Nature of Eroticabydrteetho©
Please enjoy this, my entry into the 2014 Nude Day Contest.
"Christopher!" Evelyn yelled after I picked up the phone and said hello.
She only called me Christopher when she was upset or angry. That fact, combined with the timing of the call -- late at night on a weekday -- and her tone of voice, told me that my neighbour and very good friend had very serious business to discuss.
Still, I couldn't help myself. "What's up, Evie?" I cheerfully asked, using my favourite nickname for her, one that I came up with many years ago.
"Not now, Christopher! I'm NOT in the mood."
I gulped. "OK, Evelyn. I understand, and I apologize. What's on your mind?"
Evelyn sighed. "No, Chris, I should apologize to you. I shouldn't have snapped at you like I did. I'm just... I'm really at wit's end right now, and I don't know what to do."
"Don't worry about it. What do you need?"
"I need you to talk to Tamara."
I covered the receiver with my hand so I could let out my groan without Evelyn hearing me.
Tamara was Evelyn's daughter and only child. Soon before Tamara's birth, her biological father, the guy who got Evelyn pregnant, decided he didn't want to be a part of their lives anymore. He ran out on the two of them the first chance he got.
Which was fine by me. That bastard was lucky to run away when he did. Evelyn told me about all the shit he pulled on her, including screwing every new secretary at his office he could get his grubby little hands on while blaming her for getting pregnant. The asshole claimed he never wanted kids, but everyone who knew the story knew his claim was an out-and-out lie. At the end of it all she was more than ready to kick his ass into next week, and she definitely would have done so if he hadn't fucked off. And I would have made damned sure I finished the job.
Evelyn and I are next-door neighbours, and we've been so for almost twenty years. We live in a small subdivision just to the south of our city's downtown block. The neighbourhood is comprised of old war-time houses. The houses are small but they offer more than enough space for a single person like me, and a two person family such as Evelyn and Tamara could also live in one comfortably.
The community as a whole has always been great. People took the time to get to know each other. We all regularly invited each other over for summer barbecues and holiday parties. We also looked out for one another, helped each other with our various home renovation projects, and in more serious times we assisted each other in times of need. As a result I have become good friends with nearly all of my neighbours.
I developed a rapport with Evelyn in particular, especially during and after all the nastiness with her scumbag ex. I commiserated with her and made sure others in the neighbourhood did whatever they could to help her deal with the combined burden of raising a young child and working to support the two of them. This was never a problem. Many neighbours were more than willing to assist because Evelyn and her daughter were, and still are, very well-liked in the community.
In return, Evelyn has always been there for me to help me when I was down. She has been a constant source of support and someone I could talk to about anything, whether it be minor problems at work or more serious issues, like my failed efforts at finding love.
Those failed efforts, unfortunately for me, were numerous.
I attracted women easily enough. I definitely had the desire and the (ahem) proper means to please women sexually. At the risk of sounding too egotistical, no woman I was with ever complained I was lousy in the bedroom.
It was all the other stuff that proved to be the downfall of these relationships.
Sometimes it was the woman's fault. Often enough it was mine. Other times... well, I don't know anymore. Chalk it up to bad luck, fate, karma... whatever the hell you want to call it.
Eventually, I tired of spending so much energy looking for love and getting nothing but burned in the end. The fallout from all the abortive attempts left me an avowed bachelor. I became accustomed to and enjoyed the freedoms of being single, and I had long since accepted my lot in life.
Many people over the years asked why Evelyn and I never became a couple. I have spent a lot of time thinking about why this is the case, and my answer now is the same as it's always been.
I have no idea.
She's certainly a very pretty woman, and I've never been shy in telling her so. In return she has complimented me on my looks many times. I suppose with everything we went through, it caused me to be so wrapped up in either helping her with her problems or seeking solutions for mine that I never took the time to think of her in romantic terms.
We came to a definitive conclusion on this topic on a Saturday many years ago, when Tamara was at a friend's sleepover birthday party. We polished off a couple of bottles of wine and discussed many things well into the night. When the subject of our relationship came up, I explained to her how I felt, and she told me she felt the same way I did. For similar reasons to mine, she never thought of me as a potential romantic interest. We were just friends; very good friends, but nothing more than that.
And we were OK with that arrangement.
Evelyn did go on dates of her own, but for the most part she decided to forego her own needs and desires for companionship in order to focus on raising her daughter. She took on what I consider to be the most difficult responsibility anyone could ever have; being a single parent. She handled it so well, and really did a great job raising Tamara.
Even more remarkable was her doing so without much assistance from the rest of her family. It wasn't that they didn't care. The problem was Evelyn's path in life had taken her well away from her hometown, where her parents and siblings still lived, all the way on the other side of the country. Other than making a few special visits to provide her temporary relief, and sending their love and support via phone, e-mail and the occasional delivery of care packages, there was little they could do to help.
As I mentioned my neighbours and I pitched in when we could, but all we could reasonably do for Evelyn was offer moral support, a sympathetic ear and occasional babysitting services. Realistically, she relied almost exclusively on herself to raise her daughter.
Despite those challenges, Tamara grew up to become a good, well-adjusted young woman. That she did so was a real credit to Evelyn's love and determination to do right by her.
I was the closest thing to a father figure Tamara had, and I tried my best to use that status to help her in whatever ways I could. It was a privilege to watch Tamara grow up. She turned nineteen in March, just a month ago. The occasion of her birthday celebration made me wonder where the years went. She chose to stay at home because the university in town had everything she wanted, including almost all of her closest girl friends from high school who had also chosen not to leave the nest just yet.
Tamara really was a sweet kid. She was intelligent and hard-working, yet also knew how to cut loose and have fun when the time was right. She had a way of asserting herself and letting her independent spirit shine through without being mean or disrespectful.
In her later teen years Tamara used that independent spirit of hers to test her mother's boundaries. Sometimes Evelyn handled it well, but other times it really got to her.
Lately, the two were clashing more often. Evelyn tried to clamp down on her daughter's increasingly challenging behaviour, invoking the "my house, my rules" parental clause, while Tamara really wanted to experience life and the freedoms promised to youth by the world.
More and more I was being asked to intervene in these disputes. It was necessary, I guess, given my role in their lives, but I didn't feel comfortable doing so because I knew no matter whose side I chose, there was a better than average chance the "losing party" would be upset with me.
Choosing a side wasn't always easy, either. Sometimes Evelyn was overly protective of her daughter, sometimes Tamara needed to calm down and recognize her mother had her best interests at heart and, quite frankly, knew better than her. Sometimes both were true at the same time.
I had managed to help the two keep the peace so far, but sometimes it was a close-run thing.
"What does Tamara want this time?" I asked Evelyn as I tried to stop living in the past for now and focus on the present. In truth, I wasn't expecting this to be much ado about anything. I was sure Evelyn would respond with some minor request from Tamara that was causing both of them to needlessly overreact.
Was I ever wrong.
"She wants to do a porn shoot."
I nearly dropped the phone in shock. That was way beyond anything Tamara had ever asked for, and probably the last thing I expected Evelyn to say.
Even worse, a dark part of my brain was reminding me of a relevant fact, one that wasn't helping me to deal with this revelation. "Tamara is fucking gorgeous!" it whispered to me in a gleeful voice choked thick with lust.
Tamara was the same height as her mother, at 5'10", taller than average for a woman. She also shared the same hair colour as Evelyn, a rich cocoa brown, but where her mother had long since cut hers short and sensible, Tamara's hair cascaded in waves down past her shoulders. The look of warmth usually found in her hazel eyes matched her friendly persona, but they also had the ability to sparkle with seductive mischief.
She was very active and fit, starring in a number of sports in high school before concentrating on volleyball in university. Over the last couple of years she developed sensuous curves in all the right places. Her ample breasts sat high and proud on her chest, and the swaying of her ass was enough to hypnotize any straight man that had the pleasure of walking behind her.
In short, she was a healthy, beautiful specimen of young woman.
And lately, she wasn't being shy in advertising that fact to the world.
I need to be clear here. It would be both grossly unfair and grossly untrue to say Tamara was dressing or acting in any way like a slut. I would have been enraged to hear anyone say so.
It was very fair, and very true, to say that, lately, her skirts and dresses were shorter, her jeans and shirts were tighter, her swimsuits changed from one-pieces to bikinis, and more soft skin and tempting cleavage were put on display.
I wasn't sure if Tamara was doing anything purposely to attract my attention. It didn't really matter, because without even trying she was enticing me way too much. I had trouble thinking coherently when I was in her presence. I can't count the number of times I pictured her body pressed against me as I took her...
"Chris?" I heard Evelyn ask. "Are you still there?" I had to shake my head to clear these inappropriate thoughts from my mind.
"Sorry," I said. "It's just... wow, you stunned the hell out of me."
"How do you think I felt?!" she retorted. I could only guess.
"Is... is this a joke?" I asked. "Please, Evie, please tell me this is a joke."
"God, I wish!" Evelyn answered. "It's not, though. She's serious about this. I really need you to talk to her and help her change her mind. She seems bound and determined to go through with it, but I can't let it happen. I mean, only bad people run these kinds of operations, right? She could get into all kinds of trouble with booze and drugs before she knows what hit her. She could get forced or blackmailed into doing more shoots and more degrading, filthy acts. I can't even think that my baby could... god, I'm so worried, Chris!"
Evelyn sounded on the verge of tears. My heart went out to her. I was also worried about Tamara. What could she possibly be thinking?
"Of course I'll talk to her, Evie. When do you want me to do it?"
"Can you come over tomorrow night?" she asked, sounding like she was trying to pull herself together. "I'll cook us dinner and you can have a chat with her afterwards."
I smiled, in spite of the situation. Evie was a great cook, and a bachelor like me always did appreciate a free meal, no matter how it came about. "You got it!" I said.
She told me to be there after I finished work and I agreed. After we hung up I went to bed. My head was spinning, filled with thoughts about what I would need to say to Tamara, concerns over all the bad things that could happen if we allowed her to have her way... and images of what her fine young body would look like in the nude.
Sleep definitely wasn't easy to come by that night.
I expected two things to be true for my dinner with Evelyn and Tamara. One, whatever Evelyn cooked that night, it would be delicious. Two, the dinner conversation would be extremely awkward.
I was right on both counts.
Evelyn made a killer lasagna. It was always my favourite dish of hers, and tonight's version certainly didn't disappoint.
But if I was hoping for the type of interesting discussions the three of us usually had, I would have been sorely disappointed. I think the most any of us said at the dinner table was when I asked Tamara to pass the parmesan cheese. She briefly glanced at me while she did so, after which she promptly resumed staring at her plate.
After we finished, Evelyn shooed us out of the kitchen so she could clean up. Tamara and I retired to the living room. Now was the time for me to talk to her, to get her to see the light, to convince her that her idea to perform a porn shoot was an absolutely terrible idea.
I was more than nervous, not at all sure if I could succeed, and very worried about what the fallout might be. But I made a promise to Evie and I owed it to her to get the job done.
Tamara sat there, looking expectantly at me. Wearing a form-fitting yellow t-shirt and skin-tight blue jeans, her hair done up in a ponytail and her cute feet bare, she looked all too much like the pretty girl next door she was. She managed to look innocent and sexy at the same time. It distracted me greatly. I didn't know where to start.
I tried to break the awkward delay by easing in to the matter at hand. "How are things, Tamara?" I asked. "Anything new?"
"Chris? You don't have to pretend, you know. I know why you're here."
Just like that, any plan I had about what to say to her flew right out the window.
"I... I don't know what you mean," I stammered, still grimly trying to stick to my story.
Tamara didn't buy it. She just rolled her eyes and said, "Come on, Chris. I'm nineteen, not nine, remember?! I'm not the naïve little girl you used to know."
"Fine," I sighed. "Since you are so grown up and smart now, you realize what a bad idea doing a porn shoot is and why you need to seriously reconsider."
She let out a growl of frustration, stood up and paced back and forth, repeatedly clenching and unclenching her fists.
"How about this?!" she snapped. "How about people listen to what I actually say! How about, for a change, people also realize I'm an adult and I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions!"
I noticed that even when angry she looked hot. Then I cursed myself for noticing that.
Evie, it seemed, had heard my brief and miserable failure to talk some sense into her daughter, because she chose this time to enter the room and try to rescue the situation. "Tamara," she said, "can't you see just how terrible this decision is? How dangerous it could be in so many ways?"
Tamara groaned and rubbed her temples, as if trying to stave off a stress-induced headache. I guessed this wasn't the first time she had this argument before. She took several deep breaths and collected her thoughts. I interrupted her by asking if I should leave now.
"No," she replied. "I want you to hear this... you and Mom."
Evelyn and I exchanged a look. She sighed and took a seat next to me. Tamara then fixed her eyes on us and spoke what sounded to me like the beginning of a well-rehearsed speech.
"I want you both to let me explain. Chris, I trust you, and you're the closest thing I have to a real father in my life. You've always given me good advice, and you've been there to give me a man's point of view when I've really needed it. It's important to me that you understand exactly what I want to do and why I want to do it.
"And Mom, please listen to me... and I mean really listen. Every time I ask to have a serious, honest discussion about this you immediately shut down and refuse to hear me out. I understand you're worried about me getting into trouble, I really do, and I love you for it. But I promise, I'm not being reckless! This isn't the start of my downward spiral, OK?! I know exactly what I'm doing.
"I'm not ashamed of my body. I know I'm good-looking, and I'm proud of it. I'm also proud to be an empowered young woman. I want a platform to show people my beauty and confidence in myself while I'm still young. I've given this a lot of thought and I've done a lot of research. I can prove to you that what I want to do is much safer and more tasteful than you realize.
"So I really need you both to keep an open mind and listen to what I'm about to say. Once I'm done, if you still think I'm in the wrong you can tell me, but for now just hear me out. Please?"
I was smart enough to keep quiet for now. I figured it would be best for me to take my cue from Evelyn. She looked genuinely conflicted. I'm sure she was still convinced Tamara's plan could only end in ruin and heartbreak. At the same time, the maturity and sincerity of her daughter's words appeared to give her pause.
Finally, she said, "OK, Tamara. I will listen. I can't promise to like what I hear... but I will listen."
"Thanks, Mom," Tamara smiled. How ironic it was, given what she was about to say, that I caught a glimpse of the little girl she used to be in that smile.
"And you, Chris?" she asked. "You'll listen, too?"
"Of course I will," I replied.
"Good!" she exclaimed. She turned back toward her mother, causing her breasts to sway ever so slightly, and ever so enticingly. I could feel my cock start to swell, which was definitely NOT what I needed to have happen right now. I leaned forward and rested my arms in my lap, hoping to show the proper level of interest in what Tamara had to say while also hiding my arousal in a way that would not draw attention.
"First thing," Tamara started, "you're both wrong in saying I want to do porn..."
"Honey, you want to get naked on camera," Evelyn interrupted. "That IS porn."
"Mom, what did I just say?! Listen to me! I'm NOT doing porn! I'm not going to have dirty sex on camera with some random creepy guy, OK?! What I want to do is model for a website that specializes in erotica."
"Explain the difference to me."
"Porn is showing graphic sex to help people get off. Erotica represents healthy expressions of sexuality. The site I want to model for specializes in a form of erotica, solo nude modelling. The focus is on the woman and how beautiful she is. Obviously they spend a lot of time showcasing her outer beauty and sexuality but they don't neglect what's inside. They respect their models."
"What would they actually have you do?" Evelyn asked nervously.
"I'd pose for pictures and video, both partly undressed and then fully naked. I'd probably massage my breasts and my butt, I'd definitely masturbate... you know, stuff like that. All perfectly safe and harmless."
Tamara wasn't shy about describing the process, I'll tell you that much. Hearing her talk about it wasn't exactly helping my arousal problem. Especially the masturbating part.
Meanwhile, Evelyn looked somewhat relieved. As relieved as a mother could be after hearing her daughter admit she is willing to get naked and jill herself off on camera, at least.