STORMY MONDAYS
- 2 years ago
- 26
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Patty emerged from the shuttle bus that ferried people to the "Art Walk for the Artists," and began scanning the street for the gallery where she'd agreed to meet Van.
She'd managed to map out a series of buses to take from home to get there. Her parents were out of town for the weekend visiting friends. Besides, she didn't want to explain to them that she was meeting a boy that wasn't Bobby. She didn't want to ask Collette for a ride either.
After their big fight, every day of the following week Patty had brought a small present to give to Collette during pottery class. They had been accompanied by cards saying how sorry she was for hurting her.
At the end of the week, she'd given her an eleven by fourteen inch package, telling her to open it when she got home. Collette had gasped and began crying when she found it was a portrait of her that Patty had painted. It showed her smiling back at the viewer, looking happy and affectionate. Her hair was slightly mussed, and there was no detail below her head other than outlines of her bare shoulders.
The affect was such that others viewing the portrait would see a happy and friendly teenage beauty. For Collette, she knew that Patty had painted her as she saw her after they made love.
They were still working on repairing the damage from Patty's outburst. Patty had not been back to Collette's house yet. And the subject of Van and Bobby was still off limits between them. But Collette knew that Patty was still planning to meet him today. And Patty knew that Collette still did not approve.
The weather had turned threatening over the weekend, so Patty was wearing a hooded raincoat over a sweatshirt, jeans, and sturdy walking boots. It wasn't a sexy presentation, and Patty was actually grateful that the prospect of rain made it possible. She was still conflicted about what her feelings were towards Van.
He still did his best to see her every day, in the morning when she arrived at school, and again at lunch. In spite of her rejection of Collette's concerns, Patty examined him more critically. Even with the added wariness on her part, Van continued to successfully ingratiate himself to her. She found his interest in platonic friendship to be genuine, largely because he acknowledged Bobby as her boyfriend, and because he didn't ask her out.
She was actually beginning to wonder whether she should be the one to initiate something more with him. She still felt that she was in love with Bobby, but she had to acknowledge a restlessness she found hard to define.
Collette had intended their love making to make it easier for her to wait for Bobby to be ready. Unfortunately for Bobby, it had instead sparked in Patty a burning curiosity about sex in general. The last few times she'd been with Bobby had been group or family outings, which meant she hadn't had a chance to revisit their sexual boundaries in a while. She felt like a shaken Coke can, waiting for someone to pop the top!
She spotted Van standing in front of the gallery, holding two steaming cups and a small sack that said Dunkin Donuts on the side. (Van had hit on the beauty that worked there as usual (Sophia, he remembered was her name), she'd rebuffed him as usual, and he'd finally sped off to meet Patty.)
"Hey beautiful," he called cheerfully.
She gratefully accepted the coffee, knowing that he would have already added one sugar and one cream as he did for her every day at lunch. Just another little way that they both liked the same things, she thought happily.
Van fought back the grimace us usual, as he sipped on the disgusting concoction the pretty freshman liked to drink. Once in desperation he'd gotten himself a hot chocolate for himself and tried to pass it off as the usual coffee she drank. But she'd finished hers before his that day and playfully tried to slurp some more from his cup. He'd managed to fend her off, but since then he'd resigned himself to drinking the swill. The things he wouldn't do for pussy, he thought with a grin.
"What are you smiling at?" Patty asked playfully.
"I was just thinking you must be expecting a monsoon. Is that you under all that stuff?"
"It's me. I took the bus here and I had to do a couple transfers, so if it's raining on the way home I want to be prepared."
"You took the bus?" he said in surprise.
"Yeah, my parents are out of town this weekend."
"Hot damn!" thought Van. Aloud, he said, "Patty, I can give you a ride home. You should have told me, I would have picked you up."
"It's okay Van, I mean it's not like we're on a date or anything."
"What, I can't give my friend a ride? You know I'd do anything for you Patty," he said, trying to sound earnest and sincere.
"Thanks Van. Let's see how the weather goes — if it looks bad I might take you up on that."
Van began praying for rain.
They began walking up and down the street, looking in the gallery's front windows for a while until they had finished their coffee and donuts. Then they started wandering from shop to shop. Patty was impressed at the breadth and depth of the exhibition. There was something for every taste, from abstract sculptures made from home appliance parts, to beautiful paintings in striking oils. As a painter herself that liked to work on human forms, she gravitated to that kind of work to study the techniques and concepts the artists had employed.
At one point they came across a display of pencil drawings. They were of everyday street scenes, both people and places around the city. They were quite good if technically crude, and for some reason she couldn't grasp, they really caught Patty's eye.
Unfortunately, for once during their wanderings, Van had shown some impatience to move on to other things before she'd spent as much time as she would have liked. But there had been other exhibits he'd wanted to spend more time with than her too, so she shrugged and followed him away.
As they moved from exhibit to exhibit and their interest varied, Van took it as an opportunity to occasionally grasp Patty's hand to get her attention or to playfully pull her away from something she'd lost herself in. As the day went on, Patty realized that she was holding on to Van's hand longer and longer each time as they walked together to the next stop. Eventually they looked at each other and grinned self consciously, and by unspoken agreement, began to hold hands for the rest of their day.
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It was raining like hell out. I’d just gotten off work and stopped by the 7-11 to pick up some sodas to take home. She was sitting on the curb, shivering and cold. Her clothes were totally soaked and she didn’t have shoes. There wasn’t a soul around this time of night, being close to midnight and stormy. As the headlights of my car hit her, she lifted her head. What a sad sight she is. I get out and run inside, get what I need and back out to my car. “Mister, will you help me, please.”
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It was a beautiful day after all, so why not go for a walk in the woods I thought to myself, I used to walk the woods often when Ziggy was alive. I did think it odd though when I saw lone walkers without a dog, I always wondered what they could be doing. Today I brought my camera along with me, my artist friend told me I had pareidolia because I was always sending her photos from my phone with faces in the tree trunks or stones on the beach that I saw. The phone camera is okay but now I am...
I will begin with explaining that there is nothing extraordinary about me. I was born into a modestly wealthy family of a reasonable social class. Having lost my parents rather early in life, I was shipped off to my grandmother’s where an army of servants and sycophants could ensure my proper education. In person, I am a tall woman with a dark look about me that has always ensued comparisons to gypsies or the fey. I am somewhat statuesque and have always maintained a wardrobe of jewel tones...
“Look up at me Morgan.” Looking into her eyes, how could it get any better, a sweet little teen, Bacon and Eggs and a blowjob. I was ready to cum. “Morgan, get your breakfast plate.” She gave me this stupid look. “Bitch, can’t you fucking hear me.” “Morgan got her plate. As she looked on I jacked my cock until my spunk shot over her eggs. You should have seen the look on her face. The cum covered the egg yokes. “This needs a little topping.” I spit on top of the eggs and gave...