The Dinner Party. NON-FUTA

Amber was stunned. John had been a friend for a few years now. Solid, dependable. He'd been her rock more than once. A few years older than her, he took her under his wing when she was still a teen, but she never saw him as more than a protective older brother. That was years ago, though, and now she was 19, in college, and struggling with an introversion that made it hard to open up to new people. When she joined him for dinner, and a few drinks, she hadn't expected the wine to go to her head. Hadn't expected to start talking. But she did, and now he knew her secret.

And what did he do with this information? He took it in stride, of course. As he always did. But then he made her that offer, and that look in his eye, that tone of his voice, made it very clear that he was serious. He wasn't joking, he really would do this. His eyes searched hers, as he patiently waited for an answer.

She looked at her wine glass, and realized she was tipsy, but she wasn't as intoxicated as she thought she was. She understood the risks, and she wasn't feeling nearly as rash as she was a few minutes ago when she told him. Any choice she made, she couldn't blame it on the alcohol, and she knew it. She also knew that if she told him later she changed her mind, he would be OK with that, even if he had already set things up. John was like that, never judging, always accommodating.

She took a sip, and set the crystal down gently, before looking up into his eyes. "When should I be here?"

..........

It was four thirty in the evening when she rang John's doorbell. She was nothing if not punctual. Her heart was in her throat when he let her in with his calming smile. He saw the hint of panic in her eyes and she saw the concern in his. "Are you sure?"

She tittered nervously. "It's a little late to back out, isn't it?"

"No one is here yet. Not for another forty minutes or so at least. I can still cancel."

He might have put a lot of work into this. People were expecting this, and yet she knew he would. In a heartbeat, he could be on his phone, and in that calming, almost monotone delivery of his, he could shut the whole night down. "No. I'm scared. But I told you the truth. I want this."

He smiled again, and it touched his eyes this time, something she rarely saw, and he took her by the arm and led her in.

The living room was warm. All earth-tones in the furniture, with a stunning red carpet with golden trim, and several couches and love seats, all arraigned in a semi-circle, facing the fireplace. John was wealthy, and the room showed it off in a very restrained manner.

"Do you need to take care of anything first?"

"No. I think I'm ready."

He sat down, and she realized he intended to watch her undress. She blushed and covered her chest with her hands, a futile action as she was already clothed. He chuckled. "What is the point of being shy, now?"

"I just...." she lowered her arms to her side. "I didn't expect you'd watch me undress."

He was still smiling... that same warm, comforting smile, but his voice, while kind, took on a certain seriousness. "Amber, you opened up to me. You told me that you wanted to be seen, that every time you thought a stranger on campus was looking at you it made you feel like you never had before. When I joked about putting you on display, your perked right up. You wanted this. Now, whether I leave the room while you strip, and then come in and help you get situated, or you strip for me now, I'm going to see everything, anyways, so I would rather sit here, and watch you."

"Do... do you want me to dance?"

He laughed. That was a sound she didn't hear often; his humor usually contained. "No. I've seen you dance before, silly. We both know you have no rhythm."

Anyone else, and she'd swear she was being picked on, but she knew John. She'd known him for six years. He'd always been honest, but kind. A big brother she'd never had. A mentor, a friend. So she smiled at his joke, but then stopped and realized something. In all those years, she didn't know, didn't think, he'd ever looked at her with desire before. Sure, she was a kid at thirteen when they met, and he a young man at 21, but in the years since, he had always been more a brother than anything else. He

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