Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)

This is a First Time story of two long-time friends who finally dare to let it happen. I tried my hardest to balance being extremely erotic with plausible. Two virgins have no idea what they are doing. They only have their desires to guide them. If you take the time, you will discover page after page of sex in here, but it does take time to get to. I, of course, think the build up is worth it, or I would have deleted the lot. I have no interest in wasting your time, but in the end for me it is the relationship that makes the sex erotic, not the other way around.

Oh, a last little note. Our female protagonist's name is Thuy. It's hard to tell you exactly how to pronounce this, but Twee, or just Tee, is pretty close. Just don't say Thooey. Have fun.

--

It was my mother who told me.

"Jennifer, I mean, Thuy's back from Yale for spring break, Jacob."

Thuy's our neighbor and an old classmate of mine from high school. We had been friends since we were children. One day when she was eleven, she had randomly decided her new American name would be Jennifer. I argued for something like Thea that would be at least close to Thuy, but she stuck with Jennifer and in time only her family and I were left using her original name. My mom sometimes accommodated me.

"That's cool," I replied as I stuck my hand in the Frito bag.

"When's the last time you saw her?"

"Uhh... I guess last summer. The Nguyens all went on that skiing trip over Christmas, so she wasn't here then."

"That's a long time for you two."

"Yah. But we message each other some during the semester, so I know what's up."

Actually, Thuy and I messaged each other every week at least, but I didn't need to go into that.

"Well, why don't you go check in?"

"Yeah, ok." I stuck another bunch of chips in the dip bowl and popped them in my mouth.

"You don't want to see her?" my mom asked as I munched away.

"Huh? What?"

"Well, you don't seem in any rush."

"You just mentioned it to me! Anyway, I'm not just going to go over there for no reason."

"Just go welcome her back. It's not that complicated."

"Mom. Guys do not just go to people's houses to welcome them back. I'd have to take a gift basket or something to complete the image. Maybe some doilies that I had knitted."

My mother sighed and went to stick her head in the fridge looking for something. "Guys don't ever get girlfriends either," she muttered under her breath.

My ears turned pink. Had she said what I think she did?

She tossed an onion on the counter and then suddenly fixed me with an I-cant-believe-you-actually-are-acting-like-this look. "I just don't get you two." "Who? Me and Thuy?"

She sighed exasperated. "For a kid as smart as you, you're awfully clueless sometimes. Yes, of course!"

I didn't really like where this conversation was headed. What had gotten into my mom? "What's not to get?"

"For two people who fit together like you do... it's just a waste is all. Are you scared? 'Cause I understand that, Jacob."

"Mom, we've talked about this before. There's nothing like that between us. We're friends. She dates. I date. We talk about our dates to each other." "Must be a one-sided conversation 'cause I haven't seen you go out on a date in some time."

"I date."

"You haven't gone out in weeks."

"I do have this whole full-time job thing with school at the same time."

"I know."

"And besides I don't tell you everything."

"Oh." She seemed pleased. "Really? Oh. Well, that's good. Sometimes I think you don't have any secrets. It's not healthy for you to not have anything to hide from me." "Well, don't worry. There's plenty of stuff you don't know about me."

"Good."

"Good."

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She didn't say anything.

"Well, all right then." I did have secrets, didn't I? Maybe I did need to get out more. "I'm gonna go play some basketball in the driveway."

"Seems like a good idea."

I was grabbing a ball in the hallway on the way out when my mother called after me. "Bouncing a ball really loud to get someone's attention is a lot more manly than knocking on a girl's door!"

I slammed the door behind me. What had gotten into her? Besides, I was really in the mood to shoot some hoops. What? She thought I was going to run around in circles trying to make a lot of noise to get Thuy's attention? I was 20, not 12. She must think I was a peacock or something. Maybe one of those lizards with the big fans on their neck. I imagined my lizard fans sticking out while I paraded in the driveway, scratching the dirt, then threw the ball up at the goal, rattling it good. What'd she know?

I caught the ball as it came down, ran to the corner, and sent it back up, swishing it in cleanly.

I had learned to shoot mostly because of Thuy. When we were eight, we learned that her parents would let her stay out shooting balls with me 'til it was good and dark. Thought it was good exercise for her instead of reading all the time. It wasn't the first thing we had come up with to spend more time together. We also competed relentlessly in school, always trying to get a better score than the other. I still remembered the first time I heard a slam on my window and looked out to see Thuy pushing some A in Reading or Social Studies against the glass. As we moved into high school, we still competed, but it was entirely unspoken. I loved it when she got an award I was up for.

Thuy was finishing off her second year of Yale now, while I was still at home, taking classes at the U. I had spent a semester at Cornell, but then my mother got sick, and I was needed at home. I spent about a month resenting it, until I discovered my mom crying over my old acceptance letter at the kitchen table. I got over it.

The ball came down through the net, so I ran threw it, down the baseline, and then did a quick pivot and shoot. In again.

We were a funny pair, Thuy and I. My family had been in Arkansas at least four generations that we knew of, while Thuy and family arrived in the house next to us when I was six, all the way from Vietnam, via a year in Minnesota. In fact, they lived on the last lot we had sold off from the family farm. It was suburbia now with one white wooden house and screen porch, mine, and a row of nice little brick ranches, hers.

I did a couple quick free throws as the ball came out. Both went in cleanly.

I wasn't a great basketball player being a short six feet, but I had learned to shoot. Our team made it to the state semis with me as mostly an outside shooter. Coach kept me out there, because I had never figured out how to get past the six- foot-ten guys. But give me a couple inches of free space and the odds were it was going in.

I took the ball again, pretended to pass, then ducked to the outside line. The center tossed the ball out to me from the double team on him. The clock was ticking down. I heard the crowd counting. 5. 4. I launched it up. The ball hit the rim, went flying up in the air, and then fell in with a little swoosh.

"I always said you could make that shot 19 times out of 20."

I turned to Thuy with a big grin. She stood not three feet from me in low jeans and a white top, with her trademark hair that cascaded to the middle of her back. The corner of her mouth was turned up in that little smile she had been showing me since she was six.

"Hey, you," I replied. "20 out of 20 would have been better."

Thuy sank cross-legged on the driveway. What could be more home than this? "I can't believe you are still beating yourself up about missing a shot. It was freaking high school, and if you hadn't made the rest of them, we'd never have even made the state tournament, much less lose by one in the semis."

I tossed the ball in the net and let it bounce away. "You know," I said sitting. "My goal in life was to peak at 18 and find eternal glory in the school trophy case. With that other guy, and the other one with the funny shorts. But since I missed, I'm gonna be forced to do something else with my life."

"That's gotta suck."

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"I was going for brain-dead DirecTV addict at 19, but now I'm 20 and gotta keep thinking and crap."

"I hates thinkin'."

"I hates rabbits," I replied in my Yosemite Sam voice. I brushed my brown hair back out of my eyes and we looked at each other.

"How long-"

"How've you-"

We both spoke at once.

"You go," I said.

"Naw, you."

"Uh-uh."

"I ain't talkin'."

"That's your Yale education? 'I ain't talkin'?"

"Don't get on me. I learned English from you, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She'd been blaming me for every English mistake she ever made for years. When Thuy first arrived next door, she only spoke Vietnamese. Her dad spoke English some, but he wasn't around much, so it was up to six-year-old me. Since she was now publishing essays in magazines and such, I guess I did an OK job.

"It's 'cause of you, I have this accent that goes over so well in the Asian-American Advocacy Consortium at school."

"Hell, don't put that one on me. Your accent is stronger than mine is and you know it."

"I know it, but you always turn so lovely pink when I tease you. I could charge admission and show off the Great Glowing Boy." Thuy started laughing. "See! See! You're a light bulb," she declared and started singing the tune to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

"Good to see this hasn't changed."

"I'm always here to help, Jake."

"Not enough," I thought then realized I'd said it out loud.

Thuy got quiet suddenly. "That's not fair."

"I didn't mean anything. It was just a thought that got out."