by S. L. Siwik
His stared at me strangely, his mouth agape for a while. He stood there for such a long time, that I started blushing in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, shaking his head, “I’m just in shock.”
But, at that moment I remembered the important question that needed to be answered, so I ignored his comment.
“Brian, what exactly does casual dating include? I know that you know.”
He raised his brow. “You want to do it, yet you don’t even know what it is.”
“I read it in an article over about how to move on after a break-up. Said you should casually date to remind yourself that life still goes on,” I said, and reveled at how logical my lie sounds.
“Sound advice,” he said, impressed. “It’s the same as dating. The difference is you have to be clear about it upfront. It has to do with level of commitment. Casual dating means you have no plans on making the two of you exclusive any time in the future. Both parties understand that going in. It’s just about going out and having a good time and seeing if the other person is someone that maybe you want to get to know better. Who pays for the date is questionable. I normally always pay, but that’s me.”
“I don’t have a problem paying,” I said, “but now that I know what’s involved I feel a lot better. There’s no expectation of…you know, right?” I was well aware that at the age of twenty-three I should be comfortable saying the word sex. I normally was, but I was talking to Brian, and we stayed away from these topics, so it felt taboo to say it.
“There should be no expectation. Men are men, though, Annie. If he’s a decent guy, you’ll have a good time, no hassle. If he’s a jerk with only one thing on his mind, you might find yourself kneeing him in the groin. Just pick who you go out with carefully.”
I let his advice marinate in my mind for a moment before saying, “I think our avant-garde art is getting boring.”
“Is that so? We’ll have to spice it up a bit then.”
Before I can even ask what he meant by that, he placed a plastic, hairy spider on my stomach. I let out an ear piercing scream, jumped out of the bed, hopping up and down as my hands flailed. When I looked over at Brian chuckling, he had his phone out, taking video. I made a vulgar gesture with my finger before grabbing my packages and heading for the door.
“Come on,” he said to me, still laughing fifteen minutes later. “You have to admit it was funny.”
“I’m not admitting anything,” I said glancing at the large mall directory sign, reading what other stores had recently opened.
He leaned over, his hand moving to my underarm. He began tickling me, and I shrieked. This was the problem with best friends. They knew you were arachnophobic and highly ticklish.
“Come on, admit it.” He brought his second hand around to begin tickling my other underarm and tears streamed down my face from the laughter. “I- I won’t.” I could barely speak the words in between laughs.
“Admit it,” he said again, keeping up his attack as my body wildly thrashed about trying to get away from him. Another minute and I couldn’t handle any more.
“Fine!” I shouted. I’d say anything at this point to make him stop. “Your attack was well thought out.”
He sighed in relief, releasing me from his torture. “I know,” he said smugly.
I needed to keep walking, so that he didn’t attack me again. “Ooh a coffee stand,” I said, reading the sign and started walking in the direction it pointed towards.
One mocha flavored iced latte later, I paid the barista for the drink.
“You really drink a lot of caffeine,” Brian griped before I turned and read the sign above me: Sexy Secrets
“Come on,” I said, patting his arm. “We’re going to have a lot of fun.”
Walking around the store, I felt overwhelmed. There was a lot of stuff here. Did men like it all? No wonder Ryan left me.
“So, how does a woman know if she’s good in bed?” I asked Brian who was curiously hovering over me his eyes darting around the lingerie store.
“What are you talking about?” he asked and if I stopped short, he would slam into me he walked so close.
I turned toward him with a silk camisole in hand. “How does a woman know if she’s pleasing a guy?” I asked again.
“Don’t hit me for this answer,” he said, “but generally if he comes then you’ve done the right thing.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that. I’m sorry. Is this TMI?” I asked, trading out the camisole for a leopard-print padded bra.
He glanced from the bra to me, before answering. “We’re good. What is it that’s really bothering you?”
I sighed, knowing that Brian wouldn’t allow me to beat around the bush; he always mercilessly cut out the fat to reach the heart of the matter. I have always greatly admired that about Brian. I traded out the bra in my hand for one that appeared see-through.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day about once I’m with another guy realizing that Ryan is not so special. I’ve been thinking about that.”
“Oh, yeah, and what have you been thinking?” he asked, his voice animated.
“About being inexperienced. As I told you, Ryan was the only one. I mean I’m not totally clueless, I have watched videos.”
“What videos?” His eyes watched me intently.
“Well, I lied to Ryan saying he wasn’t my first. So, you know after the first few times, I figured I needed some help to actually make the lie seem believable.” I glanced back, pointing my finger at him. “You better not make fun of me,” I threatened him.
“I promise you that I won’t.”
I felt satisfied with his promise and continued. “Well, I watched sex videos for pointers.” His brows rose to his hairline. “You know, ways to heighten his arousal, how to give him better orgasms, positions that turn him on.”
“How to give him a better orgasm?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if it works the same on every guy. Does that mean I have to start over again?” I turned and saw a bustier, picked it up, and held it to my body. “What do you think? Too much?”
“It’s great,” he replied quickly.
“Really?” I glanced over the piece again. It looked uncomfortable, so I put it back on the rack.
“So, if Ryan was your first, does that mean that I was your first kiss?” he asked, wearing a devilish smile.
“You mean when you shoved your tongue down my throat making me gag, and grabbed my breasts like you were hoping they’d detach? I don’t consider that a kiss or a make-out.” I picked up a pair of lacy thigh-highs.
“Ouch. It was that bad?” he asked and I realized he looks a little wounded.
“I did leave the movie theater, didn’t I? Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve decided since you’ve dated nearly half of New York at this point that you’ve now got crazy skills now. Also, I’ve never told anyone about what happened on our date, and I never will.”
“See, this is a problem for me,” he said, arms folded.
“What?” I asked holding up a three piece set in my hands. “The green’s too much?”
“The green is fine. I feel it’s unfair that I can’t redeem myself. I am forced to have you walking around believing that I’m a terrible lover. That seems unfair. Plus, you weren’t that good of a kisser, either.”
“What?” I turned around with lingerie still in my hand. “I’m a good kisser. I may not be great at the other stuff, but I’m an excellent kisser.”
“Well, it has been five years. Lots can happen since then, but I’m still left with the impression that you’re not all that spectacular.” I glared defiantly, as he shrugged his shoulders. “Facts are facts.”
For a brief moment, I thought about planting one on his lips to knock his socks off. Instead, I took a step back, grabbing a blue pair of lacy boy shorts.
“What about these?”
He smirked, nodding.
But, my ego was now bruise
d, so I couldn’t help but ask, “What makes a girl a good kisser?” Did Ryan think I was a good kisser? Who cares, I reminded myself.
He glanced up at the ceiling before glancing back at me aloofly. “You can’t force passion or come across overeager. It has to be natural.”
“That sounds pretty vague,” I said, “There have to be techniques.” I saw a navy blue camisole. “Ryan would love this,” I said, rummaging through the rack to find my size.
“What?” Brian asked, looking off-balance.
“I wanted to make Ryan jealous by walking around the apartment in lingerie. Let him see what he gave up. You know…to mess with his head a bit.”
Frowning, Brian replied, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I ignored his comment, glancing down at a table full of different types of knickers. I held up a pair of red, silk panties.
"Do you think Ryan would find these sexy or trashy?" I asked Brian.
He looked at the underwear then at me, swallowing hard. "You should buy those."
I huffed. He needed to stay on task here, although I was not entirely sure what that task even was anymore.
"That's not the question I asked you."
"I don't care what the question was. The answer is that you should buy those," he replied with excitement in his eyes.
“Why isn’t that a good idea?” I asked, my arm on my hip.
“Because you claim that you’ll be messing with his head, but I think it’ll be messing with yours,” he said, looking concerned.
“Why do you say that?”
He strode over to me standing a breath away, his hands on my arms. He leaned his head in, our noses touching.
“If he did this to you, could you resist?” he whispered.
My mind completely blanked.
I released a shaky breath and sputtered, “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I know how I would feel afterwards. All I have to think about is how much I’d regret it later on.”
He took a pointed step away. “Yes, regretting it afterwards. That’s a problem.” I stood there with my heart pounding inexplicably.
“So, um…which kinds do you think he’d like the best?” I asked trying to figure out what was going on.
“Get all of it, get none of it, it’s up to you, Annie. Don’t buy what you think he’ll like, buy what you like. If you’re happy in it and feel sexy, it will show and he’ll find you sexy. While you make your choices, I need to go outside.”
“Why do you have to go outside?” I asked still clutching the silk panties.
“I need to go think about road kill, and my parents doing it, and the feeling right before I took a college exam,” he said, rubbing his forehead.
I glanced at him confused. “Why would you need to think about those things?”
“Annie, I’m a man. I have limits. Men only belong in this store if they are purchasing these things for their love as a gift, or if they’re here with their girl and it’s a sneak preview of what’s to come later that night. Neither is the situation here, so I’m going outside.”
“Fine! Leave you big baby!” I shouted. I couldn’t believe he was abandoning me over some silk and metal wiring.
Brian turned, shaking his head, and I heard him mutter, “The things that I do for you.”
As he turned to walk out, he stopped short. I glanced up from the perusing thigh-high leggings.
My stomach dropped. Oh, God.
Chapter Eight
“You didn’t think that I was going to miss out on an opportunity like this, did you?” Ben asked with George on his left winking at a woman, Max on his right looking positively murderous. He had clearly been dragged here.
“What are you doing here in New Jersey?” I blurted out. “You belong in New York.”
Ben placed his hand over his heart. “I wounded, Princess. Did you think I was going to miss out on you giving Ryan the proverbial middle finger? No way. If you listen to Brian, he’ll put you in some outfit my grandma would wear. I’ll make his tongue hit the floor. Trust me.”
I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “How did you even find me?”
He laughed loudly. “You forgot about your GPS tracking app?” I groaned in frustration. During college I got lost so frequently- one time needing to go to the book store three blocks away and winding up in Harlem- that I added an app to my phone that George, Ben, Brian, and Max could find me if I called to give me directions home. It had been brilliant all through college….
“Wait a minute! Your grandmother wears lingerie?” I asked, his words finally settling in.
He shrugged. “On occasion.” I stared, horrified.
He glanced around before picking up pink lace boy shorts. “You need a few pairs of these.”
I looked at the item he held up in confusion. “Where’s the rest of them?”
He smirked. “This is the rest.”
I tilted my head sideways, trying to understand.
“They’re crotchless panties,” he explained.
“What is the purpose of them?” I stared in disbelief. Ben fought back a chuckle. I pointed my finger at him. “Do not laugh at me.”
He cleared his throat. “Easy access. If you’re out somewhere with your guy and suddenly the urge just overtakes you, he can get in and out easily if you slip into a bathroom or a back alley...”
“No easy access. No access at all.” I shook my head so hard I thought it might come off my neck. “He will never see that again.”
“So, you’re just going to be an outrageous tease? Nice to see you branching out and trying something new,” Ben said, using his sarcastic tone.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked sharply.
He smirked, shaking his head. “Nothing. It means nothing.” I refused to let the matter go though, and as I started to press the issue, he picked up a blue silk negligee. “What about this for bedtime?”
I touched the material, soft between my fingertips. It was beautiful, so I nodded.
“That’ll cover me up, right?”
“Only one way to find out.” He leaned in closer. “Your place or mine?”
“I think you need this,” George said holding up a frightening piece with more wires than I ever thought were humanly possible to construct into one garment.
“That’s scary. I think I’ll start slow. Work my way up to that…whatever it is.”
George rolled his eyes and walked away.
“I think you should wear this,” Max said holding up a very respectable nightgown.
“What the fuck is that supposed to do? We don’t want his cock to shrivel up and fall off,” Ben said.
I glanced to make sure the size was right. Max clearly did not want to be there, and I felt bad for my friend.
“Thanks for the suggestion, Max. I’ll get it.” I took it from him and held it on my arm. I glared at Ben. “I’ll wear it on a night that you want to sleep over.” He just smiled wider.