I got up, washed my face and went out for breakfast. It was my habit to wait until after breakfast to fully dress, so I was just in my bra and panties. Skimpy attire, sure, but it's just me and my roommate Sarah. I was mixing my cereal in the kitchen when Sarah's boyfriend Jimmy wandered in, bare chested, wearing just a pair of Speedo briefs. "Hi," he said casually, as he sat down at the kitchen table, undeterred by the semi-naked woman (me.) I froze. He often slept over on a weekend, but never when the next day was a workday, like today. I had no idea he was in the apartment. When he was, I always wore clothes to breakfast.
"How come you're here, Jimmy" I said. "Where's Sarah?"
"Oh, she left for work. I stayed over as I'm working remotely today. You don't mind, do you?" he said.
Yes, I did mind, but I didn't want to be the hysterical female, flinging my arms around my body like an octopus for cover and fleeing. So, I played it cool like he did -- nothing unusual to see here, folks. Just a girl in her underwear. Anyway, it's no different than if I were wearing a bikini, right?
I sat down at the table with him. Despite my attempts at casualness, I felt exposed -- and aroused -- by the forbidden quality of this encounter. No, it's not the same as wearing a bikini on a beach. My nipples hardened, pressing against the thin fabric of the bra. He had to notice. After a few moments, he stared right at my chest.
"You've got great tits," Jimmy said, as smoothly as if he were commenting that it had rained last night. "Nice and plump, and bigger than Sarah's, I think."
"Thanks," I stammered. (I was raised to be polite.)
"A great ass, too. You usually keep that body of yours all covered up. You work out?"
"Yeah," I replied. "There's a gym next door to my work place and I often go in during our lunch break."
"Yeah, well it shows," he said. "I wish Sarah worked out. She's putting on some weight, getting a little frumpy."
You may be expecting that he then bolted across the table and ravished me. Nope. We finished eating and each left to get dressed. But the intimacy of the two of us alone, him just in briefs, me largely exposed, and his brazenness in discussing my body, had me flustered. Did I encourage him by not immediately leaving the kitchen to put on clothes? Should I complain to Sarah about her leaving this guy alone in the apartment without alerting me?
I didn't have to wait long. Later that night, Sarah approached me.
"Jimmy says you got all flustered when he saw you in your underwear," she laughed.
"Well," I replied, "it was a shock. If I had known he was in the apartment, I'd have worn a robe or something. It was embarrassing."
"You're too uptight," Sarah informed me. "Jimmy's seen a lot of naked women. You've got nothing special."
Well, that was mean. "Jimmy seemed to think I was," I said. "He wished you had a body like mine."
"Really?" she said. "What exactly did he say?"
Now, I normally wouldn't repeat stuff, but her snarky comment about me being nothing special had annoyed me. So I told her.
Sarah left and I next heard her on the telephone. She was having a heated conversation with someone.
Oh my. I should have kept my mouth shut.
The next chapter of this story came on Friday, when Jimmy came over to be with Sarah for the weekend. (Whatever altercation they'd had on the phone about his comments had been papered over.) I, that perennial bad judge of men, had broken up with my last loser boyfriend and was dateless. On Saturday morning, I came out in my robe for breakfast, as I would do when I knew Jimmy would be there. Sarah and Jimmy were already at the kitchen table, both in underwear. Jimmy gave me a big cat-who-ate-the-canary smile.
