Silent Weeks Sequel Pt. 01

Fuck, yeah!

Anyway, I showered, then cooked. We ate on the sofa, without watching a movie. We were silent, again, and I relished in the fact that it was not awkward.

After washing dishes, there seemed to be no apparent plans, and I had questions.

I was behind her as she started out of the kitchen. I swooped to her, wrapped my arms securely around her waist, and lifted her straight up.

Most girls would probably have let out a short scream of pleasant surprise. She offered a milder, pleased sound, which I appreciated.

I clumsily kissed her cheek once as she laughed, and then I carried her around to the sofa, where I fell backward along the length of it, with her laying on her back on top of me.

"So, you're saying you were checking me out even before you caught me checking you out?"

She let out another small laugh.

"You were a person of interest."

A sly response.

Well done.

"Did you already have the skirts, or did you buy them special?"

She paused in thought.

"I'd wanted to wear stuff like that, but I never had a reason, so I never bought any of it. After I snuck a peek at your gallery, and got a general idea of your preferences, I was inspired to get some of those things that I did like. I was... hopeful."

I gave her a sweet squeeze. It was an encouraging thing to hear.

"What made you decided to pull the trigger with me? I mean, staring at your legs seems like a small thing, relatively speaking."

"It was an opportunity. I liked how you reacted. You were... courteous, but unapologetic. I had a gut feeling about what kind of person you were, and I decided it was worth testing."

"I'm glad you did."

Any more of that, and I might just start tearing up. I kissed her head. We were silent for a while.

"Does your bag mean you're staying the night, again?"

"Unfortunately, no. Wish I could. I like it here. I mean, I'm not really a fan of antiques, but this place is just weird enough that it kind of makes me feel like I'm in our own private pocket universe."

Pocket universe. This girl trying to make me horny again? I'm already gonna be doing more laundry than usual.

"Gonna make me run out of underwear, girl."

That got a good laugh out of her.

"Guess I better reign in the sexy talk, then." Pause for comedic timing. "I gotta take a shit."

That got a good laugh out of me.

Not reigning it in as much as you might think. [insert internal uncomfortable laughter]

I let go of her, she got off of me, and let her fingers brush along my face as she made her way toward the bathroom.

Now was my chance. When I heard the door close, I got up to get the T-shirt, opening and closing the door as quietly as I could. In the living room, I unzipped her bag and made a quick assessment of the contents.

Yesterday's clothes and a lap top. Curiously, not the clothes of mine that she borrowed. Did she put them in the laundry basket without me noticing? No matter.

I hid the T-shirt under her clothes, and then zipped the bag, hoping that she wouldn't check it before returning home.

I wondered if she brought the bag specifically to give me a chance to do something like this. Hmm.

Okay, now sit down and do stuff on your phone.

Look natural.

Hey. She put herself in my contacts. Sweet. Idea. Heh heh.

Text: Dude, I can't believe how awesome this chick is. She's not afraid to tell me when she has to take a shit in my apartment. SCORE!

And send. Her phone sounded a notification, I read it so she would not notice it, hopefully, at least until she was back at home, and then I put her phone back where it was.

I was sitting on the sofa when she eventually reappeared. Her hoodie was zipped back up, which probably meant she was about to leave. It was well into the evening, and I know I had classes tomorrow. Fair chance she did, too.

I grabbed her phone from the coffee table as I stood, and then handed it to her. She put it in her hoodie pocket and wrapped her arms around my neck for a kiss.

"See you Wednesday," she said.

Not tomorrow, then?

Pity.

She picked up her bag and left.

I stood at the door and watched her drive away.

~

I endured Tuesday.

On Wednesday, she walked in, after I was already seated. She started down the outer aisle, which meant she would be sitting in her normal seat, but with all the students between us, I was unable to see what she was wearing.

After passing the last seated student, I was rewarded with a skirt and a pair of black over-the-knee socks with two white stripes at the top.

Nice.

And she's wearing my shirt that she borrowed! (not the one I hid, to be clear)

Double nice.

She approached her seat, and then walked past it- wait, what?

I heard her sit in the desk behind me.

Now, that was either a change of mind, or a deliberate tease.

So, did this mean she would be dropping me another secret message? Seemed like the panties game would be played out by now, but I was cool either way.

"I'm not wearing panties," I suddenly heard her whisper next to my ear.

A shiver went through me, and I gained a little mass. You know... downstairs.

Oh, what did she have in store for me today?

During the course of the class, her fingers made brief strokes across my back, neck, and the hair at the base of my skull. At one point, she even licked the back of my neck.

I figured she was taking opportunities when she was confident that she would not be seen by the professor or other students. It would explain why they were so quick and sporadic.

At another point, I felt her fingers hook my bicep and pull. I moved my arm backward, not quite sure what she was doing, but then her hand sliding down my arm told me she wanted my hand. I held it back as far as I could, below desk level, without looking like that was exactly what I was doing.

She bent my wrist, putting my palm up, and held it in place for a second, in a cupped position. I was evidently meant to wait for something to be put into my hand, so I did.

I speculated what it might be. Some kind of food treat? A note? Apparently speaking to each other during class was no longer against the rules. A pair of rolled up panties with a day on them?

No, no. Enough with the days panties. You're obsessed with panties.

My thoughts were interrupted by something touching me. She swiped her finger down the length of my palm. And then nothing. Was that it?

Wait.

Did it feel... wet?

I focused on the sensation on my palm. Where she swiped felt slightly cooler than the rest of it. Was this supposed to be some variation of a wet willy?

Or....

I closed my hand abruptly and let my arm hang relaxed.

Did she...? Was she... fingering herself... during class?

My mind raced trying to calculate the odds.

She apparently secretly fingered herself in bed with me, while staring right at me, so she certainly wouldn't have any qualms about doing it while sitting right behind me.

Would she do it in a public place? There's no precedent for that, however, she is wearing over-the-knees to class for the first time. She suggested that she would never wear those in public, without reason, and that I gave her a reason. Would that reasoning translate? Did she wear them to specifically serve as a clue for this very speculation?

Would she do it in a room of other people, even if secretly? She's been essentially fingering me during class.

Am I reading way too much into everything? Would I be able to sniff it without looking like weirdo sniffing his own palm?

I could scratch my opposite eye, or something, placing the palm directly in line with my nose. Yeah, that would work.

But do I want to? I wanted the first time I smelled her to be untainted.

Maybe lick it- NO! Same principle! You're such a pervert.

Heh heh. I know I am.

Quiet.

Now's not the time.

Think.

Okay, so, I'm not going to sniff it or taste it. And it seems bad form to wipe it off. So, I'll just leave it as it is.

But is she waiting for me to sniff it? Dammit! Will I disappoint her by NOT doing it?

How much longer until this class is over? I am absolutely ruined for it.

Thankfully, it wasn't too long before the class ended. I really wanted to kiss her, but I kept it together, and started gathering my things.

She was about to walk by me, and do so closely. I felt suddenly in a zone. There was an instant of calm. The mind no-mind.

I licked my finger and held it out in just the right place, at just the right time, so that her movement grazed it, leaving a moist streak across the exposed skin of her outer thigh, and then I continue packing up.

Flawless execution. Perfectly fluid... so to speak.

She kept walking, showing no signs that anything out of the ordinary had happened. I briefly wondered if she even noticed, but, all things considered, I figured it was highly unlikely that she didn't.

I discretely watched her leaving. When she turned at the front of the aisle, I could see her cracking a smile.

I was good for the rest of the day.

She did not come over that night. No real surprise. She might have homework. Does she have a job? It's never come up.

I can appreciate the wait. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and whatnot.

~

On Thursday, she sat in her own desk. She wore a pair of shorts, a different hoodie, Converse, and a different pair of over-the-knees.

But what stood out the most was that she had a "smudge" of something on her thigh, curiously in the exact location, and the relative shape, of the swipe that I left on her the previous day.

Noticed: Confirmed.

Nothing unusual happened during class, except occasionally exchanging glances and barely restrained smiles.

I wondered if she would come over that night. Except for certain special subjects, there were no classes on Fridays, so, theoretically, there would be no need to stay home for something class related.

She didn't foreshadow anything, (not that I noticed, at least), so I went about my day as usual. Shortly after getting home, I received a text.

Excitement!

It was from my occasional employer.

Trepidation.

Text: Need you tomorrow. Can't pick you up.

I was sort of an as-needed helping hand for a guy that owned some properties out in the country. He usually picked me up, or sent someone to pick me up, although, the rare times he couldn't, he would pay extra, in case I needed to buy a ride.

He recently bought a new property, and has been cutting scrub trees. I was actually expecting the eventual call to have me come out and do the clean-up. Just didn't know when.

I wonder if she'd like to go with me and help out.

Wait.

Idea brewing.

I checked for what phase the moon would be in that night.

Almost full.

Good enough.

I didn't want to have to contact her by phone, but time was a bit of the essence, so I called her.

"Hey, dude. Ready to tell me more about this awesome chick?" she answered.

That felt so good.

"Maybe later. Right now I need to know if you want to go with me, tomorrow, and spend all day feeding trees into a woodchipper?"

"You had me at 'woodchipper'."

"I would hope by then. It was the last word in the sentence."

She chuckled, and then said, in a softer tone that broke character, "Actually, you had me to begin with."

Internal groan of pleasure.

"The catch is that we have to leave early, and you will have to drive us."

So, I guess you will have to-

"So, I guess I better just sleep over, then, huh," she asked, back in character.

Internal SQUEE!

Quit squeeing.

"Yes. Yes you will," I said, as matter-of-factly as I could.

"I'll be there in a few hours. I wanna hear more about this awesome chick of yours."

She hung up.

I may, or may not, have bounced up and down with excitement a few times.

Not important.

Okay. What to do until then? Prepare food. Ooh, wash my sheets.

I started the sheets washing first, and then prepared some meals to have for lunch while out in the middle of nowhere.

Not long after the sheets were clean, warm, and back on the bed, she let herself in.

Boots, sweats, cat-ears hoodie zipped. Plump bag (tomorrow's work clothes?).

Are you hungry," I asked.

"No. I'm good."

She carried her bag into the bedroom, and then returned without it to sit beside me, where she began untying her boots.

"So, tell me more about this awesome chick."

Okay. We can play this for a while.

"Well, she's kinda bold. But not too bold. Not the overbearing or intimidating kind of bold. The confident kind of bold."

She pulled her boot off. White socks.

"I mean, she still has some insecurities, but she's not afraid to acknowledge them."

Untying the remaining boot.

"And she is a little bit of a tease, but only in the best way. Not in way that cuts you off and leaves you disappointed. She always delivers."

Boot off.

"We both know how to enjoy anticipation."

She pulled a sock off, and started cleaning between her toes.

"Did I mention her confidence? I think I did."

Other sock off, and cleaning between toes.

"Wow," she said. "She sounds pretty cool."

She got up, pushed the coffee table out a bit, the turn to kneel on the floor in front of me.

"Yep."

She grabbed my foot, untied and took off my shoe.

"And full of surprises."

Pulled off my sock and ran a finger between each toe.

"So many surprises."

Then the other foot.

"She definitely keeps me guessing."

She stood.

"And I love it."

She looked at with a neutral face, and unzipped the hoodie at a measured, moderate speed.

Oh my god, she wore it. She wore the shirt.

She peeled off the hoodie and tossed it onto the sofa.

The graphic gave me an excuse, but you bet I was looking at her breasts. The form of her... obviously, otherwise unrestrained... perfectly sized and shaped... giving me an unbelievable boner... that I really want to adjust, but will force myself not to.

Nipples.

Her hands went to the waist band of her sweats.

You know when, like, you hear a sudden noise, that startles you, and you get the blast of a nerve impulse that fires through you, but it's not strong enough to cause you to flinch? And that flash of light behind your eyes?

That's what happened to me when she reached for her waistband.

She started pushing them down, over her hips, revealing more of the length of the shirt. After a point, the shirt was bunched up, so she had to carefully, manipulate both the waist band and shirt, so that, by the time the sweats were mid-thigh, so was the bottom hem of the shirt.

Keeping her legs straight, she bent over, pushing the waist band the rest of the way to her ankles.

Straightening back up, she pulled the hem down tight, removing all wrinkles and revealing her more pure form.

She just stood there.

Kept standing there.

I mean, I was certainly enjoying the sight, but it's been, like, 30 seconds. What is she doing?

She's stuck in the sweats, isn't she?

She wore ones with the elastic ankles, and she can't just slip out of them all sexy like.

I managed to hold back a grin.

I bent over and, one foot at a time, spread the foot hole to let her pull out of them.

I did this more slowly than necessary, as my face was nearest her legs than it had ever been.

Wait.

Did she do that on purpose?

I really wanted to do something to them, like kiss, lick, or give them a playful bite, but I didn't want to risk ruining whatever she was going for, and, in this instance, doing it only once or twice would be a weak move.

I did, however, inhale her scent, and briefly let my four-days whiskers brush against her. Unfortunately, I couldn't look to her face for a reaction.

After I had sat back up, her foot moved the puddle of sweats aside, and then she stepped forward, reaching for my waist.

What's she doing? What's she doing? Warning! There is a boner in the immediate vicinity!

She clutched the bottom hem of my T-shirt and slowly pulled up. I raised my arms to allow her to complete the task.

She then took one of my hands and guided me to stand, before reaching for my waist as second time.

She's doing it again, and holy shit it's pants this time.

Unbuckling. Unbuttoning. Sli-hiiiii-ding the zipper down, still staring me in the eyes.

Pants drop.

"We've got any early day, tomorrow," she said, flatly. "Gotta get plenty of sleep."

From where I stood, I watched her walk into the bedroom and get into bed.

...

OH MY GOD, SHE'S THE BEST!

My heart was pounding. What a fucking move. From the moment she stepped through the front door. How the hell am I going to sleep with my mind fucking blown?

I gathered up our clothes from the floor, mainly to give my boner time to die down. I went to the bathroom to pee and found an unsurprising pool of pre-cum in my underwear.

I might need to start keeping some extra pairs in here.

After a trip to the closet for an clean pair, I set my alarm, turned off all the lights, and crawled in beside her. She was facing away from me, again, which was probably for the best. Needless to say, it took me a while to fall asleep.

~

Ugh.

Getting up early on Friday morning.

Terrible.

Waking up next to her.

Wonderful.

I was actually eager to find out how she would get dressed. Surely hiding in the closet was old news.

We took turns peeing, and splashing water on our faces.

While I was putting my pants on, I had the great pleasure of watching her step into a pair of basic white cotton panties and pull them up.

No flash of the goods, but that was okay.

I was, however, taken aback when she turned away from me and pulled my borrowed shirt off entirely.

She was clearly very precise in her choice of angle, as I saw nothing of her moderate breasts, even as she put on what appeared to be a sports bra.

Dat ass tho....

And curse those olive green cargo pants that ruined a perfectly good ogling.

Actually, they were doing her some pretty good justice, so curse retracted.

She followed up with her boots, a snug tank top, and a flannel shirt. It was going to be chilly in the morning, but it would warm up enough later.

Last thing was a hair scrunchie for a short ponytail.

I carried the food as we got in the car, and then I played navigator along the way. Mostly just pointing.

At the property, I opened and closed the large swinging gate, and then had her park near the barn. I opened up the large doors to reveal a pickup with the large woodchipper hitched to the back. I pulled it out of the barn, she got in the passenger seat, and we headed out into the farthest reaches of the pasture to start.

Upon arriving, I offered her one of the two pair of well-used gloves that were always kept in the truck.

"We'll need these," I warned, handing her an unopened package of earplugs. I had my own personal pair in the glove box.

Outside, I took a moment to assess the situation. Most of the trees and limbs were fine to go in the chipper as-is, but some would have to be sectioned just to move them.

I looked at her. She looked at me.

"You ever use a chainsaw," I asked.

Her eyebrows raised a little.

"No, I haven't."

"Would you like to?"

"Hell. Yes."

We both smiled as I pulled it out of the bed of the truck. I started it up, gave it a test run, to make sure everything was in working order, and then I showed her how to use it, before handing it to her.

It took her a little time to adjust to the weight of it, but soon enough, she was taking care of business, cutting where I showed her. Once the sectioning was done, I put the chainsaw back in the bed and cranked up the chipper.

We both enjoyed using the woodchipper.

Woodchippers are fun.

Wash, rinse, repeat, in various different locations of the pasture, until we both started wanting lunch, so we stopped for a break. It was going to be a full day, so we didn't dilly dally. It was pretty much the same routine, with the occasional peeing on of trees. Out of each other's view, of course.