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14 Eylül 2023, 12:03
This is a prologue to the main story. There will be plenty going on in the story which crosses over into different categories. Apologies if you get into this then can't find proceeding or preceding chapters. This is the first story I have written for the site and not sure if I have struck the right chord. Any feedback is very gratefully received, particularly on the presentation of the sex and depiction of non-male characters. As a male writer, I want o do justice to every identification I may include in this story across all chapters. It is a complete work of fiction and any likenesses to real people is purely coincidental.
I waved through the huge plume of smoke I had just created and reached for the plug-in mouse to click onto the next episode of Doctor Who. It was another long and dreary Saturday night, just pushing on to midnight, being spent rewatching old TV series. The cartons from the Indian takeaway I ordered earlier were still sat on my desk, along with three crumpled and discarded cans out stout.
Neville and Beatrix, the couple who lived in the room above me, were out for the night. I had known Neville since the very first day starting at university. We lived in the same halls and moved in to subsequent houses together, with a changing roster of other people. We had been on many, many alcohol fuelled binges -- too many nights out over too many weeks and months, all ending the same way. Him bringing home a random woman he had met, and me going to an empty bedroom with fried chicken for company, gradually getting more despondent and depressed at the lack of love in my life. It may have had something to do with the fact that all the booze and crappy food in the middle of the night had expanded me to 25st.
Neville met Beatrix towards the end of our first year and had been together for almost 2 years. Over time, our nights out grew fewer and farther between. About 6 months ago, 3 months after moving into this house, the first place they had shared together, we had a rare night out. His friend from home Cliff was visiting so we decided to show him the delights of this student city.
About 2 hours in to the night, Neville disappeared, leaving myself and Cliff to have to hurry our pints and go looking for him. We tried calling him endlessly, while searching from bar to bar but to no avail. Eventually, at around 2am, I decided to give up and asked Cliff if he wanted to head back to my house. Reluctantly, he agreed, saying we should really keep looking. I was of the opinion that I was not Neville's keeper and that he was a big boy.
When we got back, Beatrix fumed at me for about half an hour. After kicking the door to my ground-floor room off the hinges, she went to bed, though I'm fairly sure she did not sleep. Neville arrived home the next morning. He had spent the night with another woman. That was the last night out we had.
Which was why I was sat home alone on a Saturday night, watching Doctor Who. Over the years, my taste for going out had waned anyway. At 25st and depressed, I did not make for great company while fun was being had. I did though have a group of friends, dotted about a few other houses on the same street, with whom I had film nights, game nights and so on.
Just as I was about to get up and pad through to the kitchen in my dressing gown to make a cup of tea, I heard a tap on my window. I got out of my leather computer and walked to the window. I pulled the curtain slightly and peered through to see Harriet, one of my friends from across the street, standing in short baby blue pyjama shorts and a low-cut orange vest. She was rubbing he arms in the cold of this mid-January night and it looked as though she had been crying.
'What's the matter?' I asked, wrapping the dressing gown tighter around myself, still a little self-conscious of any part of my body being on show.
'I just had a huge fucking row with Charley. Can I come in for a cuppa?'
'Course, I was just about to make one.'
I opened the window more and offered her my hand to help her through. As she climbed up onto the sill, she bent and exposed a little more of her chest. Quite a lot was already on show, a tanned and full cleavage. I looked away and down at my feet as I helped her. As a man who had not had sex for two years, I actually ached to look at such a well-formed breast in the flesh, having seen many in 2D on my laptop, but Harriet was one of my best friends here and I didn't want to do anything at all, no matter how small, to jeopardise a friendship that had got me through some particularly dark times. I did notice, though, her nipples poking through her top in the cold.
'Sit down, get comfy' I smiled at her and patted my computer chair. 'It's the Pyramids of Mars next. Tea?'
'Excellent!' She beamed as she wiped to remnants of tears away from her cheeks. 'Tea would be brilliant.'
As I turned to head towards the door and out towards the kitchen, I noticed my sweaty training gear on the floor. About 18 months ago I was in the shower and looked down over my body. My huge, hair-covered Escort İstanbul (http://www.escort2.org/) stomach damn near obscured my feet from my eyeline. Seeing my cock was an absolute impossibility. To be honest, even if I could see it, it wouldn't be much to look at. As the water cascaded down over my bosom and love-handles, I wept. How had I let myself get in this state? A 24-year-old shouldn't look like this. In that moment, I decided I had to do something about it. I joined the gym at uni and started running the next day. I cut out the fried night-time chicken -- though not the drinking and smoking -- and went running three times a week and weight trained three times a week.
'Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting visitors tonight' I bent down to pick up the clothes, bundling them together.
'All good, babe. My room is a complete nightmare at the moment.'
'As usual then?' I laughed, holding the ball of clothes away from me.
'Go and get the cuppas, you cheeky fucker.' She laughed and reached for the mouse. My heart stopped for a moment. While Doctor Who had been put to full screen, I wasn't sure if I had closed down the porn that I had been watching earlier in the evening. There's a strange thing that happens to a person when they have been single for too long -- they stop being secretive with their porn. Don't get me wrong, I still felt the shame of it being public but I had gotten sloppy with hiding it. I wasn't even sure if I was using private browsing mode while online. I headed to the kitchen. If I made a fuss about it, Harriet was all the more likely to go snooping.
I filled the kettle and flicked it on before walking to my cupboard. I pulled out my teapot, two cups and leant against the worktop. As I waited for the kettle to boil, I thought about Harriet. When I first met her right after moving into halls, she had been sat on the doorstep to her accommodation, just across the courtyard from my front door. She has a crate of Stella between her knees and had clearly not been to bed yet as I was heading out for my 9am lecture. I admired this dedication. As I walked past, she offered me a bottle which I gratefully accepted. Later that same evening, she knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to come and hang out with her and her housemates, telling me she knew there and then I would be a great friend as I was the only one who took the offer of a drink.
I started to put the teabags and sweeteners into the teapot as my mind wandered further. Over the last three years, she had grown more into a sister than a friend. We turned to each other in moments of crisis, which I had had a lot. I sat with her through numerous pregnancy scares -- I always knew she was quite 'available', to put it mildly, but never overtly 'slutty'. She just liked to have a good time. I once jibed her, in what I thought was a friendly way, about being a slut and we didn't speak for two weeks.
Even though I viewed her as a sister, she was very attractive. Her hair was a deep brown with huge eyes to match. Her face was slightly rounded without carrying any weight. She had full lips which curled into an impeccable smile which made her eyes light up like plasma balls, dancing and fiery with mischief. As she was dressed in my room, plenty of her tanned and flawlessly smooth skin was on show. I knew she had a pierced belly button on a stomach which had a little baby fat which gave her hips a delicious curve. I know how I am describing her now, it sounds like I rubbed myself raw thinking about her on all my lonely nights. Truth is, there had been a few flights of fantasy but not since we became close friends.
The kettle came to its climax and brought me back to Earth. I poured the water in, finished the brew and carried everything back through into my bedroom. As I entered, kicking the door behind closed behind me. Harriet had started the episode I had queued up and had settled on to my bed, laying on her stomach with one of my pillows tucked underneath her, hugging it into her. As she had lay down, her shorts had obviously ridden up and the bottom curves of her pert, rounded bottom had become exposed. She had also helped herself to my tobacco.
'So, what happened with you and Charley?' I asked as I sat on the bed next to her, crossing my legs in front of me and tucking the gown down to hide the fact I wasn't wearing underwear. I had seen no point dressing after getting in from my run this afternoon and showering.
'We were in the kitchen with Jenny' She began, rolling on to her side towards me. She took a long drag of her cigarette and I closed my eyes as her chest heaved mightily. 'Charley was telling us about this guy she brought home last night. They were, you know, getting into it.'
'Say what you mean, Harri.' I reached for the tobacco and started to roll a cigarette. I had tried to cut down since I started running but still had about 3 or 4 a day.
'They were fucking. Well, not fucking...'
'Ugh. Charley was fucking?!' I pretended to retch. This sent Harriet into hysterics. She had a laugh from the bottom of her throat.
'You İstanbul Escort Bayan (http://www.escort2.org/) really don't like her do you?'
'It's not that I don't like her' I licked the paper of my rolly and toyed it in my hand, debating whether to actually light it. 'I just think she's a despicable human being. Emotionally, spiritually...'
'Say what you mean, Hunter' She smiled again.
'She's a cunt. A bigger cunt has not walked this Earth.'
'Well, tonight I'm agreeing with you.' Harriet replied, taking the last drag of her cig and stubbing it out in the ashtray.
'Yeah, you were saying.' I decided to light mine and took the first pull, sighing a little.
'This guy she was with. She was going down on him, really going for it, she said. Anyway, the way she described him really reminded me of someone, so I asked her if it was this guy I slept with last year, and it turned out it was!'
'Well it was bound to happen eventually. The way you...'
I didn't get to finish the sentence, Harriet punched me in the arm, a sharp flash of anger in her eyes.
'Anyway' She emphasised each syllable. 'She already knew. While she was blowing him, she said some spit came out and slopped over him. She started really apologising at how dirty it was. He said he actually quite liked it and made the mistake of telling her about a girl he was with who used loads of spit and it really turned him on. She called him a dirty fucker and kicked him out.'
'Let me guess' I said, reaching for the teapot and pouring us each a cup.
'Yeah, I was the one.' She held her hands out for the cup. 'So what? Guys fucking love that shit. If I'm going down, I'll use loads of spit.'
I had to shift my position. This was the first time I had thought of Harriet as a sexual creature. True, I had thought of her as sexy and in my imagination, she had been very sexual, but it was really the first time I had heard her talk so explicitly. I could feel the start of a surge beneath my dressing gown. My body was in a state of complete confusion as, while blood was rushing to my cock, blood was also rushing to my face to blush at her words.
'So I told Charley that I was the 'spitter'' She pulled her face into a sarcastic frown as she air-quoted around that word 'and she completely went off at me. Start calling me a dirty whore and making this big act that my pussy was stinking out the house. I had to leave before I fucking punched her.'
'I'm telling you' I reached for the tobacco again at the same time she did. Our hands touched briefly. 'She's a complete cunt. I hope something really bad happens to her.'
'I know you hate her but you shouldn't wish death on people.'
'Oh, not death' I took a filter and handed the pack to her. 'Just something massively inconvenient like a rat falling in her mouth.'
'Why do you hate her so much?' Harriet laughed as she finished her rolly. She sat up cross-legged opposite me on the bed.
'Remember that party when we all lived in Chambers?' Harriet nodded. 'There was that girl, Thea, that I was really in to.'
'The one with...' Harriet started.
'Yes, the one with.' I lit my cigarette and kept the flame going for her. 'Well, we spent about two hours talking. I thought it was going somewhere. I went to the toilet, when I came back she was kissing some guy. Charley saw me looking, well, quite upset really and like the good friend she is came over and said it was a shame Thea wasn't in to big fat wankers like me. I didn't really feel anger towards Thea, but towards Charley, I really did.'
'I mean, you were big then but that's just harsh' Harriet had a sympathetic smile for me as she reached over and stroked my arm. 'You didn't seem to let it get you down though. Not always, anyway. I know there was that time you --'
'Yeah' I cut her off. I felt rude but I knew what she was going to say and I didn't want to think about it.
'How many times did you go streaking hammered?' She asked, returning to the main point.
'Oh, gods, too many' I blushed again remembering, thinking back to times of my feet slapping against rough tarmac, too drunk to notice the pain as my big white belly flapped around in early hours air. 'Never again.'
'All that working out you've been doing, you must be dying to show off your progress' She exaggerated a wink at me and patted my chest with the back of her hand. It was true, compared to my first year-and-a-half at university, I was an Adonis. Compared to. I had lost a considerable amount of weight and gained quite a bit of muscle. I was never going to be asked to cover for Josh Holloway in an underwear advert, but I had some tone. Not a six-pack, but a little definition. I did like my arms though. Especially after deciding to start getting tattoos. Quirky little references to some of my favourite films and TV shows. The latest one was the 'H' from the House M.D. logo. I was torn between being pleased with how I looked and remaining in the trench of self-disgust.
'Those days are way behind me. I'm 24. An old man amongst Anadolu Yakası Escort (http://www.escort2.org/) all you youngsters a whole four years younger than me!'
'That's a shame. I know I'd like to --' Harriet stopped herself. It was her turn to blush. We both sat there for a brief spell with that hanging in the air. What she said did make me throb again though.
'Drink your tea' I broke the tension 'This episode is getting to the good bit with the cushion.'
Eventually, we both settled back into the bed, resting against the headboard and moving my laptop from the desk. We drank more tea and smoked more cigarettes. Harriet rested her head on my shoulder.
'It's so cold in here, do you have a hoody or anything?' She asked, not looking away from the screen.
'Scooch up, I'll have a look' I jumped up from the bed and pulled my gown around me again, covering up. Thankfully, the swelling in my crotch had settled down since the sex talk finished.
I looked around my room, through my wardrobe and found nothing. I had fallen behind with my laundry over the past few weeks while I had been concentrating on assignments. I did have a couple of hoodies but they had been worn after workouts and were a little ripe.
'Really sorry, I don't have anything. The heating is knackered and I think Lee has the heater.' Lee lived in one of the other rooms in the house. I'm not going to waste any oxygen talking about her.
'Well then' Harriet sat up onto her knees and moved to the edge of the bed towards me 'Let me have you dressing gown.'
'No way' I shook my head firmly.
'Come on, Hunter. Be gallant. For me' She fluttered her eyelashes at me and half pressed her arms into the sides of her breasts.
'I really would be gallant, you know I would but --' I never got to finish the sentence. Harriet lunged at me laughing and grabbed the edges of my gown. I tried to step away, grabbing the edges of the gown as well to try and keep it closed. It did not work.
'Holy shit' Harriet whispered to herself as I stood there in front of her, the flaps of the gown open but the cord still tied. I quickly pulled it closed and turned away, blushing deeply.
'I'm really sorry, Harri' I started yammering. 'I tried telling you I was naked under here. I'm sorry. Sorry.'
Harriet rose from the bed and walked across to me, placing her hands on my shoulders and squeezing them gently.
'Do not apologise at all. You look fucking amazing' Her hands squeezed my shoulders again, a little more firmly this time, as if she was trying to gauge the muscle beneath.
'I really don't.' I said, turning round to face her, my hands still grasping the edges of my gown tight.
'Honestly now, I'm going to have to slap you if you carry on like that' She gave me her widest and most caring smile but there was a glimmer of something else lurking just beneath the surface. 'All that gymming and running you've been doing has really paid off. And what you've got down there -- Jesus shit.'
'What I've got where?' I asked almost naively.
'Here' Harriet rolled her eyes through her smile and reached down under my gown, striking with the speed of a viper attacking its prey. Her hand grasped the shaft of my dick gently as she looked into my eyes. 'Pretty fucking impressive, and I should know, apparently.'
It was true, looking back on it. As the weight dropped off and my frame changed through muscle building, I had noticed a certain late growth spurt. When I was larger, as I said before, it wasn't much to regard at all. 6" hard and medium girth. When soft, it was like a baby mouse in a shrub. When it was cold, complete hibernation. Now, though, maybe it was because the fat on my thighs had all but gone so there was no risk of crushing, my penis flourished. I was by no means porn-star material but there were quite a few new inches and the thickness had an impressive quality, not that I had noticed.
'Holy hell, you're still soft too!' Harriet's eyes glazed over a little as she gave me a squeeze. I supressed a moan. It had been far too long since I'd felt another's hands on me.
'Harriet?' I said her name quietly. Perhaps too quietly. It was her turn to drift away from this planet as her hand slowly moved back and forth over the portion she had grasped.
'Harriet.' I repeated a little more firmly. This seem to jolt her back.
'Hmm?'
'You can let go now.'
'If you want me to, I will' She drifted back an looked up at me. There was about a foot's difference in our height. With her other hand, she reached up and stroked my cheek, her fingers tickling through my beard.
'We really shouldn't do this' I looked down at her as confusion spread through my brain and onto my expression, fighting for place with the pleasure spreading across me. What had I just said? I hadn't been with anyone for over two years and here was this damn-near perfect woman playing with me.
'Maybe not, but I'm not letting go' She squeezed me again. I could feel that she couldn't get her fingers all the way around me. She stepped closer and pressed her breasts against me. I looked down and saw her cleavage again, and that she wasn't wearing a bra. I was pretty sure she was braless when she first knocked on my window but I was trying not to look. I was close to drooling over her. My hands were now locked down by my sides.
I waved through the huge plume of smoke I had just created and reached for the plug-in mouse to click onto the next episode of Doctor Who. It was another long and dreary Saturday night, just pushing on to midnight, being spent rewatching old TV series. The cartons from the Indian takeaway I ordered earlier were still sat on my desk, along with three crumpled and discarded cans out stout.
Neville and Beatrix, the couple who lived in the room above me, were out for the night. I had known Neville since the very first day starting at university. We lived in the same halls and moved in to subsequent houses together, with a changing roster of other people. We had been on many, many alcohol fuelled binges -- too many nights out over too many weeks and months, all ending the same way. Him bringing home a random woman he had met, and me going to an empty bedroom with fried chicken for company, gradually getting more despondent and depressed at the lack of love in my life. It may have had something to do with the fact that all the booze and crappy food in the middle of the night had expanded me to 25st.
Neville met Beatrix towards the end of our first year and had been together for almost 2 years. Over time, our nights out grew fewer and farther between. About 6 months ago, 3 months after moving into this house, the first place they had shared together, we had a rare night out. His friend from home Cliff was visiting so we decided to show him the delights of this student city.
About 2 hours in to the night, Neville disappeared, leaving myself and Cliff to have to hurry our pints and go looking for him. We tried calling him endlessly, while searching from bar to bar but to no avail. Eventually, at around 2am, I decided to give up and asked Cliff if he wanted to head back to my house. Reluctantly, he agreed, saying we should really keep looking. I was of the opinion that I was not Neville's keeper and that he was a big boy.
When we got back, Beatrix fumed at me for about half an hour. After kicking the door to my ground-floor room off the hinges, she went to bed, though I'm fairly sure she did not sleep. Neville arrived home the next morning. He had spent the night with another woman. That was the last night out we had.
Which was why I was sat home alone on a Saturday night, watching Doctor Who. Over the years, my taste for going out had waned anyway. At 25st and depressed, I did not make for great company while fun was being had. I did though have a group of friends, dotted about a few other houses on the same street, with whom I had film nights, game nights and so on.
Just as I was about to get up and pad through to the kitchen in my dressing gown to make a cup of tea, I heard a tap on my window. I got out of my leather computer and walked to the window. I pulled the curtain slightly and peered through to see Harriet, one of my friends from across the street, standing in short baby blue pyjama shorts and a low-cut orange vest. She was rubbing he arms in the cold of this mid-January night and it looked as though she had been crying.
'What's the matter?' I asked, wrapping the dressing gown tighter around myself, still a little self-conscious of any part of my body being on show.
'I just had a huge fucking row with Charley. Can I come in for a cuppa?'
'Course, I was just about to make one.'
I opened the window more and offered her my hand to help her through. As she climbed up onto the sill, she bent and exposed a little more of her chest. Quite a lot was already on show, a tanned and full cleavage. I looked away and down at my feet as I helped her. As a man who had not had sex for two years, I actually ached to look at such a well-formed breast in the flesh, having seen many in 2D on my laptop, but Harriet was one of my best friends here and I didn't want to do anything at all, no matter how small, to jeopardise a friendship that had got me through some particularly dark times. I did notice, though, her nipples poking through her top in the cold.
'Sit down, get comfy' I smiled at her and patted my computer chair. 'It's the Pyramids of Mars next. Tea?'
'Excellent!' She beamed as she wiped to remnants of tears away from her cheeks. 'Tea would be brilliant.'
As I turned to head towards the door and out towards the kitchen, I noticed my sweaty training gear on the floor. About 18 months ago I was in the shower and looked down over my body. My huge, hair-covered Escort İstanbul (http://www.escort2.org/) stomach damn near obscured my feet from my eyeline. Seeing my cock was an absolute impossibility. To be honest, even if I could see it, it wouldn't be much to look at. As the water cascaded down over my bosom and love-handles, I wept. How had I let myself get in this state? A 24-year-old shouldn't look like this. In that moment, I decided I had to do something about it. I joined the gym at uni and started running the next day. I cut out the fried night-time chicken -- though not the drinking and smoking -- and went running three times a week and weight trained three times a week.
'Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting visitors tonight' I bent down to pick up the clothes, bundling them together.
'All good, babe. My room is a complete nightmare at the moment.'
'As usual then?' I laughed, holding the ball of clothes away from me.
'Go and get the cuppas, you cheeky fucker.' She laughed and reached for the mouse. My heart stopped for a moment. While Doctor Who had been put to full screen, I wasn't sure if I had closed down the porn that I had been watching earlier in the evening. There's a strange thing that happens to a person when they have been single for too long -- they stop being secretive with their porn. Don't get me wrong, I still felt the shame of it being public but I had gotten sloppy with hiding it. I wasn't even sure if I was using private browsing mode while online. I headed to the kitchen. If I made a fuss about it, Harriet was all the more likely to go snooping.
I filled the kettle and flicked it on before walking to my cupboard. I pulled out my teapot, two cups and leant against the worktop. As I waited for the kettle to boil, I thought about Harriet. When I first met her right after moving into halls, she had been sat on the doorstep to her accommodation, just across the courtyard from my front door. She has a crate of Stella between her knees and had clearly not been to bed yet as I was heading out for my 9am lecture. I admired this dedication. As I walked past, she offered me a bottle which I gratefully accepted. Later that same evening, she knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to come and hang out with her and her housemates, telling me she knew there and then I would be a great friend as I was the only one who took the offer of a drink.
I started to put the teabags and sweeteners into the teapot as my mind wandered further. Over the last three years, she had grown more into a sister than a friend. We turned to each other in moments of crisis, which I had had a lot. I sat with her through numerous pregnancy scares -- I always knew she was quite 'available', to put it mildly, but never overtly 'slutty'. She just liked to have a good time. I once jibed her, in what I thought was a friendly way, about being a slut and we didn't speak for two weeks.
Even though I viewed her as a sister, she was very attractive. Her hair was a deep brown with huge eyes to match. Her face was slightly rounded without carrying any weight. She had full lips which curled into an impeccable smile which made her eyes light up like plasma balls, dancing and fiery with mischief. As she was dressed in my room, plenty of her tanned and flawlessly smooth skin was on show. I knew she had a pierced belly button on a stomach which had a little baby fat which gave her hips a delicious curve. I know how I am describing her now, it sounds like I rubbed myself raw thinking about her on all my lonely nights. Truth is, there had been a few flights of fantasy but not since we became close friends.
The kettle came to its climax and brought me back to Earth. I poured the water in, finished the brew and carried everything back through into my bedroom. As I entered, kicking the door behind closed behind me. Harriet had started the episode I had queued up and had settled on to my bed, laying on her stomach with one of my pillows tucked underneath her, hugging it into her. As she had lay down, her shorts had obviously ridden up and the bottom curves of her pert, rounded bottom had become exposed. She had also helped herself to my tobacco.
'So, what happened with you and Charley?' I asked as I sat on the bed next to her, crossing my legs in front of me and tucking the gown down to hide the fact I wasn't wearing underwear. I had seen no point dressing after getting in from my run this afternoon and showering.
'We were in the kitchen with Jenny' She began, rolling on to her side towards me. She took a long drag of her cigarette and I closed my eyes as her chest heaved mightily. 'Charley was telling us about this guy she brought home last night. They were, you know, getting into it.'
'Say what you mean, Harri.' I reached for the tobacco and started to roll a cigarette. I had tried to cut down since I started running but still had about 3 or 4 a day.
'They were fucking. Well, not fucking...'
'Ugh. Charley was fucking?!' I pretended to retch. This sent Harriet into hysterics. She had a laugh from the bottom of her throat.
'You İstanbul Escort Bayan (http://www.escort2.org/) really don't like her do you?'
'It's not that I don't like her' I licked the paper of my rolly and toyed it in my hand, debating whether to actually light it. 'I just think she's a despicable human being. Emotionally, spiritually...'
'Say what you mean, Hunter' She smiled again.
'She's a cunt. A bigger cunt has not walked this Earth.'
'Well, tonight I'm agreeing with you.' Harriet replied, taking the last drag of her cig and stubbing it out in the ashtray.
'Yeah, you were saying.' I decided to light mine and took the first pull, sighing a little.
'This guy she was with. She was going down on him, really going for it, she said. Anyway, the way she described him really reminded me of someone, so I asked her if it was this guy I slept with last year, and it turned out it was!'
'Well it was bound to happen eventually. The way you...'
I didn't get to finish the sentence, Harriet punched me in the arm, a sharp flash of anger in her eyes.
'Anyway' She emphasised each syllable. 'She already knew. While she was blowing him, she said some spit came out and slopped over him. She started really apologising at how dirty it was. He said he actually quite liked it and made the mistake of telling her about a girl he was with who used loads of spit and it really turned him on. She called him a dirty fucker and kicked him out.'
'Let me guess' I said, reaching for the teapot and pouring us each a cup.
'Yeah, I was the one.' She held her hands out for the cup. 'So what? Guys fucking love that shit. If I'm going down, I'll use loads of spit.'
I had to shift my position. This was the first time I had thought of Harriet as a sexual creature. True, I had thought of her as sexy and in my imagination, she had been very sexual, but it was really the first time I had heard her talk so explicitly. I could feel the start of a surge beneath my dressing gown. My body was in a state of complete confusion as, while blood was rushing to my cock, blood was also rushing to my face to blush at her words.
'So I told Charley that I was the 'spitter'' She pulled her face into a sarcastic frown as she air-quoted around that word 'and she completely went off at me. Start calling me a dirty whore and making this big act that my pussy was stinking out the house. I had to leave before I fucking punched her.'
'I'm telling you' I reached for the tobacco again at the same time she did. Our hands touched briefly. 'She's a complete cunt. I hope something really bad happens to her.'
'I know you hate her but you shouldn't wish death on people.'
'Oh, not death' I took a filter and handed the pack to her. 'Just something massively inconvenient like a rat falling in her mouth.'
'Why do you hate her so much?' Harriet laughed as she finished her rolly. She sat up cross-legged opposite me on the bed.
'Remember that party when we all lived in Chambers?' Harriet nodded. 'There was that girl, Thea, that I was really in to.'
'The one with...' Harriet started.
'Yes, the one with.' I lit my cigarette and kept the flame going for her. 'Well, we spent about two hours talking. I thought it was going somewhere. I went to the toilet, when I came back she was kissing some guy. Charley saw me looking, well, quite upset really and like the good friend she is came over and said it was a shame Thea wasn't in to big fat wankers like me. I didn't really feel anger towards Thea, but towards Charley, I really did.'
'I mean, you were big then but that's just harsh' Harriet had a sympathetic smile for me as she reached over and stroked my arm. 'You didn't seem to let it get you down though. Not always, anyway. I know there was that time you --'
'Yeah' I cut her off. I felt rude but I knew what she was going to say and I didn't want to think about it.
'How many times did you go streaking hammered?' She asked, returning to the main point.
'Oh, gods, too many' I blushed again remembering, thinking back to times of my feet slapping against rough tarmac, too drunk to notice the pain as my big white belly flapped around in early hours air. 'Never again.'
'All that working out you've been doing, you must be dying to show off your progress' She exaggerated a wink at me and patted my chest with the back of her hand. It was true, compared to my first year-and-a-half at university, I was an Adonis. Compared to. I had lost a considerable amount of weight and gained quite a bit of muscle. I was never going to be asked to cover for Josh Holloway in an underwear advert, but I had some tone. Not a six-pack, but a little definition. I did like my arms though. Especially after deciding to start getting tattoos. Quirky little references to some of my favourite films and TV shows. The latest one was the 'H' from the House M.D. logo. I was torn between being pleased with how I looked and remaining in the trench of self-disgust.
'Those days are way behind me. I'm 24. An old man amongst Anadolu Yakası Escort (http://www.escort2.org/) all you youngsters a whole four years younger than me!'
'That's a shame. I know I'd like to --' Harriet stopped herself. It was her turn to blush. We both sat there for a brief spell with that hanging in the air. What she said did make me throb again though.
'Drink your tea' I broke the tension 'This episode is getting to the good bit with the cushion.'
Eventually, we both settled back into the bed, resting against the headboard and moving my laptop from the desk. We drank more tea and smoked more cigarettes. Harriet rested her head on my shoulder.
'It's so cold in here, do you have a hoody or anything?' She asked, not looking away from the screen.
'Scooch up, I'll have a look' I jumped up from the bed and pulled my gown around me again, covering up. Thankfully, the swelling in my crotch had settled down since the sex talk finished.
I looked around my room, through my wardrobe and found nothing. I had fallen behind with my laundry over the past few weeks while I had been concentrating on assignments. I did have a couple of hoodies but they had been worn after workouts and were a little ripe.
'Really sorry, I don't have anything. The heating is knackered and I think Lee has the heater.' Lee lived in one of the other rooms in the house. I'm not going to waste any oxygen talking about her.
'Well then' Harriet sat up onto her knees and moved to the edge of the bed towards me 'Let me have you dressing gown.'
'No way' I shook my head firmly.
'Come on, Hunter. Be gallant. For me' She fluttered her eyelashes at me and half pressed her arms into the sides of her breasts.
'I really would be gallant, you know I would but --' I never got to finish the sentence. Harriet lunged at me laughing and grabbed the edges of my gown. I tried to step away, grabbing the edges of the gown as well to try and keep it closed. It did not work.
'Holy shit' Harriet whispered to herself as I stood there in front of her, the flaps of the gown open but the cord still tied. I quickly pulled it closed and turned away, blushing deeply.
'I'm really sorry, Harri' I started yammering. 'I tried telling you I was naked under here. I'm sorry. Sorry.'
Harriet rose from the bed and walked across to me, placing her hands on my shoulders and squeezing them gently.
'Do not apologise at all. You look fucking amazing' Her hands squeezed my shoulders again, a little more firmly this time, as if she was trying to gauge the muscle beneath.
'I really don't.' I said, turning round to face her, my hands still grasping the edges of my gown tight.
'Honestly now, I'm going to have to slap you if you carry on like that' She gave me her widest and most caring smile but there was a glimmer of something else lurking just beneath the surface. 'All that gymming and running you've been doing has really paid off. And what you've got down there -- Jesus shit.'
'What I've got where?' I asked almost naively.
'Here' Harriet rolled her eyes through her smile and reached down under my gown, striking with the speed of a viper attacking its prey. Her hand grasped the shaft of my dick gently as she looked into my eyes. 'Pretty fucking impressive, and I should know, apparently.'
It was true, looking back on it. As the weight dropped off and my frame changed through muscle building, I had noticed a certain late growth spurt. When I was larger, as I said before, it wasn't much to regard at all. 6" hard and medium girth. When soft, it was like a baby mouse in a shrub. When it was cold, complete hibernation. Now, though, maybe it was because the fat on my thighs had all but gone so there was no risk of crushing, my penis flourished. I was by no means porn-star material but there were quite a few new inches and the thickness had an impressive quality, not that I had noticed.
'Holy hell, you're still soft too!' Harriet's eyes glazed over a little as she gave me a squeeze. I supressed a moan. It had been far too long since I'd felt another's hands on me.
'Harriet?' I said her name quietly. Perhaps too quietly. It was her turn to drift away from this planet as her hand slowly moved back and forth over the portion she had grasped.
'Harriet.' I repeated a little more firmly. This seem to jolt her back.
'Hmm?'
'You can let go now.'
'If you want me to, I will' She drifted back an looked up at me. There was about a foot's difference in our height. With her other hand, she reached up and stroked my cheek, her fingers tickling through my beard.
'We really shouldn't do this' I looked down at her as confusion spread through my brain and onto my expression, fighting for place with the pleasure spreading across me. What had I just said? I hadn't been with anyone for over two years and here was this damn-near perfect woman playing with me.
'Maybe not, but I'm not letting go' She squeezed me again. I could feel that she couldn't get her fingers all the way around me. She stepped closer and pressed her breasts against me. I looked down and saw her cleavage again, and that she wasn't wearing a bra. I was pretty sure she was braless when she first knocked on my window but I was trying not to look. I was close to drooling over her. My hands were now locked down by my sides.