Chapter 10

Chrissy was evidently in a confessional mood, but I was a bit worried. I thought back to that day. Well, of course, I’d known exactly what Chrissy was up to when she came into my room. She’d wanted me to tease me with her body. It was just an escalation in the long game we’d been playing. I’d encouraged her to sit on the bed, teased her about the pillow... “Well, of course, Chrissy. I knew you wanted to show off. And you knew I wanted to see you, like I always did. That’s why I made you sit on the bed and said you didn’t need the pillow, remember?” “Yep. But I actually wasn’t expecting it to go so far so fast.” Oh, shit, I thought. She regrets it. “Chrissy ... I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have gone over to sit next to you, huh?.” She looked astounded, gobsmacked really. “What? Don’t be ridiculous, Alex. Of course you should have.” “So, ... well, then, I guess I don’t know what you’re getting at.” “Oh, Alex, nothing really, I just was thinking about how I’m just a total perv. Like, it was really exciting what we did tonight. I’ve never come so hard in my life. And it was really exciting showing my body off to you that first night.” With a sudden flash of insight, I realized what exactly the problem was. Chrissy was an exhibitionist. I’d realized that already, obviously. It’s a big kink for her. An exhibitionist likes to show off to people who shouldn’t be seeing their body. Your brother shouldn’t see your body, so it’s exciting showing off to him. But your lover should see your body, sees it all the time, and we’re lovers now, so the kinkiness of it has worn off. Chrissy can’t scratch the exhibitionist itch any more, and she misses it.

Sensing that something very important and irreversible was about to happen, I carefully chose my words. “Chrissy, you like showing off your body, right?” She nodded. “But we’re kind of used to being naked together now, so...” She didn’t say anything. “I mean, every time I look at you, I can’t believe how beautiful you are. I love” – I started to touch parts of her body as I listed them – “your curly hair, your beautiful eyes, your little nose, your tufty armpits” – she giggled – “no, seriously, they’re totally awesome. And your tiny breasts drive me wild. And ... well, you’re really beautiful, you know, Chrissy?” She grinned. “I sure am, and you are too. We’re a really good-looking pair.” I demurred: “I’m no great prize.” “No, you really are amazing. Take a look at yourself in a mirror some time. We must be pretty hot together, huh?” I thought I knew where this was going. She probably wanted to fantasize about people watching us. But I was absolutely unprepared for what came next. She said, tentatively: “I sometimes wonder what Mom thought of us when she saw us.” My heart nearly stopped. I felt an unpleasant shock run through my body and found myself utterly at a loss for words.

Finally, I stammered: “M ... Mom? I mean, shit Chrissy. I know she saw us, but I sure hope she tried to wipe that image from her mind.” Chrissy looked a little sad. No, I’m lying. She actually looked a lot sad, and I felt instant regret, but also intense confusion. I didn’t like the way this conversation was going. It was bringing up uncomfortable memories of when I kept replaying the shame of being caught by Mom when I masturbated, even though I always tried to shove the intrusive thought out of my mind. I tried to soften my tone. “Chrissy, I didn’t mean that the way it sounds. I mean, of course, we’re both really good-looking. Especially you. I’m sure almost anyone would be really excited by seeing us – I mean, I bet people would love to spy on us.” I was trying to acknowledge her kink, maybe even see where we could go with it. But Chrissy was adamant. “I just like to imagine Mom seeing us and thinking that we’re a really cute couple, all right, Alex?” My heart was pounding. I’d inadvertently done the last thing I ever wanted to do: made it clear that I was shocked by what Chrissy had admitted to me. She was upset, and rightly so: I was shocked, but I had no business kink-shaming her. I’d failed, badly, to handle something that Chrissy had probably had to work up a lot of courage to put in words. I tried to salvage the situation: “Chrissy, let me tell you the truth. I’ve thought about that too. In fact,” – I hadn’t intended to admit this, but the words just poured out of me – “actually, I’ve imagined the time Mom caught us a lot of times. And it turned me on.”

My cheeks were burning red. That was far more than I’d intended to say, but Chrissy didn’t seem fazed. “Me too,” she said. Encouraged by the fact that I might not have just totally fucked up our relationship, I tried to think back to the times I had envisioned that scene. My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest. I could barely get the words out: “So, I guess, a couple of times when we’ve been together, I’ve wondered what Mom would think if she saw us then.” “Oh, God, yes, “ said Chrissy. She had a slightly wild look in her eyes. Encouraged, I went on. “She’d probably think she had a pair of really beautiful kids.” Chrissy’s mouth was half-open, but she said nothing. I was getting an erection again. “She might even get excited looking at us. I mean, you’re so hot, looking at you would get anyone excited, even Mom.” I was trying to make light of it, sort of, but Chrissy was evidently getting very turned on by what I was saying. She was breathing rapidly and her face looked as flushed as mine felt. I seized the advantage: “It would turn her on to see you getting turned on. She’d see that your nipples were getting hard” – they were – “and she’d feel that her nipples were getting hard too.” I’d literally never once thought about Mom’s nipples, and it wasn’t a totally comfortable feeling. “Under her dress,” I elaborated. “That blue sundress that she wears. She’d be wearing it, with nothing underneath” – as far as I know Mom never went around without underwear, but whatever, this was a fantasy for Chrissy’s sake (only for her sake! I insisted to myself) – “yep, and her nipples would harden and poke through the dress as she spied on you. On us” – I corrected myself – “as she watched us, her two children, her two beautiful children, lying totally naked on the bed.”