Wetlook World Forum

by "Sunfish"

For months I'd had a crush on Ari.  Her real name was actually Arielle, but only the teachers called her that; all the kids called her Ari.  She was a good student but never tried to call attention to herself, seeming to have a quiet self-assurance that made that unnecessary.  She was also very sensitive and empathic, with the kind of confident gentleness in her eyes that often made her the only one who could approach a frightened animal to comfort it.  As if that weren't enough, I also thought she was just about the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, certainly the most beautiful in our high school senior class, and I thought about her all the time.

The problem was, I was shy.  Really shy.  Just thinking about asking any girl for a date was enough to send the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy, and it would take me a half-hour to work up the courage to actually pick up the phone.

That didn't make any sense, but then such fears seldom do.  Even though I excelled at academics and was liked by both the teachers and the other students, my lack of both athletic ability and social confidence was an albatross I felt I might never be rid of.

Then, finally, I worked up the nerve to ask Ari out.  I knew I'd hate myself forever if I didn't, and after spending a week of afternoons reading self-help books from the library to build myself up, I conquered my anxiety just long enough to make one phone call.  That was sufficient, because she accepted my invitation to go see a movie.  Of course, once we hung up I realized that I'd been at least as afraid that she'd say "yes" as that she'd say "no" - but no matter, I'd passed the first hurdle.

When the big night came, in spite of my nervousness I managed to get through the date without messing anything up too badly.  My only real foul-up was forgetting to release the parking brake when I started driving her home, but that was quickly corrected after a couple of blocks when we both noticed a funny burning smell.  When we arrived at her home her parents were both there, but they were very nice to me and had the tact to make themselves scarce when it was time for me to kiss Ari good-night.  It was just a little peck, but that was more than I'd dared to hope for - little did she know (or perhaps she did) that I'd never kissed a girl before.  I didn't sleep well that night, or the next few nights, since now I was just as concerned about the chances of getting a second date as I had been about getting the first one.

I needn't have worried.  She accepted my second invitation, and the third, and the fourth.  Our dates were certainly far from passionate, but by the third one we were at least holding hands.  One or both of her parents were invariably in the house when I brought her home, but they always invited me in for a snack and I eventually realized that they approved of me.  I finally started to relax enough to actually enjoy Ari's company and get to know her, and she seemed to be warming to me as well.  I suppose it shouldn't have been surprising, since Ari was also both quiet and academically gifted, so we actually did have a lot in common, but it was still a wonder to me that she kept accepting every time I asked her for a date.

Our fifth date, a couple months after the first one, is where the story gets interesting.  When I arrived to pick up Ari it was still a bit early, so her Mom invited me in for a while.  Her Dad was out of town on business, so Ari and I sat at the kitchen table while her Mom puttered about the kitchen, all three of us chatting.  At one point I excused myself to use the bathroom, and as I neared the kitchen on my return I overheard Ari's Mom say, "You really like Scott, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," I heard Ari giggle.  "He's awfully shy, but he's so sweet, and he's kind of cute, too.  Most of the guys at school are all wrapped up in themselves, but he's nice."

From where she stood at the sink her Mom could now see me in the hallway, but Ari didn't yet know I was there.  I stopped in my tracks, realizing how embarrassing it would be if I barged into the kitchen now, but not sure of what to do next.  Ari's Mom shot me a quick smile to let me know she saw me, and replied, "He seems nice to me, too, and he's smart.  I think you should keep him."

My face turned red at this, but somehow I summoned the presence of mind to tip-toe silently back to the bathroom, open and close the door noisily, and then clump down the hallway making sure my approach would be heard this time.  When I re-entered the kitchen Ari showed no sign of knowing she'd been overheard, and her Mom just winked at me surreptitiously.  "You kids had better get going if you don't want to miss the beginning of the movie," she told us, and Ari and I were soon on our way.

I felt rather guilty about eavesdropping on Ari, even though it had been completely unintentional, but at the same time I was almost delirious knowing how she felt about me.  I held her hand right from the beginning of the movie, and at one point leaned over and whispered in her ear.  "Ari?"

"Yes?"

"I really like you."  Immediately I was overcome with feelings of incredible clumsiness.  So many romantic things I could have said, and that's all I could think of!

"I really like you, too," she whispered back, and my feelings of inadequacy dissipated instantly, replaced by the warm cocoon of acceptance.  The feel of Ari's warm breath against my ear for that one short instant gave me the courage to put my arm around her, and she leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder.  For the rest of the movie I felt that I was the luckiest guy alive, and for the first time the end of our evening loomed as a painful separation rather than a release from the tension of worrying about somehow botching up the date.

When we got back to her place, the front door was locked.  "That's funny," Ari remarked as she got out her key, "Mom usually leaves it open when she's here.  Mom?" she called, as we entered the hallway, "Are you home?"  There was no answer.  We went to the kitchen, where Ari found a note on the refrigerator.  She scanned it, then handed it to me with an awkward smile.  It read:

"Ari, Mr. Miller's car broke down and left him stranded a couple hours away, so Mrs. Miller had to go pick him up.  She won't be back until at least midnight, and I'm at their place keeping an eye on their baby.  You know Dad and I don't normally allow boys in the house when we're not home, but we trust you and Scott so we'll make an exception tonight - but only until 10 PM.  Love, Mom."

I glanced at the clock.  We'd gone to an early show, and it was only 8:30 and just barely dark.  There was a long pause, as we both tried not to make too much of having the house to ourselves for a whole hour and a half.  "Do you want a drink?" Ari finally asked, and we picked out some juice and pop.  The dishwasher was full of dirty dishes, so the only clean glasses left were on a high cabinet shelf, and I froze and watched as Ari, her back to me, reached up for them.  She was wearing a lightweight, long-sleeved, navy-blue blouse and a snugly fitted pair of matching dark blue jeans, and as she stretched to reach the shelf those jeans molded themselves to her derriere and the outline of her bra showed through the back of her blouse.  Ari was slender but not skinny, and the effect was most attractive.  Best of all, at the apex of her stretch her blouse pulled loose from where she had tucked it in, exposing a thin band of skin above the top of her jeans, and the very top of a pair of white underpants peeked out.  Even my usual nervousness was not enough to suppress a certain automatic physiological response, and I turned quickly away so she wouldn't notice my gawking.  We picked out some munchies, brought them into the living room, and sat down.

I had never been in this situation before and had the distinct impression that Ari hadn't either, so we both felt a bit uncomfortable.  At first I was afraid to even sit too close or hold her hand again, for fear of coming on too strong, but once we started talking we both loosened up and I moved next to her on the sofa.  The conversation turned to dream interpretation, and Ari asked me, "What about daydreams?  When you don't have to worry about reality and can dream about anything you want, what do you dream about?"  I blushed, and Ari giggled.  "Oh, come on Scott, you can tell me."  I knew exactly what my answer would be, but I couldn't quite get it out.  Ari became quiet, took my hand, and squeezed it.  "No, really, I'd like to know.  It's ok to tell me.  It's just fantasy, and I promise I won't tell anyone else."

"I daydream about you," I said, embarrassed by my own forwardness.

"There's nothing wrong with that," she reassured me.  "It's flattering for a girl to know that a guy thinks about her."  Then she blushed a little.  "Even if it's a physical fantasy, I don't mind.  It's just make-believe, and I know you care about me."

"I daydream about you being my steady girl," I continued, afraid of sounding desperate but equally afraid of never again having the nerve to say it, "but you're so beautiful, you must have lots of guys after you.  You could have the captain of the football team if you wanted."

She was quiet for a moment, then said, very gently, "Maybe the captain of the football team isn't who I want."  There was another long pause, and I felt that she was working up the courage to say something else.  "And actually, most of the guys at school won't ask me out anyway," she finally added.  "My girlfriends say the boys think I'm too smart, and that I should pretend to be dumber."  She sounded very vulnerable, and it was clear she didn't often open up this way.

"That's ridiculous," I exclaimed, my sense of outrage momentarily overwhelming any self-consciousness.  "Smart girls are much more attractive.  I like you because you're smart, at least that's part of it.  Any guy who can't see what a catch you are doesn't deserve you!"

"I'm so glad you feel that way," she said with obvious relief.  "It's important to have friends you can be yourself with."  There was another long silence, then she smiled at me and looked down at the floor.  "I can't be your girl unless you ask me."

Well, even in my inexperience, that hint was too obvious to miss.  I reached into my pocket and pulled out my class ring, which I'd been carrying with me on every date, even without much hope of ever mustering the nerve to offer it to her.  "Ari, I'm crazy about you, and I don't want to date anyone else.  Would you like to go steady?"

"Yes, Scott," she said, beaming as she took the ring from me.  "I'd love to go steady with you."  I just sat there next to her, incredibly pleased with myself, and looking like the Cheshire Cat.  "What are you grinning at?" she said, smiling.

"I think it's customary to seal this with a kiss," I said.  "Now that we're going steady, I don't think we have to wait for a good-night kiss."  Then I added, uncertainly, "Do we?"

"No, I guess we don't," she replied, smiling back at me and closing her eyes.  I leaned over and kissed her, much longer than I ever had before, and she made no move to cut it short.  It wasn't as smooth as in the movies of course, and we both fumbled quite a bit figuring out where to put our hands, but it was nevertheless one of those moments one will always remember fondly.

When we finished, neither of us really knew what to do next, so I asked her, "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"We did my fantasy, now what about yours?  What do you dream about?"  She giggled, and shook her head in the negative.  "Oh, come on now, I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours.  I promise I won't laugh."

She just sat silently, so I decided to wait her out and said nothing.  Finally she said, "Cleopatra."

"Cleopatra?"  I asked.

"Yes, I dream about being a queen, and not having to go to school or help with the dishes or do the laundry."  Making a grandiose gesture, she elaborated, "In my daydream there are servants to do all the chores, and prepare my food, and fan me with palm fronds, and anoint my feet with oil."  She giggled.  "I know, that's pretty silly."

I thought for just a moment, and made a quick decision.  "Take off your shoes and socks," I told her, "and lie down on the sofa.  I'll be right back."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"You'll see," I told her, motioning her to stay where she was.  Then I went to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" she called out a couple minutes later.

I ignored the question.  "Are you shoes off yet?" I called back.

"Yes," she replied as I returned to the living room, "and my socks too.  Now what on earth are you going to do?"

"Lie back on the sofa like I told you," I instructed.  "The queen is going to have her feet anointed."

"You're funny," she laughed, but she stretched out on her back, then gave me a sly look.  "What about the fans?"

"Well, we're fresh out of palm fronds, but I'll see what I can do."  I moved over to the living room windows and opened a couple of them.  The spring evening was still quite warm, and a soft breeze blew in, carrying the sweet scent of some flowering shrubs.  Then I took her foot in my hands and began rubbing in the safflower oil I'd found in the kitchen.

"The oil's warm," she said, surprised.  "Oh, it feels nice that way."

"Cleopatra would have loved microwave ovens," I told her.  "Now close your eyes and relax."  For the next ten minutes I massaged her feet, and Ari just sighed.  "You forgot something," I said as I finished.  "Wait right here."  I paid another visit to the kitchen, then quickly returned.

"Ok, what did I forget?" Ari asked me.

"Peeled grapes," I answered.  "Servants always feed peeled grapes to their queen."

"We don't have any grapes in the house," she said suspiciously.  "I put away all the groceries yesterday myself, so I'm sure of it."

"Close your eyes and open your mouth," I told her.  She hesitated.  "Trust me."  She hesitated again, then did as I asked, and I dropped in a little colored cube.

For a second her facial expression alternated between shock and puzzlement, then she burst out laughing so hard she almost spit out her treat.  "Jello!" she gasped.

"It's the closest thing I could find in your fridge, and it saves a lot of time not having to peel it."  When she stopped laughing enough to lie back down I fed her the remaining few cubes, then suggested a scalp massage.

"That wasn't part of my fantasy, either," she pointed out.

"Maybe it should have been," I replied, and started running my fingers lightly through her hair.  She clearly didn't object, so I began to massage in earnest, and she became even more relaxed.  After a few minutes, heady with our newfound level of intimacy, I let my fingers drift over her face, lightly stroking her skin, and then down to her arms.  I certainly wasn't going to suggest removing any more clothing at this point, so I stroked her arms through the thin material.  The front of her blouse had parted a bit between two buttons, the gap giving me a small but tantalizing glimpse of a smooth white bra underneath, but I decided not to press my luck by touching her anywhere else.  When her arms were done I ended the massage.

"That was nice, Scott," Ari murmured.  "Thank you."

"You're most welcome, my Queen."

(to be continued)