Thalia leaned back in her chair deeply, taking another slow sip of red wine. She looked straight ahead at the miniature christmas tree and the lights they had just put up together, knowing he was looking at her. That made her feel powerful. She kept cool and expressionless. She knew that was how she would stay in control, though she did wonder about him. Why hadn't he ever made a move on her? All this complaining about his girlfriend, all of her hints, all of their texts about masturbating. They talked about sex together more than either of them did with others. She decided to have a little fun, maybe lubricated by her wine. He was weak, she had always known this. Didn't she have needs too? Was it her problem if he acted dishonestly? He's a free adult, if he decides to cheat, that wasn't her problem.
"You know," she started, knowing this would go exactly where she wanted it to. "If you were in an open relationship, we could fuck." She looked over at him, and saw his stunned and pained look. She met his gaze and saw him glance at her chest, covered only by a thin black curve-clinging tank. Her breasts were small, especially on her tall and slim frame, but still pert, round, bouncy, and firm, like little oranges. She never wore a bra and was proud of that. The discomfort, the extra step to undress. No thanks. Her tits just stayed up and she liked that what you saw with her was what you got.
She twirled her pink hair idly, and reached for her wine glass, letting the silence torture him. She felt just a slight pang of guilt but it vanished as soon as he spoke.
"Whaaaat. You cannot say that to me." His voice was laced with torment and dramatized agony, and his heels pushed against the couch cushion for added effect. Thalia tried not to smile at this, but inwardly felt victorious.
"Wwwwwhy not?" Her voice rose, feigning innocence.
"You're like, killing me."
"How..." she continued, amused. She watched his hand adjust his black jeans just below his stomach, bunched at the knee but tapered and tight elsewhere. She let her eyes glance upward at his arms. For a super thin guy, Aaron's arms were meaty by comparison. You could clearly see the outline of his shoulder, as if he were wearing some kind of pad. She'd always liked his shoulders. His tight black knit shirt wasn't hurting either. Every contour of his chest was visible. He always dressed that way, or at least seemed to whenever they hung out. She liked to imagine he was showing off for her.
"You can NOT say that to me. It's the worst..." Aaron insisted, playfully. This seemed to be as far as he could go, and maybe hoped that if he doth protested too much, she would make the move for him. He was teetering at the cliff's edge of violating his relationship and just couldn't jump. He wanted her to push him over so he could blame her in his mind.
"Well, I mean, I've thought about it before. Like when we were at Emily's in that kiddie pool together."
"You thought about me then?"
"Well, yeah." She said it matter of factly.
"So... why didn't anything happen? God this is fucking killing me." He remembered sitting opposite her in Emily's backyard, just the two of them, and stealing glances of her breasts barely contained in a frilly bikini.
"Um. You had a girlfriend Aaron. I wasn't going to do anything with that."
He made some sort of pathetic groaning noise. "I just cannot believe this."
She looked over at him, and he was smiling and writhing at the same time. "I mean, we could have a threesome. I'd do that with you." She decided to up the ante just a tad.
He covered his face with a tense hand, pulling on his skin and digging in. "We could? Really?" He moaned a bit.
