The Good Girl Ch. 03

I trusted her. Not always her judgement per se, but I did trust her. It's just in this situation I thought that her immersed perspective was definitely skewing her decisions.

I am 98% sure Dr. Lane knew who I was. Rachel had said that they discussed me on a few occasions, which of course intrigued me. What exactly does an older professor type want to know about his young lover's bestie? To be a fly on that wall . . .

And of course I knew who he was. I had extensively researched him in hopes of uncovering any and all red flags on the guy. And really I wanted to find some obvious issues to convince Rachel to leave him. Sadly I could not find anything terribly damning. Like other guys his age he didn't really post much of his life online, opting to not have any social media presence to speak of. But I read about some of his research, his academic background and even student online discussions of him as a professor. I knew some about him.

But we had never met.

Until now of course. He happened to walk through the door of the coffee shop just as Rachel was trying to convince me how everything was awesome sauce with her new lecherous beau.

He didn't see us at first. And Rachel didn't see him either, but I did. So while she avoided eye contact with me as she tried to act like all was fantastic I watched him move around the coffee shop.

He wore dark pants and a white shirt, his sleeves rolled up. His dark blue silky tie hung somewhat loosened at his neck with the top button left undone. He walked over to the counter and stood confidently in line. His gaze started to wander around the room, taking in his surroundings as he waited his turn, eventually alighting on me.

And so I found myself locking gazes with him. And it was rather surreal. We had never spoken but I knew so much about him, with even some details about his quality as a lover. And I was sure the slightly bemused intelligent eyes studying me were likely working through the same types of analyses. Honestly it felt a little unnerving. I felt like I was being sized up, not as competition or something but just as a . . . I am not sure. Like a conquest.

He grabbed the coffee from the counter, seldom letting his eyes move from watching Rachel and I, and then strolled over to our table. He walked up beside Rachel and placed his hand on her shoulder, slightly startling her until she realized who he was. She beamed up at him.

"Hi Rachel." He glanced down and smiled at her, seemingly squeezing her shoulder. Then his eyes came to me, his hand shooting out in my direction. "And you must be Lauren."

"Yes. Dr. Lane?" I smiled but I didn't feel much pleasantness behind my mask. I in fact felt a little hostility towards him. For his arrogance maybe. His confidence. Did he assume I would just fall into line and swoon over his charm thinking that he would be so super duper for my friend?

He nodded, smiled and firmly gripped my hand. "Indeed." His hand continued to hold moment for a moment longer.

He glanced at Rachel, "I apologize for interrupting." She sported a grin as if she was very excited that two people who she always wanted to meet finally did. Which I think was exactly the state of things.

Rachel shook her head. "Not interrupting at all. Would you like to join us?"

He glanced back at me, "You have veto power here." That was surprising. Very. Was he playing some game or was he truly trying to show respect and deference for our friendship? Honestly it was a nice gesture if what it appeared to be was actually what it was. Regardless I nodded. "Please."

He pulled a chair up and settled into the chair, with Rachel on one side of him and me on his right. He glanced at me and seemed to come to an immediate conclusion.

"So, I am not sure if you know this but we share something in common, Lauren."

He caught me mid-sip with my coffee cup at my lips. I raised my eyebrows as I set the cup back down. "Oh? What is that?"

He leaned forward, not to intimidate (I don't think) but rather seemingly to make a serious point. "We both harbor a very deep need to protect Rachel here."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rachel stiffen a bit. I knew this probably made her feel a little uncomfortable as she was one to avoid directness. He seemed to know the same thing as he glanced at her and grabbed and squeezed her hand lightly, comforting her.

I tried to quickly regain composure from the alarmingly direct statement. I nodded, "I do feel that need."

"Good," he smiled at me. A real smile, it seemed. Genuine. "We all need friends like you, Lauren."

I expected a fight. A pissing match. I expected him to come over and be territorial and draw lines in the sand. To establish rules of engagement. Or even to tell me to get the hell out of his way as he fucked my best friend. I expected him to be a dick. Or a perv. Or a perverted dick. Surely he suspected and maybe even definitively knew that I disapproved of this. If he didn't know before now then he likely could at least perceive it during this little encounter. He came across as pretty intuitive. And pretty sincere. Which shocked the hell out of me.

And he likely saw this written in neon lights on my face as he softened his expression, "I honestly mean that Lauren. I am very glad Rachel has you for a friend."

"Uh .. . thank you." I was seldom thrown off my feet. But it just happened.

He nodded. "And I do not expect you to appreciate me yet, Lauren. It is quite ok. You do not know me, my motivations or intentions. I am new to this." He motioned at the three of us. I nodded without thinking. He was 100% correct. He seemed to appreciate the honesty of my reaction as he casually took another sip, his eyes intensely watching mine.

"So I look forward to getting to know you."

I watched his movements, his mannerisms. He seemed to be completely relaxed, confident, in control. Even in his deferential overtures towards me he still ultimately was in control. He was the conductor of the orchestra, I was just the fourth flute player on the right. There was something very sexy about him, his glances, his way of speaking. I was starting to understand the attraction but I still did not get how he would feel comfortable doing this.

Rachel, please understand, was no simpleton easily led away by shiny lights or whatever. She was thoughtful and brilliant and intuitive and caring. I respected her deeply and had a love for her and her friendship that would span years to come, but she was led with her heart. And he must have seen this about her. And he must have seen how he could be perceived as taking advantage of her in this regard.

And so as he led us in a very pleasant discussion, where he asked more questions of me than talking of himself, where he listened intently to every word I said, where he laughed and showed concern at all the right places, where he demonstrated sharp intelligence and a great sense of humor, I saw even more clearly the attraction.

But as I thought, I became more frustrated. Sure this was pleasant. And he was charming. And a bit unnerving. And surprising. But I was feeling less in control, which was definitely not my style. I felt this need to push back and regain a footing, but then I felt this enjoyment of letting him drive. And the frustration, I realized, was not about him, but about me and my inner-argument.

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As I climbed the stairs to Rachel's apartment I thought back to a few days back and my unexpected encounter with Dr. Lane. It had actually been simmering beneath the surface nearly non-stop, but now that I was walking up to see Rachel it really pushed its way front and center. Confusion and a little frustration reigned supreme.

I was used to being in control of things for myself and here I was getting comfortable in someone else taking that control. He didn't demand it, he just did it. It wasn't the standard professor/ student or employee/ employer type of thing. Under those scenarios the societal expectation was a deference to authority, but here I was feeling that control slip in a casual social engagement. And I liked that, I think. And then I did not like that I think I liked it. As I said, confusion.

I walked up to Rachel's door and tried to open it. Locked. That was unusual as when she was home she always left it unlocked and I saw her car outside so I knew she was home. She wasn't expecting me but I always just strolled into her apartment just like she did with mine. It's what we did.

I gently tapped my knuckle on the door. I heard Rachel's muffled voice, followed by a man's. Rachel's sounded a bit higher than normal, like she was making a point. I considered walking away as it was obvious who was with her, but opted to stay.

FInally I heard the lock moving and the door cracking open. I could see just Rachel's face between the door and the jam. And she didn't look excited to see me.

"Oh hi Lauren."

"Hi Rachel. Everything ok?"

"Yep. All is good." Definitely not. She didn't even bother to pretend with a smile this time.

"Rachel . . . "

'I am cool, Lauren. How are you? All good? Having a good day?" She was never good at changing the subject. Plus a little panic was written on her face.

"Rachel, please let me in." At this point the narrative I was creating was pretty grim. I didn't know what she was hiding and what Lane was doing in there but I was hoping the reality wasn't nearly as bad as what I was assuming.

She shook her head.

"Rachel . . . You are going to have to let me in."

"Please Lauren. Can't we just talk later."

"Rachel!" This was really upsetting me. She didn't hide stuff from me. And in this case she was scaring me.

She nodded. "Ok, but know that I am ok . .ok?"

I nodded for her sake, but convinced that she was anything but ok.

So she opened the door. All looked exactly normal in her apartment except for two anomalies. First, Dr. Lane was casually washing something in the sink in the adjacent open kitchen when I walked in, as if him being there and doing that activity were the most normal occurrence ever. He glanced up immediately, smiled and strolled towards me, drying his hands on a hand towel en route.

But the second thing captured my attention even more than Lane's presence. Rachel was naked.

Now we had seen each other in varying states of undress previously, mostly underwear and such and once she and I went topless at a little private secluded beach, which admittedly was a little exciting, but neither of us were the types to sit around in just our bras and panties. Much less completely naked. Even more much less completely naked while a guy washes dishes. So the questions came to mind: Why was she naked, of course. Oh and also why? And then there was why? And of course finally why didn't she put something on before opening the door?

After staring at my naked friend for a bit of an uncomfortably long time I then looked at Lane, who acted like nothing was terribly wrong. He maintained his smile and reached out, gently taking my hand in greeting.

Rachel looked mortified. I felt mortified for her. And Lane acted like all was ok. In fact he walked over to Rachel and gently touched her shoulder, leaned over and whispered something into her ear. She visibly relaxed just a little bit. Now that my piqued my curiosity.

"Rachel, should we invite your friend all the way in? She probably has a few questions."

Rachel nodded and led me into the living room space. Yes, it was odd walking behind my completely naked friend. It's possible that I checked her out a little, but I definitely was not into girls so my appreciation for her beauty was purely aesthetic. And she was beautiful. In fact, I envied her butt. Rachel had a great ass.

I glanced up from watching Rachel's butt to find that Lane was watching my eyes, very amused it seemed. And so I blushed, which rarely happened. He probably thought I was perving her (which I kinda was) but that I wanted to have sex with her or something (which I definitely did not). Whatever old man. Think what you want.

I sat down on the couch and Rachel sat right next to me, which also was a first for both of us. She sort of covered her breasts as she sat until I saw a very slight shake of Lane's head. She immediately dropped her hands to her side so that her front was completely exposed.

It was hard to focus as so much drew my attention: Lane's smiling eyes, Rachel's unabashedly naked form and this surreal state of surface-level normalcy even made up by these completely abnormal things.

And then there was this little thought in the back of my mind: I admire Rachel for being able to walk around nude, so confidently like that. I liked my body just fine, but I had never boldly done that before. I liked the idea of it but I doubt I could do it. And really, I needed to figure out what aspects of being nude in front of others I liked . .As I don't think I had realized that . . . Confusing.

"So Lauren, ask away. There are some obvious questions to be posed, followed by some that I may not know about." And with that, Lane leaned back in the chair and waited.

So where do I begin? Maybe the most obvious.

I turned to my naked friend, "Rachel, why are you not wearing clothes?"

She immediately turned towards Lane, who nodded as if giving her permission. I got the sense that she preferred that he answer.

"Because it is the rule," she explained quietly, which really wasn't much of an explanation.

"Your rule?" She shook her head. I then glanced and nodded at Lane across from us. She nodded an affirmative.

I turned to Lane. "So you have a rule that Rachel should be naked in her apartment?"

"Today there is one, yes."

What the hell! I felt this surging anger welling up. Who does he think he is that he can treat my best friend like some sort of object. I felt the seething just under the surface, but maintained my cool for a bit longer. The analytical side of me needed to know the answers.

I turned to Rachel, "And you are following this rule because . . ."

She turned towards me and lost a little bit of her embarrassment, flatly stating, "because I choose to do so."

And that hit me hard. She wasn't coerced. She chose. I could tell in her voice and her eyes that this was a choice, well at least the rule following. I am pretty sure she felt quite a bit of discomfort over the naked thing. I know I would. And that little seed lingered a bit . . .

"But why?"

She thought for a moment, thinking through my question. Yes, seeing my completely naked friend working through a reflective question like that was very odd.

She turned back to me, maintaining her steady confident voice, "Because I feel the need to do it, Lauren. I am not sure I can explain it."

I sat stunned. Yeah, I thought when I came over today I would just hang out with Rachel, talking about guys and classes and what we saw on TV the night before. I didn't know we would spiral into this.

I thought through it. Were there things that I felt compelled to do, by me, that may cause discomfort, simply because I felt the overall need to comply?

I turned to Lane. He sat watching us. He wasn't smug or grinning in pleasure like I thought he would be. He just watched us curiously. He actually watched me more than Rachel. That's right, his eyes were on the dressed girl rather than the beautiful naked one. It's like he was peeling back my layers as he looked at me, which honestly made me feel a bit naked.

"So am I going to see you naked in your apartment from now on?" I had noticed over the last few exchanges how much Rachel started to relax more. Like she came into being confident in her decisions.

Rachel actually glanced at Dr. Lane, smiling raising an eyebrow questioningly. He just laughed a pleasant laugh. "Maybe?" Then he shook his head, "no, I don't think so."

"Is this what you two do all the time?" Lane shook his head. "No Lauren."

"But Rachel always follows your rules?" And at this he nodded his head, "Yes she does." And he smiled warmly at Rachel.

I got chills.

This made no sense. A couple where the woman completely submitted to the man went against everything I stood for.

'So why did you tell Rachel to stay naked when she had to answer the door?"

Lane sat up a bit and leaned forward, "Lauren, we figured it was you, which honestly scared Rachel more than if it was a pizza delivery person or something." With that he looked affectionately at Rachel, "but I knew that eventually you would have to find out about this aspect of our relationship. It is what we are afterall."

Then Lane smiled, "Plus I like seeing her naked and I would have been supremely disappointed to see her covered up." Rachel giggled, "you are such a perv." His eyebrow raised and she immediately added " . . . sir" sheepishly.

I found myself in a whirlwind trying to process this. Naked nervousness aside, I had to admit Rachel seemed to be crazily comfortable with him. And he seemed to be protective of her, even with the forcing her to be naked in front of me.

"Would you . . . require . . . her to be naked in front of others besides me?"

He thought for a moment and then nodded his head. "Great question. I would only if I thought it would be a good thing for her. Like this scenario was a good thing for all of us, I think."

Rachel just sat and acceptingly listened. Did this help her feel safe? Protected? Did this choice of giving up some give her pleasure?

"Lauren, I know this was a bit of a shocker. . . " You got that right bub. " . . . But keep looking through the lens that I have Rachel's needs as my primary concern." He smiled at her and she returned the smile. And I felt lost again.

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I slept restlessly. And dreamt. I don't usually remember my dreams well but this one stuck to me and caused me to wake up in a breathing panic.

It began seemingly normal. I was walking to class talking with my friends, a few girls from one of my classes the semester before. I wasn't sure if this dream was a past or present or future. It had that timeless quality to it.

Regardless, suddenly I found myself away from my friends and in my apartment. And Lane was there. And he was looking at me very intensely. And I found it so compelling.

We sat and talked to each other about a few things, unimportant details as I couldn't remember the exact topics. And I felt this lovely engagement with him, like he was completely focused on me. It was pleasurable.

As we spoke, his eyes started to move from my face down my body. I didn't feel like he was being offensive. It just seemed normal, and exciting, that he wanted to drink me in.

After he spent some time looking at me, I saw his eyes return to my body so I casually glanced down at myself and saw that I was completely naked.

I have had the naked dream before and it usually caused such panic. But with him, I thought nothing of it. It's the way he wanted it and I liked giving him that. And so we continued our conversation, with this tingling feeling of excitement slowly boiling under the surface. I wanted his eyes on me. And I wanted to be on display for him.

And that's when I woke in a panic. I didn't panic because I was naked in front of Lane in my dream. Instead I panicked because I somehow enjoyed it.

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I became obsessive. It happened on occasion. I would over-analyze stuff, reading into the significance of every little detail, wonder about potential alternative paths, etc. And in this case? What was it about that situation - the Lane-Rachel relationship - that caused me to really want to understand it, and even to dream about it where I was the one doing it?

I was the take-charge sensible girl and this went against every piece of that. I wanted to be exposed to it more. And I couldn't explain why I wanted to understand something that decidedly went against my core being. Seemingly.