Robin the Crude Prude

This one just kind of poured out of me, using themes I've employed in the past. Anyway, I think it's just a one off, but it is a big one. Pretty slow burn; not too hardcore. Hope you like it!

Robin and I had been roommates for over two years, but I was still apprehensive about inviting her to an outing with our friends. Inevitably, she would get offended in some way, spoiling the mood. I swear, she is an enigma. An absolute beauty. A knockout! She has the kind of figure that even Playboy models would kill for, yet Robin absolutely hates if anyone acknowledges it. God forbid, someone cross the line and actually flirt with her. If that happens, party's over. She's going to throw a stink. Even if you aren't flirting with her, you better be careful how you look in her general direction. If she gets the wrong impression, it makes for an exhausting time of unnecessary apologies and eggshell-walking. Anyway, you probably know the type. Robin McCaffrey is very high maintenance.

Yet I also knew, if I didn't invite Robin to come with us, she'd likely get very sour with me. Damned if I do, damned if I don't, right? I decided to do the deed, and knocked on her bedroom door. "Who is it?" Robin called out.

She knew who it was. We're the only two people who live in this apartment, and we never have guests over unannounced. "It's me, David," I called back.

"Oh, okay. Come in."

I gently opened the door and made my way in. Robin was sitting on her bed, dressed in her long, plain white tee. I know she often wears it to bed, but rarely in my presence. Though it's long, nearly reaching her knees, it wraps tightly against her skin, and when she's braless, one can clearly see the unique and sultry shape of her bosom. It's almost every bit as revealing as going without clothing. She had her knees propped up, covering most of her body, when I came in. Regardless, I made a clear effort to maintain strict eye contact.

"Would you like to go to Beavers Creek this Saturday?" It's the local water park, themed after its name, and popular with the college crowd. "Nancy and Bo invited us. We're playing a few rounds of volleyball against some of the regulars."

"And what? Have everybody creep on me? Hoping to see me in a bikini?"

I ignored her spat. "Robin, they just asked if you want to go. No one mentioned anything more than that. You don't have to wear a bikini. You can-"

"Oh, right. And subject myself to everyone berating me, for not dressing like the others, huh?"

"Fine, don't go. If you're so damned concerned people will sexualize you, just don't risk it, okay? Never go out! I won't bother inviting you anywhere, and we won't have to play this stupid game." I turned around, charging out the door, slamming it behind me. I went to my room and texted Nancy that Robin wasn't coming.

I resisted the urge to leave my bedroom. I genuinely want to have a decent relationship with my roommate, but I don't think I should have to apologize. Instead, Robin may require an even more thorough tongue-lashing. I was truly sick of her shit. She needed to get it through her thick skull that she impedes her own happiness with her ridiculous, overzealous bullshit. It took some time to calm myself, but I decided to drop it and pulled out my studies. Finals were less than five weeks away.

A couple hours later, I freshened up in the bathroom and headed to bed. As usual, I stripped down to nothing, kicking my clothes to the corner. They'd be picked up in the morning, on my way to the shower, where they'd find the laundry basket. The only source of light came from the dim lamp on my night table. I crawled into bed and reached to turn it off, when there was a knock at the door. I paused for a second before answering. "Yes?"

"David, can I come in?"

I sat up, my back against the headboard and quickly arranged the sheets and blanket. Considering I was naked underneath, I didn't want to risk accidentally exposing myself to Robin. "Yeah, okay. Come in."

Robin opened the door and peeped in, "Are you decent?"

"I'm covered by the sheets. What's up?"

"Mind if I talk to you a minute? I've been, uh... well, I've been thinking about what you said."

"Oh... uh, okay." I desperately hoped this conversation wouldn't get awkward. Was Robin about to argue with me while I'm naked? Not only that, the first thing I noticed was she was still dressed in that tight t-shirt, without the bra. Exceptionally rare, as she usually puts one on when leaving her room. At minimum, she throws a robe over everything. Not tonight.

I was sitting up, but under the covers. Robin came around, standing to the right of me, a couple feet away from the bed. The light from the lamp emphasized her left side, almost making her shirt transparent in that area. Of course, my eyes shot straight to her face, though it was almost too dark to see her eyes. The light struggled to pass her bosom. "Listen, David. I, uh... I.." There was a tremble in her voice. Robin, always so confident, was out of her element.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "Did something happen?"

"No, no, I'm fine. It's about the conversation we had. I owe you an apology. I'm just not good at giving them."

"Already forgotten. I shouldn't have blown up like that, but --"

"No, you're right. I mean... well, look. You're like the most respectful guy I know, and if you're fed up with me, maybe I ought to listen." This seemed like a complete 180 from the Robin I typically know, but I kept my mouth shut, stunned by the sincerity in her tone. "I, uh... I've been taking this class... and it's kind of opened my eyes to how toxic my behavior can be."

"Robin," I said, wanting to tell her she was being too hard on herself, but I quickly changed my mind. She was right, but I didn't want to rub it in her face. I tried to encourage her, "Hey, I mean, that's actually great. I think all of us can improve ourselves, so I am glad to hear you're working on it."

"I don't want to just work on it. I really want to change. Really change. BIG change. I know I need it. I just wish it was easy." There was a long and audible sigh. "Do you mind if I sit for just a minute?"

Super weird, considering our platonic relationship, but Robin appeared to be shaking. I scooched over a few inches, offering the edge of the bed. She flipped around, sat down, and sort of gazed to the wall behind the lamp, rather than me. Now, instead of her left side, I could see her right, the light creating shadows against her curves. I was glad Robin couldn't see me peeking from this angle.

"My mother gave me her first speech about the evils of man when I was very young. It was right after my parents' divorce. My father had multiple affairs, and Mother pounded into me that men only want women for sex. They don't care for anything but our bodies, and meaningful relationships aren't possible."

"That's pretty heavy."

"Mother would get so angry if I wore a skirt, or even shorts, afraid men would look at my flesh. She said chastity and modesty are our most sacred things." I stayed quiet, allowing Robin to find her pace. Clearly, she was uncomfortable talking about this. She gently sobbed, "Once, I swam in the bayou with just my underwear. Mother caught me, and I got twenty lashes for that."

"Robin," I sighed. "Hey, that's... well, I'm sorry that happened to you. It's... uh... it's... wrong."

Robin was nodding her head fast, almost shivering. I briefly noticed how it made her breasts jiggle. I could see the side view of one bouncing under the thin shirt. Habitually, my eyes instantly went back up to her face. It didn't matter. She didn't notice. She was still staring at the wall, too embarrassed to make eye contact with me. "It's fucked up," she whispered. "I'm just now getting how fucked up it is. Like I said, I've been taking this class. Psychology. And the professor has also been seeing me outside of class. She's been very helpful."

"The professor?"

"Yes. Professor Winchell. Amanda Winchell."

"Is your professor supposed to be your therapist?"

Robin chuckled, "Hah, yeah, I don't think so. In fact, we discussed that, but things kind of fell into place organically. She noticed some behaviors of mine and approached me after class one day. I guess her childhood wasn't so different from mine. She's trying to help me through it."

I sat up a bit more. "I'm glad it's helping. What's that mean for you? Would you like to come to the water park with us?"

"Am I still invited?"

"Of course, Robin. Of course."

Robin was practically crying, but I could also make out she was smiling. "Okay, thank you, David." Finally, she turned to face me. "And I promise, I'm not going to blow up like that again, no matter what. You've always been respectful, and a good friend."

"I'm glad you think so."

"And uh... I just want to say... I'm open to advice."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, what you said, when you got mad at me. You said that I need to start respecting you and others, and I need to stop jumping to conclusions about things. So, uh... you know, if you see me reverting to old habits, don't be afraid to call me out. Maybe try not to yell so much next time, though."

I laughed with her and said, "Yeah, I think I can do that. I'm just so happy for you, Robin. I mean it. Your therapist is right. These changes will be good for you."

"I think so, too."

I tried to break the awkwardness and made an attempt at humor, but I may have jumped the gun. I said, "And hey, this therapy must be working! You never would have come into the room, wearing just your t-shirt, before tonight."

Instinctively, Robin pulled her arms and elbows to her chest to better cover herself. "Oh... uh... I mean, I'm not sure what you..." She stopped herself, took a breath and nodded, dropping her arms and trying to force a smile. "Okay, you got me. And yeah, you're right. I was always too stuffy and protective." She paused for a moment, getting serious, turning to me. "Let me ask you something. Do you think you could help me find some new clothes?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe just a few things... a bit more casual. Less conservative."

I repositioned myself on the bed frame. "Well, this is different. Sure, I would do that for you."

Robin giggled and shook her head. "You're not going to believe what the professor said to me. She said I need to 'slut it up' at home, that it will help me be more comfortable with my body. To be honest, that's why I'm not wearing my robe. It took me a while to find the courage."

"She really said that?" I asked, laughing louder. "'Slut it up'?"

"Professor Winchell was joking, of course, but she asked me to really put in the effort in changing my behaviors. She said, even if I have to force myself to try new things, I must try. The reasons why and how it will benefit me will come naturally. She kept emphasizing that last bit."

"She might be right, Robin. I hate to say it, but there's being prudish, and then there's the militant version of that. That's you." Robin let out a slight groan, but I continued, "Until now, anyway. What about when you're alone? Do you ever... I mean... get a little sensual with yourself?"

I could see immediately from Robin's expression the answer was no. An idea struck me. One I knew Robin would normally be resistant to, but frankly, I didn't know what else to offer. Robin is far too acclimated to being defensive when getting any sexual attention, but maybe this was an opportunity. After all, she opened the conversation.

I spoke, "I want you to go to your bedroom right now and put on the sexiest, or most sensual, outfit that you own -- whatever it might be -- and put it on your body." Robin was mortified I was being so stern and serious. The topic sounded ludicrous on the surface, yet I persisted. "You are not to stop until you SUCCEED at feeling sexy. I mean it. You need to break this barrier you've built for yourself, and why not do it now, while you're recognizing the good in it?"

"What do I do, after I dress this way?"

"ENJOY IT!!" I screamed, but quickly apologized for the overly excited tone, and regrouped. "You need to know, it is okay to feel sexy, Robin."

"David, it's..." Robin couldn't come back with an answer.

"I am telling you, Robin, if you become comfortable feeling sexy with yourself -- being okay with who you naturally are -- then maybe you won't be so hyper-focused on being offended by others, who might find you attractive."

***

Robin sauntered to her room and began fishing through her drawers. It was the third one down when she found an old, light blue halter top. The last time she wore it was her sophomore year of college. Even then, she never wore it in public. It was something she bought on a whim, but never had the courage to wear it in public. Now that she was at least one cup larger since she last used it, she wondered if it would fit. Her bust didn't stop fully developing until after graduation.

Robin took off her blouse and bra, and took a moment, staring into the mirror. She often avoided looking at herself naked, as if ashamed of her own body, but she had no reason to be like this. Frankly, she was well-aware she had an envious figure. Robin took a beat to clear her head of negativity, and focused on the image reflecting in the mirror. She saw a curvy, hourglass shape, with a natural, tight bum. Her nipples were dark, perfect circles, mounted high on full, teardrop-shaped breasts. Robin ran a finger along her hips, up her side and then to her breasts, feeling their firmness. She sighed. Maybe she could understand why guys might like this.

She wrestled with the halter top, squeezing it on, with just enough material to cover the naughty bits. There wasn't much material stretching over the rest of her flesh, though. On rare occasions in her life, Robin displayed cleavage, but never had it been viewable from under her breasts. This garment created an "underboob" effect, showing as much from a low angle, as the one above it. Thin straps wrapped her shoulders, but only served to push her mounds up more, so there was heaps of traditional cleavage. The top had a few buttons, but she dared not actually unsnap any of them.

She looked again at the mirror image, thinking, then hiking her skirt up a bit. If she bent over, there might be risk of a panty shot. Her bum looked good from that angle, and her exposed mid-section was a very new experience. She wasn't sure if she was looking at something 'sexy' or slutty, but she was feeling a bit frisky and was very curious to be validated. It was a new feeling, and likely one developed with the help of Professor Amanda. Robin wondered what a man would think of this outfit. Would he be turned on?

**

"Hey, David?" Robin called from her door, her voice carrying down the cornered hallway.

"Yeah?" I shouted.

Robin talked loudly, but I could hear her voice getting closer. She was making her way down the hall. "Hey, I did what you said! I... uh... well, this is crazy, but do you want to see?"

I shouted again, even louder. "Yes! Of course!"

Robin nervously cried out, "Promise you won't make fun."

"Never!" I said. "You know I won't."

"Swear?"

"I'll pay your share of the rent for the next two months if I laugh."

"You mean it?"

"Yes. On my honor! Come on, get out here!"

When Robin turned the corner, I nearly swallowed my tongue and launched directly into a coughing fit. I had expected an evening dress, maybe, or perhaps a swimsuit, but not this! Robin's tits looked as if they were about to burst through an overworked halter top, and the skirt was lifted close to her panty line. If I didn't know her better, I'd expect her to be working the corner of 5th and Main tonight.

"You don't like it, do you?"

I tried to stop coughing, nodding enthusiastically, "Yes... yes, I do... but... but... well, I mean... do you feel sexy?"

"I don't know," Robin protested, stepping forward. "I don't think I know how!"

I managed to relax, but realized I might struggle with not laughing. What Robin was wearing was so antithetical to the woman I knew, it looked unnatural. I smiled and said, "Okay, first thing's first. My opinion? If you're going to wear something like this, you need to go all-out with it."

"If I wear something like this?" Robin hesitated.

"I mean, this is the kind of thing you might wear before bed, with your boyfriend, when you roleplay."

"Roleplay?"

"It's very sexy, Robin, but in a slutty kind of way. That's what I'm trying to say."

"I was afraid of that!" Robin gasped, squinting.

I continued, "So again, I am asking you, Robin. Does it make you feel sexy?"

Robin shrugged, looking confused. "I think so. It shows off my body, right?"

"The thing is, Robin, in public, some people might think better of you, if you went stark naked, rather than wearing something like this. This gives off 'I'm a slut' vibes, which is great for the appropriate time and place."

"This isn't appropriate for a club?"

"Again, it depends on the situation. Let's try this. Pretend I am your boyfriend, and you want to dress sleazily to get my attention. Maybe take me to a rave party, or a sexy, adult-themed event. This outfit is perfectly suited for that, although you ought to unbutton at least one button on that halter top. Go even further with it." I pointed, before stepping forward and doing it for her. The material snapped away, exposing even more of Robin's top cleavage. I could see a hint of areola.

"Oh, my!" Robin jumped back, her breasts bouncing, in reaction to the sudden shift in motion. Even more of her nipples were exposed, having popped out a bit.

"It's perfectly fine," I said, my hands up in surrender. "You almost have the skirt perfect, too. Hike it up one more inch."

"But then my panties will definitely show!" Robin protested.

"Wait. You shouldn't be wearing panties with that outfit. Come on, Robin. If you want to be serious about this, take them off. Now!" My voice wasn't forceful, but encouraging, and Robin followed the instructions, yet seemed unsure in her actions. When she bent down to kick her panties off, her left nipple popped out entirely. Robin was too nervous to notice, instead focusing on the current act of lifting her skirt higher.

She spoke, "Without panties, if I go higher, it--"

"Just do it," I said. Robin nodded and lifted the material. It stretched across her ass, the bottom quarter of it clearly visible. Her tits were on display, too, whether she knew it or not. "Very nice," I said. "Now THAT will get a man hard."

"David!" Robin shouted, eyes wide. "You're embarrassing me!"

I smiled, winking. "I assure you, the same applies to me. I'm quite embarrassed seeing you this way, but wow! I can't believe you are so brave to do this."

Robin looked herself over, suddenly realizing her nipples were exposed. She adjusted the top, but it did little to change the situation. "Yeah, I don't have many things to try on, David. To feel sexy, you know. I thought this..."

"It's very nice, and now you know when it's best to wear such a thing. What's most important is you allowed this interaction to happen, without popping your lid. You used to get so angry if you thought I was staring at your tits, even a little bit."

Robin laughed. "Yeah, I know. Stupid, right?"

"I always thought you were blowing it out of proportion."

"So, you were looking?" Robin laughed.

"Oh, sometimes. Maybe. Does it bother you now, like before?"

"The professor told me I need to trust people, and to enjoy their company. She explained..." Robin seemed hesitant to speak. "Well, she said... sometimes, people might look at you that way and it's okay to allow it, if it doesn't interfere with, or define, the friendship. So long as it doesn't get awkward. A glance of admiration here and there, is not the same as devolving someone to a sex object."