I missed my date with Patricia and she was narked. So was I for that matter. It hadn’t been my fault that I was going to be so late, and I had texted her to explain and apologise. Had no effect though. She wasn’t waiting up for me. The hint was very plain that the lack of a date would be followed up by a lack of nooky for me afterwards.
But it really wasn’t my fault. My father says my driving skills are abysmal. My so called mates say he’s just flattering me. They don’t rate them that high.
In all honesty, I have to agree. Driving is boring and my mind wanders. It’s generally the screams of terrified passengers that focuses my attention back on the road. So I tend not to drive, finding public transport quite efficient and a lot cheaper than running a car.
So I take the train a lot and being on one that gets derailed can’t be blamed on me. And it’s not as though I could just scramble out of the wreckage and catch the next one. No-one was catching a train until after the clean-up, which meant I had to find alternate transport and that took some time.
The result being I missed my date with Patricia and she was narked and I was getting no nooky that night.
Not a satisfactory turn of events in my book. The problem was how to alleviate Patricia’s annoyance, which might in turn lead to a relaxation of the no nooky policy.
My solution was some nice perfume and some chocolates. With those in hand I headed to the dorm where Patricia stayed. I know that the dorm had a no men in the rooms rule, plus no visitors after lights out, which was at the ridiculous hour of ten, but I figured I could sneak in without any problems.
It was a fine night, still very warm after a scorcher of a day, so I figured Patricia might be in bed but unlikely to be asleep. I’m a rather adept climber. I knew her room, number 312, was at the corner of the floor. It would be easy for me to scale the outside of the building and Patricia was sure to have the window open, trying to catch the breeze.
So it proved. I went up the side of that building like a possum up a tree, not even having to stop and rest. I went in through the window real fast. There was sufficient moonlight for me to see Patricia was lying on her bed nude. And a very attractive sight she was. Mind, from just above her breasts upwards was in complete shadow, but what wasn’t in shadow was magnificently displayed.
I moved quietly over to the bed and sat down next to her. One hand covered her mouth and the other covered one of her breasts. Why not? I had to put it somewhere. I leaned over and started talking quickly.
“It’s OK, Pat, it’s just me. I came in through the window. Don’t panic. Sorry if I gave you a fright but it’s only me. I really wanted to see you tonight. Sorry about the delay but the accident wasn’t my fault.”
Patricia had given a compulsive heave when I first touched her, understandably shocked to be woken up by a man in her room, even if it was me. She settled down though as I urgently explained. She started to mumble and shake her head, so I quickly moved my hand.
“Sorry about that, Pat,” I apologised. “I didn’t want you screaming before you realised it was only me.”
“How nice,” said a really chilly soprano, which raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “Too bad I’m not Patricia. She has room 312.”
“This is room 312,” I protested, dismayed. “Damn it, I’d counted the floors carefully.”
“This is room 412. One floor too many, mate. The uni uses the American numbering system. Floors 1, 2, 3, 4, Rather than the normal system of Ground, 1, 2, 3. You came one floor too many.
And do you mind taking your hand of my breast?”
“Oh, geez, I’m sorry,” ignoring the hint re. my hand. “I’ll just slip down a floor. Will it be safe to use the stairs?”
“It’ll be safe enough, as long as you take care. Safer than you’ll be, if you don’t move your hand. But Pat won’t be there.”
“Why not? Where’s she gone? And I like holding your breast. It’s comfortable.”
“She went home for the weekend when her deadbeat boyfriend stood her up. I assume that you’re the said deadbeat. And you’re not holding my breast, you’re paying with it. Shift your hand.”
I shifted my hand while I considered the situation.
“I’m not exactly a deadbeat,” I pointed out. “I did message her that there had been a train delay due to the derailment. I couldn’t really help it. It’s not as though I was driving the train.”
“From what I hear of your driving, lucky for everyone,” came the snide comment, “and moving your hand doesn’t mean change boobs.”
“Oh, sorry,” I apologised again, moving my hand away from her breasts. I was about to go on when she interrupted me.
“If your hand goes any closer towards my pussy, I’m going to slap you.”
“Worth it,” I mumbled. “Ah, what’s your name?”
“I’m Tracy. You, I take it, are David.”
“Um, right,” I admitted. “This is all most annoying. Sorry again,” I added, when my hand accidentally brushed against her mound. “An accident, I assure you.”
“Accident, my arse,” Tracy snapped. “Just keep your hands to yourself. Time for you to go. You might as well use the stairs as you’re leaving the building and it won’t matter if you’re caught.”
“No, truly, it was an accident. If it had been deliberate I’d have done something like this,” I said, neatly cupping her femininity.
Tracy squeaked and bounced on the bed, knocking my hand away.
“Bastard,” she snapped. “Just go away.”
“The problem is Tracy, with Pat not here I’ve got nowhere to go except home and it’s a long way. How about I stay here for a while and I can play with you.”
My hand had, somehow or other, come into contact with Tracy’s breast again, and I was idly pushing her nipple around with my thumb.
Tracy slapped at my hand. Only slapped I noticed. Not pushing it determinedly away.
“Are you kidding?” she said. “Patricia is not available so you want to have sex with me as a substitute?”
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “I’d love to have sex with you, but not as a substitute. You’re a lovely young woman and any man would love to entertain you.”
My hand was wandering back down over Tracy’s tummy, and she was hastily trying to protect herself from probing fingers. I don’t think Tracy had really considered the fact that she was naked until I’d cupped her mound. Now she was acutely conscious of it.
“Me being silly? Your girlfriend isn’t here and so you’re asking to have sex with me and you think I’m being silly?”
“Somewhat. I admit I’m assuming you’re not a virgin and know what’s what. And my entertaining you won’t have any impact on Patricia. We’re just friends you know.”