Thanks again to Alianath Iriad and Lastman416 for their constructive criticism, editing prowess, and continued support. Any remaining errors are mine.
***
I was excessively, ridiculously happy. Mom smiled every time she saw me, because I was always smiling myself. How could I not? I had another date with Patience.
She worked as a waitress, at a family restaurant (part of a chain). Her shifts were Tuesday to Saturday, from 4 to 11 p.m.. Yes, I saw the parallels with Ronnie. No, I did not mention them to Patience.
For one thing, her job was real. I couldn't click on a screen and just skip to the next event in our lives. On the plus side, she didn't have to work until the early hours of the morning. On the down side, they didn't sell much alcohol, and the prices were very affordable, so she didn't make as much in tips as she might have elsewhere.
- "I don't mind, really." she said. "Screaming kids, picky people ... but I don't get my ass pinched as much. It could be worse."
- "Wait - you get pinched?"
- "Only once in a while. My last job was worse. But I still get hit on. It's getting so that we can almost predict which customers will be obnoxious. It's usually not a young guy alone. But a group of young guys, strapping on a feedbag before going out to party? Watch out."
"When you're a waitress, you're a captive audience - like a hostage. The customer can complain, or try out their dumb pick-up lines, and all we can do is grin and bear it."
- "That sounds awful."
- "I get through it by imagining my last day on the job. I'm going to dump a bowl of French Onion Soup on the most deserving creep of the day. Then I'll quit, and just walk out."
I didn't quite know what to say to that. Patience saw my confusion/concern, and kissed my cheek.
"It's alright, Cyrano. This just pays the bills until we find out if the game will make any money. I won't do it forever. Worst case scenario - I'll go back to school, and you can support me."
She was just kidding, but I always loved to hear Patience talk about the future - our future together.
We went out at least twice a week, before her shift, for lunch, or for some sort of outing. Museums, the art gallery, the antique store, the classic records store, or the last remaining used bookstore in the city.
There were so many things that she might have liked to do, that I simply couldn't: bowling, hiking, going to a bar or nightclub ... so I made it a rule never to turn down any of the ideas she came up with.
Sometimes we went out on a Sunday or Monday night: to a movie, to hear a band in a small venue, or whatever new ingenuity Patience dreamed up in her fertile mind.
But one of her days off was always devoted to watching a movie with me. 'Movie Night' she called it, and she never failed to look me at me with a smile.
That might have been because 'Movie Night' was always at my house, and
always
ended up with us sitting on the couch in my basement, arms wrapped around each other, lips and tongues busy ...
Patience was devoted to my education. We repeated my first experience of passionate kissing (while I missed much of
'Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid'
). But after that, she began to add new dimensions to 'Movie Night'.
- "You're going to love this one." she promised.
- "
The Hustler
?"
- "Trust me."
- "I do."
This movie was a little different. No, I don't mean because it was in black and white.
Patience waited about fifteen minutes before cuddling closer. Then we started kissing.
On this occasion, though, she seemed a little more ... eager. We progressed to tongues almost immediately, and Patience squirmed and snuggled even closer.
When we finally paused, to breathe, she reached out and took my hand. Then, with her eyes on mine the whole time, she raised my hand, and placed it on her breast.
She was wearing a flannel shirt (the weather was getting cooler). I realized, almost instantly, that she wasn't wearing a bra.
Patience was tiny. But she had curves, and as I'd seen when she wore a dress to the racetrack, some of those were up top.
I had my hand on her breast.
For a few moments, I tried to play it cool -as if this was an everyday occurrence. But that was downright stupid.
You ain't foolin' anyone, Cyrano,
I told myself.
I tried to concentrate on kissing Patience, but she knew that I couldn't do two things at once very successfully. She drew back, and looked me in the eye.
- "
Would you like to see them?"
she whispered.
My mouth was suddenly completely dry. I managed to nod.
Patience slowly reached for the top button of her shirt. She undid it, ever so slowly - and then stopped.
I had to look up, into her eyes, to see that was she smiling. Mercifully, she only teased me a little, undoing one button at a time, to the rhythm of some incredibly slow song that only she could hear. I was mesmerized, unable to do anything other than watch.
She undid five buttons - down to just below her navel. She had a piercing there - a little gem. I looked up, into her eyes.
- "
I want you to look."
she said. "
And to touch."
I looked. Her breasts were much larger than I would have expected. Fuller. She was petite, and her breasts didn't stick out very far. But they were sizeable. Her nipples were higher than I would've guessed, perhaps three quarters of the way up the surface of her wonderful ... breasts.
- "
They're ... beautiful
." I got out.
Somehow, I found the courage to reach out a hand, and slide it inside her flannel shirt. I touched her bare skin, and my hand trembled. But I was able to caress the side of her beautiful boob, and to lift it slightly, as if to weigh it.
We kissed again, and I discovered the joys of attempted multi-tasking. We traded tongues, and kissed ever more passionately, while I explored the contours and substance of her delightful breast.
I found the courage to caress her nipple, and noted the change in Patience's breathing. Her kissing intensified, too - I was doing something right.
- "
You can ... kiss them, too."
she whispered.
I accepted the invitation.
We kissed, and I fondled her breasts as I licked and sucked on her nipples.
'The Hustler'
remains one of my favourite movies, to this day.
***
On our next movie night, we only managed to watch ten or fifteen minutes before we came together like magnets. Our kissing very quickly became more passionate.
I didn't wait for Patience to extend an invitation; I put my hand over her breast. Her breath caught, for an instant.
- "Mmmm ..." she purred.
A few moments later, we had to pause for breath. She looked me in the eye, and grinned. I don't know what got into me; I became very bold. As she looked at me, I reached for the top button of her shirt.
Patience didn't protest as I undid it. If anything, her grin became a little wider. I undid another button, and then another. Her large eyes never left mine.
I undid all of her buttons, and slid my hand inside her shirt, against the warm skin of her stomach. Then I slid it up, over her ribs, to cup her breast.
She leaned forward, to kiss me again.
I caressed her breasts for quite some time, and dipped my head to take her nipple in my mouth. Patience stroked my hair as I licked and sucked.
But there was something different, this evening. No, it wasn't the movie.
Maybe it was because I'd touched her breast so soon, or maybe we were both just a little more keyed up. I could hear the difference in her breathing. Patience was more aroused - and so was I.
She twisted around, on the couch, and put her legs across my lap. She wasn't quite sitting on me, but she'd completely changed the angles of our kissing, and of my exploration of her chest.
I could also feel her ass pressed up against the side of my thigh, and her thighs across my legs. We resumed kissing, and I fondled her breasts again, but I was all too aware of the new dynamic she'd introduced.
She'd effectively drawn to my attention to the fact that she had a lower body, too. She wanted me to touch her legs.
I did. Patience was petite. My hand almost covered the whole top of her thigh, with my fingertips nearly touching the couch beside her leg.
She purred again, and sucked on my tongue. Thus encouraged, I began to stroke her leg, from her knee to her hip.
Patience surprised me by undoing the top button on
my
shirt.
- "
It's only fair
." she whispered. She undid four more buttons, and then slid her little hand inside my shirt.
I had read that male nipples were sensitive - but I'd never really believed it. Touching my own nipples had never done anything for me, except to make me feel stupid.
But Patience touching them? That was an entirely different matter.
She stroked my stomach, and ran her fingers over my skin. Then she astonished me by bending her head, and flicking her tongue over my nipple.
- "Ah!" It was like a jolt of electricity. Patience chuckled at my reaction.
- "Sensitive, are they?"
- "Yes. A bit."
- "Dan?"
- "Mmm?"
- "Could you get a blanket for us?" she asked.
- "Oh - are you cold?"
- "A little."
She moved her legs, so that I could get up.
No, I didn't for a moment forget that it was Patience who had created the character of Michelle. I'd never experienced it in real life, but I had picked up a few ideas from her about what could go on under a blanket.
She might actually be a little cold, but I suspected that Patience was thinking more about what it would look like if my mother happened to suddenly come downstairs.
- "Ooh - that's soft. And it looks warm. Good choice."
Patience immediately resumed her position, with her legs across mine. She artfully arranged the blanket around her shoulders, and then draped it over us both.
- "Better?"
- "Much."
She kissed me again, and re-inserted her hand under my shirt. I replied in kind. But I was still pondering what had motivated her to ask for a blanket. That didn't stop me from responding to her increasingly passionate kisses.
