “I grew up in a small house and I have five younger brothers and sisters. It got loud and crazy. The movies were one of the few places I could go without bringing one of my siblings along.”

“Why just the movies? Why not the mall or, oh, I don’t know . . .”

“I have an overprotective dad,” she admitted, puckering her lip. “I almost always went to the movies with a group of girlfriends. No boys.” Her tone conveyed how often she must have heard those words.

“Must have been hell to go on dates,” I commented.

Tina nodded. “I had to bring my little brother along.”

“A chaperone? You’re kidding.” This time Tina shook her head.

“We’re good conservative Catholics, or at least Dad is. He believed that if it was good enough for his generation, it was good enough for mine.”

“Must have sucked for your boyfriends.”

“I didn’t have boyfriends,” she said. “After the first couple of times I was allowed to go out on a date, word got around about my little brother having to tag along. Guys stopped asking me out.”

“Ouch.”

“You have no idea. To be so interested in . . .” Tina stopped just before the next word could tumble free. I watched her struggle for a moment before I decided to her off the hook.

“. . . and you couldn’t do anything because of your dad.”

“Right!” she exclaimed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad. I just wish he’d given me more freedom! That’s why I’m working in the poster shop—I don’t want to have to live at home again.”

“Makes sense.”

“I . . .” Once again, Tina changed trains in mid-sentence. “This is too much information for a first date, isn’t it?” She looked embarrassed and avoided my eyes.

“Maybe for some guys,” I reassured her. “But not for me. I’m actually relieved that we’re not stuck on small talk.”

“I had a feeling about that. Any guy who likes sex, lies, and videotape probably likes to listen to more meaningful stuff,” she said.

“Well, yeah,” I admitted. “But I don’t videotape my conversations.” Tina chuckled at my lame joke.

“But you talk about sex?”

“Oh, absolutely! Why, do you want to talk about it?”

Tina laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Not yet,” she said.

“Darn!” I said, with an exaggerated snap of my fingers.

“So tell me about your family,” she suggested.

“It’s pretty boring, really,” I replied. Tina didn’t look bored, so I proceeded to tell her about growing up in suburban Denver. She managed to use some of my stories as springboards for her own stories. Our high school experiences were pretty similar except for the quirks introduced because of her father. My parents had been pretty lenient. Trusting was actually a better description than lenient. They expected me to behave maturely and make wise choices; though I knew they’d come down on me like a ton of bricks if I abused that trust.

“So did you?” Tina asked.

“Did I what?”

“Abuse their trust. Get naughty when you shouldn’t have,” she said. I blushed, remembering.

“Well, generally, no. There was this one time though . . .”

“Oh, this sounds good!”

“It is good, but . . . ah, heck, I’ll tell it,” I said. Tina sat back with a big grin.

“My parents used to let me bring my girlfriend to our house at the end of the date. We’d go down in the basement to ‘talk’ and they’d stay upstairs. There was always the possibility that they’d come downstairs at any moment, but we eventually figured out that they weren’t going to.”

“Mmmm. I’m envious.”

“So,” I continued, “one night we were doing . . . more than talking . . . when there was a loud crash. The cat had knocked over a vase. In the basement. Mom and Dad started to come downstairs to investigate while my girlfriend and I were diving for our clothes.”

“Oh, ho! Busted!”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “We managed to get our outer clothes on and neither Mom nor Dad said anything. It wasn’t until they went back upstairs that I realized my girlfriend’s bra was sticking out from behind the couch. I don’t know if they saw it or not.”

“They probably did,” Tina mused. Her eyes were twinkling. I took that as a good sign.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t imagine them not having said something to me later, and they didn’t. So I don’t know if we got away with it or not. We were a lot more careful after that.”

“I’ll bet!”

“Did you ever get away with anything?” I asked. “Or was Dad successful in keeping you safe?”

Tina thought for a moment, then gave a slight nod of her head before answering.

“There was one time when we ran into some guys from school at the movie theatre. It turns out that one of my girlfriends had told them which one we were going to. The theatre was pretty empty so we were joking around and throwing popcorn at each other and generally being kids before the movie started. We were having fun. I’d moved a couple of rows away, to dodge the popcorn, when the lights dimmed for the movie. So I stayed there.”

“And then?”

“Tim came over and sat next to me. I’d had a crush on Tim and apparently my girlfriend had told one of the guys, so Tim knew. The movie was pretty bad and, well, we ended up making out.” Tina didn’t quite blush, but seemed on the edge of it.

“Anything happen after that?”

“Well, Tim did ask me out. But then he met my father and . . .” She trailed off.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Well, enough about my dad. What’s your major?”

“It’s not really a major. I’m a grad student. I’m nominally in the Ph.D. program for astronomy.”

“Really? I knew you were older, but I figured you were still an undergrad.”

“Nope,” I replied. “I’m twenty-four.”

“Not quite ancient,” she teased.

“No, but sometimes I feel old.”

Tina snorted. “Better older and experienced than younger and over-eager.”

I didn’t quite know what to say to that without insulting her contemporaries. Tina sensed my hesitation and changed the subject.

“Well, I want to be a doctor too. But a medical doctor, not a Ph.D.”

“Really? Tell me about it.

Tina started talking about how she’d always been fascinated by biology and medicine. Then she started discussing how she was adjusting to classes in college instead of high school. That led to a conversation about some of my first year experiences. By the time it wound down, we’d already had dessert and the check was waiting near my elbow.

“I’m enjoying this,” I said. “How about we go for a walk?”

“Sure! Where?”

I grimaced. “I don’t think walking up and down Campbell would be a good idea and I’m not sure where the best nearby park would be. Campus isn’t too far.”

“Campus would be fine.”

I drove us back down Campbell and found a place to park not too far from her dorm. We got out and wandered through the older part of campus, though the palm trees and past Old Main. There was a fair amount of activity at the Student Center, but we stuck more to the shadowy areas. Tina asked how I’d become interested in astronomy. I talked about my dad and meteor showers and science fiction. She talked about movies and mystery novels. We wandered past the outdoor patio nooks at the library and past the stadium. Cutting back in front of the athletic department’s swimming pool, we stumbled upon some broad cement steps with a wall behind them. There were trees on either end of the wall. It looked like a small theater or risers except it faced an open expanse of grass instead of an obvious spot for an audience.

“What are these?” I wondered.

“I don’t know,” Tina replied. “We’ll have to check one of the campus maps.”

“It does seem to be a strange location,” I said, gazing around the grass. Tina skipped up the steps, all three of them. She turned at the top.

“Not much of a view from here,” she announced. Her words gave me a devilish idea. Something Allen would do. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said, strolling toward her. I stopped at the bottom of the steps. “The view looks pretty good from here.” I met her eyes, then flicked them up and down her body. Then I grinned. Tina smirked.

“Oh, does it?”

“Absolutely. It’s a great sight.”

“Hmmm. Well, maybe there is something to the view.” Tina eased down two steps, so that she was on the one just above me. It compensated for our height difference and we were eye to eye.

“Well, I’m seeing something absolutely beautiful,” I said. My pulse was racing and I couldn’t believe the words falling from my tongue.

“And what are you going to do about what you see?” Tina asked, her voice husky with innuendo.

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you suggest?”

“This.” Tina leaned in and kissed me. I encircled her in my arms and kissed her back. Our lips parted for a moment, pouring more passion into the kiss. Then Tina pulled back, breathless.

“Wow,” she said.

“Yeah, wow.” I pulled her in and began kissing her again. I tried to pull her closer, but ended up pulling her off of her step. She stumbled into me and knocked me back, but I caught us both before we fell. We started giggling. Then we heard clapping. There were a couple of guys standing on the sidewalk about a hundred yards away, who had apparently seen my save. Which meant they’d probably seen more. I could feel myself blushing as Tina kept giggling.

“Maybe we should go,” I suggested. Tina nodded in agreement.

We walked back to her dorm and I stole another long kiss goodnight. Somehow I made it home without killing anyone during the drive, as my mind was nowhere near the road. I fell asleep with the taste of Tina’s lips on mine.

* * *

“So taking a page from Allen’s book paid off,” Sherri observed.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Even now, two years later, I’m surprised that I did it. It’s not normal for me.”

“Normal can change.”

I snorted. “No kidding.”

“So what’s normal now?” Sherri asked.

“I have no idea,” I said, putting my head in my hands. I sighed.

“Ever think you fell down the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland?” I asked. Sherri gave a small nod with pursed lips, but didn’t say anything.

“I had that sensation after my next phone call with Sharon,” I said.

“Tell me about it.”

* * *

I called Sharon Sunday afternoon. She gave a small cheer when I told her the date went well, before asking for all the details. I spent several minutes giving her the blow-by-blow.

“And we even kissed!” I concluded.

“That’s great, Joe!”

“Yeah. I’ll call her tonight and see if she’s interested in a second date before I have to head back to Colorado.”

“Good idea. Speaking of you coming to Colorado—can I make a request for the night we get together?”

“Sure.”

“I’d like to go out to dinner someplace nice. Someplace that would justify getting dressed up.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Great. I’ll let you pick the place and make the arrangements.”

“Okay . . . is this Dutch?”

“Well . . . I was hoping you’d treat as part of my Christmas present. It’s just that dinner would be a good prelude to your Christmas present.”

“So,” I said, “this is a date.”

Sharon chuckled. “No, Joe. We’re just friends. This isn’t a date.”

That didn’t make sense. We were getting dressed up, going out for a fancy meal, I was paying, and we were doing something risqué or sexual after. And it wasn’t a date.

“Besides, you’re dating Tina,” Sharon continued. “You and I are just going to have some fun. Unless you’d rather not . . .”

“Uh, no,” I interjected. “We can have fun!”

“Good, because I think you’ll really like what I have planned.”

I just shook my head, which Sharon couldn’t see over the phone. The conversation turned to other topics for a while until the pauses became longer than the bursts of words.

“Well,” Sharon said, in that final tone of conversations ending, “I should go. Good luck with your next date!”

“You want me to get lucky on my second date?”

Sharon laughed. “You know what I mean! Have a good time.”

“Thanks.”

We said goodbye and I flopped on my bed. I still didn’t get it.

Sharon clearly wanted me to pursue a romantic relationship with Tina, yet she also didn’t seem to want to give up whatever plans she had with me. Well, maybe her surprise wasn’t that naughty. She could be laying the innuendo on thick, just as a tease. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that nothing was going to happen with Sharon.

Yeah, she liked getting my story packets, and she enjoyed the racy conversation, but we hadn’t done anything beyond that other than the modeling session. While she hadn’t had any second thoughts about that, she also had had a fair amount of wine before we’d started. Sharon was right. There was nothing going on between us other than a good friendship. While I didn’t particularly like knowing she didn’t find me appealing in a romantic way, I still had a chance of things happening with Tina.

I did call Tina that night. She was insanely busy with end of the semester projects and preparations for finals, but did want to see me. That was fine, I was studying pretty hard myself. We arranged a Friday night dinner date to try out a “new” Italian restaurant that neither of us was familiar with.

During the meal we mostly talked about Arizona. Tina hadn’t had much chance to explore Tucson yet, though she was looking forward to it. Her family had done the tourist sites when they’d brought her down to move into the dorm. Her younger siblings weren’t too impressed with the Desert Museum or Saguaro National Park, but then early teens probably didn’t recognize how impressive a forest of long-lived cactus really was.

Tina herself had grown up outside of the Phoenix metropolitan area, which I referred to as “L.A. without the beach.” She laughed and agreed, but said it was still pretty nice if you didn’t mind the heat. I did, saying I much preferred hunkering down through a blizzard than weeks of temperatures over one hundred degrees. We both chorused “but it’s a dry heat!” at the same time.

Tina asked about Colorado and I told her about living within a stone’s throw of the mountains outside of Denver. I’d grown up with them always filling the nearby horizon and Tucson was sometimes disorienting because the mountains weren’t to the usual west.

“Oh, I looked up those steps on a campus map,” Tina said, as the check arrived.

“Really? What are they?”

“They’re the Chi Omega steps. Apparently they were donated to the University by the sorority.”

“Huh. I wonder how often they get used,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure they get used occasionally. They’re perfect for a choral concert. Other than that . . . probably not much.”

“They were pretty deserted,” I observed. “If we’d been in the shadows, I doubt those guys walking by would have noticed.”

“We should go back there sometime,” Tina said.

“How about now?” I suggested. Tina beamed and nodded vigorously. I grabbed the check and glanced at it, threw an overly generous wad of cash and the table, and stood to leave. Tina and I held hands as we walked to the steps.

There were indeed some shadowed areas, along the sides near the trees. We faded into one, me quickly glancing around to see if we were being watched. Tina was already pulling my head down for a kiss.

We kissed almost continuously for some time—well over an hour. First standing, then sitting. Then sitting with Tina in my lap. Our lips only broke apart long enough to trail down the other’s neck, or up along the jaw. Tina gasped when I kissed behind her ear and then nuzzled her neck. She moaned while I gently rubbed the small of her back. She kissed me hard when I held her face with my hand.

“God, I’m wet,” Tina murmured an infinite time later.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied. She smirked, wide-eyed, and nodded. We kissed some more. Finally, with some obvious reluctance, Tina pulled back.

“I need to go, Joe. I’ve got a lot of studying to do tomorrow.”

“That’s okay. We’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”

“I hope so.”

“Call me when you get back to campus after the break, okay?” I asked.

“I will.”

We stole a few more kisses before pulling ourselves to our feet and walking back to Tina’s dorm. Then we stole a few more before I watched her walk up the stairs. She waved just before she hit the landing and was out of sight.

I spent a lot of the next morning and afternoon daydreaming about Tina. Eventually the realities of my own end of the semester kicked in and I forced myself to study. When I boarded the plane for Denver, I was pondering what might be in store when I got back.

However, landing at Denver reminded me I had other obligations. Whirlwind Christmas shopping. And preparing for my evening with Sharon.

When I picked Sharon up, she looked stunning. She’d pulled off a variant of “the little black dress” except it was a sleeveless blouse and tight skirt. The skirt ended just below her knee, highlighting her black clad legs. Of course, her high heels did that too. She caught me staring as I held her car door for her, but only chuckled.

I’d picked The Little Russian Café for dinner simply because I enjoyed their stroganoff so much. With the waiter’s urging, we each had shots of the flavored vodkas; a different shot with each course. Sharon had a couple more after dinner simply to try the flavors, so I was glad I was driving.

When we got back to Sharon’s apartment, I handed her my gift. She grinned and gave it a shake.

“Mmmm. Heavy. Solid. A book, perhaps?”

“Open it and see,” I suggested.

Sharon tore the paper and chuckled when she saw that it was indeed a book. Three books, actually.

“All erotic short stories?” she asked, grinning like a cat.

“You liked receiving the story packets. I figured you might like something with a bit higher quality.”

“Have you read any of these?” she asked.

“Not yet. Those just seemed to be the best in the bookstore.”

“Well, you’ll have to read me a story later.”

“Sure,” I replied, surprised at the suggestion.

Sharon handed me a box wrapped in red paper. It was heavy, but something rattled when I shook it. I ripped the paper off and opened the box to find a copy of Aztec, the novel Sharon had been reading in the fall, on top. Underneath was a book on basic photography and two rolls of film. And a folded note. I opened the note.

“Good for one modeling session.”

I looked up at Sharon. She was grinning. A small smile of appreciation crossed my own face.

“Wow,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“So when can I cash this?” I asked, holding up the note. Sharon tilted her head and smirked.

“I thought you might want to cash it tonight.”

“Before I’ve read the book?” I joked.

“Think of it as the ‘before’ pictures. We can do another session after you’ve read it.”

“Then by all means!”

Sharon laughed. “I’ll go get the camera.” While she was retrieving it, I moved a lamp so we’d have the plain wall backdrop like we had before. Sharon came back in a moment, camera in hand, still in her skirt and blouse. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Let’s start with this,” Sharon said, leaning against the wall, while I loaded the camera. She raised one leg and planted her foot against the wall. This thrust her knee and lower thigh out from under her skirt. Sharon reached down and grasped the hem, holding it as if she was going to pull on it. She flashed me a coy smile.

I caught the cue and snapped the first picture.

Sharon grinned and began sliding her skirt up, past lace edging to reveal pale skin. A black strap snaked down to fasten at the stocking top. I looked up and met Sharon’s dancing eyes.

“You bought a garter belt,” I mused.

“Well of course,” she teased.

I returned my eye to the viewfinder and took the picture. We tried a few more poses with Sharon flashing her stocking tops. I was doing a better job of noticing when the pose was wrong and telling Sharon how to shift to fix it. I hoped it would make a difference in the prints.

After a couple more shots with Sharon sitting on a chair, again flashing her legs, she stood and began fumbling with the button on her skirt.

“I think it’s time to lose this,” she said, letting it drop to the floor. The tails of her blouse still covered most of her upper thighs, but gave maddening flashes as she moved. I captured some of those glimpses before Sharon started undoing her blouse buttons. She tossed the blouse aside before I had a chance to snap the picture.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “It might be a great picture with the blouse on.”

“Good idea.” Sharon retrieved her blouse and put it back on, holding it so that it gaped open. She planted her feet firmly apart and tilted her head, letting her hair cascade forward over her shoulder. She looked up at the camera, eyes smoldering.

“Perfect,” I said. I started snapping pictures as Sharon slowly parted the blouse, then turned around, sliding it off her shoulders before discarding it entirely.

Sharon’s lace black bra and panties matched the garter belt, of course. She leaned back against the wall, duplicating her earlier pose in the skirt and blouse. I made a couple of suggestions about how to hold her arms and the first roll of film ended in the middle of that set. She pulled the chair over while I reloaded the camera. I glanced up and paused, solely in admiration.

“Really nice lingerie,” I said. “It looks really good on you.”

“Thanks! You did say that every woman should own a garter belt.”

“I did?”

Sharon nodded. “Last fall, when I wrote you that story.”

“Oh,” I replied. “Well, it seems I was certainly glad I made the comment then. I’m glad you bought this for me.”

“Oh, I didn’t buy it for you, Joe,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “I bought it for me. Allen had said he wanted to see me in a garter belt once, and when you made your comment, I figured, why not?”

“Ah, but I get to see you wearing it.”

“That’s your Christmas present.”

“It’s a great present,” I replied as I snapped the camera closed. “Ready for more?”

Sharon remained sitting, turning her legs to highlight the garter straps. Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot of unique poses and I kept getting flummoxed by where to have her put her arms. I didn’t want them across her middle, hiding her smooth stomach, but higher tended to block her breasts and hanging the side looked dumb more often than not.

“Maybe some more standing,” I suggested.

“Sure, how about this?” Sharon stood a little way back from the wall, facing it. She spread her stance and put her hands on the wall. It looked like she was waiting to be frisked. Not that there was any place to hide anything.

“Lingerie models in prison, next on Cinemax,” I joked. Sharon laughed.

“Hopefully not anytime soon.”

“How about standing straight, looking back over your shoulder?” I suggested. Sharon did so and her hands settled onto her hips. She tried a smoldering gaze. I didn’t think it worked with the Wonder Woman body pose, but I took the shot anyway. Then I paused.

“We need to do something different with your hands. More sexy. What if . . . what if you were to reach up, as if you were about to unhook your bra?”

“It’s a little awkward, but okay.”

Sharon brought her hands up, which created sharp lines down her forearms and elbows. It took a couple of adjustments for her to get a comfortable pose. Then the smoldering gaze was back. I got two photos before she dropped her arms.

“That was hot,” I said.

“I hope it comes out then,” Sharon replied.

“What next?” I asked, and then paused. Sharon didn’t immediately say anything so I continued. “Would you be willing to go the next step and actually unhook the bra?”

“I have a better idea,” Sharon answered. “Be right back.” With that, she strode down the hall to her room.

When she returned, she was holding a medium sized stuffed bear in front of her. Hugging it close, it hid all but the curves of the sides of her breasts and the top of her cleavage. Which was necessary because the bra was gone.

“Where did you get the bear?” I asked as Sharon moved back into our ‘studio.’

“Allen gave it to me when we were dating.”

“Oh. Well. Smile!”

Sharon did and the result was delightful. With her head tilted, she looked like an innocent little girl--until you saw that all she was wearing was stockings, heels, panties and a garter belt. She definitely didn’t have the body of a little girl. As I snapped away, her facial expressions changed from innocent to mischievous to naughty. I had her turn around and got some shots of her bare back, the pale skin framed by her hair and the black lingerie. She shot smiles both wanton and sweet over her shoulder. I happily clicked away until the camera stalled.

“That’s the end of the second roll,” I called.

“Okay. Be right back.”

I unloaded the film while Sharon headed to her bedroom once again. When she returned, she was wearing an oversized CU sweatshirt. She’d taken off the stockings and was nude from the bottom of the sweatshirt down. She sat on the couch and grabbed a small throw blanket and threw it over her legs, pulling it up above her waist.

I sank into the chair across from her. I’d expected the evening to end with the film, but apparently Sharon was still ready to go.

“So read me a story,” she said, with a nod of her head toward the books I’d given her.

“Sure.”

I picked up the top book and thumbed through it, eventually checking the table of contents. The title “The Fifty-Minute Hour: Between the Minutes . . .” caught my eye. I found the page and began to read.

I tried to sneak glances at Sharon as I read. It was difficult to do without losing my place. She had leaned back against one arm of the couch, propping herself up on one elbow, with her other hand tucked under the blanket in her lap. She was smiling dreamily.

I kept reading aloud, trying to be smoother and catch the mood more and more. I had to immerse myself in the page, but I liked the way the words sounded to my own ears as they left my lips. I finished the story and, without glancing up, dove straight into the next one.

About halfway through that story, a small gasp caught my attention. I glanced up, and then froze. Sharon’s eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow. One hand was still under the blanket. She let out another small gasp and her head jerked forward. I buried my head back in the book, immediately found my place, and continued reading.

When I got to the end of the story, I put the book down. Sharon had a lazy grin, and was idly twisting strands of hair.

“Pretty good story, Joe,” she drawled.

“Glad you liked it,” I said. “And thank you for my Christmas present. I liked it a lot too.”

“Good. I told you we’d have fun.”

“You certainly did.”

Sharon pushed the blanket aside and stood up. I got the hint and gathered my things before she walked me to the door. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a long hug. I held her, aware that she was almost completely naked, but that I wasn’t getting overly excited by that fact. Given everything that had happened, I was remarkably calm.

--Fin--

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Read the next chapter in this story: Chapter Seven

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