To all appearances, she was the "good girl," the purest of the pure.
Charmaine was the one who didn't drink or smoke or do any drugs. Her idea of a wild night was overdosing on orange soda. She was teasingly called the only girl who could get drunk on orange soda. If I had been asked which of my female friends was certain not to have sex before marriage, it would be Charmaine. She wasn't "that kind of girl." Everyone saw her that way. Only a few knew anything else.
She was also the hottest woman any of us knew. Charmaine was a beautiful Italian girl. She was the girl everyone wanted: friendly, fun, busty, sassy, a little bit flirty, and seemingly pure and unavailable. She was a woman who knew what she wanted. Behind her back, every guy she knew talked about how much they wanted to get her in bed. Including me. But I was one who bought into her image. Until that one night.
Our families knew each other. We weren't close, but we were friendly. Our families had been involved in political activities together and some other activities. Until we had grown up.
We found ourselves working closely together in the same organization, so I had occasion to call her once in a while. We became quite good friends. but had never developed a romantic interest.
Charmaine and I were working together planning an event. We had been working pretty closely for a while. It was hard for me to work this closely with her and hide my interest. I think she had caught me smiling at her.
"I need a break," Charmaine said. "Let's get something to eat."
"I'm available," I said jokingly. Charmaine wasn't the type to take me up on it, but she would laugh at an off-color joke. She just smiled and blushed.
We turned the corner and found a little place. We ate and talked. Charmaine seemed a little flirtatious. She was laughing a lot. As we were talking, I felt her foot under the table rubbing against mine.
"Charmaine!" I said with a hint of a smile.
"What?" she responded, feigning innocence. She smiled knowingly.
"I know you like to flirt and you like off-color jokes, but that seems a bit forward, don't you think?"
Charmaine smiled. Her foot rubbed against mine again. "Maybe," she said, smiling.
"Good thing I know you're not that kind, right?" Charmaine just chuckled.
"I guess," she said, sounding almost disappointed. She nibbled a pickle. She moved it in and out of her mouth as she chomped on it.
"Walk me home?" she said. There was just a little purr in her voice. "We'll work a little more there."
"OK," I said. "But just so you know, I'm finding it hard to work with you today, and I think being at your house might make it harder. I find you very distracting."
Charmaine smiled. "Like every guy I know," she said.
"Pretty much," I replied. Charmaine laughed.
We arrived at Charmaine's house. She unlocked the door. "Come on in," she said.
We sat down. I sat at some distance from Charmaine; we were supposed to be working. Besides, it gave me a better view of her rack. And quite a rack it was!