Katarina

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"Okay," I said, stripping off my shirt. I had put on loose boxers that night, thinking they would better conceal any unplanned erections.

We went back to our reading, but after a few minutes, Katarina spoke up again.

"It's boiling in here!" she complained. "It's not fair that you're the only one that gets to strut around topless..."

"Huh?" I blurted out, nearly dropping my book. "Oh, if you're uncomfortable you can...I mean, if you want to change just let me know--"

"Well, it's just that these flannel PJ's are really warm. Would you mind if I changed into a tee shirt?" she said, getting up and walking to her dresser.

"Not at all," I said, standing up and heading for the door to let her change.

"You don't have to leave," she said, grabbing my arm and guiding me back to the beanbag chair.

I sat back down and tried my best to bury my nose in my book.

"Guys are lucky they don't have to wear shirts," I heard Katarina say. I looked up just as she was pulling her flannel top off. She had her back to me but I could see the outline of her right breast as she reached into her drawer to retrieve a small yellow tee shirt.

"Yeah, I guess..." I said.

"You are," she said, pulling the tee shirt over her head. "Girls have it so much harder...," she added, sliding off her flannel bottoms. She bent over to step out of them, presenting me with an amazing view of her ass. Her white panties had ridden up her ass crack and as she turned back to face me she reached down to sort them out.

"Umm, why do you--" I croaked, pressing my book into my lap to hide my arousal.

"Why do we have it harder?" she asked indignantly as she sat back on her bed. "A million reasons. Peeing for instance," she began.

She launched into lengthy dissertation on the hardships of womanhood and the advantages of being a man. I do not remember a word of what she said. Nor did she mean a word of it, I thought to myself--she was flirting with me.

***

"Are you in for the night?" said Katarina returning from dinner one night.

"Yeah, I think so..." I said looking up from my book.

She turned around and locked the door.

"Me too. I don't have classes till noon tomorrow but I don't feel like going out tonight," she said, dropping her bookbag on her bed.

"Why aren't you reading on my bean bag chair?" she asked.

"I don't know, I guess I just got settled at my desk--"

"Come keep me company," she said, sitting on her bed and removing her shoes.

I grabbed my book and plopped down on the beanbag chair.

"So, got any plans for Thanksgiving?" she asked.

"Actually, I was hoping to stay here," I replied. "Seems stupid to drive 8 hours just to go home for a few days."

"I thought we weren't allowed to stay in the dorms," she said.

"Well, we're not supposed to. But I mentioned it to Nate and he said he'd be cool with it. The only drawback is that they shut the heat off in the rooms."

"Really? How depressing! Won't you be lonely?" she said.

"I don't mind," I replied. "It'll be a good chance for me to catch up on some reading." But as I said it, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. She was right--I would be lonely.

***

Most students left campus early for the long Thanksgiving weekend and by Wednesday afternoon, Bentley had cleared out entirely. Returning from my last class, I was greeted with an eerie silence when I entered the house.

The main lights had been turned off and the halls were lit dimly with back-up lighting that went on during fire alarms. I found myself wishing I had gone home as I dragged myself up the stairs to my room, reflecting that it would be my first Thanksgiving spent alone.

When I entered my room, I noticed something was different. Candles were burning in the windowsill and soft music played on my radio.

"Hey," said Katarina, peeking around her wardrobe from her bed.

"Katarina! What are you doing here?"

"I changed my mind about going home," she said. "I don't really feel like dealing with my family right now."

"Oh..." I said. I was so happy I felt like crying. I must have looked a little shaken to her.

"Don't worry, I won't keep you from your reading!" she teased.

"It'll be like a camp out!" she said with girlish enthusiasm. "Let's go get supplies!"

***

We ventured out to the supermarket and bought food and wine and candles. I also picked up a few items on the sly, hoping to pull them out triumphantly when the right moment presented itself: a game of Twister and supplies for s'mores.

We made it back to Bentley just as the first snow of winter began to fall.

"It's freezing in here!" exclaimed Katarina as we unpacked the groceries in the kitchen.

"Yeah, they switched to the heating system conservation mode for the holiday--something like 65 degrees to keep the pipes from freezing. There's plenty of wood though--I'll make a fire later on."

We uncorked a bottle of wine and made a meal of rice, stir-fried chicken, and vegetables. By the time we finished we were both a little buzzed.

"Go make a fire, I'll do the dishes," Katarina said, standing up and steadying herself before reaching for the plates.

"Are you drunk?" I said.

"No! You are!" she said, then erupted into laughter, collapsing in her chair.

"Forget the dishes for now," I said. "Go get some blankets and I'll start the fire. We can watch a movie or something."

When she returned, I had a fire roaring in the fireplace. A new bottle of wine sat uncorked on the hearth. I filled her glass and handed it to her.

"Let's sleep down here!" she said.

"Okay, I'll run up and get some sleeping bags. I think I have an extra one you can use..."

"Got 'em!" she said, pointing to the two sleeping bags and pile of bedding she'd deposited on the sofa.

She plopped down on the sofa with her wine and stared contentedly into the fire, her red cheeks glowing in the warm light.

"This is fun," she said.

I sat down next to her.

"So much better than hanging out with a bunch of boring relatives..." she went on.

She sat up and started untying her shoes.

"Let's get ready for bed and tell ghost stories!" she said as she pulled off her shoes. She then stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse.

It was one thing for me to see Katarina in her tee shirt and panties, as I often did in those days; it was entirely different to watch her disrobe right in front of me--a process imbued with a sexuality and intimacy and undeniable eroticism. I lurched forward on the sofa and rose to get the sleeping bags laid out.

I laid a sheet down on the padded carpet in front of the fireplace and placed our sleeping bags and pillows side by side. Katarina was sitting down on the couch again, her blouse unbuttoned halfway. She stared at me with a relaxed smile.

"We'll be nice and warm down here," I said.

"Yeah, cozy..." she said absent-mindedly.

I sat next to her on the couch and removed my shoes and she returned to unbuttoning her blouse. I tried not to look at her but could see her slide the shirt off her shoulders out of the corner of my eye.

"Will you hand me my tee shirt?" she said. "I put it on the couch where the sleeping bags were."

I found a skimpy white camisole draped over the sofa and tossed it to her. She was holding her blouse in front of her chest and did not seem concerned when she lost her grip on it as she reached to catch the shirt.

"Aren't you getting ready for bed too?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, sitting back on the couch and trying to slide out my jeans without her noticing my semi-erect penis tenting my boxers.

She pulled the camisole over her head and I could not help but stare at her beautiful breasts jiggling in the firelight.

"I'm not tired yet," she said as she stood up and began unbuttoning her jeans. "I wonder if there are any board games down here..."

I thought of the Twister game I had stashed with my bag of goodies in the kitchen pantry.

"I might be able to find something," I said as she wriggled out of her tight jeans, pulling the front of her panties down an inch or two in the process and revealing a small tuft of pubic hair.

I shot out of the room, hoping the dim light would hide the bulge in my shorts. I shivered when I reached the chilly kitchen and took several deep breaths. The cool air calmed my hormones somewhat and I felt my erection deflate a little. I grabbed the Twister game from the pantry.

"Look what I found," I said holding up the game as I returned to the living room.

"Twister! Awesome!" cried Katarina, jumping up and taking the game from my hands.

She pulled the spotted tarp out of the box and laid it down between our sleeping bags and the fireplace. As she busied herself setting up the game, I noticed she wasn't wearing her usual white panties, but instead a black string bikini that barely covered her ass. I felt my cock stirring back to life and tried to tuck it down the leg of my boxers.

"I haven't played this in ages," she said placed the spinner near the game tarp where we could reach it. "Come on, Dan! Assume the starting position!"

My swollen penis swung heavily in my boxers as I approached the mat.

"What's the starting position?" I said.

"Put one foot on yellow and the other on blue," she instructed, stepping into the same circles on her side.

I obeyed and she bent over to spin the dial.

"Right hand--red," she announced.

I stood motionless, not sure if she meant me.

"Well?" she said, staring at me.

"Oh, I--"

"Been a while for you too, huh?" she chuckled.

I bent over and placed my right hand on the closest red circle, then spun the dial for her.

"Left foot--blue," I instructed.

She took a big step toward me and placed her foot on a blue circle right near my hand, even though there was one right in front of her.

"Just trying to make things interesting," she said, noting my look of surprise. She reached down and spun the dial.

"Left foot--green," she said when the dial stopped spinning.

I placed my foot with little effort on the green circle directly adjacent to the one it was already on.

"You're no fun!" objected Katarina.

The game went on like this for a while, with me picking the easiest moves and Katarina picking the hardest. Sometimes she would contort her body into incredibly awkward--and provocative--positions, leaning over so that I could see down her shirt, spread-eagled in front of me with her crotch in my face, or bent over with her butt in the air, the flimsy fabric of her panties riding up her ass.

Our bodies seemed to maintain contact throughout--hands and feet touching, arms and legs intersecting, heads brushing together. I was acutely aware of the warmth of her body and the sweet, mild fragrance she wore. I was as hard as a rock.

Somehow, Katarina wound up on her hands and knees directly beneath me. I was crouched over her with my arm wrapped around her torso in a half-nelson position. It was my turn to spin the dial.

"Left foot--blue," I said.

The only way Katarina could achieve this was to spread her legs and slide her left leg around my knees so that I wound up kneeling between her legs. It was as if we had followed step-by-step instructions to achieve the doggy-style position.

The bulge in my boxers hovered inches from Katarina's ass, but it was impossible for me to lean back without moving my hands. To make matters worse, Katarina had to lean back to reach the dial--it was her turn to spin. Her ass came into contact with my throbbing cock, which settled in her crack as she sat back.

She seemed to pause for a moment before spinning the dial, then shifted her weight back even more. That was too much for me.

"I'm getting hot," I said, standing up abruptly and retreating to the sofa. "...from the fire," I continued awkwardly, noting her mischievous smile.

I kept reminding myself that Katarina was tipsy; otherwise, she wouldn't have been acting this way. I felt guilty about enjoying it as much as I was.

"Me too," said Katarina. She crawled over to her sleeping bag and nestled in. I sat in silence for a while until I heard the sound of her heavy breathing, then crawled into my sleeping bag next to her and went to sleep.

***

When we woke the next morning, the ground was blanketed in snow. The sky had cleared and sunlight flooded into the living room. Katarina peered out the window.

"Have you ever seen so much snow this early in the year?" she said. "What day is today?"

"It's Thanksgiving," I said. "You better get started on that turkey!"

"Me? Me? Why is it that women always get stuck in the kitchen while the guys just sit around and watch football?" she said.

"Oh--thanks for reminding me!" I said, darting over to the television.

"Very funny," she said, tossing a pillow at me.

We had both talked about taking advantage of the solitude to catch up on homework, but I don't think either of us cracked a book that entire weekend. Nor did we once leave each other's side.

Thanksgiving morning we set up camp in earnest, transferring clothes, radio, shower supplies and DVDs to the living room, making it our own. I dusted off the snow from the pile of firewood beside the house and replenished our supply.

We spent the afternoon playing cards, listening to music, and inventing games like trying to make it across the room without touching the floor, leaping from couch to chair to hearth, etc. By late afternoon, we started getting hungry.

"What's for dinner?" I asked.

"Leftovers," said Katarina. "Or we could make something else--there's plenty of food. We're out of wine, though," she added.

"I'll run out and get some more," I said. "Be back in a jiff."

"Wait!" she said, jumping up and grabbing her scarf. "I'll come with you!"

***

Our Thanksgiving dinner consisted of garden burgers and salad, with ice cream sandwiches for dessert. We compensated for the ordinary fare by lighting candles and donning the fanciest outfits we could find. I came to the table wearing a tuxedo, my hair gooped up with gel and parted formally to the side. Katarina wore a black strapless evening dress with high heels and a white boa slung around her neck.

Despite our silly intentions, we actually looked quite the pair. I felt like I was greeting my date as I handed her a glass of wine.

"You look nice," I said.

She beamed back at me with a beautiful smile, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight. I blushed and looked down at the floor, speechless.

"Happy Thanksgiving, dah-ling!" she said, holding up her wine glass.

After a few glasses of wine, we quickly lapsed back into our former ease around each other.

"What's up with your hair?" Katarina asked as we moved into the living room after dinner.

"What, you don't like it?" I said, acting offended.

"It looks like you used about 3 tubes of gel, that's all," she said.

We sat down in front of the fire where we had piled a bunch of pillows and I refilled our glasses. Katarina started talking about her family, recounting a typical Thanksgiving in her household. She listed the friends and relatives likely to attend and the dishes each would bring. Then she did an amusing impersonation of her father delivering the holiday toast.

We lapsed into silence, staring into the fire and listening to music playing softly on the radio. Eventually Katarina stirred.

"I have to pee," she said, getting up. "Would you mind coming with me? I'm afraid to walk through the halls alone."

"No problem," I said.

I led the way down the hall to the women's bath and shower room.

"Come in with me," she insisted, taking my hand and leading me in.

She entered the stall and I heard the sound of her peeing. The toilet flushed and she emerged from the stall.

"Thanks," she said, heading back to the door. She paused at the entrance to the shower room.

"I could use a shower to wash off all this make-up," she said. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all," I said, assuming she wanted me to wait outside for her while she bathed.

"I have to get my stuff," she said. "Wait here."

I sat down on a bench outside the shower room until she returned with her supplies. She removed her heels and stockings and put them on the bench and was about to enter the shower room when she turned around.

"You should take a shower too," she said, mussing my gel-caked hair with her hand. "Don't you want to wash your hair before bed?"

"I suppose so," I said, "but I don't have my towel."

"You can use mine. Come on."

I followed her into the shower area.

We entered adjacent shower stalls and I began to undress, placing my clothes on the bench near the stall entrance. I could see Katarina's feet in the next stall as she stepped out of her dress. She took a step toward the showerhead and turned on the water.

"Ooh! Cold!" she squealed.

I started the water on my side and began to bathe using a nearly spent sliver of soap I found in the soap dish.

"Are you washing your hair?" Katarina asked from the next stall.

"I didn't bring any shampoo," I answered, "but it should rinse out okay."

I lathered my hands and started washing my face.

"Let me wash it," she said. Her voice seemed much closer this time and I swung around when I realized she was in the stall with me. I still had soap on my face and my eyes were squeezed shut.

"Rinse your face, silly!" she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and turning me to face the shower.

I rinsed the soap out of my eyes and turned back around. Katarina stood looking up at me, water dripping from her magnificent naked body. Her pink nipples, perched high on her perky breasts, seemed to harden before my eyes. Gooseflesh formed on her chest and stomach and I realized she must have been cold standing away from the water flow in the drafty stall.

"Hey, you're hogging the water!" she said, edging me aside and warming herself in the flow of water. Our bodies brushed against each other as she turned from side to side and I felt my breath quickening and my penis starting to swell.

Finally, she knelt down and reached under the stall to retrieve a bottle of shampoo from her side.

"Wet your hair," she instructed. I stepped under the showerhead, turning aside to hide my arousal.

"When was the last time someone washed your hair for you?" she said, squeezing shampoo into her palm and lathering it in her hands. "I think you'll enjoy it. I love having my hair washed," she went on before I could answer. "You have to do me next!"

I closed my eyes and bowed my head down as she started lathering my hair. The sensation of her fingers massaging the fragrant soap into my hair was blissful as promised and soon I felt my tense body relaxing.

"Here, turn around," she said, placing her hands on my shoulders and turning me slightly so I was facing her. I resisted at first, not wanting her to notice my enlarged cock.

"Come on, it's awkward for me at this angle," she insisted.

I slowly turned around until I was facing her. Thankfully, I didn't have a full erection, probably due to my nervousness and the awkwardness of the situation. Nonetheless, my cock had swelled to nearly full-size and was dangling heavily at a 45-degree angle. Katarina went on massaging my scalp and once or twice I felt my cock brush against her belly, causing me to gasp. But she didn't seem to notice, or at least pretended not to.

"Okay, you can rinse now," she said at last, turning me around to face the shower.

I rinsed my hair, then turned to exit the stall.

"Hey, where are you going?" she said, "It's my turn!"

"Oh, sure..." I said as she handed me the shampoo bottle.

Katarina stepped under the shower and doused her hair, then turned around and looked up at me, smiling.