Donna's Knickers

Donna moved in almost imperceptibly. She’d stay overnight, borrow a pair of clean knickers and a blouse and leave hers for me to wash. She’d bring a bag with some things in and leave it behind when she left. One evening in the pub, two nights after the bath I have described to you in fact, I decided to ask her the question.

‘Are you considering my offer?’

‘Which particular offer did you have in mind, College. You’ve made a few I might remind you,’ she said. Her hand squeezed mine. ‘And, so far, all your offers have been welcome.’ She was, of course, teasing me.

‘Well, I have noticed that some of your possessions have been left at my place and I wondered if perhaps this was a sign you might be considering making an honest woman of me.’

‘As it happens, I have been considering that particular offer. You will understand I am something of a free spirit?’ I nodded and felt my heart beating in my chest. ‘I have always tried to be self supporting – unlike my Mother who has supported half the men in Twerton at one time or another, likewise, Cassandra. You earn a lot more than I do and I have worried that the disparity in our financial circumstances might be irksome for you at some point if I found myself unable to contribute to the household for any reason.’ I made to say something but she put a finger to my lips and continued. ‘I should very much like share your abode but I don’t want anything to spoil our relationship so I have a counter-proposal which might find favour.’ I looked questioningly into her eyes. ‘How about if I come to stay for a couple of weeks as a contributing house guest and we see how it goes? a sort of trial period?’

I may have whooped but I cannot be certain. I know I threw my arms around her neck and knocked her wine over when I hugged her to me and kissed her mouth. She gently pushed me away and looked down at the spreading stain of wine on her white shirt. He shirt had become almost transparent and her dark, left nipple was clearly visible. ‘You’re going to have to wash that now!’ she said with smiling eyes.

We walked home hand in hand and when we got there the first thing I did was unbutton her shirt and slip it off her. She stroked my hair as I kissed her nipple. I looked up into her lovely, odd eyes and she smiled with me.

‘The laundry can wait, College,’ she said as her hand slipped up under my skirt. A few moments later (and here I shall refrain from explaining precisely what she was doing) she said, ‘Here, these are my knickers! I don’t remember saying you could borrow them.’ She slipped them off me. ‘That’s better, let the dog see the rabbit!’

Later still, she said, ‘If I am going to stay here, we will have to have an understanding.’ I looked up at her as I lay, sated, in her lap, her hand gently resting on my naked breast. ‘You get to wear my knickers only if I get to wear yours.’

That sounded like a deal to me. I rolled over and let my tongue give her her answer.