Chapter 12: Chapter 12 – Natalie: Difficult questions

As I slipped my leggings off my feet and put my shoes back on, Hugh pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. When he didn't move further, I looked over at him. He was staring at my legs.

I mean, I kind of got it. There was a lot of my bare legs on display since my short skirt rode up so high, but he'd seen me literally wearing nothing but a bra and panties earlier. It was hard to believe that just my legs captivated him so much.

Then again, it felt really weird and embarrassing to take off my leggings with him sitting next to me, so I guess both of us weren’t behaving completely logically.

"There's one thing I don't quite understand," I said.

It took him obvious effort to shift his gaze to my face. "Yeah?"

"There's a part of you that wants me to do this, right? You want me to show my panties to other guys?"

He looked away from me. "Yes." His voice was quiet.

"I know there's nothing official between us or anything, but I was kind of thinking that it might be heading in that direction?"

He nodded, still looking away, and I let out a short breath, not realizing how stressful asking that question was until I'd gotten the confirmation.

'But," I said, "I kind of thought that guys were more, you know, possessive?"

He was silent for a moment, but, just before I was about to prod him to make sure he'd heard, he said, "I'm not much of a car guy, right? But let's pretend that I drive something like, I don't know, a Ferrari. It's expensive and fast and my pride and joy, okay?"

An allegory. I could deal with that. Much easier to talk about a car's body than mine. "Yeah."

"I would not ever want another guy to touch my car, not to run his fingers over the bumper, not to even clean my windshield, and certainly not to drive it. Never. That's just not something that I'd be into at all. But, when I drive past a group of guys and their eyes all swivel to follow the path of my car not able to look away? And imagine how envious they'd be if I let them take a look under the hood. God! Knowing that every single one of them wants my car but the car is all mine is just ... I mean, just imagining that is ... interesting. Does that make sense?"

That was at once both humiliating that he'd consider me his property to be displayed to make random guys jealous of him and also so - and part of me hated that I even thought this way - flattering. Up until this morning, I'd thought that no guy would ever be even mildly appreciative of my looks. Now, I've got Hugh saying that he likes my looks so much that he wants to show me off to others to make them envious.

"Does that make me a bad person?" he asked, his voice plaintive.

I realized I hadn't responded to him as I processed.

"Hugh, if I had no choice in the matter, if you had complete control over my actions and I absolutely could not refuse you, would you force me to do anything that I truly did not want to do?"

"Of course not."

"Exactly. You are not a bad person for having a fantasy about me doing something. You're not even a bad person for telling me about that fantasy, whatever it is. Even if your fantasy involves something that I absolutely will not do, as long as you make no attempt to coerce me into doing it, you're not a bad person. Clear?"

"Clear." His voice was small.

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He obviously felt bad about himself, and that hadn't been my intent at all. There was only one way to salvage this situation.

"I have my own confession to make," I said. "I like turning you on. I like you looking at me with hunger in your eyes. It makes me feel sexy and important and noticed. A big part of why I'm doing all this has nothing to do with the crazy impossible unbelievable system nonsense or because I owed you a favor; I'm doing it simply because some part of me craves the attention that you're giving me and that makes me feel needy and like a poor excuse for a modern woman and like you must be thinking I'm a complete floozy to drop my clothes for you so easily."

Okay. Maybe a little more slipped out than I had intended.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?" he said. "I keep thinking about how amazing you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life and how you're everything I could ever want and more, and, every time I'm forced to tell you about my deepest darkest fantasies that I'm positive will drive you away from me screaming, you just respond is such a positive manner. And you are feeling similar things."

Then he did the absolute perfect magical thing in that situation. He grabbed my hand and held it.

We sat there like that for several minutes, both of us smiling, before he finally let go.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice eager.

"This is really going to turn you on, isn't it?"

"So, so much."

"Okay."

Even getting out of the car was stressful. If the car door and other vehicles around hadn't mostly shielded me from view, my panties would surely have been displayed to the world right then.

Hugh came around the back just as I'd finished standing. He frowned. "Aw. I was hoping to open the door for you."

"You were hoping to look up my skirt as I got out."

He laughed. "Busted."

There he was, happy and confident Hugh. I liked that Hugh. Much better than self loathing and tentative Hugh. I liked him that way so much that I did something that made me feel like another person entirely had taken over control of my body.

I lifted my skirt for him.

Right there in the parking lot. I mean, I was between two cars and there weren't a ton of people around, but I showed off my panties to him right there in public where anyone could see. And I kept the skirt lifted for several seconds.

God! What had gotten into me?

We ended up walking hand and hand into the mall, my skirt swirling around my upper thighs.

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