Chapter 5

Sunday. Game four. The possible end of the Red Sox' season. And the day I'd have to show my boobs to a guy for the very first time.

Honestly, I was more upset about the Red Sox.

Not to say I wasn't nervous--I was, believe me. A lot. But I think I'd come to terms with it.

I did some homework and called Vinnie about two in the afternoon. "My turn to supply the supper. What do you like on your pizza?"

He laughed and said, "Anything. As long as it includes sausage and mushrooms and doesn't include anchovies."

"Cool. I like that, plus onions."

"Onions are good."

I got the pizza and went to his room shortly after five. We ate the pizza, chatting happily. However, when it was done he got all serious again, like he had last night. He kind of faded out of the conversation. So, I finally asked, "Vinnie, is something wrong?"

"Yeah." He took a breath. "Freddie, I think we should cancel this bet. I don't think it's a good idea to keep going with it."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, it just, I don't know..." he faltered.

I got my back up a little bit. "You don't think I can go through with it, do you? You think I'm scared to take my bra off, don't you? Well, I'm not! I made this bet and I'm not going to welsh out on it!" I don't like to be doubted. I got in trouble when I was a kid because I never could refuse a dare. "Don't coddle me!"

He looked up at me--and he didn't look happy. "Fred, that's not it. That's not it at all. I know you'd go through with it. You've been a real trouper right through the whole thing. I almost feel guilty that the Yankees won three games so quick, because you've been so good about it. I'm sure you expected more time, even if the Yankees did win." I sighed and nodded. "But you've been great. This isn't about you, really."

"Then what's it about, Vinnie?"

"It's about me," he sighed. "Look, when I first proposed your penalty for the bet, I didn't know you. I thought you were sexy and I figured it would be cool to have a look," he said with a little grin. I had to chuckle. "But I didn't know you. Now I do. Two things happened. One, you're a hell of a lot sexier than I even realized. Two, well, the thing is, I like you. A lot. And it's not just attraction, though it is that. The more time I spend with you, the more I realize how cool you are. I mean, I like like you, OK?"

My God, he actually said it. I felt like I was going to faint.

He took a breath, then went on. "However, there's a problem. I can't do this. I watched you sit in your underwear last night. The Yankees were kicking ass and I barely noticed. All I could see was you. And I have to tell you that after you left I needed to take one hell of a cold shower." WHAT?!?!? Because of me? Unbelievable.

He kept going. "Look, Freddie, I really am a gentleman. This bet was about looking, not touching. But I can't do it. You're going to take your bra off and I'm going to have to sit here like a good boy and it's going to drive me crazy. That's why I want to call off the bet."

Wow.

I thought for a minute. What he had said burned into my brain. What did I want?

I realized that in a lot of areas of my life, that that was a question I'd never had to confront. It wasn't about what I wanted--it was about what I was allowed. And this area--boys--was one of the big ones. It hadn't mattered what I wanted.

Now it did.

I probably didn't think about it long enough. I was probably just reacting. But react I did. I reached for my shirt and pulled it over my head. I quickly shucked my pants. Then I reached around for the snaps on my bra--the purple one today--and went to unfasten them.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Vinnie asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes. Which is why I'm doing this now. If you're going to put moves on me you need to do it before the game starts because I'm going to want to watch the game. So, you have two hours." With that, I shrugged out of the bra. And questioned my sanity. Oh, well--I was fully in it now, wasn't I?

Vinnie let out a little gasp. "God, Freddie. God. You're serious."

"Yes. Now get over here on this couch before I change my mind. You're not the only one that's been taking cold showers."

"I'm not?" he said with a little grin. Then he dropped the grin and looked at me. "You really are beautiful, Princess." I just blushed. He got up off his chair and moved over next to me on the couch.

"One thing," I said. "The rules of the bet are still in effect." He looked at me, a question in his eyes. "The panties stay on tonight."

"OK, Princess," he said with a laugh. Then he leaned in, and gently kissed me.

I almost expected him to go right for the you-know-whats. I expected him to be all hands since I'd given him the go-ahead. He wasn't. He just kissed me and kept his hands gently resting on my arms.

As I've said, I wasn't completely inexperienced. I'd been kissed. Not like that, though. I mean, wow. And even though I barely knew what the hell I was doing, Vinnie seemed to enjoy it when I kissed back.

And he did this for a while, gradually turning me into a puddle of goo. I mean, goodness! I expected to be manhandled, and instead I was getting the kiss of all time. It took quite a while before I felt his hands move--and they started out just gently resting on my stomach. I waited for them to move. He was still kissing me. I waited for his hands to move. I think I was moaning into his mouth before his hands moved off my stomach.

God, he knew what he was doing.

By the time his hand finally slipped up my stomach and wrapped itself around my boob, I was ready, believe me. I wasn't even nervous at all anymore. And it felt so damn good. He just kept kissing me as he rubbed my boob and flicked at the nipple with his thumb. I almost came right then.

Unfortunately, it was an almost. And, yes, I do know what it is--I did say I'd played with myself. I only got close from him playing with my boobs. Shit. Did I say the panties had to stay on? Shit.

I felt a little self-conscious, though. I was practically naked and he was fully dressed. I at least wanted his shirt off, so I started tugging at it. He chuckled and backed away, then helped me get his shirt off. God, he was a hunk.

And I was wrong about the back hair. Chest hair--oh, yes. I actually liked that.

He went back to kissing and fondling. Then he took it a step higher--he backed away from the kiss, and lowered his mouth to my boob.

Oh. My. God!

It was fantastic. It was torture. He was actually getting me right to the edge just by sucking on my boob. Who knew?

I was so damn close I had to do something. So I kind of let my hand drift down there. It was kind of lingering at the waistband to my panties. I was trying to be sneaky. That was futile--I quickly felt his hand brushing mine away.

"You said the panties stay on. You didn't say my hands had to stay out of them," he pointed out. I could've argued, I'm sure. Maybe I should have. Uh-uh, no way. I let his hand slip into my panties.

And it took him three seconds to find my hot button. And not much more than that before he set it off. Whammo!!!

As the shattered pieces of my brain reformed themselves, it occured to me that I had actually had an orgasm that wasn't self-induced. Wow. How the hell did this happen so fast?

I opened my eyes and looked up at Vinnie. The big galoot looked mighty pleased with himself. Well, OK, he should. But as I looked up at him, his grin faded a wee bit and he asked, "Was that OK?"

I could only groan back. That he laughed at. Again, couldn't blame him. That was just too good.

As I regained coherence, I caught a glimpse of his crotch. He still had his pants on, but the bulge was unmistakable. As I thought about that, he asked again, "You sure you're OK?"

"Oh, Lord, I am most definitely OK," I said. "Way better than OK." I glanced back down. "You, however, look like you're headed for another cold shower."

He suddenly got serious. "No, Princess, I'm perfectly fine. No worries. You got to get up, though, because I need to hit the bathroom." I got up--I'd been leaning on him--and he got up off the couch. "Be right back," he said with a smile.

After he left, it dawned on me--he wasn't going to pee, he was going to, er, do himself. I didn't understand. I was going to offer to help him. True, I didn't have any idea exactly what I was going to do to help him but I was going to offer, and figure he'd tell me. He took off before I could. Why?

Because he was trying not to overload you, the reasonable voice in my head supplied. He knew that was your first, and figured you didn't need more piled on.