She had the house -- Mom's house -- to herself for the weekend, thank heavens. And she hadn't been shy about telling him so as they were leaving the movie. "Come on over?" she'd asked in the demurest tone she could muster.
"Are you sure?" he'd asked.
"I just invited you, didn't I?" Did she need to remind him it was their fifth date already? Or how lucky he was that she adored shy guys so much? Just how long did he expect her to wait?
"I'd love to. If you're sure."
She was sure, all right. And she was absolutely certain now that he sat on the couch in the candlelit living room, sipping chardonnay and admiring her as she fiddled with the stereo. "I just love the glow from the radio, don't you?" he asked. "So romantic."
She stepped back for a look at that glow as the soft jazz purred out of the speakers. It wasn't quite loud enough to drown out the howling winter winds outside, but that only made her feel cozier. "Yes, I guess it is, in a masculine sort of way," she said. Turning to him, she picked up her own wine glass from the cocktail table and drank in his appreciative gaze. He still hadn't even tried to make a move on her.
"Romantic in a masculine way?" he repeated. "Is there such a thing?"
"You'd be surprised at what some guys find romantic," she said between sips of wine. She swayed gently to the beat of the music, enjoying the feel of her skirt swishing around her tights-clad legs and hoping he enjoyed the sight of it. "It usually involves something stereotypically masculine, like a stereo. Of course..." she let out a gentle laugh. "This is my mother's stereo, isn't it?"
He joined in on the laughter. "Beautiful."
"Me or the stereo?!"
"Both!"
"What am I going to do with you?!" She set her wine glass down and held out her arms. "Come here. Dance with me."
Her heart was flying as he joined her in the center of the room and enfolded her in his arms. As they swayed gently around the rug, she gazed up into his eyes and made up her mind, if he didn't at least try to kiss her first, she would give up. To her immense relief, he did lean in. Her lips met his most eagerly, and soon the dancing was forgotten in favor of a passionate, still embrace that lasted well into the next song on the radio. He rubbed her back affectionately throughout, but never once reached for anywhere more daring. For the moment she followed that lead.
When he came up for air at last, he looked to his right at the guest bedroom, where she'd turned the bedside lamp on. "I take it I'll be sleeping there."
"
We
will, I hope!" she quipped with a gentle laugh.
He replied with a nervous laugh of his own. "Oh, I'd love that, if you really want to."
"Of course I really want to! Why do you think I invited you here!"
"I was hoping it was for that," he said. "I just didn't want to assume."
She pulled away from him, still grinning. "You are so adorable! But please, give it a rest and just tell me if you want to make love already! I want to, if you do!"
His face curled into the shyest smile she'd ever seen, and he struggled to maintain eye contact. "I do," he said. "More than you can imagine!"
"Good answer!" She opened her arms to him again. "Shall we?"
He nodded but looked terribly uncertain. "Sorry, it always takes me a bit to get used to..."
"To what?"
"To letting a woman see me naked. I know that sounds silly, but..."
"No!" She gave him a gentle hug and then stepped back. "A lot of people are shy the first time. I used to be the same way, you know."
"Used to be?"
She nodded. "There are some things you don't know about me yet." Two things in particular, and she was sorely tempted to tell him one of them right now. But he would learn it soon enough anyway if they were going to be together. So she decided to show him rather than tell him. "I can undress first. Would that make it more comfortable for you?"
"That sounds really hot!" He couldn't hide his delight.
She laughed and nodded her agreement. "Sit down and finish your wine, then, and I will."
She was already unzipping her skirt by the time he was settled on the couch again. As soon as it was on the floor, she peeled her tights down over her hips and pushed them down after it, but kept her panties on for the moment. After pulling her tights off both feet, she straightened up and saw him gazing contentedly at her. Perfect. "How do I compare with the stereo now?"
"What stereo?"
"Good answer!" She pulled her top and camisole off as one, and waved them around playfully a couple of times before tossing them at him. He caught them, but didn't take his eyes off her. Standing tall and proud with her legs spread a bit, she reached back and slowly, teasingly unhooked her bra. After sliding it off her shoulders, she tossed it on a chair behind her and then rubbed her newly-bared breasts with both hands.
"Do you do that every night when you take it off?"
"Usually," she said. "Feels great." She could hardly wait for him to do it for her. But she wasn't quite done. Unabashed and unashamed, she slid both palms down her hips into her panties. She didn't break her gaze at him, but she wasn't surprised when his eyes headed south as she pushed her panties down. Stretching out her arms as if in a victory celebration, she beamed at him and hoped he'd get back up and hold her. Now that she was nude, she wasn't embarrassed, but she was cold!
She wasn't disappointed; he did get up. "So beautiful," he whispered, enfolding her nude body in his arms. "Feels so unfair, though!"
"Then let's get you out of your clothes already!" She couldn't help noticing that he still hadn't touched her breasts or pussy, though he clearly loved the sight of them. She welcomed his admiring looks, but they made her hungry for more. So she begin tearing his clothes off, much faster than she had removed her own.
***
It all started with Suzanne.
Maggie didn't realize that at the time, but it would all make perfect sense to her when she pieced it all together later on. Of course it started with Suzanne. She would remember the incident well enough, even if she wouldn't appreciate its significance at the time. Suzanne's greatest hits were rather hard to forget, after all.
Appropriately enough, it happened at the beginning of her shift one day back in the dead of winter, shortly after she'd arrived back in town. She stepped into the changing room to find Suzanne already there, with her skirt already on but not her blouse yet. "Aie!" Suzanne shrieked when she saw her, and quickly crossed her arms over her small breasts.
"It's only me, Suzanne," Maggie said, hiding her annoyance as she kicked off her sneakers and opened her locker. She had to admit to herself that she didn't care to see any more of Suzanne's pasty body than she really needed to either.
"I don't know you very well yet, Maggie," Suzanne said, forcing Maggie to put every bit of resolve she had into tamping down a smile. A month or so into her job, the others still had no idea -- and keeping it that way was even harder than Maggie had expected. But she'd done it so far. "The other girls have known me all my life, and I don't like them seeing me naked either."
"Naked? You're are wearing everything but your blouse, aren't you?" reminded Maggie, who had herself stripped down to her bra by then. She also unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down, and took her time stowing her clothes in the locker with no sign of discomfort. She noted without surprise that Suzanne had no qualms about looking at Maggie in her underwear. But Maggie got a kick out of that as always.
"That's true, but...I just don't like being checked out, okay?" Suzanne said. By now she did have her blouse on, and set about lacing up the silly uniform shoes that reminded Maggie of ballet slippers. "As a woman, I've had to live with a lot of people looking at me like a piece of meat, which is why I'm a feminist."
"Do you think I haven't been through that too?" Maggie asked her. "Or that I'm not a feminist?"
"I told you, I don't know you," Suzanne said. "Not like the others do. We've all lived here all our lives. You just moved here a month or two ago, wasn't it?"
"Yes," Maggie said, buttoning up her own ruffly blouse. Once again it was all she could do to keep from spilling the beans about who she was, about the whole story, about how much she remembered about them all including Suzanne. But the time wasn't right, and it certainly wasn't worth wasting on only Suzanne.
"Then you wouldn't understand. I'm sorry, Maggie, but you just wouldn't."
"If you say so, Suzanne," Maggie said. Figuring there was no sense in beating that horse any further, she asked, "So how was your weekend in Philly?"
"Oh, lovely!" Suzanne said, turning off the passive-aggressiveness as easily as ever. Having finished lacing her shoes, she was now openly watching Maggie get dressed without a trace of irony. "Every time I go visit my parents, I feel like moving in with them, actually. They're so lucky they got to move out there, I wish I could've grown up there instead of here. You wouldn't understand, Maggie, but this town is death to grow up in. They always say I'm welcome, you know, and Mom and I could make dinner for Dad just like when I was a girl...oh, those were the days! I miss taking care of him! But Dad said I ought to stick with this job, so it was back on the bus this morning. Oh!" Suzanne burst into laughter. "Want to hear something funny?"
