Patti's bedroom was definitely a messy teenage girl's room, with lots of "Boy Band" pop star photos tacked onto the walls, a pink telephone and frilly bedsheets. But there were also still a few little girl remnants like stuffed animals and Barbies scattered across the floor with dirty laundry and school books. She hurriedly scooped up the loose homework papers and soiled panties and chucked them into a closet. "Sorry." she said, apologizing for the mess.
Patti was nervous. Screwing around in my car was one thing. There she could pretend to be a dirty, sexual creature, an older girl who gave blowjobs and liked getting slapped on the ass, like a fantasy character in a romance novel. But here in her own little, pink bedroom with the rose petal wallpaper she couldn't escape being just what she was - a very sweet, very shy young girl who likes rock stars and writing on the school paper, and keeps her dolls.
"Um, this is my room." she said, showing me around, "I do all my writing here. The desk used to be my Mom's but she needed a bigger one so I got this one, and those are photos of my cousins from Virginia when they came here last Christmas, and that's me in grade school when my hair was longer and…" And so she continued to ramble on for a while, feeling very uncomfortable with a man in her bedroom, and her parents out of town.
I sat on the bed. "And what's this?" I asked. "The bed?" I expected her to laugh, but no luck. She was very sullen and fidgety. "What is it?" "I asked.
She sat in a bean bag chair, legs crossed, tugging on her hair. "I want to take a shower. Is that okay?"
"Sure." I said.
She grabbed some clothes, got up and left. A few minutes later I heard the shower go on in the bathroom down the hall. I guess our little episode in the car had made her all sticky, and she wanted to feel clean at home.
I looked around her room a bit, poking through the closets, checking out the underwear drawer, when I found her diary. Cool! What was she writing about me, I wondered? I flipped to last few pages and found a breathy, poetic record of our affair. She mentioned me by name, and that worried me a little. Patti was legal, but disclosure still would do me no good. But I trusted her to be discreet, and read on.
Apparently she had been showing some interest in Alan, another cast member. He had confessed to her that he had a crush on her, and they had even shared a kiss once. I was surprised, and more than a little jealous. He was also 18, and a terrible actor. But he was nice enough kid. Patti, it seemed, wasn't sure what to do about him, because she was falling in love with me.
I had to end this somehow. The poor girl was going to turn away a perfectly nice kid because of our stupid affair.
I heard the shower stop, and quickly put her diary away. A few minutes later she came back to the bedroom, wearing a fresh T-shirt with no bra, and a skirt which showed off her lovely legs and bare feet. I was going to tell her that it was all over between us, but she looked so delicious that I couldn't bring myself to say anything.
"Hi." she said, still nervous. "Do you want a soda or something…?"
"No." I came over to her and kissed her on the forehead. She just stood there, not moving, letting me caress her arms. "Do you want me to leave?" I asked.
"No." she said, wrapping her arms around me. We stood like that for about ten minutes, just holding each other. She smelled very clean and soapy. Finally she said, "I love you, Mark."
I looked at her. "You what I'm going to say, right? That I'm too old for you and that I'm leaving for New York again soon and…"
"I know, I know." she said. "I wish I were older." She kissed me, relaxing a bit. "I told you I wanted to stay a virgin, but I want to know what it feels like to…to…" She got all embarrassed and dropped her head.
"Sweetie," I said, "We've had some pretty great sex. A little wild, if you know what I mean…"
"I know." she said, smiling.
"So if there's something else that you want, it's okay to tell me. You trust me, right?"
"Yes, I do" she said seriously, regarding me with wonder and devotion. "Well, I wanted to know what it felt like to, God this is so weird, okay you've, you know, done it to me with your finger, you know, like pretend to…"
"Fuck you?"
She blushed. It was funny how little girlish she was being. "Yes. Well, now I'd like to know what it feels like to have your penis, you know, between my legs."
"Inside you?" I asked.
"No. What I mean is, just between my legs, pushing against my vagina. I just want to feel that. I'm weird, I know…"
"No, you're not. I know exactly what you want and it's okay."
"Really?" she said. "It's got to be making you crazy."
"It does, but I'm not complaining." I said smarmily, "Much!"
She giggled, and then got serious. "Here's the thing." she said, breaking away from me and sitting on the bed. "In the car I wanted to do-all these things. That's why I said come over. But now that we're here…See, there's a boy who likes me. And I like him. But it's not the same as with me and you. We kissed once. Does that make you mad?" she said wincing.
"No. I'm glad you're finding somebody you're own age." I think she was disappointed that I wasn't mad. I was, of course, but I was determined to let her get out of this, if that's what she wanted.
She went on. "I like him and all, but he can't make me feel like you make me feel. You know?"
I understood now. I could make her feel dirty and sexy and she was able to lose herself in that and do all these perverted things she had in the back of her mind. But Alan wasn't going to take charge like that. How could she ever feel free to get all hot and bothered with a stammering little teenager like Alan Barnstable? Maybe our affair was ruining her for other boys.
I didn't know what to do. I should have left. I should have said goodbye. I should have gotten the hell away from this whole situation. But she was so clean and squeaky with her scrubbed neck and her hair still wet from the shower and her bare legs so soft and toned and meaty looking. I slipped a hand under her skirt, resting it on her thigh, and kissed her. She kissed me back, and we lay back on the bed.
At that moment the phone rang.
"Hello?" said Patti, picking up. "Oh! Alan! Hi." Patti immediately sat up and rearranged her skirt.
Alan? Christ! I finally had delicious Patti on a bed, and the little Senior fuck calls. I got up, and started for the door.
"No, wait!" said, Patti to me, cupping the mouthpiece. Then, into the phone she said, "Alan, um, I don't know if I can do this..."
She was going to dump him. Shit! That's not what I wanted either. Patti's problem was that she just couldn't get all hot and bothered around Alan. I got an idea. I motioned for her to keep chatting, that it was okay to talk to him.
"Yeah, it was a great show." she yapped into the phone. "My parents loved it. What about yours? Your Mom videotaped? Cool." She was lying on her tummy across her bed, and her little butt was looking so cute underneath that pleated skirt. "Should we watch the tape tomorrow?" she continued. "Tommy's got a good VCR, we can go over there." I knelt down behind her and started massaging her feet as she talked.
She knew right away what I was up to, and tensed up. "Um, yeah," she continued, nervously, "I guess we could all go swimming after. That sounds cool."
I opened her legs a bit. I could see right up her skirt, and got a generous view of puss. She wasn't wearing any panties. "My parents are out of town," she went on, "so your Mom has to drive us." I placed my hands on her skirt, massaging her ass.
Patti started moaning. "Hold on, Alan." she said. She reached back, took my hands and slipped them under her skirt where I could knead her bare buns. "Oooo" she moaned softly.
"Ask him what he's wearing." I whispered.
Patti nodded. "Alan, what are you wearing? Jeans?"
I kept rubbing her ass cheeks. "Tell him you're on your bed in a skirt."
