By Nicai de Guzman
It could have been any text message, or even a punctuation mark, but today it was “Are you busy?”
“No. Want to meet up?” I replied right away.
It was the last day of work (read: crunch time!) before Christmas break. I had to oversee some props delivered back to the studio from the set… but since the hottest, most good-looking guy on campus texted me, I was obligated to jeopardize my budding career in television to spend a few hours with him.
Let’s call him A. We’ve been friends since our first year in the university, ever since he sat behind me in English class. After one semester of him teasing me with every boy in the room except himself, and me forgiving him for that time he borrowed my phone only to return it with a gallery full of his photos, we remained friends.
I had a boyfriend who was a senior that time, and I was your typical, stuck-up popular girl. A had a goofy haircut and a bad posture. It took us three more years of awkward friendship, lots of hinting, moments of missed chances, before we stumbled, drunk, into his basement studio and gave each other carpet burns from too much… friction. Pushing and pulling. Pumping and pirouetting.
By this time, A ditched the haircut, and I ditched my boyfriend. He became leader of various student activity groups, played drums for some indie bands, and worked out in the gym until he reached sex god status. When we graduated, half the girls on campus were lusting after him.
Our stumbling into dimly-lit rooms carried on after graduation, even when we started seeing other people. Neither of us talked about our other partners, but of course we heard about them from common friends.
Pretensions aside, I always felt a little stab in my chest when common friends talked about him and some new girl.
I can’t blame our friends. They don’t know about us and I preferred it stayed that way. Whenever A comes up in our conversations, I had to smile, I had to feign interest, and for my sanity, I had to suggest a change of topic. All these were part of an elaborate costume I had to wear to mask how I really felt about him.
“Oh yeah, I bought some new stuff,” I told him when we met up later that day. We were cuddling, still fully clothed, on yet another bed, in yet another hotel room.
That glint in his eyes, that usual smirk. “What is it?” he asked.
“You remember that film we watched the other day, and the girl was wearing those corsets?” I stood up and walked to the overnight bag I brought. “I found one just like the one she had.”
I took it out of the bag and showed him the black, lacey, pearl-studded corset.
“Sample! Sample!” he said as he clapped his hands. I rolled my eyes and went to change in the bathroom.
I was confident of my figure, and he has seen me naked so many times before but it was the first time I would wear a corset. Of course, I’d worn a nurse’s outfit, a Japanese schoolgirl’s uniform, a trench coat (with nothing underneath) and some other stuff, but this was the first time for a corset.
“Well?” I was blushing when I walked out of the bathroom. “What do you think?”
He just sat there, gaping at my body. “Uh… What do you want me to say?”
I appreciated the gawking, but I wanted a verbal confirmation that I’m still the gorgeous bitch he wanted back in college. I pretended to be mad so I frowned as I slid next to him on bed. I turned away from him and covered myself with the sheets.
He groaned. “Oh c’mon, what do we do now?”
“Sleep,” I said. He groaned some more.
“You know, it’s kind of unfair that I’m the only one who stripped into this and you didn’t,” I mumbled from under the sheets.
“Oh, that’s all I have to do?” He immediately took off his shirt and tossed it onto a nearby table. He did the same with his jeans.
“And now?” His bulge was extremely difficult to ignore.
“I told you, we sleep,” I said.
He slid under the covers and we spooned. He was silent for some time then I felt him rubbing his erection on my ass.
“I love it when you wear thongs,” he whispered.
I had to cover my mouth so he wouldn’t hear me moaning. After some time, I started to follow the rhythm of his rubbing.
“I thought we were just going to sleep?” he asked, teasing. He kissed my nape and bit my shoulder.
“Fuck sleeping,” I said. I sat up and took his underwear off.
I blowed him and he got even bigger and harder in my mouth. When I heard his panting get faster, I stopped. I slid my thongs off and mounted him.
I let my moan escape this time.
“Came already?” he asked.
I nodded and bit my lower lip. “‘You’re so big…”
He smiled. He squeezed my nipples through the corset. I let out another moan.
“Can you still move?” he asked, with a hint of concern in his voice.
“Yeah… I’m kinda sensitive though,” I said.
So I kept on riding him, but every once in a while I’d stop and come again.
“Now that’s unfair,” he said. He pulled me down to his chest and pumped from underneath me. He pumped faster and faster, then I heard him say “Shit!” and pull out.
I looked down and there was cum all over the front side of the corset.
He steadied his breathing and saw the cum graffiti on the lingerie. He apologized and I said it was okay.
“I brought more stuff to change into, anyway,” I said.
He pinched my cheek. “You went to that lingerie store again? The one that sold the costumes and stuff?”
He laughed. “I seriously wonder if you think you’re going to a fashion show when you’re just going to see me,” he said.
I pouted. “But I like changing into these costumes…Oh, I also brought that Lolita nightie I wore for my creative shot. And I can put my hair up in pig tails. I know how much you like that.”
I got up and took off the corset. I went to my bag and got my nightie and a pair of red scrunchies.
“I’m just not sure if this look would work on my hair since it’s a lot shorter now,” I said.
I was about to enter the bathroom when he called me.
“Come here, just stay beside me for a while,” he said.
So I cuddled up next to him, and surprisingly, he held my hand.
I wouldn’t call it an uncomfortable silence, those minutes we just held hands. It felt so… natural. Organic. Like lying there, side-by-side while holding hands and completely naked was the most natural thing in the world. I felt like I was on the hem of an epiphany when my complete nakedness shocked me. In this interstice when I was supposed to change into my next ensemble, when I was completely naked, I allowed him to command me.
“I…” he started to say and then sighed.
“You’re really cute,” he finally said. “Even without those costumes.”
Then he pulled me close and kissed my forehead.
I could feel my cheeks getting hot. “Well, you’re really cute, too… And if you’ll excuse me, I have to change into this nightie.”
My heart was racing when I entered the bathroom. What was that about? But I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it, whatever it was.
I checked the clock and counted the hours before our time was up.
The truth is, I was sad we only had several hours to wear these costumes. Just several hours, several excuses, so we can hide from the world, from our partners, from our friends… and pretend to be whoever we want to be.
If we’re lucky enough, or brave enough, maybe even ourselves.#
Photo via Phillip Ritchie Photography[?]