A Thrilling Prophecybyduke1951©
1. Getting Up
3. After Breakfast
4. Before Dinner
5. After Dinner -- Lecture
6. After The Lecture
7. Afternoon Curriculum
8. Evening Approaches
1. Getting Up
The water was hot, almost too hot!
He'd adjusted the power on the shower so that the jets of liquid positively danced off his skin, the steam almost obliterating his sight. It stung, but it was doing its job as his head gradually cleared.
Looking back, the night out with his friends at the Summer Fair had been an absolute gas. He'd had far too much to drink, but they all had. It had just been a great night out. Of course his mum hadn't seen it that way when he'd literally staggered through the doorway of their suburban home. He cringed a little at the memory of the look that she'd given him. She didn't need to say much, it was the look that always did it. It had been a mixture of pain, disappointment, exasperation and anger, but always accompanied by an underlying love.
For the briefest second he wondered about moving out. He loved his mum. They'd been incredibly close as he'd grown up. It was natural he supposed after his father was killed in a car accident when he was nine and they'd bound closely together as a way of dealing with their grief. Of course he couldn't leave he decided instantly, even if she was so overprotective. Well, that was his opinion anyway. After all, he was at college, it was over six months since his eighteenth birthday and he was learning to drive. He was getting positively old!
He rubbed the shampoo hard into his sandy hair, and then ducked under the stream of water, letting the suds stream down his naked body. He thought that he heard his mother shouting something from the other side of the bathroom door, but the words were lost in the shower noise, so he shouted something back about being out in a minute, but had no idea whether the response made sense. It was probably just that he was late up again!
He ran his hands across his chest and down his sides to clear the soap from his well toned body, before letting the stream of water tumble down his taut stomach and over his most sensitive member. It responded to the surge of hot water by lifting instinctively, and for a moment he shut his eyes as he enjoyed the thrilling sensation.
"Wow," he murmured as he stepped back and grabbed a big white bath towel, "down boy!"
As he towelled off the water and remaining suds, he glanced down at the semi-rigid cock half-heartedly standing out from between his legs after the warm water had done its work. It was the only disappointing aspect of his new 'manhood'. There'd been a distinct lack of action involving his most prized asset since his eighteenth. In fact, excluding a drunken episode with a girl at a party a couple of months ago when he couldn't honestly remember whether they'd made out or not, he'd been pretty monastic. It was starting to prey on his mind.
Maybe today would be different though he thought brightly as he finished drying himself. It wasn't totally clear in his mind because it had been late in the evening when his so-called friends had dragged him into a 'gypsy' tent to have his fortune read. At least the old woman dressed in her strange clothes and beads had thrown them out before picking up his hand to look at his palm. It had all got a bit hazy by then, but he distinctly remembered her strange reaction.
She'd suddenly gripped his hand quite tightly as she bent forward to look more closely at his open palm. Her words had been strange too.
"My, my young man! I really don't think that I've ever seen such lines in a man before." She positively cackled as she continued, "Tomorrow will be a very special day for your love life! You must grasp opportunities when they arise." Her dark, intense eyes seemed to bore through him as she slowly released his hand. "You have many good signs about you Peter, it is good that you are close to your mother, but I really think that tomorrow will be very special for you!" With that she'd finished and she'd waved the confused young man casually out to wait for her next customer.
He shook his head and smiled at the recollection as he pulled on his white jockey shorts. It had sounded intriguing, but he was a science student and didn't really believe in any of that mystical stuff!
As he picked up his watch from the side of the washbasin, he realised that he really was late. Maybe too late to see her!?
He dashed back into his bedroom, liberally adorned with memories of his boyhood, and looked out of the window down into the smaller bungalow next door. His excitement rose briefly as he saw that the bathroom window was wide open, but sank quickly again as the lack of activity sank in.
It was a morning routine that was gradually driving him to distraction.
Ever since the young Scandinavian couple, the Olsson's, had moved into the rented house next door on the day of his birthday - what a birthday present that had been! They'd come round to introduce themselves that same day. He was a Sales Executive for a Swedish Engineering firm that had established a new office in the city, and she was involved in some form of Web design and would be working from home. He was Anders, and she was called Hanna, long blonde hair and the figure of an angel! Their English was good but accented, and when she spoke the lilting inflections sounded heavenly - to him at least. It had taken approximately five seconds for him to become besotted!
Since then they'd met on numerous occasions around the garden or in the drive and her infectious smile was ever-present. It had created some difficulties though, because as soon as she directed it at him he became unbelievably tongue-tied. It was ridiculous he thought, she probably looked on him as a simpleton by now!
Two major things had emerged over the last six months though. One was the frequency that Anders was away with his job. The lack of the big BMW in their drive meant that he must be away yet again he noted. The second thing was the shower! Her shower.
It had been a couple of months later that he'd glanced down from his bedroom window after his own morning shower to catch a sight that had left him frozen to the spot with his mouth wide open. He'd noticed before that Hanna tended to leave their bathroom window wide open to let out the steam from their shower. What he hadn't noticed before was that, from his position a floor above, he had a limited view inside, and in that limited view had appeared, briefly, a naked figure. A naked Hanna! He'd thought of her as heavenly with her clothes on, but without them she was ............ absolutely gorgeous!
Since then he'd tried hard to time his morning routine with hers, and had been rewarded with increasingly regular glimpses of bare flesh. A shapely back maybe, long, delicate legs perhaps, occasionally a flash of pert, rounded breast or, magically, a glimpse of pubic hair as she turned. Never for more than a few seconds though and it really was driving him insane as his vivid imagination ran wild!
Not today though it would appear.
"Oh God, get moving!" he admonished himself as he drew up his jeans, pulled on a clean white tee-shirt over his head and dragged it down over his broad, muscular shoulders. One last look and then he was out of the bedroom, heading downstairs, towards the comforting smell of frying bacon.
"Hi Mom, sorry I'm .................."
The bright flow of words were cut off as he entered the kitchen, and stopped dead in the doorway, not quite believing the sight in front of him.
"Good morning Peter," came the lilting reply as Hanna turned round from the worktop and directed one of her smiles at him, "It was good that your mother managed to catch me before she left. She was worried about your breakfast!"
"But, but ............"
"Didn't she tell you? She was called into work on an emergency so she popped round to ask me to finish breakfast for you. Fortunately I'd just showered so I could come now."
That explained the garbled voice in the shower then. His mother worked as a technician at the local Medical Examiner's office and was occasionally called in out of hours when something urgent cropped up.
"I errr, well..... wow..... eerrr, ....thanks"
It was just like normal, the words just wouldn't come out properly!
"There's some juice and cereal over there Peter, why don't you get started while I finish this?" the angel indicated a place set in front of a stool and she turned back to the frying pan.
Somehow, he stumbled over to the stool, took a gulp of orange and settled back to watching the vision in front of him.
Hanna was humming a little tune to herself as she cooked. It sounded delightfully foreign. Her long blonde hair was still a little damp from the shower and straggled down her back, covering the top of the white terry robe that was wrapped intimately around her, tied tightly around her narrow waist by a matching belt. He swallowed as he watched her shapely behind sway around in front of him as she juggled pans and ingredients. It was becoming mesmerising and he had to force his eyes to look elsewhere.
They alighted onto another stool on the corner of the kitchen on which sat a small pile of clothing. He knew that they weren't his mothers by the flimsy white undergarments that nestled on top. But if they weren't his mother's?
"Jesus, you haven't dressed?!" he blurted out suddenly.
She turned briefly and saw where he was looking.
"No, there wasn't time. Your mother had started cooking so I had to come straight over. I thought that I could get dressed here when I've finished this. Is that alright Peter?"
There was only one thought spinning around his head by now though 'Christ! She's naked under that robe!!'
He swallowed hard again, "Oh, errr .... of course Mrs Olsson."
She smiled again and he melted again, "It's 'Hanna' Peter. We don't need to be all formal do we?!"
For the next five minutes whilst Hanna finished cooking, Peter was tortured by the vision of what lay beneath the robe as it swirled about in front of him. The numerous glimpses that he'd had of her from his bedroom just wouldn't quite add up to a full picture though. It was so frustrating!
Then she came over and proudly placed a giant plate-full of breakfast in front of him. She smiled again as she saw him tuck eagerly in, and sat down opposite to pour herself some juice. Peter found that he had to split his attention between the food and the increasingly inviting view of her bosom in the gap between the folds of her robe.
The next ten minutes passed in a whiz! While he was eating, she asked about his college course, his mother, his sporting interests and told him a little about her background in Sweden. She chattered on brightly in her delightful accent until ...... the incident.
It wasn't much of an incident if truth be told, but it changed everything.
They both reached for the jug of water at the same time and their hands touched. Such a simple, innocent thing, but the surge of electricity that coursed through his body felt like an electric shock.
Hanna too had sucked in a breath and her eyes had widened as a spark seemed to ignite within her too.
Their initial reaction had been to draw back their hands but, without thinking, he quickly recaptured her petite hand in his own and gently stroked her fingers. When he realised what he'd done his eyes snapped up to hers, fearful of the reaction, but there was no anger there. Just confusion and, surprise maybe .......... and something deeper, something that he couldn't identify.
After a few long, long moments she slowly drew back her hand and sat back a little. This time it was her turn to struggle for words.
"Well Peter, errr ............that was ......... maybe I'd better get dressed .......... I errr....." She took a deep breath and began to stand, "I think that I'd better go back to my place to do that...."
But he'd already jumped up.
"No Mrs Olsson, I mean Hanna, I mean ......... you can use our living room like you said earlier. It's warm ......... it's private .... ..I'll draw the curtains for you." He realised that he was actually pleading with her not to go, but was encouraged that she didn't seem to have taken any steps to leave.
He had an inspiration!
"Look," he said as he bounced over to the stool on which her neat pile of clothes lay, "I'll take these in for you!"
With that he scooped them up with one arm, walked a couple of paces towards the living room door, smiled at her as reassuringly as he knew how, held out his hand and held is breathe.
For a long minute or so, nothing happened. Hanna seemed frozen to the spot, indecision clouding her features. The touch had somehow set her pulse racing. She'd admired Peter's athletic body before, particularly when she'd caught glimpses of him dressing at his bedroom window. Why did he do that? She'd felt a little guilty about it, but excited at the same time - and now this. If she stepped forward she felt that she'd be crossing some sort of personal Rubicon. What should she do?
Peter was getting desperate not to lose the moment. He needed something persuasive and eventually said the only thing that came to mind.
She looked a little shaken at that simple word, but it was enough.
"Okay......" she responded quietly, still a little doubtfully, but took a step forward anyway.
3. After Breakfast
She'd ignored his proffered hand and glided past him into the living room. She suddenly didn't trust herself to touch him. The inner excitement was starting to make itself felt in a tingling sensation between her legs.
Peter hadn't cared. It was enough that she had decided to stay. He quickly followed her into the small, but comfortable room and placed the pile of clothes on a small coffee table beside their large, fawn sofa. He gave her a tentative smile before striding to the windows and drawing the long, felt curtains. The dark brown curtains were thick, but fortunately it was bright enough to see comfortably in the room.
He let out a long breathe before moving again. Had he been breathing at all since picking up her clothes? No matter. She was standing in the middle of the room, watching him move around, totally silent.
"Err well, I guess that should do it," he finally blurted out and in the absence of any positive response from Hanna, he began to sidle reluctantly towards the sliding doors into the kitchen.
Their eyes were locked together as he crossed the room, her feelings unfathomable to him. He so much wanted to stay, to take her in his arms and lay her on the couch, and then ......?! He had to shut his eyes briefly to ward off the images that sprang into his mind, and when he looked back she had turned half away, towards the pile of clothes. It was another crisis moment. He had to say something or the moment would be lost, and after all, it was as if the gypsy's prophecy was coming true!
"Can I stay?" he asked quietly as he hesitated by the doorway.
She seemed to flinch a little at the words, stopped for a moment as she reached downwards but gave no other response. Then she completed the motion by picking up a delicate, lacy white bra from her pile of clothing. She looked down at the flimsy material for a few moments, swallowed and then turned her back to him.
In the absence of any contradiction he'd stayed put, frozen by the doorway, his whole attention now focussed exclusively on the robed figure in the centre of the room. His mouth was dry, and he wanted to swallow too, but it was impossible.
After a few more moments of apparent indecision, her free hand went slowly to her shoulder, teasing the robe over the edge and away from her neck, first on one side and then the other. With a little shrug she released the top of the robe and it floated smoothly down her back as she eased out her arms to rest crumpled around her waist.
This time Peter had to swallow! The sight of her soft, delicate pale skin, her narrow waist and the sensuous shape of her spine, disappearing tantalisingly back under the robe had set his pulse throbbing. The uncomfortable bulge that had been developing in his pants was now impossible to ignore!
Quickly, she wrapped the white bra strap around her waist, fastened it at the front and then twisted it around so that she could lean forward slightly to ease her breasts into the waiting cups. Frustratingly, this was all happening out of sight for Peter but his vivid imagination soon filled in the gaps, particularly after he'd glimpsed one round orb from the side as she twisted her arms into the bar straps and pulled them over her shoulder.
Next she glanced briefly over her shoulder, almost shyly, maybe just to check that he was still there. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before she looked back again. Again there was something in her expression that he couldn't quite fathom. Excitement, mischievousness perhaps, or something deeper?
His thoughts didn't dwell on that for long though as he watched her hands glide to the robe's belt at her waist. There was just the hint of a pause this time before she pulled them apart and slowly let gravity do its work as the robe collapsed into a heap at her feet.
The throbbing inside Peter's chest was becoming intolerable as he drank in the sight of the shapely figure revealed in front of him. Her long, slender legs seemed to go on forever as they rose up to support a delicious looking bottom and hips, the dark slit between those cheeks providing a tantalising indication of what lay hidden.
Distantly, he heard someone, give out a strangled gasp of admiration. It took a few long seconds before he realised that, it must have been him!
Hanna gave him a few more minutes to admire the view before twisting slightly to pick up a pair of white lacy briefs from the pile. She seemed to be concentrating hard as she stepped into them and bent down to pull them smoothly up her legs, before easing them over her waist and smoothing the delicate material over her round bottom. By twisting that way, she'd avoided giving him the view between her legs that he'd been hoping for when she bent down which was a little disappointing but that was quickly forgotten as she twisted fully round to face him and posed herself as a large smile spread across her face.
"What do you think?" she asked a little huskily.
"Jesus!" he replied eventually, followed a few moments by the best line that he could have ever come up with, "You're so beautiful!"
Her eyes widened a little at the compliment and, for a moment, that look was back in her eyes.
"Stocking next?" she added after a further short pause.
Without waiting for an answer she grabbed up a matching white suspender belt. It was trim and dainty and took but a few seconds to fasten around her waist. She carefully adjusted it so that the suspenders ran down the front and back of her legs before picking up a fluffy, tan ball that was her stocking. She twisted sideways to put her foot on the edge of the sofa before bundling up the material in her hand and drawing it carefully over her toes. As she teased the stocking over her ankle, she straightened it and the drew it slowly over her shapely calves, then above her knee, before letting her hands drop again to her ankle to smooth the material back up her leg, looking directly at Peter. It was as though she was willing him to feel the delicious sensation of her hands running over her delicate skin.
Next she twisted round again to capture the suspender belt dangling over her bottom before feeding it smoothly under her briefs and dragging it down to the band of stocking top around her upper thigh, effortlessly capturing some material before fastening the suspender to the stocking. She drew back her foot and was back facing him again, her fingers searching for the front suspender. Her eyes locked on his again as she slowly fed the suspender into the front of her bikini brief, her other hand slipping under the material from the bottom to catch hold and draw it though. No-one seemed to breathe until she'd drawn this one down to meet the stocking top and it was fastened into place.