Chapter 2: Monopoly

When George Foster woke up, he was alone in the bed. He had to piss, and he could hear the shower running. Probably that was what had awakened him. Oh, well. By the time he’d put the coffee on, he really had to piss. He went into the bathroom to do so. “About to flush,” he warned Sylvia.

“Wait,” she said. The shower stopped a minute later. “Okay.” He flushed. Two people needing the same water supply was one of the drawbacks of living with a girl. He washed his hands and lathered up.

A moment later, Sylvia pushed back the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub. This was one advantage, which — by itself — far outweighed all the drawbacks. He could see her sweet breasts, lean-but-curvy flanks, and lovely bush. Even on a school-day morning, he could look.

Indeed, when she saw him looking, she posed briefly. “I’ll never convince you,” he said when she went back to drying herself. “You look sexier doing that than trying to flaunt it. Ever seen Degas’s paintings? Dancers getting dressed?” Sylvia’s face looked unconvinced, but her face wasn’t what was drawing his attention right then.

He put on his glasses and pulled on his shorts and jeans from the night before. Meanwhile, he watched her dress. It was sexier than the pose, although it got less sexy as the dressing progressed. After a brief breakfast, she was ready to leave for work. He put aside his glasses. She held hers in her hand and gave him a gentle kiss. Then she was gone. He’d have liked to caress her, but he knew better than to try on a school-day morning.

He had his own shower before setting down to several hours of typing. He spent a lot of time at the University and got home well after she did. But this was a homecoming. She greeted him with a kiss. He held her butt with both hands, pulling her so her mound was pressed into his leg. “I’m in the middle of dinner,” she said when he came up for air.

“Mmm, smells good, too,” he acknowledged. “And I used to like your hot-plate spaghetti. Look, you are keeping track of the grocery expenses, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“The check ought to come Monday. But that’s ‘ought to’.” He didn’t like sponging off Sylvia, but his grandfather had appointed a trustee who was politically to the right of Genghis Khan. George got what the trustee was legally obliged to give him, but not any accommodation — like having the money waiting for him when he got back from Chile.

Sylvia’s meatloaf was delicious; the girl could really cook. While dishwashing wasn’t his favorite shared activity, it was something they shared. “Want to explore?” he asked afterward.

She changed from skirt and bare feet into jeans and sneakers. Watching her change was another bonus. He intended a quiet kiss before they went out, but his gonads got the better of him. He stroked her all over.

“I thought you meant ‘explore the city’,” she said. She was right. This wasn’t a night for that, not with a morning awaiting them. He took her hand and set out in the pattern they had settled on.

“This place smells almost as good as your cooking,” he said when they passed an Italian restaurant. “Want to eat here some night after my check comes?” He wanted to bite his tongue afterwards. She didn’t mention that; why did he always have to put it in?

“Sounds great. Smells great, I mean.”

He tickled her palm on the way to their apartment. She didn’t take her hand away but said “exhibitionist” when they were inside. Then she said “whew” and dropped onto the bed.

“It wasn’t exhibitionism,” he explained. “Nobody could see.”

“If you’d waited ‘til we were inside, you could’ve had any intimacy you wanted.”

“I’ll take that as an invitation.” He accepted the invitation with a long kiss but didn’t lie down beside her.

“People could have seen that,” she said, pointing at his cock.

“Look.” It was time to get the schedule accepted. “Tomorrow is a day of rest, right?”

“Well, I’ve got things to do. Shopping, for one.”

“A morning of rest, then. I’ll have to get to Harvard, too. But, if we can take the morning for us, I’d like to save up for it.”

“Sure.” Darling girl! He took one more kiss and a cuddle before he went back to the interminable typing-up of his field notes.

When he couldn’t face another page, he got ready for bed. “Need the light?” he asked her. The overhead light glared in your eyes when you were lying down, but it was necessary for some housework.

“No,” she said. He turned on the bedside lamp before turning off the overhead by the switch at the door. He turned that off when she was in bed, hidden by the sheet.

There, touch ruled — and taste. His tongue found a taste of toothpaste in her mouth; his hand found a lean belly and a firm mound before homing on her soft, smooth, breast. That feel was delightful on his hand but called for his lips to really appreciate it.

When they reached it, she pressed his head to show that he was welcome there, but she had a question. “I thought you wanted to save up.”

His mouth was busy right then, but he answered when she broke his mouth kiss. “Not you. Just me. You...” How could he explain this? And there was so much Sylvia to kiss. But he would hardly be showing his appreciation by ignoring her question. “You,” he went on, “don’t have a prostate. You don’t have to save up at all.”

He resumed kissing her breasts. Sylvia’s hands were on his head, and he could tell her level of excitement by how much she pulled it against her. There was other evidence as well. As his finger stroked within her vulva, she was growing wetter and wetter. Then she tensed all over. He could feel her mound rise against his hand and her belly shake under his arm. He sucked harder.

He moved both mouth and hand away from her when she suddenly relaxed. He covered her perspiring body with the sheet and hugged her. Soon she was taking the deep even breaths of sleep. He watched the headlights cross the ceiling while appreciating the naked girl in his arms.

He awoke alone and covered — except for his feet — by an afghan. It was a remarkably small blanket for one person, let alone two. He heard the shower running, but he had to piss anyway. “Flush!” he called when he was done. He ran the hot water into the bowl at the same time. He shaved hurriedly. “Want me to scrub your back?” he offered when he was done. He went behind the shower curtain before she could answer. Delightful girl! Sylvia looked as good in her skin as she had felt the previous night.