My Best Friend: The University Years 3
Although the Christmas and New Year holidays were a fun filled and carefree period for me, I was raring to get back to University, and the first week in January saw me back at the small University city where I was studying.
As I came out of the railway station who should I find waiting for me, but my friend Alicia Sands, who seemed delighted to see me, and gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. Given our history as lovers, some people may wonder why it wasn't something a bit more passionate, but we were always aware that Alicia was married and a, 'respectable,' lawyer in the city, and so we always played down our connection in public. We went to a nearby coffee shop because she had something to tell me. She seemed very excited about it, whatever it was, and so a few minutes later we were at a table tucked away in the corner.
'Okay Alicia, what is it.' I began the conversation. She stirred her coffee, obviously thinking about what she was going to say, after all, she was a lawyer, and they rarely say anything unless they've thought it through first.
'Did I mention that I have a brother, an older one?' she added. I shook my head.
'No, no you didn't, but it somehow never came up in conversation while we were making love, so you've never mentioned it before,' I said jokingly. She smiled, but again she hesitated before continuing. I waited patiently, knowing she would get to the point one of these days.
'Oh well,' she said, 'you know now! I don't get on with him; he's a fair bit older than me, and absurdly religious, goes to church twice on a Sunday, that sort of thing. Anyway, at Christmas, it was almost impossible to avoid him, and all the family met up at his house on Christmas Eve. His wife is really nice, although totally under his spell, but his step-daughter Naomi, is another kettle of fish. She has a bit of spirit, individuality even, although she keeps it in check around him.
She's a lovely girl, very attractive, and we've always got on really well. I felt a bit sorry for her too, nineteen years old and having to live with my brother. My husband was going off on one of his business trips right after Christmas, and so I invited her over to stay the night once he had gone, so she could get away from the interminable preaching.
We have a spare bedroom, and my brother could hardly object, since the intent was to have a girly night at home, and not go out on the town.' I listened attentively, nodding at the right bits, but saying nothing, and she carried on with her story.
'A few days later, the 27th of December, she came over with a small overnight bag, and we had a nice time. After supper, I opened a bottle of white wine, and she confessed that she wasn't much of a drinker, rarely going out unless a family member was with her. She told me that she didn't quite, 'fit in,' with most of her acquaintances due to her up-bringing.
I sensed a bit of rebellion, and I poured her another glass of wine, which she tried to refuse, but it was too late, it was already in her glass. We chatted for ages, and she began to get a bit giggly. I suggested that we get into our nightclothes, and make ourselves comfortable, almost like a pyjama party, and we went to change. I was in the middle of changing when the phone rang; it was just my husband telling me he'd arrived safely and the hotel was fine, blah de blah.
Naomi knocked quietly at the door which was ajar, and I signalled her to come in. He spoke for a few more minutes, and eventually I got him off the phone. Naomi was sitting on the bed all this time, and I got the impression that she didn't quite know where to look with me being in rather skimpy underwear. As I looked in a drawer for pyjamas, not something I normally wear, she spoke.
"You have such lovely underwear," she said, and I thanked her for the compliment. "I always have to buy, 'granny knickers,' and, 'substantial,' bras. Nothing really nice and feminine like your lingerie," she went on. I found the pyjamas, and unhooked my bra, throwing it on the bed beside her. She picked it up and felt the material. "That's so soft, it feels really nice," she said, looking at me, or rather, my tits.
I pulled on the pyjama tops, slipping my panties off too, again throwing them on the bed, and again I noticed her watching me. Of course, as you know, I'm shaven, so there was no hiding place for me.'
'We're about the same size,' I offered, 'why don't you try on some of mine to see what it feels like.'
'Really? Oh I don't know, I couldn't,' but I persuaded her she could and took some of my nicest lingerie out of the drawer. I chose a killer set in black, almost sheer, and very, very skimpy. If she was going to wear nice lingerie, it might as well be damned sexy too. I also found a packet of unopened hold up black stockings to complete the ensemble.
She began to unbutton her pyjamas, and took off the top to reveal a really substantial bra, in beige. It looked really dull, like something my granny would have worn, and she had the good grace to blush. 'See, I told you. My mother always comes shopping with me and insists I wear stuff like this. It's horrible and I hate it, but nice lingerie is seen as frivolous and sinful. I'm getting really fed up of this religious crap,' she spat out. As she spoke, I unclasped her bra, and it fell away. She had really nice breasts and I told her so. She got all flustered then and blushed furiously, trying to cover herself with her hands.
'Don't be silly Naomi,' I told her. 'I've got breasts too, and yours are rather lovely. You've nothing to be ashamed of with those beauties.' She giggled nervously and blushed again. 'Besides, how are you going to put on this bra, if you don't take your hands away?' I reminded her. She reluctantly dropped her hands away, and I got a better chance to have a look at her.
