I imagined... I assumed, actually... that we would start right away. Right there in the kitchen amongst the iced duckies and chicks. Maybe she would slap a cage on me and tell me I had to, I dunno, call her mistress and never cum again. Or she would spank me. Cause I would hate that. I think? But whatever I assumed or thought or, I dunno, hoped for, it wasn't like that. Not at all.
No. Following our big... confrontation? I guess? We cleaned up the icing and the baking trays together and she talked about anything, everything else. I was a bit shaky and she kept putting a hand on me. Not to tease or titillate. But to steady me. You know, on my arm. Or on my shoulder. She ordered pizza from that new place on 5th and got us a couple beers and we watched some dumb cooking show together. And I slowly calmed down. My heart beat steadying to normal. My head no longer spinning.
And then... then she said goodnight. Out the door, into the night. And I didn't see her for a week.
We normally met up on Fridays if one of us didn't have a date. And I was impatient for the week to end and see what, if anything, would happen.
She called me at lunch on Friday to say that she had an after work drinks thing, but she expected me to be waiting at her place when she was done. Expected. I started to object but then thought better of it. "I... I'll be there," I said.
"Good boy," was all she answered. Heat flushed up my face and I could barely concentrate the rest of the day.
At 2:00 I thought I shouldn't go. By 4:00 I was sure of it. "This is ridiculous, it's a terrible idea, it's not even my kind of thing," I told myself in the mirror of the bathroom on the second floor - the one no one else uses.
At 6:00 I was at her door, the key from under the pot in hand, but not putting it in the lock. "This is dumb," I told the neighbor's cat. "I should go home. It won't end well. I'm an idiot." I felt my neck for my own elevated pulse and then looked around for an escape route. The stairs were right there, but I just stood there, suspended in indecision.
"You could have gone in," said a voice in my ear. I startled so hard I scared off the cat. "Put the key away and come in."
I'll be honest, it was easier to just do what I was told then to make a decision. And that's how I found myself in her entry way, awkwardly peeling off my shoes and socks.
She gave me a hug. A warm hug. A normal hug. But it didn't relax me. I was scanning for exits. Fight or flight. She snorted at me.
"What are you even looking for, dude? she asked. "It's the same place it always was."
"I just... I thought... " I trailed off.
"What!?" she asked.
"I just thought you might have a... you know... a cock cage." I barely got out the last in a whisper. I was thoroughly embarrassed.
She just laughed. But the way she looked at me was appraising.
"Not today," she said. "It's not your kind of thing... yet."
I tried to steady myself with a breath out that was half a sigh of relief. Probably.
"Ok. So then, do I... what do I..."
She put a finger to my lips. "Shhhh."
"You're allowed to talk. If I need you not to talk, I'll gag you," she said quietly. "But it'll work much better if you try not to talk unless you really need to. Better if you listen."
I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes on her as best I could. Her finger trailed off my lips and down across my shoulder and back as she circled.
"Before we start properly," she said, "we need a word. Some way for you to tell me you need to pause. Something you wouldn't normally say otherwise."
"I love you?" I quipped.
That got a laugh. "Yeah, fair," she said. "But I was thinking more like 'baseball' or 'firetruck'."
"Yeah. Ok. Firetruck will work."
"Good," she said. "Any time you want to stop. For a while. For good. Just say 'firetruck'."
And that was it. We had a safeword. I had a safeword. Which meant there was something to be safe *from*. I don't know how I got here. But here I was. Standing in her entryway in bare feet, no idea where to put my eyes.
"Can I... may I ask a question?" I asked her.
She inclined her head in what I took to be assent.
"Will we... uhm... are we gonna have... you know... sex?" I asked.
She held my eye with hers, till I was squirming.
"Do you want to have sex?" she asked.
"Honestly. I have no idea. I'm so far out of my depth here. I haven't got a clue what I want."
"If you mean, are you going to get to put your penis inside me? No. We aren't going to have sex. Anything else... well... we'll see. It depends on how good of a boy you're prepared to be for me," she responded, never taking her eyes off my face.
I was relieved. And disappointed. And just as confused as before I asked. She was probably right. I should talk less and listen more.
"Okay," was all I said.
"Good," she answered as if something was settled. But I had no idea what that could be.
She told me to undress then. "Everything off. If you have a ring on, I want it off. Every time you come in here unless I tell you otherwise. Understand?"
I nodded my head. But my hands shook as I unbuttoned my shirt. And I pushed my jeans down so slowly, I wondered if she'd lose patience with me. But she didn't. She just watched as I caught up my boxers and pulled them down and off and stood completely naked in front of my fully dressed best friend. It was humiliating. And shocking. And incredibly arousing.
My stiffening cock told my secret for me, earning me a smirk and raised eyebrow. I couldn't look her in the eye.
"Eyes up. Right here," she snapped.
I brought my eyes up to hers.
"Good," she said. "You're incredibly sexy when you listen. When you try to be good for me."
I swallowed hard and my cock, if anything, got even harder. But I kept my eyes on hers and I could see the approval shining out.
She walked around me. Once. Twice. And I turned my head each time to try to keep my eyes on her. She hummed as she walked. Little sounds of approval or consideration or I don't know what.
Then she laid one finger on my exposed rib cage. I'll admit I flinched. But I kept my eyes on hers. Just like I was told.
"Good boy," she smirked.
She used just the tips of her fingers to run up my side, over my shoulder. The sparks of her touch danced along my bare skin. To be naked with someone else is exposing. Vulnerable. But to be naked in front of a fully dressed person. A person you know. A person you've spent years being dressed around. It's confusing, mortifying, electrifying. It's heady and destabilizing. And I was fully off balance.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
It had been years since I'd thought about her as a potential romantic partner, but I found myself nodding.
"Am I beautiful?" she wanted to know.