Taste

"I don't see what the big deal is," Janet chimed in, coming to my defense. "As long as they understand that it's just sex."

Oscar, Janet, and I would hang out regularly over the next year. We spoke candidly about the people we were involved with. I would chide Oscar for how gentlemanly he was with his women, and, in turn, he would tell me how much of an asshole I was with mine. Janet never revealed much during these outings. I didn't get the sense she was being coy with us. Rather, I suspected she just didn't have all that much dirt to share.

This all changed when I got a call from Janet at the end of May. Tommy had called her to say he was coming to visit in a month. "That's great," I told her. "It'll be good to see him, no?"

"He's bringing Nao," she responded. "His girlfriend."

Fuck.

I apologized and swore I didn't know about Nao.

"There's no need to apologize. I've known for a while. Tommy and I are just friends now. He's free to date whomever he pleases."

Tommy and I spoke the next day, and I offered up my place for the duration of his trip. I didn't mind moving back in with my folks for two weeks if it meant that he and Nao could have a little privacy. And so when the day came, I packed a suitcase and moved into my old bedroom, making time out of my schedule to see Tommy as often as I could.

Nao was a punk rock chick from Osaka. Her English was quite limited but still way better than my Japanese. Whenever she spoke, it was to point out how kind Canadians were and how lucky we were to live in such a beautiful country. Tommy had informed her ahead of time that I'd lived in Japan, so we spoke at length about my time there too.

Tommy and I hung out a few more times while he was in town. But two weeks would come and go in a flash, and before I knew it, my brother's visit was nearing its end. Nao needed to fly back a day early for work, so on the morning of her departure—a Friday I took off from work—Tommy and I took her to the airport and saw her off safely. Afterwards, we grabbed a quick lunch and went back to my place for a nap. When I awoke, Tommy was already up, pacing around the apartment on his phone.

"Who's that?" I asked, after he'd finished his call.

"Just Janet," he responded. "We're meeting up for drinks in a bit. If you're not doing anything, you should join us."

I figured they had a lot of stuff to work through, so I declined.

"Seriously," Tommy remarked, "you should totally come."

I suddenly got the sense my brother was secretly dreading his meeting with Janet and only wanted me there for moral support. Or maybe I was wrong, and he simply wanted to show me firsthand that they really could function as just friends. Either way, I declined his offer, adding, "I'll just head back to mum and dad's tonight."

Tommy shook his head at this.

"Need I remind you that this is your place? Nao's gone, so you can have it back. I'll only be out for an hour—two, tops. When I get back, we can play some Mario Kart. I'll sleep on the sofa, and in the morning, you can drive me to the airport."

I was all out of excuses, so I wished Tommy the best of luck and hung back at my place. I watched some TV, played some video games, and caught up on some marking. When I got hungry, I made myself a sandwich and then took another nap on the sofa. When I awoke, three hours had passed, and there was still no sign of Tommy. I knocked on my bedroom door to see if maybe he'd snuck in while I was asleep. Getting no response, I cracked open the door to see if maybe he'd fallen asleep—

—No one. Nothing.

Two hours tops, my ass, I thought.

I was about to close the door when a faint glow by the far corner of my room caught my eye. I didn't sleep with a nightlight, and I'd never known Tommy to sleep with one either. Whatever it was, my bed was obscuring it from view. I walked around the bed to find a laptop plugged into the wall. Holy shit, I thought. My brother had forgotten to power off his laptop!

I was suddenly transported back to a snowy onsen in Aomori. Images of a near-naked Janet flooded my head: beads of water rolling off her wondrous shoulders, a scant towel covering her slender body, her nipples poking through. I picked up the laptop and looked at the screen. An IM window was still open; the most recent message, time-stamped 5:57 PM, had been sent from Janet and read: It would probably be faster if we spoke over the phone.

Next thing I knew, I was frantically looking through folders and clicking on everything I came across. Surely, Tommy must've had some sexy or—fingers crossed—nude pics of Janet somewhere. A folder named STUFF looked promising but ended up being, well, just stuff. I didn't stop to think about right or wrong. My curiosity had gotten the better of me.

I looked through folders, and subfolders, and sub-subfolders—finding nothing. I sat back, rubbed my forehead, and pressed the palm of my hand into my eye. It occurred to me, suddenly, that maybe I was going about it all wrong. I moved the cursor up to the RECENTLY OPENED tab and clicked on it. The first dozen files I recognized as ones I'd opened myself. Below these was a file labelled simply J. I could feel my heart beating inside my chest. Could this be it? There was only one way to find out. I clicked on the file and watched the screen go black.

A blurry figure materialized before me. Even before it came into focus, I knew it had to be Janet. I panicked for a second, thinking maybe I'd Skyped her, but then I remembered she was out with Tommy having drinks. What I was seeing was an old webcam session that Tommy must've recorded.

From the angle I was seeing her, Janet had placed her own laptop on the ground about a metre in front of her. I watched as she wriggled around to fit her entire body in frame. She had on scant triangular panties and a white tank top that hugged her tits. Even with the grainy resolution, it was evident she wasn't wearing a bra. I could easily make out her erect nipples through her top.

My penis began to stir. I reached into my pants and tugged at my swelling erection. Janet started her show, fondling her tits through her shirt, pushing them together, and leaning forward to reveal just the slightest cleavage. I watched as she closed her eyes, bit one corner of her lower lip, and threw her head back in bliss. This was so incredibly wrong, but I found it impossible to turn away. I was now witnessing a side of Janet—my brother's ex and a dear friend—that I had no right seeing.

As I watched on fixedly, Janet reached down to opposite hems of her tank top, pulled it up over her head, and discarded it. My dick got hard instantly. I was now staring at Janet's bare breasts, a sight I didn't think I'd ever see in my lifetime given how I'd missed my best and only chance in Japan.

Janet's tits were glorious: natural, perky, shaped like two perfect teardrops with beautiful pink nipples at their centres. I stroked my cock faster as she played with her nipples, squeezing and twisting them between her thumbs and fingers. I could tell from the look on her face that this was turning her on too. Her face glowed as the pace of her movements quickened. With one hand still cupping a breast, she reached into her panties and began rubbing her clit in small circles. It would not take long for her to climax—only a few seconds—after which she pulled out her soaking wet fingers and showed them to the camera. Cum dangled between two of her fingers. These she licked clean, smiling teasingly with the tip of one finger still in her mouth.

With that, the video ended, and the screen went black again.

I immediately clicked REPLAY and watched the video a second time. Realizing the video had been on mute the first time, I turned up the volume and began stroking my cock again. With the sound on, the video proved doubly effective. Not only were my eyes being treated to a feast, now my ears were too. I couldn't resist Janet's moans for very long, shooting a huge load of cum into my hand before the video was even half over.

Just as this happened, I heard what sounded like keys jangling at my front door. I panicked and looked down at my cum-soaked hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck! As quickly as I could manage with one clean hand, I closed the video, put the laptop back where I'd found it, and grabbed a clean shirt from my closet. Tommy already had his shoes off when he saw me emerge from his room.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously as he got himself a glass of water from the kitchen. I kept as cool as I could, keeping the tone of my voice steady as my heart fought to leap out of my chest.

"Just about to hop in the shower," I said, showing him the shirt. I made sure to keep my soiled hand hidden as I did this. My response seemed to satisfy him, and he didn't pursue it any further. Instead, he walked past me, smelling strongly of alcohol, and plopped himself on the sofa. I hurried into the bathroom, washed my hands, and took a cold shower.

I drove Tommy to the airport the next morning. During the drive, he made no mention of his laptop, or the video of Janet, or even Janet herself. To this day, I still don't know if he ever discovered what I'd done.

"I was thinking," Tommy said, as we parted ways at the airport, "if you can spare a week or two over the summer, you should come visit me in Toronto."

Part 3 of 6: The Long Story

The same day that Tommy left, I got a text from Janet asking if I wanted to meet up for drinks. Tommy hadn't brought her name up once in any of our conversations, so maybe she had some info of her own she could share. She drove down from Coquitlam and parked in front of my building. I met her downstairs, and we walked to a pub down the street.

Janet looked terrific as always: skinny jeans, a light blouse, and her hair clipped to one side. I hadn't seen her at all during Tommy's visit, spending what time I could spare with my brother instead. I could hardly be blamed; he was only in town briefly, and I hardly saw him otherwise.

Our conversation began with the usual boring banter about work, and family, and mutual friends. Janet shared with me, first, that she was flying to L.A. on Monday to see Kiera over her summer break. Her break began before mine, so I was a bit jealous that I'd be working while she was enjoying the California sun.

As for me, work was a drag as usual, but at least my own break was only a week away. Relationshipwise, I was sleeping with my boss, Eunice: a Korean woman three years my senior. There was also Julia: a younger girl—also Korean—whom I'd met at a party.

As Janet and I chatted, my mind kept going to the video of her. Having now seen her topless, it was impossible to look at her the same way. Whenever she looked away, I would steal a peek at her tits, imagining her nipples brushing up against her bra. The thought turned me on very much, and I had to shift in my seat a few times as a result.

"And how's your family doing?" Janet asked, grabbing my attention back.

By family, I didn't know if she meant my entire family or my family sans Tommy. Was she looking for dirt on my brother? Did she have news she wanted to share? In the end, I figured I'd at least bring up his name and see how she would react.

"Tommy's doing well. He asked me to visit him next month. I'll have lots of time over the break, so I'm definitely considering it."

"I saw him last night," Janet replied.

I pretended to not already know and allowed her to elaborate.

They'd gone out for drinks and talked about—among other things—family, and work, and Nao. Not surprisingly, their own past relationship came up too. To me, Janet spoke matter-of-factly, stuck mostly to details, and didn't divulge any of her own feelings towards anything. Still, despite her calmness, I got the sense something was bubbling just below the surface.

"Can I ask you something?" I interjected, wanting to get to the heart of the matter. "It's been four years since you and Tommy broke up. Why haven't you moved on from him yet?"

Surprisingly, Janet did not take offense to my question. She must've known the question would come up eventually. It wasn't for a lack of opportunities, she explained. There were guys at work who hit on her daily. She took a swig of her beer and stared blankly at her glass. Placing it down on her coaster, she breathed in sharply and exhaled slowly, her eyes still locked on her glass.

"I know I should move on," Janet began. "I should've done so long ago. But a part of me always thought we'd get back together. I know I'm stupid for thinking this, and every day that goes by, I feel even stupider. It wasn't always like this. Our differences weren't so vast to make me give up hope. I hoped I could become the person he wanted me to be, or, if that didn't happen, maybe he would change into the person I wanted him to be."

There didn't seem to be any rhyme or order to what Janet was saying. She could tell I was a little confused and decided to start again.

"I guess I never told you why we broke up, did I?"

I shook my head.

"It wasn't any one thing," she continued. "It never is. When we started dating in high school, we were very likeminded. Perhaps that was a product of our shared environment. But after uni, we grew into two very different people. Tommy was out on his own and gaining new life experiences, it seemed, by the week.

"The distance didn't help. We loved each other, of course, but nothing can replace the touch of another person. We tried very hard to make it work. Despite the time difference and our busy schedules, we still set aside an hour every night to talk."

Janet paused to take another sip of her beer.

"I'm a little embarrassed to tell you this next part. I'm sure you'd rather not know this about us, but on weekends, if we could spare the time, Tommy and I would have sex over Skype. Maybe we were fooling ourselves into thinking we could bridge the distance. Like I said, there's no substitute for a person's touch, something we would both discover eventually. So, one night, during one of our Skype sessions, Tommy threw out the idea of opening our relationship to other people.

"My rational side accepted it right away. After all, it made sense given our situation. My heart, however, felt differently. But I couldn't just tear myself into two halves—not like him. A few years ago, when I said that you and Tommy were alike, this is what I meant by it.

"Your brother was steadfast in his belief that it could work. He'd seen how Japan was changing you, how the Waterloo experience had changed him, and when he looked at me, still a scared, introverted child­­, he must've gotten at least a little frustrated. It was his idea that I do some travelling and find myself.

"But after my experience in Japan, I returned home feeling no different from when I'd left. On topics unrelated to sex, my views and opinions expanded, but on the one topic that mattered, nothing changed. I don't know why. Maybe I didn't commit fully to finding those answers, expecting the passage of time alone, and not personal experiences, to shape me. Looking back, I certainly lived in Japan, but did I truly live in Japan? I didn't date or hook up with anyone. Heck, I didn't even try. I just counted the days till I could see Tommy again.

"As you know, I went to see him right after Japan. I didn't know what his expectations were; I just knew I was excited to see him. For the first week, things were amazing: we went out every night, talked into the wee hours of the morning, held each other, and made love nightly. Again, I'm sorry for being so—um—detailed.

"This started to change in the subsequent weeks. The elephant in the room hadn't been addressed, and the closer it got to my departure date, the more it affected our dynamic. Tommy needed to know if I was finally okay with an open relationship. He knew a married couple and invited them over for board games one night. The only way we were going to get any answers, he believed, was to test my limits.

"At one point in the night, we played some strip poker. Nothing crazy: just some stripteases and kissing. I learned that I could make out with another man and be okay with it. But when I saw Tommy kissing another woman, something seized up inside me, and I told them to stop. I felt awful for the couple—and even worse for Tommy.

"At the end of my stay, we made the difficult decision to break up. He didn't want to; it was my idea. I still hadn't figured things out on my end. A year in Japan didn't do it. A month with Tommy didn't do it either. It wasn't fair to him that my own personal issues were holding us both back."

Janet exhaled slowly, her eyes catching mine.

"These last four years, I've just been waiting for Tommy to come around. We still speak regularly and, of course, are still best friends. I know I'm dumb for saying this, but I never really felt like we'd broken up. For me, broken up was just a label that allowed us to carry on with our separate lives till the day came when we could be together again. Even when I found out about Nao months ago, I didn't waver. He'd slept with other women since our breakup, so how was Nao any different?

"But when Tommy introduced us, it was evident she wasn't just another girl. The two of them were holding hands, and kissing, and acting like a couple truly in love. My assumptions about them had been grossly inaccurate. I put on a brave face, but inside I was a mess. Tommy sensed this and asked to discuss the matter with me privately.

"We finally had a chance to talk last night. I said I was happy for him and wished him and Nao the best. Tommy wasn't quite sold, but—given our history—it was as much as he could expect. Tommy then asked how I was doing. I said I was single and ready to mingle, which, of course, is only half true. He was happy to hear this and, well, yeah—"

Janet downed the rest of her beer and made a face. The story had tired her out, and I got the sense she didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"The end," she concluded. "It is what it is."

"Cheers to that," I replied, stupidly, clinking my glass against hers. I downed the rest of my beer and then just sat there, unsure of how to respond. Janet had now bared herself to me—twice. I felt I needed to say something.

"I know these last few years have been difficult, but I've never known you to be a victim, and I know you'll pick yourself up off the mat and be happier for it."

"Thanks J_____," she replied. "That's nice of you to say."

We asked for the bill and squared our tab with the waitress. I stood up and put my coat on, and Janet did the same. She looked a little flushed, so I told her she was welcome to sober up at my place. "I should be fine to drive," she responded, adding, "I don't want to be a bother."

Outside, the late spring night was warm and windless. We started for her car, and that's when I could tell Janet was not okay. It was a struggle for her to stand up straight, let alone walk straight. I put my arm around her and helped her along. She was too drunk and weary to object and put her arm around me too. We only made it a few paces before she began to slow down. I turned to check if she was alright—or even awake at this point.

And that's when I saw she was crying. It started with just a single tear but quickly intensified to full-blown sobbing. Without thinking, I pulled her towards me, holding her close and letting her cry into my shoulder. I stroked the back of her head to comfort her, but the sobbing would not cease. We stayed like this, in each other's arms, even as passers-by looked on and snickered. Eventually, her breathing would stabilize. She placed the side of her face against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her more tightly to let her know I was there.