Hi, I'm Kevin and I wanted to tell you about something that happened to me about a year ago that is unf**kingbelieveable. Okay, so it all started like this ... I had been a boarder at Mrs. Lancroft's Rooming House for almost a month. My room was very nice, clean and had all the basics covered, you know, bed, dressers, closet, I even had my own private bathroom. None of the other rooms I saw in town had that, you would have always had to walk down the hall in your skivvies to take a leak in the middle of the night. And, I gotta tell you, I didn't feature that. Especially with the kinda bums that tend to stay at rooming houses, like old homos who have nowhere else to go.
I wasn't like that. I mean, I was going to college, fer Chrissake's. My parents didn't have a lotta cash and there wasn't room for me on campus so a decent room in one of the many rooming houses they have around in this college town was my destiny. You could say. I mean, they're all pretty much the same but this house had something all of the others didn't have.
Mrs. Lancroft.
I don't know, but I guess I always have had a thing about older women. And I really mean older women, not just some chick who's like 24 or something. I don't know why, okay, well maybe I do but I'm not telling YOU. At least, not yet.
So anyway, back to Mrs. Lancroft. Please. It's not that she's some beauty queen but there's just something about her. She's what they call "attractive." But in a real womanly kind of way. She doesn't act all glamorous or anything, but she's got this kind of grace about her that is so f**king sexy.
And she always looks like she knows something. Maybe that's because when she looks at you, she LOOKS at you. Right in the eyes. The first time she did that to me, when I came to look at the room, I got a boner. Needless to say, I took the room. You can't ignore a perk like that. Even if it was all in my fantasies, hell, it's better then renting a room down the street and having to look at Old Man Diller's vein-y red nose at breakfast every damn day.
She seemed kinda happy when I said I'd take it. I like to flatter myself and say that's because she could see what a fine, upstanding young man I was and all that crap but, frankly, I think she was just getting worried because all the other rooming houses were filling up -- except hers. I thought that those other guys had to be NUTS not to choose Lancroft's Room & Board over all the rest. Now I think I know why they steered clear, fools that they are. But again, I am getting ahead of myself.
She never did rent that other room out and the first few weeks went pretty smoothly, she told me the rules, you know, no smoking, no drinking, no wild parties, the usual stuff. I mean, I'm a pretty quiet guy. Mostly. And I hardly even knew anybody here yet so a wild party of one was about all that she had to be worried about. We kind of fell into a rhythm. The upstairs house was divvied up into two halves -- her private area was on one side and the guest rooms (and my personal bathroom) on the other. Downstairs was the living room, kitchen & dining room. In the mornings I'd take my shower and get dressed for school and then come down for some cereal and some coffee before heading out. The first week or two she was dressed very neatly for work (she has a part-time position at the university as an on-site nurse). Then her shift changes and I noticed that she would be in the kitchen in her robe, this long, pink, soft fluffy thing under which she wore who the hell knows what.
Now, I don't know about you but it really was a toss-up over which got me harder -- that robe that looked like you had to just run your hand over it or that white nurse uniform and those white nurse shoes. Let's just say that I started everyday wide awake and raring to go.
I also liked the way she was so matter of fact about me being there. She'd be like, "Oh, good mornin', Kevin. Do you want some coffee, Sweetie?" That "Sweetie" thing really got me every time. A little twinge in my pants as soon as the "s" word started coming out. And when she'd hand me my coffee, she do that lookin' straight in my eyes thing and, I gotta tell you, I'd leave for class every day with a little wet spot on my jeans.
I have to apologize, I know it sounds like I'm sex-crazed but ... hell, I am. I'm in college, fer Chrissake's. Anyway, everything was going great with Mrs. L and me when her niece had to come along and ruin it all. Apparently, Mrs. L's sister wasn't feeling all too good and so her niece, Jennifer, came to live with us, err ... her. Now normally, I might be a bit overjoyed at this because her niece was very cute in a virginal, jail-bait kinda way but mostly I just felt like it was a big intrusion.
Me and Mrs. L were doin' just fine on our own. I mean, if you didn't know better you'd have thought we were an old married couple. Give or take a couple of decades difference in age. Most nights she would cook and we'd eat dinner together and chat about our days and then we'd hang around the living room watching TV together. Sometimes she would fall asleep on the sofa and do this little pretty-lady snore, and I would watch her rather than the TV any day.
But now Jennifer was here and things got a little formal again. I'm sure to make sure I didn't get too chummy with niece and get us all in trouble. But she had no need to worry, since little Jennifer was not my type in the slightest. We all know who was my type, don't we?
Now here's when the, uh, trouble started. Mrs. L's sister got sicker and wanted her to come and stay with her for awhile. Jennifer, who had just started college was to stay at the boarding house to go to school and look after me. I mean, NOT look after me but, y' know, make sure I didn't steal the doorknobs, I guess.
I had to act cool when Mrs. L left and I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, cause that was what I thought I was supposed to do. To be polite and everything. She seemed surprised and then I got embarrassed. I mean, aren't you supposed to kiss people goodbye when they go on trips? Or is that just family? I get confused. Anyway, she looked me right in the eye and said, "Take care of things for me, Kevin" and I nodded dumbly. Of course, I would.
So she left and the first week went very slowly. Jennifer and I avoided each other as much as possible out of sheer terror, I think. "God, I hope she doesn't trip and fall on my dick or something" was my inner mantra. But I was starting to get bored without all those cozy evenings at home with me and the Mrs.
One day when Jennifer was at class, I happened to walk by and noticed her bedroom door was open. I was suddenly curious as to the dΓ©cor of that second guest bedroom. (Was it as nice as mine? Similar color scheme?) I decided to do some simple research. I was studying the room for architectural details when suddenly I heard Jennifer say, "Uh, what are you doing in here?" in an accusatory tone I was not altogether in love with.
"What?," I said.
"What are you doing in my bedroom, Kevin?"
"What? Nothing," I said as I nonchalantly sauntered past her.
"What is that in your HAND???" she said very nastily.
"What." I answered evenly almost at the door. My hands were not even in front of me, what the heck was this chick talking about?
"That PAIR OF PANTIES in your hand? MY pair of panties??" again, in that accusatory tone.
"What?" I said innocently, and tossed the panties on her bed as I left the room and got away from that crazy bee-atch.