Trapping Each Other

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are above 18.

Author's Note: This is an unusual story for me to have written. I'm not sure if it'll please people who've read and liked my other stuff. So heads up! It's kinda vanilla at the beginning and gathers pace quite slowly. The highlight is the kinky situations rather than the actual sex most of the time. But it does end with a bang. Happy reading.

Relationships are messy. He was pretty quick to realize that. He had observed his friends with their girlfriends and seen the possessiveness one was subjected to when one had a girlfriend. They called a hundred times in a day and got angry if their call was ignored.

'When a cup of tea is what you want, why buy the entire tea shop?' was his refrain.

The cup of tea he wanted was female companionship without all the 'girlfriend' drama and he had figured out the perfect 'friend-brother-zone' to get that. The trick was to feminize oneself a bit in their company.

Confused? Let me explain.

In college, he met a girl he wanted to get close to. He got himself introduced through mutual friends and made it appear quite random. In reality he would've planned out the first meeting meticulously. But he knew that you shouldn't appear too keen the first time. Women sometimes take keenness as a sign of wrong intentions.

So he held himself back the first time. He smiled warmly and held eye contact, but didn't speak much. He'd smile every time he crossed paths with her.

He'd observe the times when she goes to the cafeteria and one day randomly meet her there. He'd say hi and exchange a few words.

"Hey, I'm getting a samosa... would you like one?" he'd ask. He'd make it appear as if he was merely being polite but that was his first move.

They say a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. But he knew in reality men are mostly well-fed most of the time. It's women who starve themselves to keep their shape. And he had a special knack to sense if a girl was hungry. Call it sixth sense or whatever. Offer her some small snack that won't add too many calories and she'll happily accept. Then conversation blooms with each morsel of the samosa.

He knew better than to talk about himself. You must listen 80 percent of the time and talk only for the rest 20 percent.

Talkative men won at men's status games... they won girls' hearts momentarily. Patient men won their trust.

Next time she sees him; she has a wide smile on her face. She comes to him to talk about stuff. Her defenses are down. He plays the part of the good listener and the occasional snack-buyer and before long he has her phone number and she's calling him in the evenings and telling him really personal stuff about herself and her family. He smiles to himself hearing her talk. He knew he was now a really close friend. It was time to push forward.

By this time, he knew the names of the creeps and oglers she didn't like. So if he saw any of them, he would lead her away from there.

"Come, let's go someplace else... the library?" he'd say out of the blue.

"What? Why?" she'd ask.

"Nothing..." he'd say, "just that... well... that creep you don't like is coming this way."

"Oh," she'd say, stealing a glance in the direction of the creep, "let's go then." They'd then go to the library and study. In her mind, he was slowly gaining the image of a protector... kind of like a brother, but not entirely. She trusts him more now. The duration of their phone calls increases.

He continues to play the role of listener/snack-buyer/creep-radar. He waits to put the next part of his plan into motion.

You see one day she's bound to wear a little loose t shirt or kurta and it's bound to slip a little on her shoulder exposing her pretty bra strap. When that happens, he seizes the moment. He acts a bit flustered and pretends like he's trying not to look at her. She probably won't realize her wardrobe malfunction at first. He pretends to try to gesture towards it but his attempt is clumsy and she doesn't get it. Still acting flustered, he looks around to see that no one's staring and then as respectfully as possible he pinches the cloth and pulls it to cover the strap.

"Oh" she comprehends now.

"Sorry" he says awkwardly, "I didn't want people to stare... and I didn't know how to tell."

There is a bit of an uncomfortable silence between them now. It was the first time their interaction entered a quasi-sexual territory.

He continues the flustered act, "Sorry, I shouldn't have...". He then excuses himself.

He knew she'd call before long and then they'd talk about it.

I hope you get the drift... his modus operandi was carefully plotted.

"Hi" she said.

"Hi" he replied, "uh... listen, about earlier... I'm sorry."

He had laid the trap. Now all he had to do was to wait and let her talk. She'd probably thought it over and felt better about it now. After all, he was only trying to protect her modesty. She probably thought it cute that he was flustered and couldn't bring himself to say 'you're bra strap is showing'.

"It's okay" She said, "infact... thanks."

"Uh... okay," he replied, "I was nervous that creeps would start staring... and I couldn't bring myself to say something to you. I thought maybe you'd think I was a creep for noticing... I don't know... what should a guy do? You know, when his friend's... uh... uh strap is showing?"

She laughed at his words.

"You can say it you know," she said, "it's not a bad word."

He hesitated.

"Okay fine, if a friend's bra strap is showing you gesture to her or tell her privately" she said.

"Okay, understood. I'll just tell... and not be all weird and do what I did today."

"Hey, don't worry. You did nothing wrong. When I think about it, I realize that you tried to gesture to me and I didn't get it.... So... I'm glad you did it. It only shows you care about me."

He smiled audibly at that. And like that he was getting closer and closer to the center of her circle of trust. It wouldn't be long before she started asking his opinion on fashion and outfits.

She'd call him and say, "Hey, I'm at the mall... and I'm confused between two tops."

"Ok, so..."

"So..." she replied, "I've sent you pictures of both... tell me which one's better"

He checked her message and see two pictures... her wearing the two tops. Both would look good on her, but he deliberately choose the more conservative one. He knew that this was not simply a matter of two tops. She was asking him indirectly if it was okay to wear a bit of low neck or sleeveless. She wanted to wear the hotter tops and you were the guy who she trusted the most to be honest.

"Why that one?" she asked when you chose the more conservative top among the two.

"Looks good on you" he said.

"The other one's not good?" she asked tentatively. He was quiet.

"Ok, I'll get the one you picked then" she said a little dejected.

"Wait" he stopped her.

"What?"

"It's not that the other one doesn't look good. In fact, that one looks better on you, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?"

"It's just that... you're gonna get catcalled a lot if you wear that to college." He offered.

"Really?" she asked. She was sort of fishing for compliments. Compliments from men feel good, if he was just a platonic friend.

"I think so." He said, acting coy. She liked how squeamish he got about this topic. He knew she'd like it. That's why he pretended.

"What if I wear this one only in Malls and Multiplexes?" she asked.

"Well, you don't have to worry about creeps troubling you in those places."

"Ok, I'm getting this one. Thanks for helping me choose. You're the best!" she said.

Progressively, she'd start needing his help or opinion with everything. Even with the crushes she had on certain boys. He knew this was risky. He'd have to play it right. Other than being caring and protective, he'd never expressed any romantic interest in her. He didn't want to either.

He didn't want a girlfriend. He had decided way back that he wanted only a wife, when he was ready for it. Before that time arrived, he didn't want the headache of commitment. He liked her. She was attractive too. But he didn't know if he would want to marry her in a few years.

He wanted female companionship. She provided that now without any strings attached. He also wanted material for his masturbation fantasies. Constant proximity with her allowed him to look at her body without her notice. A bit of bra strap here. The smell of her perfume. The way her body moved when she walked. He'd add more to these visuals in his memory and make mental movies for when he pleasured himself. He was weird like that. He didn't watch porn or movies with nudity. He took inspiration from real-life interaction with real women who were oblivious to his inner thoughts.

That was his kink. Secret sexual fantasies about women who had no idea that he saw them that way.

But her having a crush on another guy was a strict no-no. But he couldn't appear to be disturbed or jealous of these crushes of hers for then she would know he was attracted to her. So he would play it cool.

But he'd find some devious way to lessen her infatuation towards these boys. He'd invent some story about them, painting them in a bad light and gradually wean her off these crushes.

His agenda was clear... to keep her hooked to his friendship while steering her clear of any crushes on other boys and even himself while he waited and evaluated whether he was sure he wanted to marry her. In the meanwhile, use her gullibility to gather memories for his masturbation fantasies.

After the first bra-strap incident, whenever the pretty blue or black or red straps peeked out, he made sure to whisper to her to adjust it. After a couple of times it became normal for him to tell her to pull her top over her bra straps. The awkwardness fizzled out.

One time, they were carrying a pile of books when her bra strapped started showing. It was some kind of transparent material. Not the usual black or blue or red.

"Hey, you've got a little something showing" he gestured with his face.

She couldn't do anything since her hands were full. There was no place to keep the books either.

"Could you... uh..?" she asked.

He transferred the pile from his right hand on top of his left hand. Then he pinched her top at the shoulder and pulled it over the strap. Then they resumed their walk.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah" she replied.

"What was that? Plastic?" he asked. It took her a moment to realize that he was asking about her transparent bra strap. She took his devious question to be genuine curiosity of a shy boy who didn't know much about girly things.

"Oh... it's what we wear with off-shoulder tops" she said, "you know, so that it doesn't stand out and look odd."

"Oh..." he nodded in comprehension.

"Sometimes, I'm amazed at how little you know of these things!" she said.

"How would I? This is the first time I'm hearing of this thing" he replied. She laughed. His goal was to make her feel like she was educating him.

"In that case, it would really blow your mind to know there is a kind of bra with no straps!" she joked.

Oh! How gullible you are! He smiled inwardly, but acted confused.

"What!" she asked.

"How would that even work!" he pretended genuine curiosity.

"You're such an idiot!" she joked.

That night he got a text from her. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the picture he sent her. It was the picture of a black strapless bra. Her own bra! He had scored a major win. He congratulated himself. But he crafted his reply carefully.

"This would have to defy physics to work properly" he replied.

The next text he got was the picture of an actress in a strapless bra, accompanied by the following, "We don't sprint 100 meters in this. For normal situations, this doesn't need to defy physics to work, duffer!"

That day he dreamed about her in that black strapless bra. It was glorious.

Days passed by and semesters too. What they had grew at a glacial pace but he was okay with it.

One day she asked him to go shopping with her. The college festival was coming and she needed clothes for different days. Day 1 dress code for girls' hostel was Blue Jeans and White top. Day 2 was Saree. Women and their dress codes!

That day, their friendship scaled a new height. The mall was pretty crowded and many a time she had to stay close to him in order not to get swept away by the crowd. Something soft touched his arm. He hadn't felt anything like that ever before. Soft as the softest of pillows he'd ever slept on. Maybe he was just imagining it.

But it happened again. As she stepped aside to avoid an oncoming crowd, the sides of her breast touched his arm. She didn't even notice that it was happening. That was the level of comfort she'd reached with him.

They say if a woman is not perturbed about her breast accidentally brushing against you, it means she trusts you 100 percent.

So he had found his way into the sanctum sanctorum of her trust circle. He was victorious in his conquest... even if she didn't yet know that there had been a conquest in his mind. He was hard in his pants remembering the soft touch of her bosom on his arm.

They looked around for outfits. She found a white top and went to the trial room. He hung around nearby.

A little later, she opened the door and came out wearing the top.

"How is this?" she asked.

His tongue got stuck because through the white top he could see the outline of her blue bra. Thankfully, this particular store was not crowded and there was no man nearby.

"Uhh" he blinked.

"What? Is it not good?" she asked.

"Uhh.."

"What? Just tell me."

"Your bra can be seen through this" he said in low voice.

"Oh... I didn't realize" she said and moved a couple steps back into the trial room. But she didn't close the door. He could still see her. It seemed she was only worried about any other man seeing her like this.

She looked in the mirror. The front was kinda okay. It was the back and sides that showed the outline of the bra.

"Maybe I can wear a white slip and it won't show," she said, "can you get me one?"

He went to the lingerie aisle feeling very self-conscious. He took the first white slip he saw and handed it to her. She went inside to wear it.

"Does it show now?" she asked coming out. She turned around.

"Not that much" he said.

"A white bra should do the trick" she walked towards the lingerie section.

After finding a white bra, she went into the trial room.

"Now?" she asked coming out a minute later.

"It's fine now" he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mirror reflection of the blue bra hanging on a hook. It made him hard again.

She changed back into her clothes and came out. After buying the outfit, they paid and came out. At the exit a security stamped the bill. He offered to carry the bag.

While looking through the bill he saw '36B' against one item. He now knew her bra size. He felt a twitch of excitement.

"I never understood these numbers" he said as if he was speaking to himself. In reality he was putting on the innocent act.

"What?" she asked.

"Oh nothing... did I say that aloud?" he replied.

She looked over at what he was looking at in the bill and realized he was talking about the bra size.

"Oh" she was quiet for a while.

"It's not that complicated," she started explaining, "36 is the inch measurement if you hold a tape around here" she gestured toward her bosom.

"And B is the cup size, you know..." she continued, "from the smallest A and then upwards... B, C and so on, you know... as it gets bigger" she made a cup shape with her palm in front of her and created a sort of animation of it expanding.

For him it was really exciting hearing her talking about bust size. But his face betrayed none of it. It showed only genuine curiosity and the dawn of comprehension.

Then they went to a saree boutique. She rummaged around a lot and found a red saree.

"Come here" she called him. She had chosen a red saree with a lot of bling. She laid it down and held a blouse against it.

He noticed that the top part of the blouse had a sort of net like texture. It was kinda transparent.

He touched that part.

"What is this?"

"It's a netted design" she explained.

"But you can see through it"

"Yeah.. so?"

"Oh... so this is when you need those strapless bras" he said.

"So you finally put 2 and 2 together!" she joked. He smiled.

"But no. This one doesn't need a bra" she said and turned the blouse around. The back was really low cut. Then she pointed to the inside.

"See, inbuilt bra" she laughed. The blouse had a thick inner lining.

"Ingenious" he beamed. Her face lit up with laughter once again at his fake innocence.

"So, what do you think about this outfit?" she asked.

"Uh... I don't know"

"Isn't it pretty?"

"How can I tell by seeing it laid out like this?"

"Oh... But I can't try it on from here." She said, "But I'm sure it'll look good on me."

She picked it up once again and ran her hands through the fabric.

"There's barely any cloth in the back" he said. It was bound to attract male attention if she wore this.

"It's the fashion these days," she spoke, "and I know what you're thinking. Don't worry. All the girls are going to wear such flashy stuff. The creeps will have plenty to look at other than me."

He wasn't convinced. He was having enough trouble already diverting her from other boys. He didn't want her to wear something that screamed 'look at me, I'm hot!'. It must've shown on his face.

"Tell you what, I'm buying this. Later, if you still think it's too much, I'll alter it appropriately" she offered. He agreed.

That night, they talked on video call. When he accepted the call, she was standing a few feet away from her mobile and she was wearing the saree. It didn't look so problematic as he'd imagined. At least from the front.

Then she twirled. Her back showed a lot of skin. There was a twitch in his shorts.

"Mom helped me wear the saree. She says its an art that I would have to learn soon."

"Oh its not so bad" she pouted when she saw his expression, "All the girls are going to wear such blouses."

He saw that she really wanted to wear it. So, he relented.

His expression softened and he told her that it looked good on her. She beamed at that.

"There's just one more thing" she said tentatively.

"What?"

"Some of the girls will be wearing their sarees low on the waist."

He understood. He wanted to say no. But he knew girls hated it when men did that. You had to at least give their idea a fair consideration. So he didn't say anything.

"Not too much" she said and pulled the waistline of her saree lower. Her pallu shifted a little and he caught a glimpse of her navel. Her milky soft navel. She adjusted the waist line just below her navel, pulled her pallu into place and waited for his comment.

"So?" she prompted.

"You look pretty" he said. She was going to wear this. Other men were going to see her like this. He resolved to stay close to her on the day to stave off men approaching her.

"But you look good in all your clothes" he added, deciding to keep the video call going.

She liked when he complemented her. Compliments are to women what sugar is to ants. They'll latch onto it.

"Wait, I want to show you something" she said and cut the call.

When she connected again, he was in for a surprise.

"I raided my elder sister's wardrobe. She isn't here."

She was wearing a pink lehenga choli and a shawl over one shoulder, the ends of which she held in front of her navel. The choli was small and showed a lot of her midriff.

He was blown away by the way she looked.

"Your parents don't say anything?" he asked. Malayalees were generally pretty conservative about their daughters' fashion choices.