Everything was changing. Agnes felt it all around her. The semester was over and so was her schooling. Bradley would soon be a lawyer, and she would be an actuary. They would move to a big city and finally get married and start their new lives together. She might even get that breast enhancement surgery that Bradley often hinted would be good for her self-image. Overall, Agnes felt that the pieces of her life had been scooped into a Yatzee cup, shaken, and were ready to be scattered on the table.
Agnes awoke with Bradley's hand on her leg, moving slowly, sensuously, past her calf, her knee, and her thigh. The apartment was hot and she sweated in her flimsy, silky nightgown. The semester had ended, her last one. She earned her Bachelors in Mathematics. At the end of the summer she would take the actuarial exam, which she expected to ace--or at least pass. Bradley finished law school and was studying for the Bar Exam. They weren't married yet and it had been weeks since he had initiated lovemaking. Bradly said nothing while his hand moved. He may have still been asleep. The last four times, Agnes had to encourage his enthusiasm. She understood that the Bar Exam put extraordinary pressure on an aspiring lawyer. He spent entire days and nights studying, reading out loud, and listening to what he had spoken into his phone. He had little time and even less enthusiasm for Agnes recently. She understood, and that's why she used her pert mouth to bring him to stiff excitement the last two times.
But today, his dick was already at attention. Morning wood. Not very romantic, but Agnes could not be picky. It took her mind off their financial situation. Soon, Bradley would be a lawyer and she would be an actuary, the best use of her mathematics degree. Then there would be no further financial worries. But today? She hadn't enough money to get Bradley's clothes from the dry cleaners or to pay for groceries.
Agnes rolled over on her back and spread her legs a little. His hand glided up to her soft, blond triangle and she moaned involuntarily. Suddenly, he stopped, and shot upright.
"I'm late! I have a review session in twenty minutes. Why didn't you wake me?" He stepped out of his shorts as he stumbled to the bathroom.
"We're out of coffee," she announced, expecting a blow up.
The splash of the shower obscured his next words. "...my dry cleaning..."
She laid out the clothes she wanted to wear, suitable for the recent hot spell, a gauzy blue blouse, a pair of short shorts, sandals, and under things. She hoped to make a lasting impression on her departing classmates, whom she might never see again. She and Bradley were planning to move to a big city to pursue their careers.
"There's the usual poker game tonight with the Math department," she called through his closed door. "It's the last one of the year, so it might last late." Agnes depended on these weekly card games to supplement their income. Her interest in probability and risk worked to her advantage at the these get-togethers and she seldom left without a substantial share of the winnings.
Agnes removed her long nightgown and sat naked on the bed waiting for Brad to exit the bathroom. A drop of perspiration ran down her chest. Her long legs crossed at the knee. They lived on the fifth floor of their apartment building where a lovely balcony could be accessed through the bedroom. She sometimes fantasized about sneaking out there completely naked, but she knew it would drive Bradley crazy and not in a good way.
Bradley finally came out of the bathroom, pulling up his trousers and with his shirt unbuttoned. He looked at her nakedness a moment, then he touched the coffee pot that percolated in their kitchenette. "Dammit! No coffee?"
Agnes stood up but now he wouldn't look at her. On days like this, she felt that no one would ever look at her. She lacked a curvy figure like her friend Ada, who was shaped like a bouncy figure eight. Agnes was long, lean, and lanky, but definitely not busty. At best, Agnes thought of her body as a figure one, or maybe eleven.
As Bradley passed her, he slapped her ass, a little too hard. "I don't know what you do around here," he said, shaking his head. "And put on some clothes. My God!"
"Can you leave me some money? I need to go shopping." And she needed a stake in the poker game.
He pointed to his law books and review material. "There's your money. I've spent the rest on new suits. I can't be dressed like a grad student in the big leagues."
Agnes checked their bank accounts on her phone. "You emptied the savings account, Brad?"
He noticed the clothes she had laid out to wear. "My God! You can't wear those shorts. You have giraffe legs. You don't need to emphasize it. Show some modesty, will you? Wear a skirt for once, Godddammit."
He scooped up his books and study material and ran from their apartment.
"Kiss?" Agnes said to the empty air. The first tear fell across her cheek.
"R U coming?"
It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Ada had been texting her since ten in the morning. Agnes had texted back, "Of course!" but she didn't have the energy to leave the apartment. Each time she tried to leave, she had cried as she remembered how cold Bradley had been. She went reluctantly to her closet and pulled out skirts to replace the short shorts. The first couple she looked at came to her knees, but they were too warm for the day. She had changed clothes four times, trying to be the sensible woman Bradley expected, but that didn't work either.
She finally found a short skirt that came almost to mid-thigh. It also was made of light gossamer material and swished freely when she turned. She would have to be careful, or her classmates might see her undies. That thought stopped her tears and brought a smile to her face. She went into her drawer and dug out a small white, high-cut thong.
"This should do," she said, and went into the bathroom to shower.
She arrived at five o'clock. The attitude at the Math Department was effervescent. The semester had concluded. The grades were in, the intern jobs were completed, all papers had been submitted, and the students and grad students uttered a collective sigh of relief. As each student entered the departmental study area, they were greeted with a hug and pats on the back. There were few women and a great many nerds. One standout co-ed was her friend, Ada, a busty, wide-hipped, cherub-faced red-head. She had majored in topology, the study of stretching, tearing, crumpling, and bending. With her tiny waist, she could be an infinity symbol stood on end. She wore yoga pants and even tighter tops. When she came to the party, the male students jostled each other to hug her and bring her into to them. They patted her back, and frequently, patted her ass, which elicited artificial squeaks from her together with a broad smile.
The party stopped when Agnes arrived. She towered over all but the tallest in the group. In the skirt, her legs were long, lean, and very exposed. The skirt swayed freely as she walked. She hugged the first few guys and then Ada came up to her.
"What's this?" Ada said, looking at Agnes's unexpected outfit.
"I didn't want to be hot," she said.
"Well, damn, girl. You are...HOT!" Then Ada ripped open Agnes's blouse to the agog eyes of their classmates, then retied the ends of the blouse. She had a white bra underneath. Whether she needed it or not was an open question. The move left Agnes blushing and laughing, but she allowed her blouse to assume the new revealing shape.
"You should allow me to use my topology skills more often," Ada said.
Drinks and cake were served at the study room. A tube-shaped blaster played songs at a low level, though no one danced. They all spent the day reminiscing about their time at the university, planning the paths their lives would probably take in the near future, and exchanging addresses and emails so they could keep in touch.
A tall, thin man with brown stubble and disheveled hair poked his head into the study room. He had a streak of paint the color of a yellow pepper on his cheek. His jean shirt was tattered and unbuttoned and his jeans were paint-speckled and torn. "Hey, is this a party for anybody?" He called out to the room, but his eyes were riveted on Agnes.
"Come on in," Ada said, pulling him into the room. "We're celebrating surviving the Math curriculum. So, sure, you can celebrate with us." She put her arms around him, and her large right breast was deformed by the pressure it put on the man's side.
Agnes noticed the new man, but didn't go up to him. She'd noticed him around the university, and assumed he was a grad student. She preferred to smile at her classmates and hug the ones that had to leave the party early.
The remaining students and the interloper went to the professor's house where they weekly played poker. There were only enough players to form two tables. The night made the room dusky, the wine made the cards difficult to hold, and the bets made the players talk, kibitz, and laugh. By midnight, Agnes had won the money she needed this week, and she was ready to leave.
"No," Ada held on to her arm. "It's our last night together as a group. Don't leave yet." Agnes looked around. "I've taken more than my share of the winnings already."
The interloper, the new man with paint on his face, pulled out the insides of his pockets. "You've cleaned me out!"
"See? It's time for me to go." She leaned to kiss Ada's cheek.
"We don't have to play for money, you know," the man said with a sly smile on his face. "We don't have to play for toothpicks, or chips, or corks or bottle caps."
Ada's face was glowing with anticipation. "I know where this is going." She sashayed toward the interloper. "You aren't suggesting a game that's a little naughty, are you?"
"No, of course not. I'm suggesting strip poker."
The room groaned, whistled, and clapped. Most of the students watched for Ada's reaction. The interloper watched Agnes.
"I'm outa here," Agnes said.
"Wait. Don't go. You were the big winner tonight. I doubt that anything will change, so really you have nothing to lose. My name is Anton, by the way." His voice was low and rumbled in his broad chest. So different from Bradley's high-pitched squawks.
"Come on, Agnes. It'll be something to remember, right?" Ada sat down at the table and began to shuffle the cards. Half the players sat at the table with her, the rest preferred to watch. Anton watched the slight smile on Agnes's lips, and led her to the table, where he sat across from her and next to Ada. The people watching fired up a few last joints and passed them around. Psychedelic music played, featuring Quicksilver Messenger Service, Jefferson Airplane, and Grateful Dead playing loudly.
Agnes seldom took her eyes off her cards, except to glance at Anton and Ada. Someone guided a doobie into the corner of her mouth, and she didn't object. She chased it with her last white wine.
Within an hour, everyone had lost at least one article of clothing, except Agnes. But her luck was about to change. Ada wore only her bra and panties and was in danger of losing again when Agnes had pity on her and let her win the next hand. It cost Agnes her blouse, but everyone had seen her bra already anyway.
Anton was down to his shorts alone. She was impressed by his build--clean abs, narrow waist, strong hands. His tan thighs were long and lean, and when he bounced his foot, his calves formed perfect mounds of muscle.
Someone turned the lights lower, but Agnes knew it hid nothing. She could see everything just as clearly now as before. Somehow, the lowered light made things more acceptable.
