Lacy Underwear Or Not

YES!

Another sweltering shift at the giant warehouse store was finally through, and after lifting a thousand dirty boxes all night I was filthy and starving. I used to clock out an exhausted heap after all the strenuous exercise, but lately I'd been feeling more stimulated after work, physically

and

mentally.

I'd been at this job for a couple years to get me through college, as the early morning hours coordinated well with my classes. Being in the midst of summer break however, my schedule was more relaxed and my days were actually free, so I headed straight home.

As I unlocked the door to my apartment around 8:30 in the morning, I was greeted by a bright and sunny, "Good morning!" bouncing my way from down the hall. It was my roommate Lacy, who was often just waking up when I trudged in from work.

Lacy was an ex-girlfriend from high school, (not to mention the couple of flings we'd had since then), but after too many fights and a hundred petty differences, I was thrilled to call her 'just a friend', and somehow . . . my roommate.

As the lease ran out on my previous place I was desperate for a quick renter to help with expenses. Lacy happened to be searching as well, and suggested we split a place together seeing as how we both had steady partners. It seemed ridiculous at the time, but the fact that we were otherwise attached was the only reason I had even considered it. There was no way in hell I'd have ever agreed to us living together as anything other than friends.

Lacy was definitely a great friend though, and we got along famously when we weren't emotionally involved; I had to figure there was a chance we could make it work. We each assured our significant other the arrangement would be totally platonic, despite our intimate history, and that we just needed a good living solution for a while.

My girlfriend Samantha, who lived outside of town, was hardly thrilled in the slightest. The girls knew each other from school, and didn't really see eye to eye. Sam actually warned me if I ever hooked up with Lacy while we were living together she'd have me hunted down, drawn and quartered. She wasn't joking.

So, with that delightful image keeping my head about me, we moved in.

It actually worked out well as we got settled. Lacy worked in the afternoon and went out with her boyfriend or friends after work. I would hit the sack early in the evening and was up around 3:00am. The only time we even saw each other was on the weekends, or early on summer mornings.

"What smells so good?" I called down the hall.

"I'm making breakfast," Lacy shouted back, "so I'm glad you came home."

I'd often stop at a local pub with some workmates for eggs and coffee in the summer, and wouldn't finally roll in until closer to 10:00.

"Well I'm starving," I voiced back, "thanks for cooking!"

I set my things down in the hall and considered a quick shower. I was excessively grungy, and I'd typically hop right in after walking through the door.

"You're welcome, and it's almost ready so don't shower," she said, reading my mind.

I walked into the living room and sat on the couch, flipping on the small TV and rambling through some channels.

Lacy padded out in her bare feet and a long baggy T-shirt, flopping down next to me on the couch. "So how was work?" she asked, looking clean and fresh, especially compared to me. Her short blonde hair was damp and smelled like flowers. She pulled her bare legs up underneath her and looked at me for a reply.

"Same as usual," I sighed. "Carl from receiving asked if I wanted to jam with him and his buddies this weekend, so I think I'm heading over there tonight."

"Sounds cool," she said, "What does he play?"

"I hear he has a pretty impressive drum kit," I said, getting excited thinking about playing with some new musicians again, "and he was actually in the Drum Corps Elite marching squad for a time, if you can believe that."

"You're kidding, that's amazing!" she said, placing a hand on my leg with her eyes wide, "they're awesome!" I knew she was speaking from experience because not only had Lacy been in marching band through most of high school, but her older brother also taught Drum Corps at a local level.

I felt a little awkward tension appear as her hand stayed on my leg for longer than normal. I didn't think much of it really; she was just a touchy person. That was how she talked to people, and I was well aware of it.

I glanced down at her hand, which she moved a little to let me know she realized it was there. My eyes also registered the fact she wasn't wearing much under her shirt, as her bare leg kept going as it crossed underneath her body. Was she sitting there in just a T-shirt and underwear?

It figured. Lacy was hardly self-conscious and could be pretty casual around the house, believe me. She would often take advantage of having a roommate she knew had seen her in all her glory, and would forego certain civilities she'd typically have in place for anyone else. In the mornings she knew it was just us, a couple of good friends who could hang out in whatever they happened to be comfortable in.

I had to steer my focus back to the conversation.

"I'll need to grab some new strings and fix my pickups if I'm going to play with them this weekend," I said, trying to keep my eyes to myself.

Working at the warehouse store was like an intense exercise every day, so my blood was warmed and my skin was sensitive to every input. The strange combination of her soft hand on my thigh and the sight of her smooth bare legs started getting to me.

"Where are you going then," Lacy asked, completely unaware of my racing mind, "to play I mean."

"Carl, lives on campus," I half gulped, "just down from fraternity row. They soundproofed the walls in the basement so we should be able to get pretty loud."

She rolled her eyes at that one. Lacy wasn't a fan of rock music, and constantly mocked my tastes. Not that I didn't give it right back, teasing her about her ever-changing infatuation with whoever was the hot flavor of the week. Our little conversations always gave us gentle reminders of why we were just friends, and never fared well as a couple.

She finally withdrew her hand and crossed her arms next to me and looked at the TV.

"The breakfast casserole should be just about done," she said with a hint of pride to her voice, "I sure hope you're hungry in there . . ."

I looked down at myself and shuddered at how much dirtier I got in the summer months with all the sweating and lifting we did at work. I was amazed again at the stunning contrast of Lacy's clean shirt and smooth legs right up next to my grunginess. Glancing down, I noticed something else.

Once Lacy had folded her arms, the lowest edge of her shirt rode up and I could see more of her hip, like, all of it, and it was completely bare! Now I had to wonder if she was sitting next to me without

anything

on under there. The thought really got to me, because even for her that was a little much.

She kept talking but I stopped listening. My jeans were getting tight and I felt my throat drying up. I knew I'd seen it all from her a thousand times, but there was something about the morning sun and my sore muscles that made it that much more sensual to me.

I was sure she thought nothing of it. I mean, I know for a fact she was well aware she was sitting next to me in just a T-shirt, but to her it didn't mean anything. She was just padding around our place like it was home.

I felt bad for noticing and thinking it was sexy of her to sit around with no underwear on. My girlfriend Samantha was gorgeous, but definitely not as open about her assets as Lacy had always been. I started to smile on the inside, thinking I was pretty lucky to have such a carefree spirit for a roommate, and one who even cooked breakfast!

The timer rang over the oven, to which she placed her hand on my thigh again to boost herself up. I followed her with my eyes, and the shirt fell quickly into place, covering everything I thought I had seen.

Was I hoping for a peek at her bare ass or something?

I tried desperately to get her near-nakedness out of my head by staring at the television, but I couldn't do it. I was feeling strange and inappropriate, wanting to hit the shower to get my mind off of her, but it was too late.

"Oh you're going to like this Michael," she sang from the kitchen. "Come take a look!"

I hopped up easily, like one does after an extensive workout, and strode into the kitchen in my steel toed boots. I felt ten feet tall as I stood next to her petite form. She waved her hand over the shallow pan of molten food, wafting enchanting smells in my direction.

There was definitely bacon, eggs, maybe some maple syrup, hash browns and something else I couldn't quite place buried in that dish of pure succulence. It was a breakfast buffet in a single pan! I was so hungry I could have kissed her for joy.

Lacy put a couple cooling stands on the kitchen table and leaned over to set down the steaming pan. As she did, the neck of her shirt dropped silently away and my eyes wandered in without thinking. Sure enough, she wasn't wearing a stitch of god damn clothing under there! Her breasts hung naked off her chest, and a little tuft of curly fur was peeking up just beyond them, barely visible from deep inside that teasing shirt.

It was gone in a flash as she straightened and turned toward the oven, but

man,

my heart was racing!

My fingers shook as I picked up a spatula and started cutting sections from the dish as Lacy brought us some clean plates and forks.

"Wow Lace, this smells insane," I honestly groaned in admiration of her cooking prowess, while simultaneously trying to keep my mind off some of her other admirable qualities.

"Thanks Michael," she beamed as she sat down across from me, watching as I dished us both a plate, "you know how to make a girl feel appreciated."

She stared at my hands as I pulled the succulent concoction from the pan. The mystery ingredient was definitely cheese, and it stretched from the pan to the plate like a rubbery web.

I pushed a piping plateful across the table to her and began a sizeable portion for myself. Once my plate was towering with food, Lacy smiled a satisfied grin and took her first bite. I knew she liked it when I filled my plate; it meant I was really looking forward to her homemade cooking.

I sat down and started immediately digging in, hot or not.

"Mmmmm, this is incrwwdbww!" I mumbled across a mouth full of delicious food just before I swallowed. "Where did you learn to make this?" I asked, pulling another heaping forkful into my ravenous maw.

"Mom used to feed everyone before swing choir practice," she said as she swallowed a more human-sized bite. "We'd all meet around six at our house and eat this same breakfast dish before heading out in the morning."

"Sounds like a good memory," I said honestly, wiping some cheese from my chin with a napkin.

"A great memory, actually," she beamed, half in remembrance and half proud of recreating another one of her mother's fine dishes. Lacy's mother Meredith had passed away 2 years prior from a surprising health related issue. I knew this was a soft spot for Lacy so I made sure to tread cautiously.

"She really knew how to cook, didn't she?" I asked, poised to down another fork full of deliciousness.

"She was the best," Lacy replied with a positive light to her voice, "I'm so happy I get to cook for us every once in a while. Kevin doesn't really appreciate it that much."

Lacy's boyfriend was an okay guy. He was a DJ at the local Top 40 station, and was one of the few I'd met that didn't have 'a face made for radio.' In other words he was actually a decent looking guy. The only thing that drove me crazy about him is that he was always 'on'. He never really kicked back and let his guard down, not that I'd ever seen anyway.

He would come to our place only on rare occasions. Since Lacy worked near the station, they would often stay out, and as a result I rarely saw them together. Maybe he didn't feel comfortable coming over with me around, or maybe they just enjoyed going out all the time and socializing in the 'scene'.

"You know he can come over any time Lace," I said, swallowing another mouthful of nourishment, "I'm happy to find other places to keep myself amused if you need some time together here."

"I know, and you've always been great about that," she said, "he's just never keen on the idea of coming over. He never says why . . . or at least he has a good reason every time it comes up."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up," I tried to change the subject, "I for one count myself lucky to be the primary recipient of your fantabulous cheffery!" She chuckled at that and we made small talk as we ate, drinking her succulent French press coffee as we did.

After we finished I rose with my empty plate and contemplated filling it again; I felt like I could eat forever. I left it alone though and grabbed the pan, bringing it to the counter to cool before packing it away.

"Thank you for cleaning up Michael," she said over her cup of coffee. I turned to look, and from the side her shirt had pulled up casually around her waist again, like a T-shirt normally does. The way it was sitting on her legs made it very apparent she was indeed bottomless, sitting there with her bare butt right on the chair. She wasn't looking at me, just sipping at her coffee and staring ahead.

I wanted to capture that moment, as it was pretty dirty in my own head. I knew she appreciated my tact about her casual demeanor, so I played it off as if it were the most normal meal we'd ever shared.

We definitely shared a lot over the years, and as we got older, our tastes drifted and our goals and dreams became canyons apart. Even though I always had a soft spot in my heart for Lacy, I knew it would never work out for us in the long run.

She loved action and change, moving with the pace of the world. Nothing stayed in her mind's eye for very long before she was off to the next shiny thing. She had always been that way, and it drove me crazy.

I, on the other hand, could rarely find something that even sparked my interest, but once I did, I'd dive into it head first. I loved to read and research, exploring ideas and subjects thoroughly when I found something fascinating. Lacy was one of those fascinating subjects once, and I knew everything about her. What her favorite musical number was, who her favorite authors were, where she liked me to concentrate my skillful tongue at night . . .

We both realized we would never work together, but I had also been her go-to for sex between relationships as well. I rarely had a steady girl during those times, but I always welcomed her into my bed when a friendly visit turned intimate.

Sex with Lacy always seemed to begin as a subtle game during our relationship and afterward. For example, she would stop by to discuss something 'important'; then eventually she would

have

to show me the new bra she had purchased, or something just as signaling. She would casually lift her shirt to show off her bulging cups, and I would softly touch along their surface, appreciating the fine 'quality of fabric'.

"It feels like it'd be very comfortable in there," I would say, "the material is so smooth."

"This is definitely the best one I own," she would say, trying to keep on subject, "I mean you can't even see my nipples through this one." She would press her finger right there and push in a couple times, rubbing in a small circle where her nipple would be. Then she would drop her hand and wait expectantly for me to see what she meant.

"No, you sure can't," I'd say with my finger pressing in, "Are they hard?"

"A little I think," she'd reply, "I guess I haven't really tested them that far."

So then I'd tease her nipple through the soft pad and pinch it a couple times to see if I could put it through the paces. I took my time with it, making sure I was really giving it the old boy scout try, while she just sat and watched my fingers press and pinch and squeeze and rub against her encapsulated breast.

"I still don't see any nipple through there," I would say after a time, "either this is one sturdy bra, or it's not even hard."

"Oh it's hard Michael," she would reply, "see?" and with that she would pull her cup down and show me the knotted red nose on the face of her lovely naked breast. I would of course reach up and test it for hardness by tweaking it a little and looking intently while I did.

"Wow, I see what you mean," I'd say and start to toy with it a little more softly in my fingers. As I concentrated on the bare button, she would pull the other cup down to show me how both her nipples were actually hard. I would pay equal attention to both, tweaking and pinching her stiff buds in appreciation.

When she stopped talking altogether and just breathed under my petting hands, I would slowly lean in and take a sweet nipple into my mouth. I wouldn't lick it, I wouldn't suck on it, I'd just leave her tender tip inside my mouth as I caressed the soft sexy skin around it with my hands.

At this point Lacy would reach back and undo her bra completely, making some excuse for it like, "it even releases nicely without snapping back." Not even she cared about that.

"Mmmm," is all I would say around her wet nipple, sucking as much of her naked tit into my mouth as I could possibly fit.

At that point we were definitely going to be having sex, and very quickly she would just pull me up for a long sensuous kiss while we worked on shedding our clothes.

Sex with Lacy was always fantastic, and I think she liked having it as often as any man. Her tastes were a little risqué, but not overly kinky. She liked to play games in the bedroom, and I always found it to be highly stimulating to say the least. She would willingly trade oral favors, and always had an orgasm during our little trysts, sometimes many.

I could continually depend on memories of our encounters to get me erect if I needed something hot to think about on a solitary bout. Having Lacy living in my own home was a constant reminder of these times for sure, but we had also spent so many periods of being strictly friends with zero benefits, it was easy to see her as just a great friend as well.

I couldn't help but wonder this morning whether she was just being extremely casual around me, or if she was seeing what I would do if she let it hang out a little in front of me. Probably the former; it was more than likely I was just worked up from all the exercise.

"Okay, now I really need to take a shower," I said.

"Yes you do," she said, "I haven't seen you looking

that

dirty in a long time." She sipped her coffee while looking me in the eye and winked.

Now I knew she was toying with me. I had to get out of there before I did something stupid, like saying what came out of my mouth next.

"Yeah, I keep forgetting how dirty you've seen me get," I said as I walked out of the kitchen and headed down the hall.

I knew for a fact I would get a snappy reply, and her predictable nature shone through like a beacon as I heard her call after me, "I seem to recall you having a thing for getting pretty dirty for a while there."

"You know me well Lace," I called back as I closed my bedroom door firmly behind me. I chuckled to myself. I really liked the playful banter we always shared. Too bad it always had to end up in some kind of crazy dramatic bullshit whenever we got together.

I put on some music and started to peel the thin layers of grimy work clothes off my body. It felt so good to be free of them after a long sweaty morning of lifting dirty boxes. I grabbed a clean towel from the dresser and headed out to the bathroom.