​ I find myself daydreaming, sitting on the sofa for nearly an hour, a cup of cold coffee in hand. My thoughts wander back and forth between memories of last night, Benoît's revelations and the upcoming confrontation with Maxine. Looking back, I'm still wondering what went through my mind to expose myself to my friend. Even worse! In front of my best friend's girlfriend. Well... ex-girlfriend? I don't even know anymore.
I take a sip and wince as the cold liquid runs down my throat. This sudden bitterness brings me back to reality, and I decide to hustle a little, despite the headache that has persisted since I woke up, in order to leave the apartment before Maxine returns.
Guilt gradually overcomes me, as I head for the kitchen to do the rest of the dishes. Stress mounts as I imagine my next encounter with her. What will she say? And what will I say? How can I remain natural after a situation like this? Hundreds of scenarios run through my head, when suddenly the sound of keys in the front door echoes around the room.
I stiffen, a glass full of foam in one hand, the sponge in the other, looking almost in terror at the mirror in the hallway that reflects the door. Maxine walks past, her face glowing, happily humming the tune on her headphones. She doesn't see me directly and simply removes her long beige coat, black heels and leather bag, which she drops carelessly beside her shoes. An amused smile passes over my face, as I think back to her remarks about Benoît's "messy" side.
Still concentrating on her music, and her haphazard dance steps, she unhooks her bra through her black satin top and breathes a sigh of relief as she removes it completely. She sits down on the wooden bench in the hallway, then removes her stockings one after the other, before straightening up to slide the zipper off her skirt. I consider this an opportune moment to announce my presence, before I have to face what could be a particularly embarrassing situation.
"Is that you, Maxine? I'm in the kitchen, cleaning up another thing or two, and I'll be right back!" I tell her, pretending not to have seen her and concentrating on cleaning up.
She stops suddenly, and I hear her murmuring in the distance, but not enough to understand what she's saying. The sound of her zipper going up breaks the almost heavy silence. The delicate sound of her bare feet on the tiled entrance announces her arrival.
"Hello, Arthur... I didn't know you'd still be here..." she says, her voice quavering. "Is Benoît still in bed?
"I think he is. When I left the dressing room I came straight here, as you can see..."
Just as I'm about to tell her, I realize I'm still wearing my shorts and T-shirt from the night before, without having had a chance to wash. With my hair all over the place, my breath smelling of cold coffee and washing-up liquid stains everywhere, I suddenly feel uncomfortable in front of her, who's all fresh and clean. Clearly aware of my sudden discomfort, she pokes fun at my outfit and jokes about the unlikely shape of my hair, which she describes as resembling "a sick banana that's had a stroke".
The joke is well-timed, and immediately lifts the mood. We chat for a long time, finishing the few remaining dishes. Maxine approaches the coffee table to bring me the last glass, unwittingly revealing her black panties as she bends over to pick them up. I turn around as quickly as I can and swallow loudly as memories of the night before surface. Unaware of my torment, she continues to joke about the subject we were discussing, which I've completely forgotten since that vision. I simply smile, without saying a word, hoping that she doesn't expect me to respond.
She offers me a coffee, hot this time, as a reward for our labor. I accept gladly, and sit down on the sofa, taking care not to glance in her direction. Now closer to the corridor door, and indirectly to their bedroom door, I can faintly hear one sound after another. I realize that Benoît is wide awake, and probably on a famous short video app. I'm amused to recognize some of them, and to know exactly what kind of video he's on. True to form...
"And there you have it! You're sugar-free, aren't you?" asks Maxine, answering her own question.
I delicately pick up the cup and bring it to my lips, savoring the comforting warmth of the beverage. We drink in unison for a moment, before she puts the cup back down and looks at me, her cheeks and nose pink, a touching smile on her face.
"Thanks for washing up," she says simply, "I'm not really used to getting a helping hand here."
Her gaze rests briefly on the hallway door, and with an annoyed look on her face, she grabs her phone and starts writing a message. The kind of message I probably wouldn't like to receive. I take advantage of this moment of distraction to let my eyes linger longer on her, something I've forced myself to avoid until now.
Maxine regularly replaces her blonde locks, which fall in front of her eyes with a bewitching gesture. Despite her obvious irritation, she's nonetheless terribly seductive. Her jaw twitches irregularly, allowing me to guess without difficulty when her message is most "salty". I allow myself a little detour to her cleavage, taking care not to linger too long. Her position, with her elbows resting on her knees, gives me a nice glimpse of the curve of her breasts. The memory of Benoît's pictures comes back to mind and, discreetly, I pick up my phone, which is lying on the table. I move to the back of the sofa, check that Maxine isn't looking in my direction, and open the folder containing the photos. I scroll through them for a moment, before feeling increasingly confined under my boxer shorts, the only barrier to involuntary exposure.
I cross my legs, lock my screen and quickly avert my eyes in the direction of hers, banishing from my mind this thought which, although pleasant, also makes me feel a great deal of guilt. As I try to focus on something else, Maxine turns her attention back to me just as I seem to be looking at her feet. Our eyes meet, and I feel a mixture of surprise, astonishment and unease wash over us.
"What do you think of my polish?" she asks amusedly, her face slightly flushed as she wiggles her toes exaggeratedly.
"It's very pretty. Red's a safe bet!" I answer, looking more relaxed than I am. "Sorry, I wasn't... looking at your feet, I was just... in a daze."
"Arthur. I guess, and I don't really care..." she adds, before continuing with a smile, "but I didn't know you had a fetish, and I'm delighted to find out this way."
We joke for a while, a short but crucial period of time that allows me to think about other things, and to finally get up from the sofa without embarrassment. I'm about to grab the cups when she stops me. At the same moment, Benoît, completely absent until now, graces us with his presence. He's dressed, but obviously hasn't taken the time to go under the water. With his hard face, I initially get the impression that he's turned against me. His tap on my shoulder, stronger than I'd imagined when he extended his arm, accompanied by a "Hell of a bender last night, bro! I can't remember a thing, I hope you didn't enjoy it!" reassured me on this subject. However, when he turns his attention to Maxine, his tone suddenly changes.
"If you're going to send me that kind of message when I wake up, you might as well let me sleep," he says curtly.
"Next time you pretend to be asleep, at least think about turning the sound down," she replies just as coldly.
"Between that and last night, it's getting to be a lot," he murmurs loud enough for her to hear.
Maxine's face turns bright red. She straightens up, tucks in her skirt and grabs the cups before heading for the kitchen sink. I'm left stunned, both uncomfortable and curious as to what he's referring to. I did see a little tension yesterday, when he came home drunk, but I didn't think it was this much... Despite the particularly heavy atmosphere that has just set in, I'm surprised to see that she manages to remain dignified and graceful. A moment quickly cut short by the loud, greasy burp that Benoît releases in response, before laughing heavily as he steps towards her, and delivers a barely restrained slap on her bottom. A small hiccup of surprise escapes Maxine, who turns towards him with a scarlet face. She's about to reply, but is cut off.
"Well, I'm off. My mates have been waiting for me for two hours. I'd hate to keep them waiting any longer," he says sarcastically, giving me a sidelong glance.
"I despise you to the depths of my being, just so you know," I retort, unable to hold back a smile at such audacity.
"When are you going to be back?" asks Maxine, looking a little jaded.
"I've no idea. Wherever the wind takes me, I'll go. Ciao, nerds."
He turns to me one last time before walking out the front door, his backpack slung over his shoulder. After a quick glance in the direction of his girlfriend, to make sure she doesn't see him, he puts two fingers in the shape of a "V" in front of his mouth, and makes a gesture that lets me understand who he's really joining. I don't have time to react as he closes the door and disappears, leaving us alone with a stony silence for company.
I stare at Maxine for a moment, not knowing what to say or do, and feeling terribly useless. I'm angry with Benoît for putting me in such a situation; deep down, I'd rather not have known about the other woman. She stands wordlessly at the sink, her hands on either side. A deep sigh escapes her, what sounds like a brief sob, then she turns back to me with a false smile, her eyes slightly red.
"All right, then. Do you have any plans for today?"
"Uh, not really, but I'll get my things and leave you alone. I'm sorry about... all this..." I answer awkwardly as I head for the dressing room.
"You're in no way responsible, and as you've seen, I probably don't have any plans either. If you'd like to stay here, it would be a pleasure. The solitude is beginning to weigh heavily on me."
Part of me would love to spend more time with Maxine, but another part finds itself in a particularly uncomfortable position. Despite everything, she's still my friend's girlfriend. More or less. And all that aside, what happened last night is still very much on my mind. Seeing me hesitate, she smiles and tries to convince me.
"Far be it from me to bribe you, but I've got pancakes to make and a huge list of films I want to watch. And that's not counting the rum, which must be... there!" she says, a smile on her face as she shows me a barely-begun bottle.
"I don't have any stuff, or anything..." I answer hesitantly, looking down at my dirty T-shirt.
"Roh, don't talk nonsense, it's just us, we don't care! Believe me, I'm not planning to stay in my work clothes all evening! And besides...," she turns to the clock on the oven before continuing, "it's already 5pm, you've still got your head in the pie it's plain to see, there's no way I'm letting you get back behind the wheel in this state."
I finally agreed, but not before protesting for a few moments, symbolically, while laughing at his frankly shaky excuses. After all, I owe her that much. She grabs a towel to dry her hands, and asks me to follow her. We make our way to her room, and after a few seconds' pause, just long enough for her to realize just how messy Benoît has left everything, she decides not to pay any attention. She bypasses the bed, goes to the opposite side and then rummages around in a large solid wood wardrobe, at odds with the general decor of the room. Rather cold and modern, the gray and white paint, the black steel TV cabinet and bed, and the dark gray linoleum surprise me, knowing Maxine's tastes. Curious, I take a good look around the room. On her little white bedside table, on top of a book, sits a small black dildo.
"I'm warning you, don't you dare pass the slightest judgment!" she laughs, sensing the mockery coming from me, as she hurries to put it away in the drawer.
I content myself with a smile, which she broadly returns.
"Here," she continues, placing some clothes on the bed, a pair of shorts and a sweater. "It's an "L", will it fit?"
"Yes, that's fine, thank you."
"For briefs, boxers or... whatever you prefer," she murmurs, blushing softly and averting her gaze from my body, "it's in the dressing room. Bottom drawer."
Yes, I already know that... I thank her again and grab the clothes. She walks around the bed, trying not to look in Benoît's direction, and heads for the room opposite. As we open the door, an icy draught passes through us. Waking up with the thought of airing the room was a good thing, but forgetting to close the window wasn't particularly smart on my part.
"Ooh..." murmurs Maxine, shivering.
She hurriedly closed the window and turned on the radiator, then sat down on it to wait for a source of heat.
"Sorry, I forgot... "
"It's okay, you were right to air it out!" she reassures me. "I'll let you choose what you like best."
As I pass her, I catch a brief glimpse of her nipples, presumably very responsive to the cool ambient air. They rise delicately, forming discreet, elegant reliefs through her black top. My gaze, though brief, is caught by Maxine. She just smiles casually, her cheeks rosy, then announces that she's going to air out her room a little and change. She approaches me, opens her underwear drawer and, after sorting through a few, picks out a pair of black panties. She looks around for a moment, then grabs a gray T-shirt that looks particularly big and baggy. I watch her leave the room through the reflection of the mirror, fascinated by the beauty of her bare legs. I quickly rummage around for a pair of underpants without really paying attention, a pair of socks, which belong to me by the way, and follow in her footsteps.
Once in the corridor, I come face to face with Maxine, who emerges from her room and closes the door, her clothes still in her hands. I follow her to the bathroom, where she tells me precisely where to find the towels, washcloths and other products I might need. I listen with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile.
"Oh, that's right... you leave a bit of soap lying around and we won't talk about it anymore," she laughs. "Be careful with the water, it takes a while to heat up and stays cold for a while."
"Got it! Thanks a lot!"
I place my belongings on the edge of the sink, and a towel near the shower, while turning it on to heat the water. I think about the program on ecology I saw the day before and decide to pretend it hadn't crossed my mind. As I take off my T-shirt, I realize that my phone isn't there, and gripped by an irresistible urge to finish what I couldn't finish last night, I leave the room to retrieve it from the dressing room, where I put it when I picked up the underpants. Once in the corridor, in front of the slightly ajar dressing room door, I freeze when I see Maxine changing. Her top is already off, lying on the floor, her free breasts swaying delicately to the rhythm of her movements. She's even more beautiful in person than in the photo... She slides her skirt down her legs, waddling. I can't take my eyes off her breasts, a hypnotic ballet. Once her skirt is at her feet, she turns and bends down to pick it up, unwittingly offering me a sight I won't soon forget. Maxine turns around, picks up the grey T-shirt lying on the sofa bed and slips it on, completely covering her panties, which she then removes.
A little frustrated at not having had the chance to find out more, I can't help but smile and enjoy the brief moment I've just had. Although I've been trying hard to keep it at bay until now, the guilt is becoming more and more omnipresent, and starts to take over, just as I see Maxine grab my phone. A shiver runs down the back of my neck, and this time it's not due to the chill in the air.
She stares at it in her hand for a moment, without moving. We have exactly the same one, and we both know we don't have a code or password. We talked about it at length the day before, reproaching each other for this basic lack of security. Time seems suspended and I pray as hard as I can that she doesn't decide to give in to curiosity. Which is ironic, given the circumstances.
She walks over to the sofa bed and sits down, my phone in hand. From where I stand, I can see my screen light up, which she unlocks with a flick of her finger. My heart races, the beats echoing in my skull and making me feel like it's going to explode. The first thing that pops up is a close-up photo of Maxine, topless, biting her lip. A slightly naive part of me wants to hope that she doesn't immediately recognize the photo, and thinks it's someone else. Of course, it's not.
She stares at the picture for a long time, without making a sound, then moves on to the next, then the next, until the video.
I'm paralyzed, unable to breathe or move. I expect anything, but I can't come up with a defense as to what these photos are doing in my phone. After a deep sigh, she immediately opens my messages, and turns to the conversation with Benoît.
"What a little son of a..." she whispers, her jaw clenching.
She sits up briskly and grabs her things, her brusque gestures betraying her state of mind, and I hurry to the bathroom in silence. I throw my boxers and T-shirt on the floor, and have just got under the water when I hear the door open. I try to remain as calm and neutral as possible, despite my breathing, which is much faster than normal.
"Can you explain?" Maxine says, standing in front of the shower, my phone in hand, a photo of her on my phone.
"Uh... what... what are you...," I reply feverishly, recalling my distant theater days.
"There's no need to stammer," she replies curtly, her dark eyes locked in mine. "Where did you get that?"
I'm surprised she would even ask, knowing full well she knows where it comes from. Is this a way of testing me? I have two choices: either I tell on Benoît, after all... I didn't ask for anything in the first place. Or I cover for him, but she'll know I'm lying, and then...
"It's..." I take a deep breath before answering, "it's Benoît. But wait! We'd had a lot to drink yesterday, and he in particular. If I remember correctly, it was bad handling on his part. I came across the photo earlier, on the sofa. I'd completely forgotten... "
She stares at me for a moment, then looks me up and down. Despite the ambient tension, I can't control the beginnings of an erection as I realize that Maxine is standing in front of me, right now.
"Are you serious right now?" she says, holding back a smile. "And why didn't you delete the photos straight away?
"Uh... I... "
"What's the idea? Jerking off to your buddy's girlfriend's nudes?"
Surprised by her sudden aggressiveness, I remain silent for a moment, before remembering something that might get me out of this mess. Suddenly overconfident, and taking a chance by remembering the current state of their relationship, I stand up to face her. I don't even bother to hide my dick anymore, which is very close to a full erection.
"What about the photo you took of me this morning when you walked into the dressing room?"
"What about it? What are you talking about?" she murmurs immediately, her eyes wide.
"About the flash that woke me up just before I saw you leaving the room."
"... Because you weren't naked on purpose the moment I came in, perhaps?" she replies after a long moment of silence, lowering her eyes, her face bright red.
"I always sleep naked, and you know it," I reply calmly.
We stare at each other for a long time, without making a sound. Maxine's face has relaxed considerably, despite her still rosy cheeks. Shame and guilt are surprisingly gone from my side, as I remind her that I'm obviously not the only pervert in the room.
"Did he often send you photos of me... like this?" she asks suddenly, her voice low.
"No. This was the first time."
"You must think I'm a... "
"Let me stop you right there, Maxine. This doesn't change a thing about what I think of you. What you do in your married life is none of my business. I shouldn't have had those photos, you shouldn't have taken one of me. How about a fresh start? If you think you can get past this, I'll do it too, and with great pleasure."
She takes a long look at me, making no secret of the fact that she's lingering over my cock, then laughs, more and more, to the point of contagious giggles. We laugh for several minutes, unable to stop, without even really understanding why. Maxine takes a few steps back, removes her grey T-shirt, revealing her breasts to me without any embarrassment, then removes her panties. Totally naked, she stands facing me for a moment, allowing me to admire her intimacy without limits. My eyes inevitably linger on her innie pussy, on her slightly downy blond hair, on her lips that only hint at the rosy aspect of her deepest intimacy.
"Come on, get out of the shower now, it's my turn to wash," she says as she steps under the water, her breasts subtly grazing my body. "Oh and... please, delete the pictures."