2 comments/ 15588 views/ 2 favorites Brick House Pt. 03 Ch. 03 By: tedszabopub All content copyright 2012 Ted Szabo This is part 3 of a longer work, "Brick House." Chapter 3 Kate and I didn't speak for the next few days, and I feared that what had once seemed like a pretty promising young relationship might have skipped middle age, galloped straight through its dotage, and moved on directly to an early grave. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200, Kate and Ted's Hook-Up RIP 20xy. However, when I did finally work up the nerve to call her Kate seemed glad to hear from me—bubbly—even excited. Encouraged by what looked to a pretty receptive attitude, I asked Kate out to a movie and spent the rest of the afternoon in a disgustingly good mood after she accepted. After a couple hours, my incessantly upbeat attitude began to grate on my roommates' nerves. "Ted, please, enough with the happy-ass humming," said Sam, one of my roommates and a long-time friend. "I'm trying to get my study on, and you're not helping. I mean, what the hell is that, anyway, Sound of Music or something? It's like little birdies are about to fly in here and start folding your shirts while you sing to them. Grow a pair, man." What Sam said barely registered. The mercury had topped eighty five degrees, and my mind was fully occupied imagining what Kate looked like in what she usually wore at these temperatures—really tiny, tight khaki shorts. That butt, those legs. Utterly delicious. A smorgasbord of perfect, flowing, scantily clad female lines. Al, another roommate--an incessant partier who seemed to be working on an advanced degree in Nothing In Particular, chimed in. "Yeah, it's getting pretty annoying. It's that new chick Kate, right? I remember you said you were going to ask her out this morning. First you drive us crazy with all the nervous pacing, and now you've got this sweetness and light thing going on. I'm going go wild here and guess she said yes." "All right, you negativistic buttholes," I said cheerfully. "See what happens the next time you're all excited because you're going out with some uber-hot lady friend. I'll just put on the death metal and mess up your whole vibe. You wait and see." Al and Sam groaned—Al somewhat indulgently, Sam not so much. "Fine, just to show you guys what a generous spirit I am I will now, despite your bitching, go out for beer. A six-pack of your choice, any brand, on me." "I'd settle for you just shutting up," said Sam. Al shrugged, turning to Sam. "Hey, it'll get him out of room for twenty minutes." Swiveling back toward me, Al said "Offer accepted. We'll take Heinekens. Now get the hell out of here." A few minutes later I left on the beer run, whistling a cheerful tune and ignoring all sounds of discontent from the, well... discontented. Evening found Kate and I seated, munching popcorn, at a theatre just south of campus. The movie wasn't bad—some spies-vs.-smugglers tale of suspense that featured a lot of tense-looking people trying to hunt each other down on a Ukranian freighter, and then a sub, and then the Eiffel Tower. Under other conditions I might have taken issue with the extraordinary amount of automatic weapons fire that had been discharged without much consequence in a submarine five thousand feet below the surface, but Kate was a constant, pleasant distraction. The scent of her freshly washed hair, the feel of her, pleasantly leaning into me beneath the arm I lay across her shoulders, and the occasional enticing glimpse of thigh seen out of the corner of my eye during the more brightly lit scenes--all of this seized my attention a good deal more firmly than the film's steely-eyed assassins. After the movie we dropped by a party one of Kate's sorority friends was holding and, five or six hours and as many Coronas later, we entered my apartment on slightly unsteady legs. All of my roommates were in bed, and looked to be asleep. Dean, a mechanical engineering major who I had met during my sophomore year, was mumbling in his sleep, something like "No Mom, I don't want to go on a game show, you do it..." "Shhhhhhh" Kate mock-whispered in a comically loud voice, index finger held against her lips. I started to laugh, and when it came out as loud bray I shoved my mouth into the crook of my elbow to muffle the sound. This, of course, only made the two of us laugh even harder. The two of us made for my bed and, about half way there, Kate let out a loud burp that came out at the exact same time as a chuckle, leading to further hilarity. "Oh my God... so embarrasing..." said Kate with a giggle. "Wow, so unladylike!" I responded, tumbling onto my mattress and pulling her down with me. "Well, I guess you know what you're getting into." Kate pressed her lips against my neck, kissing me hard, something I had learned she tended to do spontaneously when aroused. "Oh, I'm going to getting into something all right." I responded, unbuttoning Kate's shorts. Kate moved her lips to my ear, whispering hoarsely. "Lout! Cad! A real gentleman would let a lady's minor gastrointestinal indiscretion pass without comment. You have besmirched me, sir!" She was panting now, and flush. I worked her bottoms, shorts and panties both, down along her legs, over her ankles, and off. Holy crap she had great legs, I thought for thousandth time. Years of competitive track and field had been kind to them, toning and filling out curves without adding enough bulk to detract from her femininity. I kissed one bare thigh, and then the other. "And now," said Kate in a sort of aroused hiss, "this uncouth lad thinks he can violate the lady's honor?" Suddenly I was atop Kate, and inside her. I couldn't even remember spreading her thighs, or the act of penetration, even though they obviously must have occurred only moments before. There was only the now, the hot, moist now, with Kate's arms right around my neck and her heels pressed hard against the small of my back. I was riding her hungrily, thrusting with deep, quick strokes. What had started out as a quiet act, punctuated with small gasps of delight, became increasingly noisy. "Gahhhd," Kate moaned. "Aw gahhhhd." By now I knew that Kate tended to secrete heavily, but this was the wettest I could ever remember her and sometimes, after a particularly energetic thrust, I would take a moment to rest, still, inside Kate, enjoying the feeling of my cock stewing in her juices. I was so hard that in my drunken state I imagined myself some massive beast, a rhino perhaps, furiously mounting its mate. This, of course, was something I never passed along to Kate, as it seemed clear that the rhino analogy might not be taken as entirely complimentary on her part. Our lovemaking was over quickly, leaving both of us spent and groggy. "That was good, Ted," Kate murmured as she began to fall asleep, words slurring. "I liked it. Did you like it?" I started to answer, but Kate was snoring softly before I could get a word out. Within a few minutes I was asleep as well. By the time we woke the room was unpleasantly warm, and I pushed the blanket that had been covering Kate and I off my chest. I checked my phone. Noon. Kate was facing away from me, toward the wall, and seemed to still be asleep. Doubting she would mind being wakened at such a later hour, I scooted next to her, spooning, the fronts of my thighs pressed against the back of hers. I wrapped one arm over her, pressing my palm against Kate's flat, well-muscled belly. I felt her stir almost immediately, breaths deepening as she woke. "Why, hello there stranger," said Kate softly. She snuggled against me, pressing her bottom against my privates, and in response I pushed my face into Kate's rather thoroughly mussed hair, inhaling her scent. Both of our lower bodies were still covered by a blanket, with the exception of one of Kate's legs, which was visible all the way up to her hip. She was developing a bit of tan, and I took a moment to enjoy the view. "You know," I said, "you are insanely hot. Like, too hot to be a real chick. Jessica Rabbit hot." "Mmm, last night I did somehow get the feeling you found me a teensy bit attractive, just maybe. A sign of good taste, to be sure." One of my roommates, Sam, had gone out, but Al was still in bed, asleep, and Dean appeared to have just woken up. He was sitting on the edge of his bed in his underwear, absently scratching his day-old beard. When I spoke, Dean turned toward us, "I'll say she's hot!" he announced, "better by a mile than the stray cats that hound usually drags home." Kate was silent for a moment, and I assumed she was deciding whether or not to be offended at the odd sort-of compliment. Finally, she just laughed. The ladies seemed to find Dean thoroughly handsome and engaging no matter what he said, something that had evoked a bit of envy in me on more than one occasion. "Morning, Dean," Kate said. Dean had invited Kate and I to a party being thrown by a girlfriend-for-about-two-weeks-total, and Kate seemed to like him well enough. Like most people, she found it difficult to get a handle on Dean's sense of humor, and persona in general. It took about a year to get to know Dean well enough to figure out when the guy was joking and when he was dead serious, and even then it could be touch and go. "I guess this is your first time spending the night in our classy abode. Welcome," Dean said, waving his hand around the one-room apartment in a dramatic gesture. "I thought I heard some sweet female-ish type sounds in the night, but when you've been rocked away to sleepyland by Bartles, James, and fifteen or so of their closest friends it's hard to say." "Ah, well, sounds like you may be as much in need of some of coffee and aspirin as Ted and I," Kate answered. She turned toward me. "We may actually need to get out of this bed soon, woe is me." At this point Al woke, his buzz-cut head rising above a nappy coverlet. "Hola," he said, waving a sloppy salute in the general direction of Kate and myself. We greeted him in return. "If you guys are going out for coffee and breakfast... er, lunch, I am inviting myself along. The official third wheel. Well, fourth wheel, if you count Dean." "Why do I always have to be the third wheel?" said Dean drily. "You should let me be the fourth wheel for once. It's agreed. We will all embark for the drinking of the coffee." Dean nodded assertively, his head of shaggy, jet-black hair flopping energetically to and fro. "Speaking of drinking," said Kate, "it's time for me to head to the little girl's room. Her hands roamed around under the sheet, feeling for clothes. I leaned close in to Kate, her glossy hair tickling my nose, and whispered "You don't need that, just go ahead." Kate turned her face back toward me with a quizzical expression and then seemed to remember. "Ah, right, your 'arrangement.'" She hesitated for moment, looking annoyed and amused in about equal parts, and then said, "Ah, what the hell, when in Rome..." Kate took a deep breath, steeling herself, and I moved aside so she could get out of bed without climbing over me. In the couple of seconds it took Kate to gain her feet she had already started blushing. There was nothing covering her now but a short tank top that left her pelvic region completely exposed. As Kate walked the ten odd feet to the bathroom, she at first tried to cover herself with her hands, but then murmured "Ah, what the hell" again let her arms fall to her sides. True to form, neither Dean nor Al felt compelled to make a gentlemanly gesture by looking away or otherwise demurring. They had a few seconds to stare at Kate and took full advantage. Dean nodded admiringly, and Al issued a low whistle. The view was superb from my point of view (the rear) as well. Kate upper thighs framed her vaginal lips in that open "diamond" shape that only women with the tightest, most toned bodies seem to have. Her long, glossy hair, mussed from the night's activities, cascaded down her back, brushing back and forth across a wonderfully defined yet still entirely feminine musculature. "God damn," I breathed to myself. After Kate entered the bathroom (maybe slamming the door just a little) my roommates peered directly at me and both gave me an abrupt, wordless, "thumbs up" that was so well-synchronized it was comical. It wasn't that they had never seen a girl as striking as Kate in a state of undress before, they definitely had, but that had by no means kept them from greatly enjoying the treat of Kate's brief march across the room. After lunch I walked Kate back to her dorm and we kissed before she went in. The kiss went on for a while, and if she was pissed about me showing her off it wasn't apparent. Still, I wondered whether Kate might be trying to decide whether she needed to forget about me and hook up with more of a normal guy. However unsavory Kate might have found my living situation, it didn't keep her from calling me to chat the next day, or the one after that. Much of our time was consumed by our studies, and many of our conversations ended up revolving around one class or another. Kate liked to read me sections of lit papers she was working on, asking me for suggestions that she almost always rejected. "You're just trying to figure out the professor's biases and then use them to kiss ass in the paper," she told me more than once. "You are so bad." "Hey, less time slaving away for those profs means more time slaving away for me," I typically said in response. This generally earned me a stern speech about how about I damn well better remember she was no one's slave, which I usually managed to interrupt by yelling "Do my bidding, woman!" in a preposterously gruff, cave-manish sort of voice. Once Kate was reduced to giggles, I felt I could declare myself the winner of the argument. Wednesday evening rolled around and after meeting up for dinner at Kate's dorm we went up to her room to "study." It was a true "girly room," though I never would have used that term in front of Kate--all puppy posters and pastels, everything arranged just so. The space had been set up in such a way that each rommate had an identical amount of study space, sleeping space, and storage space. There was nary a dirty sock or grimy shot glass to be seen. Actually kind of sexy, I thought, the femininity overload. It was just the sort of place a guy wanted to mess up a little bit. I imagined what the joint would look like with blankets and clothing strewn wildly across the floor, with Kate laying there amongst thoroughly rumpled sheets, her bra hanging from a lamp. For a half hour or so we actually did study, but after a small dose of math and ancient civ Kate and I found ourselves side by side, embracing, on the edge of her bed. My lips traced the line of her shoulder, and I pulled her tightly against me. Kate made this satisfied yet sort of hungry-sounding purring noise that was sexy as hell. We both looked up at the sound of the door opening, and the room's other occupant, a whispy blond girl who seemed to take almost everything quite seriously, entered. At the sight of Kate and I in each other's arms she made a faint "tutt"-ing sound and took a seat at her desk, dumping several large books from her pack. The girl flipped on her desk light and opened one of the tomes, scooting in close to her work area. In a low tone I hoped was pretty much imperceptible more than two feet away I murmured to Kate "Tutt? Who the heck says that anymore? I feel like we just got caught being naughty by Queen Victoria. Tutt?" Kate pressed both hands to mouth, stifling laughter. "You're awful," she squeaked from behind her palms "... so mean!" "Or maybe she means 'Tut,' as in 'King Tut.'" Kate shook her head, mouth still covered. "Buried with a donkey... he's my favorite honkey!" I said, launching into my best Steve Martin impression. "Stop..." "Sing it with me! Rockin' for a mile, he ate a crocodile..." A few minutes later, Kate and I tried to return to our amorous activities, but after a couple of cross sniffs from Alicia (or "Queen Alicia," as I now thought of her), we desisted. Kate turned to me. "OK, I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's go over to your apartment," Kate said. "I'd rather get ogled by your horny friends than put up with this. At least I know they aren't going to mind us getting affectionate." As we walk out the door, I shifted back to my Steve Martin tenor, belting out "Gave his life... for tourism!" throatily. Neither Kate nor I had classes the next day, due to cancellations, so Kate took me up an offer to sleep over at my place. We met up for lunch a fast food joint after completing morning study sessions with groups from our respective classes and then hiked over to Kate's dorm room so she could gather up a few things for the visit. Kate grabbed a couple additional textbooks and a few toiletries and we headed out. On the way over to my place she blew off a bit of steam concerning Alicia and the girl's various annoying habits. I tried to pay attention and respond in all of the right places but, honestly, all I could think about was the fact that I was going to have Kate in bed with me that night. The way she had been the first time we had had sex, cursing and thrashing and then pressing her face hard against my chest just before climaxing, played over and over in my head. "Yes, uh, huh," I said, for perhaps the sixth or seventh time in a row. "Ted, are you even listening to me," Kate said, annoyed. "Am I boring you?" "No... No! Hon, of course not. I'm just a little distracted. Um... that astrophysics class, it's kind of kicking my butt." We were passing through a good-sized crowd of students headed in the opposite direction and I looked around, embarrassed. Uh oh, first fight, I thought, please let it not unfold somewhere excruciatingly public. Maybe I could still head off this crazy horse at the pass—err, or something. I tried to think of a better expression. What was it that someone headed off at the pass? Bandits? A stage coach? Not a crazy horse, certainly. "Really, well maybe I should just go back to my place and leave you to your lovely star charts." Kate crossed her arms and gave me her I-will-take-no-shit-from-you-buddy look. After a couple minutes of ardently promising that yes I would really really make Kate the absolute focus of my attention for the evening, we continued on. Wow, I thought, for a hard-core student Kate wasn't very sympathetic about the tribulations of another hard-core student. Well, medium-core anyway. Unfortunately, after we arrived at the apartment Kate actually wanted to return to studying—she was worried about what looked to be tough quiz scheduled later that week. "Hey, you keep complaining about your astrophysics," Kate said. "Well, now's your chance to crack the books. Star charts, buddy. With your roomies not getting back from that road trip until the wee hours, this is the perfect time to get some study time in without anyone channel surfing or cranking up the sound system." For a while I did crack the books and, after finishing up my own assignments, offered to help Kate study for her quiz, hoping to earn at least a few brownie points. I did my best to be a supportive boyfriend (or, at least, maybe/eventually kind-of boyfriend) and assisted Kate as best I could but, once again, became thoroughly distracted. Kate was wearing a form-fitting lycra top that perfectly outlined the side swells of her breasts, and all I could think about was getting it off her. Despite my lack of effectiveness as a study partner, Kate's mood seemed to improve steadily, and it began to seem at least possible that I was out of the doghouse. After we went to bed we kissed a few times, but Kate stopped me before things could go any further. "Hey, not that I don't like the attention, but I'm really tired," Kate said, yawning. "Been studying like crazy all day and I did two hours of plyometrics this morning. Let the lady get her beauty rest and I promise she will look extra cute for you tomorrow." Brick House Pt. 03 Ch. 03 I tried to hide my disappointment, hoping Kate might change her mind, but she rolled to her side and was asleep in a few minutes. A couple of hours worth of fitful tossing later, I was asleep as well, but awoke frequently, disturbed by the slightest sound. When Al turned on some late night talk show, I woke—and when he turned it off, oddly enough, I woke again. Sam spent an hour so chatting with some new girlfriend, a Swiss co-ed, from around one AM on; and though he was speaking in a voice so low I couldn't make out any individual words I remained awake throughout the entire conversation. I awoke the next morning to the titillating, though slightly painful, feeling of Kate nibbling on my right ear lobe. When I turned toward her she favored me with a brilliant, well-rested smile, her face pleasantly close to mine. "Good morning, sleepy head," she said. "Good morning yourself, you absurdly sexy angel you," I answered. Kate rolled her eyes, grinning. "Oh brother, does that work on all of the ladies? Are we that gullible?" I answered by kissing her deeply, and she responded in kind, flicking my tongue with hers. I gripped the edges of her night shirt, a silky, sheer affair, pulling it up with the intent of slipping it off altogether. The memory of Kate's Lycra top pulled taut at the sides of her breasts was suddenly fresh in my mind. Kate put her hands on my shoulders. "Wait a second you—all your roommates are here. I know a couple of them have had quite a good look at me, but come on now..." The guys were indeed present. One of them, Dean, was awake, reading in bed. I thought I noticed him glancing curiously around the edge of his book. Al was still asleep, snoring a bit, and appeared to have company. I saw a pale face topped by tight red curls nestled next to his. Samantha, I was pretty sure she was named. She and Al seemed to have an on-and-off thing. Sam, my other roommate, looked to still be asleep as well. I took Kate's hands in mine, pulling them gently but insistently over her head. "It's OK, Kate, no one will care, and if you aren't comfortable with having sex that's fine, but I really need to get you out of that shirt." "Well, she said, I'm not sure..." I quickly tugged the slinky garment up and over Kate's hands, baring her breasts. She let out a soft, surprised "Oh" and quickly pulled the blanket up to shoulder level. In response, I moved down, underneath the blanket, quickly cupping her right breast and pulling the nipple into my mouth. "Oh!" she gasped, a bit louder. I knew from experience how sensitive Kate's nipples were, and how quickly the right touch could arouse her. I sucked insistently, but not too hard, just barely drawing her right nipple into my mouth. At the same time, I moved my other hand to Kate's left breast, running my fingertips lightly across the areola. I reveled in the feel of Kate's tits—full, round, deliciously firm—most of the adjectives I could summon sounded like something from Washington State Apple Commission ad copy—but hey, I figured, if the fruit fit... I lifted and cupped them, squeezing ever so slightly. How do you like them apples? I asked myself. Oh, I like them quite a lot—oh yes I surely do, I answered. The nipple in my mouth grew engorged, a firm nub pressing against my lips. I withdrew my lips, instead massaging the nipple with my tongue. I found that when I moved my tongue in a circular motion around the areola, Kate's reaction seemed particularly profound. She moaned and squirmed, arching her back. Arousing Kate so intensely caused me to respond in kind, and my member was soon pressing hard against the seam of my sweatpants. I quickly pulled off my clothes and then, more comfortable, returned my attention to Kate's breasts. I shifted to her left nipple, sucking and then caressing it with my tongue in the same way I had the right. At the same time, I moved my thumb back and forth across the crest of her right breast, now well-wetted. Kate was breathing hard now. I peeked up through the upper fold of the blanket and saw her face, upturned, her eyes closed. Realizing I had paused in my ministrations, Kate looked down at me through slitted eyes. Her arousal appeared to be so immersive it had eclipsed any emotion, anything else she was feeling. I saw nothing but lust—which at that moment suited me just fine. I moved back below the blanket, alternating between breasts, gorging on them. My hands, lips, and tongue found every square inch of Kate's chest, exploring the sweeping arc of her cleavage, placing strings of kisses along the curve of her clavicle, and gradually working back down to her nipples. Neither of us seemed to tire of it, and I'm not sure how long it went on. At first the sounds that issued from Kate were quiet—shy, but as her level of stimulation escalated she became increasingly vocal. When I suckled, she would sometimes put her hands behind my head—pressing me closer and encouraging me. There were a few times she even whispered instructions. "Now the left nipple," she would gasp, "pull it all the way into your mouth, suck it harder." It grew hot under the blanket, and a little difficult to breathe, but I was too excited to stop. I could tell Kate's pleasure was building steadily, minute by minute, and I fed off that pleasure, drinking in every gasp and sigh like an exquisitely fine wine. I liked it most when Kate's excitement found expression in tiny bursts—a brief, loud "Oh," found by a quickening of her breath. Kate's torso became slick, both with her perspiration and my saliva. After a time, Kate let out a little shriek, arching back even more, and pushed my head away from her. I knew she had climaxed. This had happened before, her achieving orgasm purely from the stimulation of her breasts (she claimed it had never happened with anyone except me, providing a significant boost to my ego), so I readily recognized what had happened. I moved my head out from beneath the blanket and regarded Kate's flushed, beautiful face. She was still breathing heavily. "You... are... so... naughty." Kate gave me a small smile and hiked the blanket, which had started to settle down across her chest, back up to chin level. The relatively cool air felt good against my cheeks and forehead. We lay side by side on our backs for a moment, Kate's breathing gradually returning to normal. She whispered to me, "I think we woke up your friends." Kate appeared to be correct. All four of them, including Samantha, were peering toward us. None of them made any effort to pretend nothing of interest had been going on. Samantha, who had hung out with us enough to know our habits, was no more reticent than the others. Kate gave them a small wave and the whole gang murmured "good morning" in response. "My God, this is going to take some getting used to," Kate whispered to me. Brick House Pt. 03 Ch. 04 All content copyright 2012 Ted Szabo This is part 4 of a longer work, "Brick House.". It includes chapter four. While this chapter does not have erotic content, many of others do. It is included for the convenience of readers interested in the larger story. * I was about halfway back from my afternoon class at the engineering mall when the clouds burst. Heavy, round drops splattered on the sidewalk in front of me and I could hear them impacting, with surprisingly loud "tings," on the metallic surfaces of cars around me. A few seconds later, I felt the first wet chill of moisture spreading across my scalp. Great, I thought. Spectacular. With another ten minutes left between me and the apartment, and no convenient places between there and my current location to wait out the weather, a cold soaking was pretty much assured. It had been a hectic day, starting out with a last-minute cram session for an impending aerodynamics exam, followed by the exam itself. After the test I had made my way to the library for a couple hours of brainstorming with several other students I had engaged with on a group project. This had gone fairly well, and I felt that the team had an excellent chance of acing the assignment. From there it had been a short trek to the lecture hall where my Transactional Information Systems class was being taught, and I spent the next ninety minutes watching the prof hurl various inscrutable algorithms onto the surface of an electronic white board and furiously tapping notes into my tablet. I had left the hall tired, somewhat baffled, and determined to go back to the apartment and embark on a deep review of all my set theory notes from the previous semester. The rain began to fall harder now. With the initial vanguard of watery troops dispatched across the field of battle, the raindrop horde was clearly ready to cast the main body of its muster into the fray. "Heh," I muttered to myself with grim laugh, "I wonder if they'll send in their 'storm troopers?'" I immediate shook my head, castigating myself for uttering the wretched pun, even with no one else around to hear it. "Bad geek, bad! " I muttered. As I neared the apartment, I found I increasingly had the street to myself. It appeared that most of the other students that normally traversed this part of campus had probably decided to delay their movements until the downpour passed. Of those few that were out and about, the majority seemed to have done a better job than I of planning for the weather, and were wearing water-resistant jackets or carrying umbrellas. I saw only a couple other unfortunate scholars who were getting as thoroughly soaked as I. Drops of moisture began to combine in icy runnels down my back, and my head and neck might as well have been immersed. My shirt, a plain cotton short-sleeve, was rapidly soaking through. I increased my pace, tromping sullenly through newly formed puddles. A thunder clap rolled over me, preceded by a jab of lighting that had flickered in my peripheral vision less than a second before. Boogers, I thought, pretty damn close. Thunderstorms were common in the area and, this time of year, were prone to spawning tornadoes. I comforted myself with the fact that I at least ought to be able to get indoors before any twisters hit. A few second later, another lightning bolt struck—close, I thought, probably striking the stadium, and the accompanying thunder was atop me in a shuddering crush of sound. Clearly, this was not good--the heart of the damn storm was right on top of me. I worked through pretty much my entire vocabulary of four-letter words over the course of the next fifteen seconds, cursing my luck and lack of foresight and remedial cursing skills under my breath. Contrary to expectations—mine, anyway, the sky was strangely light. Boiling black thunderheads almost completely darkened perhaps two thirds of sky—the two thirds in front of and immediately around me--but the cloud cover directly to my rear was minimal and a fair amount of ambient illumination still was still present. This created stark, strange variations in luminosity that somehow made every detail of my surroundings "pop." I felt like I had walked onto one of Frank Miller's chiaroscuro splash pages. I turned a corner and squelched my way across an empty intersection, congratulating myself on the fact that I was entering the home stretch—just a couple blocks to go. At this point I crossed the crest of a gently sloping hill, a residential neighborhood stretching before me, two stories of brick-façade apartment buildings of the same design and generation as the one I lived in arranged in neat procession to either side of the street. By this time I was alone, with no sign of pedestrian or vehicular traffic in sight. Since there were no garages or parking structures in the area those students with cars had no choice but to park at the curb, and the street was lined with empty vehicles, silent and still. This was the moment, the precise moment, at which my world turned white. Not the flat, neutral white of a paper sheet, or the throbbing off-white of a fluorescent bulb, but the pure, consuming, monstrously bright white at the tip of plasma torch. My entire field of vision was filled and, just for a moment, every car, building, hedge, and freshly created puddle of water disappeared from view. At the same time an abrupt, painful din struck my ears—a sound I felt in my teeth and jaws. My very own thunderclap, up close and personal. An instant later the world returned in all of its soggy gray glory as the car alarms in a half-dozen nearby vehicles simultaneous went off, filling the air with an obnoxious variety of honks, multi-octave slurs, and clamorous toots. I stood transfixed for moment, in the midst of the cacophony, dazed and mute. What the hell, I asked myself, had just happened? I glanced at my limbs, half-expecting to see an assortment of hideous burns—but there was nothing. Perhaps, I thought, a bolt had struck nearby, nearly missing me. I peered around, looking for any evidence that might support this notion, but there were no signs of telltale damage to any of the nearby trees. The precise nature of what had happened at that moment never became clear. It was, I told myself, just one of those things. Late that night I was awaked by an knot of throbbing pain just behind my eyes. it was the first in a series of headaches that would plague me for years to come. A few weeks later I received a head injury, the result of a foolish and perhaps slightly comical mishap, and from that point on the headaches became both increasingly severe and much more frequent. Brick House Pt. 03 Ch. 05 All content copyright 2012 Ted Szabo This is part 5 of a longer work, "Brick House." Chapter 5 I didn't see much of Kate over the course of the next couple weeks, as we were both pretty thoroughly weighed down by other commitments. She spent about half of her weekends visiting her folks in Valparaiso, a routine which I both vaguely hoped and vaguely dreaded Kate might invite me to join. On one hand, meeting her folks would have cleared up any boy-friend-yes-or-no-is-he-or-isn't-he questions that were still floating around, but on the other—well, I would have to meet the parents. An assault on the rhetorical bastions of the grandchild-craving alliance's grand fortress of rectitude was something I just wasn't up for. I was pretty sure they'd had about ten good years to dig in around that fortress and I wasn't breaching the battlements. During one such visit Kate gave me a call, cheerfully catching me on her doings. It sounded like she was doing well—hanging out with cousins with names like Nalech and Mo. I wasn't quite sure what was up with Kate's extended family, ethnicity-wise, but they seemed like a pleasant-enough bunch. After an hour or so Kate signed off, indicating that she was going sunbathing with some girls she had known since high school who had happened to roll into town. The day Kate returned, a Sunday, we met for lunch. Her tan was a shade darker and she'd had a haircut, bringing her glossy mane up around shoulder length. Kate wore a short, loose skirt and a low-cut sleeveless top that showed off the top halves of her breasts in a wonderfully exuberant manner. We sat side-by-side as we ate, brushing up against each other in that cute, cuddly, goo-goo eyes way the other restaurant patrons must have found disgusting (I know I find it disgusting, when it's not me doing the cuddly thing goo goo thing, anyway). After I paid the check Kate kissed me on the cheek, just below my ear, and breathed "Your place" in a slightly hoarse whisper. As we approached the apartment entrance, Kate and I were greeted by strains of recorded music. As it was muffled by the relatively thick outer door, almost all we could hear was the regularly timed thump of base notes. It was soulful, romantic stuff—what the guys like to call a "slow jam." I had learned that when a slow jam filled the air there was a better than even chance that one of my rommates had company, as tunes of this sort were employed strictly for purposes of seduction. The song echoed throughout the concrete stairwell, mixing, in irritating fashion, with faster-paced top forty stuff coming through an open doorway on the lower level. Once we reached the door we were able to hear moans—one voice low, another high but husky, coming from the room. The music had been loud enough to cover the vocalizations from a distance, but at this point everything was coming through pretty clearly. As I moved to open the door Kate gave me a pensive look. "Should we... go somewhere else?" she said. I shook my head. "No. Remember, that's not how we do things here. In fact, Sam--that's who it sounds like, would actually be offended if he found out I did such a thing because then he'd have to start worrying about who might need the place to themselves when he wants to go in, and our whole system would be screwed. Also—remember, if there is something going on, don't look away or act embarrassed—if you do, that'll just make them embarrassed too and mess up their vibe." Her expression uneasy, Kate nodded her head as I opened the door and we walked through. We were immediately greeted by a rather explicit tableau. Sam was stretched out naked on his bed and his girlfriend, Yolanda, was on top of him. Yolanda's bare hips rolled rhythmically in time to the music as she rode him, concentration and pleasure mixing in equal parts on her pretty, expressive face. Yolanda had the mocha-hued skin tones that often accompany mixed parentage—one aspect of a remarkable complexion that had no truck with moles, freckles or any other sort of blemish. I had seen her nude before, but never more than glimpses, and was finding the view thoroughly acceptable. With a twinge of jealousy I wondered whether Kate was having an equally enjoyable time checking out Sam who, I had to admit, was no slouch in the physique department. I looked over at Kate and had to stifle a chuckle that threated to sneak out of a traitorous rib cage that was clearly not completely on board with my romantic aspirations. Her mouth was gaping a bit, and her eyes looked huge. "Um, um well..." she mumbled. I took Kate's arm, intending to lead her over to kitchen so we could sit and pop open a couple of beers, but she seemed rooted to the spot, mesmerized. She glanced toward me but I could tell she was still not really able to shift her attention away from what was transpiring before us. She mumbled again, eyes moving back toward the bed. "Yes, ah, we should... we should..." Yolanda's pace had quickened a bit, her breath escaping out in little bursts. She pulled Sam's hands to her breasts, which were definitely more than a handful, and he fondled them enthusiastically. I thought I heard him mutter something like "Freakin' awesome" under his breath. The song that had been playing when we entered the room completed and the next one on the play list began, this one even more romantic and slow—some sort of duet. The plodding melody was jarringly inconsistent with the increasingly hectic pace of Yolanda's movements as she neared climax. Sam's face had that glazed look that told me he was trying to keep from ejaculating before Yolanda was done. I leaned close to Kate and murmured "I think they're going to come pretty soon—if that's going to be a little much we could go sit in the kitchen." We started to move toward the back of the apartment, though Kate was still obviously having trouble looking away from Yolanda and Sam. Once we entered the kitchen area Kate and I were a bit farther from the lovemaking but the view was, if anything, more graphic. Yolanda's bottom was fully visible, bobbing up and down, with a foot folded under each cheek. Sam's balls were prominently displayed, and the base of his shaft became visible each time Yolanda rose, her vaginal lips stretched out around it. Kate and I sat at the counter and I got out a couple beers. I took a swig from mine, but Kate left hers untouched. The couple's moans became louder. Sam shouted "Oh—oh God" and started bucking his hips frantically. Yolanda shuddered and squeaked, raking her fingernails across Sam's chest. Their completion seemed to break Kate's spell and she turned to me. "I think I need to go for a run. Want to go on a run with me?" I nodded and gathered my exercise gear. We were soon on the way to the head of our favorite trail and, after dropping by Kate's room so she could change, spent the next half hour or so jogging around the north end of campus. On a few occasions I tried to make conversation but Kate barely reacted. She didn't appear angry, or even really disturbed, just preoccupied. After one particularly long stretch of silence I asked Kate "You OK?" She took a moment to answer. "I'm fine, it's just a lot, you know. It's not something I'm used to." "I understand. It must have been a little shocking, with it being so abrupt like that." Kate didn't answer, and seemed deep in thought. "Do you, um, do you..." She hesitated for a moment, obviously feeling a bit shy about whatever she wanted to say. "Go ahead Kate, you can ask me anything." "It's just... Do you think Sam's girlfriend—that was Yolanda, right? Do you think she's better looking than me? Give me your honest opinion; don't just flatter me because we're dating." We reached a traffic light and ran in place while we waited for the traffic to clear. I phrased my answer carefully, knowing I was entering a bit of a land mine. "Really, honestly, it's not even close. Yolanda's a great-looking woman, but you're breathtaking. Your gorgeous features, the way you're toned and trim but still have great curves. I mean, guys just about get whiplash trying to check you when you enter a room." Kate chuckled a bit, but still wore a look of concern. The way clear, we moved across the street, heading east back toward the apartment. "But, you know, her..." "Yes, Yolanda's boobs are pretty big, and pretty nice, but you're definitely not bad in that respect either. Most women would kill to fill out a bikini top half as well as you do. Anyway, your body types are just different. Breasts the size of Yolanda's would just look funny on you." Kate smiled, appearing a bit more relaxed, and said, "OK, if you say so. You better not be shittin' me, mister. I don't take kindly to false compliments." "Hey, you don't have to take my word for it that people think you have an awesome bod. A few weeks back when the guys got a peek at you without your pants, they were blown away. They were going on for days about how hot you are." "Really?" Kate answered. I had been a bit hesitant about bringing up that incident, afraid that doing so might remind her she had been slightly pissed with at me at the time, but this didn't appear to be the case at all. Kate seemed quietly pleased, confident. "Not that I would care what a couple of pervs who stared at me while I was on my way to the bathroom would think of how I look," Kate added unconvincingly. We entered the apartment sweaty and fairly tired. The summer heat had lasted well into fall, with only the occasional storm system providing relief, and the last portion of our run and ended up being more laborious than pleasurable as a result. No one else was in the room, though a note had been left on my desk. It was in Yolanda's handwriting. "The guys and I all went to dinner over at Dennys, will be back soon. PS Hope you enjoyed the show! XXXOOO" Kate read the note with me. When she got to the second line she lifted her hands to her face, aghast. "Oh my god, I was totally staring at them. She must hate me!" I gave Kate a quick hug. "No, hon, that's not it at all. You're misunderstanding her completely. The part about enjoying the show isn't meant to be sarcastic at all. She really means it." Kate brought her hands down, clasping them hopefully in front of her. "Are you sure?" Clearly she wanted to believe me and was trying to figure out whether or not she could. "Actually, I am sure. Yolanda knows she's hot, and she knows Sam's hot, and she likes to show off—in fact, she loves showing off. Sam says that when they get walked in on it totally amps up her arousal." This meshed well enough with what we had seen that Kate seemed to be buying it. "Yeah, I guess she didn't exactly seem to mind it when we came in." Kate looked back at the letter and then turned to me again, giving me a quick punch in the shoulder. "What's with the hugs and kisses at the end there? That's pretty affectionate, sir." "Hey, what can I say, she's flirtatious. Yolanda probably would have written the note the same way if she'd left it for one of the other guys—or you, for that matter." This seemed to mollify Kate, at least somewhat. "Fine, just so she remembers who belongs to whom. You can't blame me for being a little weirded out when someone leaves you a firty note right after you've them buck naked and having an orgasm." We downed a couple glasses of ice water and a few energy bars and then hopped in the shower. Kate and I washed each other off, and by the time we got out we were pretty worked up. I found Kate's form enticing in its entirety but on some occasions there were certain portions of her anatomy on which I found myself focusing with a libido-driven fascination that bordered on fervor. In this case it was the small of her back that had seized my attention as I drew slick, soapy hands down over it, amazed by the unutterably sexy manner in which it sat at the nexus of three arcs—the subtle widening of her torso as it opened up into her rib cage, the eye-catching, slightly curved line of her spine arching toward her upper back, and the dramatic flare of well-muscled but gorgeously feminine hips just below. The way a shallow dimple appeared to each side of the base of Kate's back when she stood perfectly erect, emphasizing the perfect quadratic Bezier countours of her suds-covered buttocks, drove me particular crazy--say what you will about the element of geekiness inherent in the wording of that observation. At one point at had put placed my thumbs to either side of that nexus, wrapping my hands around Kate's taut obliques, and noted that when I did this the tips of fingers were only a few inches apart. "My lord, you have a tiny waist," I muttered, tightening my grip just enough to fully enjoy the firmness of her sides and belly. "You're really into that, aren't you?" Kate had said softly, laughing. "It gets you all hot and bothered." By the time she'd completed the statement her voice was shaky with arousal, spread from my soul to hers like a fever-inducing contagion. By the time we departed the show stall my penis was sticking out in front of me like a flag pole, its swollen knob of a tip bobbing around like then end of a drunken orchestra conductor's baton. The air was still pretty balmy, so I replaced the blanket on my bed with a light sheet. Kate and I slipped under it. Her body was still warm from the shower, hair wet and fragrant. We kissed a few times, but were both breathing so hard it was hard to keep our lips together. I shifted, moved on top of Kate, supporting myself on my elbows. Kate loosened her embrace, her eyes wandering toward the apartment door. In a husky voice she said, "They're... the others are going to be back soon." I placed a light kiss on her forehead. "If you want we can stop when we hear them coming up the stairwell. You know how these cinderblock structures are. You can hear everyone coming from a mile away." With that I pushed my knees between Kate's thighs, opening her up, and then lowered myself. I entered Kate almost immediately, pushing all the way into her. The quickness of it caught her by surprise. I usually took my time when initiating vaginal sex, moving my tip around her opening until she was thoroughly moistened and then gradually working my way in with increasingly deep thrusts. This time, though, I was pretty impatient, and I knew from feeling Kate in the shower that she was ready for me. Kate made a choked sound, her head snapping back. I pulled out, withdrawing from her completely, and thrust all the way in again, hard. Kate yelled wordlessly, loud enough to be heard in the neighboring apartments, and spread her legs wide, kicking them so far out to each side she was almost doing the splits. Her left foot hit the window sill above the bed hard enough to leave a bruise and her right leg pushed out from under the sheet completely. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her toes were pointed sharply downward like a ballerina's. I soon found a rhythm, glorying in the feel of Kate's responding beneath me. I brought my upper body further down onto her so I could feel her breasts pressed against me. She breathed my name in a high, quavering voice, urging me on. "That's it, it's so good... keep doing that. You feel so good in me." Footsteps and laughter echoed up the stairway, the others returning from their meal. Kate glanced at the apartment door, gulping, but didn't ask me to stop. There was now so much wetness between her legs that there was a moist popping sound every time I pulled back from a thrust. Footsteps and voices could now be heard just beyond the door as Yolanda and the guys approached. The doorknob turned. I kept going, ignoring the others—at that moment they pretty much didn't exist, as far as I was concerned—but Kate's eyes rolled toward the door. "Oh God..." she whispered hoarsely. Yolanda and my roommates stepped into the room, continuing their conversation for a few seconds, and then noticed Kate and I. Their attention caught, they stopped talking, eyeing us with interest. I kept thrusting, no more willing to pause than Yolanda had been when Kate and I had walked in on her and Sam a couple hours before. Kate blushed furiously but kept moving beneath me, pushing her pelvis up toward me every time I thrust. Al headed toward the bathroom, walking by us, and murmured admiringly as he passed Kate's outstretched right leg, no doubt noticing that the tousled sheet had exposed her hip and butt cheek as well. Dean and Sam started chatting with Yolanda again. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying over the creaking of the bedsprings but it seemed like they were discussing what Kate and I had seen earlier in the day. I heard Yolanda giggle and say something like "It's a little unfair, though. Sam and I showed them the full monte, while they're hidden underneath their blanky." As was often the case when Kate neared climax, her vocalizations became increasingly fierce and foul-mouthed. "Oh Jesus Christ!" she howled, sounding like she might actually be seeking redress from some notable biblical personage. The next few words came out as distinct, sharp exhalations, Kate's entire chest convulsing with each utterance. "OH." "JESUS." "H." "FUCKING." "DIDDLY-ASS." "CHRIST!" A minute or so later Kate and I cried out together and collapsed side by side. I could feel her upper thighs and abdominal muscles trembling—tiny involuntary convulsions that became gradually less frequent as she relaxed. Kate's face and neck were deeply flushed and her breath came in closely spaced gasps, each of which was accompanied by an almost imperceptible whine. The upper sheet was twisted and wrapped around us, wet in places, and there was a veritable pond of sweat, semen and vaginal secretions forming around our pelvises. After giving us a few moments to catch our breath Yolanda walked over and introduced herself to Kate. Obviously not discomfited in the least by our post-coital state, the busty co-ed extended a hand, her expression welcoming and open. Kate sat up, using one hand to keep the sheet up over her chest and taking Yolanda's in the other. "It's great to actually meet you," Kate said, sounding embarrassed but sincere. "I've heard quite a bit about you." "Same here," said Yolanda. "Everyone thinks you're a lot nicer than Ted's other lady friends." Kate gave me the beginnings of glare and Yolanda laughed. "Not that there's been any other lady friends recently, really." Yolanda pulled up a chair and the three of us chatted for a while. Later on the lot of us broke out the chips and played a few rounds of poker, with Kate and Yolanda winning the bulk of the hands. Brick House Pt. 03 Ch. 06-07 All content copyright 2012 Ted Szabo This is part 5 of a longer work, "Brick House," Chapter 6 By the time the local leaves had completed trial separations with their deciduous significant others, presumably moving on to formal divorce proceedings, Kate and I were an official couple. With our heavy academic loads and my job at the computing center there were lengthy stretches during which we didn't see much of one another but we hung out as much as our schedules allowed. The two spoke at length about the distinctive "lifestyle" led by my roommates and myself (not really that distinctive I supposed, since I knew of fair number of other student households where college kids were as just uninhibited as Dean, Al, and I), and Kate made it clear she had to go with the flow as much as possible, pretty much coming around to point of view that we were at a point in our lives where putting aside some social conventions for the sake of convenience made a certain amount of sense. "Really, why should we deny ourselves the ability to deal with basic physical needs?" Kate told me at one point. "Look at Alicia. How much happier would that girl be if she allowed herself some occasional time between the sheets with an attentive guy? And if she were in a better mood, that dorm room would just be one hell of a lot more pleasant place to be." "Remember, it cuts both ways though," I responded. "If you and Alicia did, in theory, have an arrangement more like we have over at my place, you'd have to put up with the sounds, and to some degree the sights, of her in flagrante delicto, and you'd have to deal with seeing whatever guest she had over dressing and undressing in plain sight." "Well," Kate said thoughtfully, "I truthfully think it would be better than the situation we're in now, where Alicia acts nasty and uptight all the time and you can't even give me a hug when you visit. Just so her boy toy kept his hands, and his other things, to himself, I think I could deal with it. I could just put on some headphones when I needed some acoustic respite, the same way you do when the other guys are humping. Being over at your apartment on a regular basis has kind of desensitized me to that sort of thing, I think." "I'm glad you've decided to come on over the dark side, hon," I answered with a grin. "I like being with you physically—a lot. I'm really glad it's something we'll be able to do on a regular basis." "Well, me too. I guess you're a pretty good lay," Kate said, returning my smile. "At least average, anyway. Satisfactory. C minus." I guffawed, trying to compose a worthy comeback but failing completely. "Seriously Ted," said Kate, continuing. "It's our senior year. We have a lot to look forward to after graduation but our lives will be more—circumscribed, I guess you could say—defined by greater and greater degrees of obligation and accountability." "See, that's exactly how the guys and I look at it. If we're going to act crazy, go a little nuts, this is when we need to do it. We wait—we hold back, and the season will pass before we know it." "Exactly. When I look back on this time someday I want to shake my head a little, thinking about what a wild child I was and what fun I had. If I mostly just remember studying and tests... it's going to suck." I pretended my attention had wandered, and I had heard only the last part Kate's statement. "Huh, what was that you said? Sure, I can do that. Let's get that bra off you pronto!" "You dog!" said Kate, chuckling. "And here I thought we were having a heart-to-heart, you filthy, horny pervert you!" Hey, takes one to know one, I thought—though I wisely kept the quip to myself. Chapter 7 "Hey, I need to pee." Kate nudged me with her elbow, waking me. It was two or three AM, and we were over at my place. On that night she was on the inner side of the bed, next to the wall, so it was necessary for me to move aside so Kate could edge over, roll out, and head to the bathroom. I scooted over and Kate scrambled past me, her bare barely making a sound as they settled onto the yellowed tile floor. I noted that whoever had used the bathroom last had left the light on. The door was closed but I could see a dim fluorescence leaking from beneath it. "Don't forget to turn the light off when you're done," I told Kate, and she mumbled assent. We had made love a few hours earlier and Kate was nude, though with the apartment almost completely dark she didn't seem too self-conscious about it. She was reaching for the doorknob when the door abruptly swung open, opened from the other side. Sam, half asleep and naked as well, stepped through the doorway. Kate let out a tiny, muffled cry of surprise and instinctively covered her breasts, cupping them with her palms. "Oh, hey," said Sam, waking up a bit. "If I'd known someone was out here I'd have tried to move it along—hope you weren't waiting too long." Kate shifted nervously from foot to foot, thoroughly embarrassed. I could tell she was considering running back to bed and covering herself but knew this would just make the situation more awkward yet. "No, that's all right, I just got up," Kate said, voice shaking. Because Sam had been stepping out of the bathroom just as Kate was about to enter the two were close, just a couple feet apart. Sam looked Kate up and down without a hint of reticence, and though I felt a twinge of jealousy I couldn't really blame him. I had certainly checked out Yolanda plenty of times and though I had never had the chance to view her in such close proximity I had certainly seen everything. I noticed Kate's eyes were wandering too, though she was trying to avoid being too obvious about it. While Sam wasn't as well-muscled or fit as I was I couldn't deny he was, well, physically impressive in some respects. I heard a little exhalation of surprise from Kate, and was pretty sure her attention had settled below waist level. To make things worse, or perhaps better, depending on your perspective, Sam looked to be semi-erect. "Ah, well, it's all yours," said Sam as he moved past Kate toward his bed. I was pretty sure their bare hips brushed at one point, something I considered bringing up after Kate returned to bed. Finally I decided against it, not wanting to sound petty. Yolanda was also staying over, something we were reminded of rather... loudly a few minutes later. "Wow, they're really going at it, said Kate," cuddled up next to me again. Yolanda let out a series of throaty yells and we both chuckled a bit. It seemed so over the top. At one point Sam cut loose with a warbling cry that almost sounded like an old-school Weismuller Tarzan yodel, and Kate started giggling so hard she ended up muffling herself with her hands for fear of causing offense. "Yeah, I guess something he saw got Sam really excited," I said. I tried to give the comment an air of jest, but a bit of jealousy snuck in and my voice took on a tone that was more gruff than intended. "Hey now," Kate responded, snuggling closer, "you can't encourage me to go around with my clothes off and then object when someone reacts. How many times have you encouraged me to wear my smallest, shortest shorts when we're walking around campus? I know you like showing me off, like a kid with the coolest toy on the block." "You're completely right," I answered. I did like showing her off and, jealous twinges aside, having Sam get such a close look at her had been pretty hot. I could see the outline of Kate's face in the darkness and could tell she was looking at me quizzically, still wondering at the edge in my voice a moment before. I tried to think of some way to explain myself without appearing too foolish. "Why did you cover yourself up, though?" I asked. "I thought you were going to try to be more uninhibited?" "Ah," said Kate, thinking she understood. "That's it. You know, it was just reflex, I was totally caught by surprise. One moment it's dark and the next I've got a bright light on me and this big guy standing right next to me. It makes a girl feel a bit vulnerable, you know." "Sure, I get it. I don't want you to feel like I'm pushing you into anything." "It's OK. I thought it was kind of gross at first, the way you seemed to like to have everyone checking me out, but at this point I have to say it's pretty refreshing. Other guys I've dated always got insanely possessive and were always trying to force me to cover up. I worked pretty damn hard to get this body, and the truth is I like turning heads." All this talk about Kate's body made me acutely aware of how good it felt to have her tight against me. I could feel the curve of her breasts and hips, the flat of her belly, the sleek muscularity of her thighs. God, this was a woman that was meant to be naked. "As long as we're on the subject of your awesome bod, why don't we start going to bed in the buff?" I suggested. Kate seemed unsure, "But aren't we in the buff all the time anyway?" "It's not quite what I mean. We change into different clothes for the night and then end up undressing each other under the covers later on. I mean, we're getting in bed knowing we're going to have sex anyway, and the clothes are going to need to come off, so why not just start out that way?" Kate gave me a wry look. I could just barely see the edges of mouth turn up in the near-complete gloom. "When I go through the trouble of coming over here I do expect you to put out!" She patted me between the legs. "I guess that's what Sam and Yolanda do already, right, stripping down before they hit the sack?" "Yeah, and the others guys a lot of the time when they have company." She thought about it. "Yeah, when Dean had that Asian girl over I think they pretty much had all of their clothes off before they even got through the apartment door. I guess it's OK. I won't feel that awkward if you're undressing here with me." "Perfect," I said, "no more textiles between me and this sexy-ass physique." This drew another laugh from Kate. "Oh, you do say the sweetest things." As we were drifting back to sleep Kate asked, a little blearily, "So, when we say 'get ready for bed' we mean 'take our clothes off, all of them, in addition to the regular tooth brushing and so on?" "Yep," I answered.