"It's not fair," Audrey muttered as she unbuttoned her blouse.
I tried not to laugh as I continued moving things around my bedroom to give myself the most access. I stripped the pillows off the bed and moved a chair and a folding table next to it. I put a tray with cold glasses of water and snacks on the table. The whole thing was going to take a glorious while.
"It is exactly fair. We made a bet, you lost that bet. I even gave you an out, but you said you don't break your word. Are you backing out?"
"God, Tom, I'm not backing out!" she said, thoroughly offended.
"I said I would do it and I will. But two hours seems excessive!" she said, taking off her blouse and standing up to unzip the side of her skirt.
The skirt slipped off and she stood in front of me in bra and panties. She stopped talking and her eyes dodged mine.
She wasn't a particularly fancy dresser, but she always looked quite put together. There was also a way she had of dressing to hide her curves. She had big tits and a round ass and deliciously thick thighs, not to mention a wonderfully soft belly. In a matching light purple bra and panty set, there were no sweaters or scarves to hide all of that smooth and pretty skin.
She was already blushing, which was making me hard.
"Well, we will have to see. It may not take two hours, but that was the wager and so if I want to take the full time, I will," I said as I paced in front of her slowly.
"Anyhow, you know me, I love to do things in excess," I added.
She reached behind her back and unlatched her bra. I waited with a smile. I was going to see Audrey's breasts, finally.
She was tall. Maybe an inch or two taller than me, which at that moment turned me on a lot. I like the idea of being in command of someone slightly bigger than me. She turned her face down and then looked up at me through her thick lashes. It reminded me of exactly how my crush started.
My relationship with Audrey had a strange arc. When I first met her I was immediately physically attracted to her. After only a brief conversation I found out her personality was just as much my type. She was brainy, buxom, and well read. Plus she had this thing, where her bottom lip was slightly fatter than her top, which gave her a slight pout all the time. It drove me crazy.
There was also a pride in her. A particular posture. Though she could be shy and introverted, she never cowered. She was confident in her intelligence, though she was well aware of her social awkwardness.
Sadly, my initial lust had to be put aside as it seemed she wasn't interested. I was a bit too much of a playboy perhaps. I had a reputation among our group. And so we became friends. Friends who flirted.
And that seemed to be that. We always gravitated to each other whenever we were in the same room. She was a bit of a homebody, so I usually only saw her at people's birthdays or holiday parties, though I was always thinking up excuses to run into her.
It went on that like for a year or more. Always flirting, always teetering on something more. Thus, I was surprised when she asked me to get some coffee with her after a housewarming a mutual friend threw.
We sat and we laughed and we drank lattes. The silences between jokes were tenser than usual. The double entendres a bit more pointed. That's when the bet came.
It was a stupid random fact. We were talking about all the pigeons in the courtyard of her building and she shrugged and said, "Well, it is the state bird."
She seemed so sure, though I knew she was wrong.
"The pigeon is not the state bird of New York," I laughed.
She narrowed her eyes.
"They are! I remember reading it somewhere. They are officially called Rock Doves and they are the official birds of New York State."
I shook my head.
"I know they're called Rock Doves, but I'm pretty sure the state bird is the bluebird, but since you are emphatic, how about a bet?" I said, finishing my coffee.
She raised her eyebrows confidently.
"Maybe. I mean, sure. I'll bet you because I know I'm right," she said chipperly.
"And the stakes?" I asked, feeling some little wall between us toppling.
She smiled at me and thought about it.
"Well, if I win," she started, "you make me one of those big meals you keep talking about. Something delicious and hearty that I can eat all week. Something French."
"Ah," I considered, "and I would come over to your place and cook it?"
She sipped her drink and nodded.
"Hm, that's involved. Lots of ingredients, time, and work. I'll have to think of something interesting for my end of the wager," I said, eyeing her.
She looked down at her half empty cup and then back up at me with a somewhat hungry expression.
"Well, from what I've gathered you have a pretty vivid imagination," she said, seeming to blush a bit.
"Oh, have you heard stories?" I laughed.
She looked up at me, biting her bottom lip.
"I have, as a matter of fact. I've heard some pretty lurid things. So let's hear it then. What type of kinky wager will that dirty mind think up? It can be sexual, within reason. I mean, I'm not going to fuck you on a dare," she said with a laugh.
"On a dare," rang in my head.
I thought about it. That night at the cafe she had on a tight sweater. Her lips were a very kissable red.
"Okay. No sex. That would be too easy anyhow. If I win, you come over to my apartment, strip naked and I get to examine you however I want."
"Examine me?" She said, wrinkling her eyebrows.
"Yes, examine. Thoroughly. Sex is often fleeting or in the dark or full of inhibitions. There never seems to be time to just look at someone's body. To really explore it. I want that. I want to see every bit of you and touch every bit of you," I explained.
She contemplated that. I could see her trying to be brave and confident, but also blushing and full of worry.
"But no sex?" she asked.
I shifted.
"If that's how you would prefer it, I'll keep my clothes on," I said.
She considered.
