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.