The Amateur Players (Closed for TheWorldBuilder)

[AndreaSubbie]

He was disappointed.

In her.

She tried to keep her demeanor cheerful, to look like nothing was wrong, but she felt the colour draining from her face, and her heart sank within. It wasn't just an expression, she could feel it happening.

Andi wasn't quite sure what she'd done, but the way he looked at her was almost of, what, disgust? And his eyes seemed to focus briefly on her chest. Was that it? Was her attempt at a little grown up sophistication so far off the mark? Did she actually repulse him?

Crossing her arms over her small breasts she listened and nodded as he mentioned something about building her a town, but she wasn't really listening. Yes, his eyes went back to her bra. He didn't like it. Hated it. But what on earth could she do now? If she took it off, what did that say? If she kept it on he'd go on hating it, hating her. She couldn't go home and change, even though it was only a short hop, it was still too far for that.

She could spill something down her top to give herself a reason to go change? She was caught, frozen almost in indecision. Spilling something down herself would just draw attention to the very problem.

"Excuse me!" she blurted and ran to the Ladies room, closing the door and rapidly unhooking the bra. She pulled it over her elbow and out the other arm hole, checking her profile in the mirror.

Thank goodness she had small boobs. She reckoned no one would notice. Men liked big boobs anyway, didn't they? No one would want to look at her little offerings. As long as her nipples didn't go all pointy. Trying to make the top as loose at the front as she could, she stuffed the bra in the bin; no point ever wearing that again if he didn't like it. Then back out to the Green room, where she poured Paul a tomato juice and made teas for everyone else.

They weren't actually staring at her boobs, it was just that their eyes as they sat and talked were at that level. Purely coincidence. Andi couldn't even look Paul in the face, she was so mortified and embarassed, mostly at getting it so wrong.

She buried her discomfort in activity.

One thing though, when it came to her scene on Trojan Barbie, she'd better wear the most natural flesh coloured bra she could find.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

She looked so pale. Surely she hadn’t been that deathly grey a moment ago?

"Excuse me!" She ran through the open kitchen door and her footsteps echoed slightly when she entered the short passageway at the far end of the room.

Paul was worried, she looked so ill. He started to follow her but hadn’t even reached the kitchen when she came back out and fussed around with everyone’s drinks. She was still shockingly pale, but the fact that there had been no sounds of expulsion and her current hyperactivity suggested that she wasn’t about to collapse.

She circled round with the tea, almost as if she was keeping her back to the kitchen door where he still stood. Cautiously, he moved back to the group. As he saw her profile more clearly, the other change beside her colouring was readily apparent. Her breasts sat in their natural position.

His blunt, masculine thoughts worked their way to the conclusion which he should have grasped immediately. She had been wearing some sort of push-up, he thought the change a negative one, something showed in his expression, she saw, she over-reacted, she fled, she’d rather have no bra than one his face clearly sent negative messages about.

Shit. Shit, fuck, bollocks, arse, cunt, wank and twat. What a fucking clumsy, stupid, insensitive oaf. Bugger.

She hurt. He'd hurt her. He wanted to roar his self-loathing. How could he ease her pain? She must hate him.

The four seated actors and set-builders continued their animated discussion, but Andrea’s intense burst of domestic activity took her back into the kitchen. Paul strode quickly. As she turned back to leave the room, his bulk blocked her way. There was no space to pass him and, as she tried, his massive arms wrapped around her and lifted slightly. She was securely back in his embrace, with the tips of her toes three inches above the floor.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

He'd caught her by surprise. Literally caught her. There was no wriggling free of Paul's strong bear-hug.

Damn and blast! Had he picked up on her humiliation? Hopefully he hadn't noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra anymore, at least not yet. He was supposed to just not hate looking at her anymore. The others hadn't noticed anything, she thought.

She didn't know what to do. She just hung there, suspended, rigid, arms pinned to her sides. She couldn't bear to look at him, dreading the disgust he'd showed earlier, or even worse his contempt at her reaction. What had he said before? 'Stop all this silliness.' Was she back there? Is this really what he thought of her? Too childish to wear grown up underwear, too childish to behave properly. Too childish to be with grown-ups?

It sent a chill through her and a deep sadness. She had let herself think she was doing ok, that she'd got over that, that she'd learned enough. That he might actually like her as a grown-up.

She was wrong.

She just hung there rigid, waiting for him to put her down.

She wasn't going to say anything. Wasn't going to do anything. This time she didn't need to cry. Not here.

Yes, she had learned. She would be strong. She would stand up for herself. He could do what he liked. She would be that defiant slave girl. She would survive.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

She was as stiff as a board in his arms. Not the soft form moulded to his that he recalled from their previous closeness.

Arms.

Ah, that might have been a mistake, she couldn’t wrap them round his neck this time.

No, it was more than that: her head was turned away from him. That might possibly give him a chance to rectify the situation, though.

He tilted his head slightly forward and whispered in her ear. “I don’t know how I manage to upset you like this when I really don’t mean to. Please don’t run away from me.” He gently kissed her cheek before lowering her body the few inches to the floor.

“Forgive the grumpy old bear?” he asked, trying to give her a reassuring smile. She was so different from the other women he had known and her enigma still unsettled him. He was inadvertently hurting her because he didn’t know what made her tick. Were their ages going to be an insurmountable challenge after all?

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Forgive him? How could she forgive him?

She couldn't look at him, keeping her face averted. Now that he'd put her down she had movement, and she turned her back to him.

But she didn't run away, not even walk away. She just stood there in the kitchen, in her little domain. She said nothing, did nothing, but more because she didn't know how to mend things than because that's what she'd decided a few seconds ago.

How did she manage to so completely screw everything up? Why on earth did she choose that bra? That was the problem. She just wanted to please Paul, wanted him to see her as a woman, not a girl. She was trying to be someone she wasn't, and Paul hated it. Hated it.

As twice before, he'd done nothing wrong. There was nothing to forgive. That's why she couldn't forgive him. There really was nothing for her to forgive. In him.

She was the problem. Maybe she really was still too young. She might be of age, but she wasn't adult. Her shoulders slumped lower.

All her self esteem seemed to be leaking out of her, maybe through her feet leaching into the floor. She was humiliated. Again. And it was all her own fault.

Polly had been right all along. She did want him to like her. But he only saw her as a child, to be protected. That's why he kept apologising when to anyone else he'd have sharp and to the point.

All these thoughts flashed through her head in the briefest of seconds.

But what should she do now? She couldn't stand here all night like the stupid girl that she was.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Now she hadn’t only turned her face away, but her whole body. As she stood there, her shoulders drooped. Paul was perplexed. He had tried to apologise and had been rebuffed. It seemed that as suddenly as an opening into her life had appeared, it had been slammed shut.

He very gently placed his big palms on her shoulders. “I thought you were my friend, my bookcase buddy?” With the tiniest of squeezes, he lifted them away. “Perhaps not.”

Instead of the soft, conciliatory voice, his forcefully growled words were now delivered with the sharpness of a rapier. “I’m fucked off apologising to you. You’re a grown woman now, Andrea, you can wear whatever the fuck you want. Just take a word of advice from this cynical old bastard: that fucking porno bra really didn’t fucking suit you.

He spun round and pulled the door with such force that the automatic closer was completely ineffective and the handle dug a huge gouge in the paint and plaster when it hit the wall.

Slowly, the door closed behind him.

The four other Players looked across as he stormed angrily back into the room. Whatever the Knitters had noticed between Paul and Andrea, the suggestions of blossoming love were certainly misplaced.

Mandy had the courage to break the silence. In as normal a voice as she could manage she asked, “which season are we in with the backdrop, Chief?”

The innocuous question broke into Paul’s confused thoughts about the woman in the kitchen.

“Late spring, May, I think,” he replied cautiously. He had been so preoccupied with his now-shattered fantasy that he hadn’t even checked so simple a matter.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

The quiet in the kitchen still held the reverberations of the door which had slammed so hard it nearly broke the wall.

Her head came up. Her shoulders came back. A grin spread across her face. She couldn't help herself, a little yelp of joy burst from her lips.

She clapped her hands together and did a little jig. She was actually dancing for joy. So people really did that too!

"Ha ha! I'm a grown woman and he noticed my bra!" She danced a few steps again, and started singing Cohen's 'Halleluia' again, but as a happy tune with her own made up verse, trying badly to make 'I'm a grown woman and he noticed my bra' scan. Musically it was a bit of a disaster but therapeutically it was a great success. She could hardly contain her excitement. It was a breakthrough.

Singing a bit louder she put the kettle on and made tea again and poured a tomato juice into the best large glass they had. Then humming to disguise her newly written verse she came through to the green room.

"Don't mind me!" she chirped without a care in the world, balancing the tray carefully and placing a mug of tea in front of each of the four, then with a little ceremony putting Paul's juice in front of him. Her right hand was now free and she placed it on Paul's meaty shoulder giving a little squeeze. She leant over and was about to kiss the top of his head but stopped herself just in time.

"I'll make space for the bookcase."

Humming her happy tune again she almost skipped out the Green room back to kitchen where she again burst into song, her cheerful version, the words quiet but distinct.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Paul sat in the lounge of the Embsay semi. He tried to run through the events of the evening again. When he apologised, she turned her back on him. When he was angry, she was delighted. OK, if there were only those two states of matter things would be simple. Mr Towneley’s Hypothesis. The confounding variable was the bookcase. Perhaps tomato juice and a squeeze? No, they were embellishments to the main issue.

Neither his creative side nor his scientific were getting anywhere. He tried to construct a logical narrative and the plot unravelled. He tried to formulate a thesis and the equations wouldn’t balance. She hated him but she wanted to be his friend. It just didn’t make sense. Paul hoped there wouldn’t be another scene on Thursday.

His fascination with the indecipherable girl had preoccupied him for too long. There were other things he needed to focus on. He needed to eMail Johanna about the sky meter project that FoLD were implementing, review the timetable for his school visits and check with Peter which solar ‘scopes were going to be operating for the transit of Mercury.

His train of thought brought him full circle: the transit taking him instantly to Richard Towneley’s November 1677 observation and thence to Richard's work on the relationship between pressure, volume and temperature that had finally been codified in the later publication by Robert Boyle. Love, hate, friendship. Where was the triple point that allowed the three states of matter to co-exist?

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Thursday evening Andrea wasn't the frst one in after the unlocking.

She carried the Tea and Coffee refills from the kitchen and was about to go through into the Green Room when she overheard voices.

Just before she stepped in the conversation stopped her dead.

".... how long before Paul and her get it on?" she heard, "seriously guys, we all know it's gonna happen, don't we?"

"Ha ha yeah, his eyes follow her around like lasers!"

"Well you can't blame him, I mean, look at her! Won't be long now, fellas!"

"Nah, not enough meat for me. I like a woman with big tits, something ya can get hold of!"

"Bollocks, mate, I bet you wouldn't kick her outta bed on a cold night!"

"Not on any night, ha ha, you're right there!"

"Fuck off, your missus'd cut your balls off and serve them on a platter!"

"I dunno, she's so cute my missus might go for a threesome?"

"In ya dreams, ya dirty ol bastard!"

"The question is, before Christmas or after?"

Andi couldn't listen to any more and returned to the kitchen leaving the stuff on the counter and thinking.

Her mind once more in whirl. She was jealous. So jealous. Who was this woman they were talking of, and how come Andi hadn't noticed her? What should she do? Scratch her eyes out? Tip tomato juice all over her?

Andi couldn't compete, she knew that. Her one little dalliance with more alluring grown up underwear had been a disaster.

But she was a grown woman, and Paul was a grown man. She wouldn't throw a childish tantrum. If Paul had another woman that was his business, not hers. Ok, yes she was jealous, but she had no right to be. Paul had made everything better. The only thing she could do was to be nice. Yes.

Pouring his tomato juice into the large ornate glass tankard she'd found in a charity shop, that probably should have been in an antique shop, she put it on the tray with the beverage refills and singing loud enough to tell the guys in the Green Room she was coming, carried the lot through.

There was a small group of them, stage hands and guys who built sets and stuff, and pretending she hadn't noticed the sudden silencing of their conversation said a cheery, "Hi guys!" before restocking the tea and coffee.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Paul and Mike walked into the Green Room to find the four youngest stage hands alone with Andrea. The men quickly glanced at each other before each facing Paul with a ‘what’s the script’ expression. Paul felt uneasy, there was some undercurrent and he didn’t like it. He was used to knowing everything about the Players and the Theatre. Even the clandestine fucking was on his radar. Who with who and how often. His brother’s ‘borrowed’ security equipment wasn’t only on the outside of the building. The motion sensors in each room wouldn’t tell him who was there, but they were sensitive enough to detect when two bodies became one. The rest was simple deduction from the foyer camera footage.

Mike was the first to speak. ”Five flats, Grecian, full backdrop, that’s a forced perspective of half a forum and the prætorium, spring afternoon.

One of the younger men pulled out a notebook and started scribbling.

Paul moved across to the old urn, where Andi was spooning in powder. He was told the drink had improved considerably since the days of the festering sludge, but there was still no way he’d be tasting it. He noticed the large, misty glass on the tray next to the tea bags. “For me?”

He chuckled as he picked it up and took a swallow. “10ish?” he asked.

Andrea nodded.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andrea followed her nod with a bright smile.

"Tenish will be perfect," and she watched Paul take a swallow of his tomato juice, chilled how he liked it, in the new glass she'd bought him specially.

Either he'd notice or he wouldn't. But if she was going to compete with the other woman she had to keep Paul liking her, so no pouting tantrums of disappointment just because he hadn't said anything about the glass.

This was war, and Andi was determined to win. She was again not wearing a bra, confused about which bra she could still wear without disgusting Paul, but again being small chested had its advantages. So far she'd heard no lewd comments. The four stage guys hadn't looked at her at all, and Mike and Paul had barely glanced in her direction. Maybe hers were so tiny, most men round here didn't even register them as boobs? At least she knew that Paul did.

She bolstered her confidence by singing her new anthem in her head while hummimg the tune, 'Halleluia, I'm a grown woman and he noticed my boobs,' it cheered her to the point of smiling as she finished getting the beverage area ready for everyone.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Leaning forward conspiratorially, he whispered, “You might get those little boys wound up, you know. A nice comfortable one that supports you properly will suit you just fine.” Raising his voice to its normal level, he continued, “Where did you find this lovely jug?”

Meanwhile, Mike continued to outline the individual scenes and which flats would stand in which positions for each one. From the corner of his eye he could see that Paul had whispered something before speaking conversationally. Glancing at the four lads, he didn’t think any of them had been so observant.

”Right, are you sure you know what’s needed? If you want to nip onstage, you can measure it out.”

Paul smiled at his friend’s way of clearing the room as the four youths filed obediently up the stairs into the wings.

As Mike moved over to get a drink, Paul looked down into Andi’s brown eyes.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

"I went looking specially, you do like it, don't you?" she did her very best to keep the anxiety out of her voice, as if it really didn't matter to her if he liked it or not. She thought she'd pulled it off ok.

Then in a whisper she added, "But do you want me to wear one? Better with, or without?" and this time she couldn't look at him until he'd answered. They were just making conversation. Ok, it was in whispers, and about what bras if any she should wear, but you don't discuss that with just anyone, do you?

Andi wasn't sure what answer she wanted from Paul. Probably just an answer would be enough. He'd kind of already suggested the solution, but she liked hearing him talk about her bra, her boobs. It was intimate and nice. She hoped he didn't have these kinds of discussion with the other woman.

As the other guys filed obediently out to the stage area Mike came over, and Andi thought maybe they'd lost their chance to speak. Maybe she'd just ask him again on Sunday?

She looked up into those beautiful steely blue eyes.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

As they caught each other’s glance, he uttered a single word, “With.”

Mike looked at the pair. ”So what’s going on?”

The physically contrasting couple answered as if choreographed, “Where?”

Mike looked for a moment, then shrugged. He couldn’t force them to admit their feelings, that was something they would have to work out between them. He moved onto steadier ground.

”Well the coffee’s certainly improved around here, have you got a new supplier Paul?”

He glanced sideways at Andi as he spoke to see if she would take the bait.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

"Oh no," replied Andrea, completely missing the point Mike was making, and not connecting the improvements with anything she herself had done.

Feeling daring, she said, "with it is then," to Paul knowing full well Mike would hear, but getting a thrill talking about her underwear with Paul while Mike was listening.

Then it hit her that Paul might not approve.

Oh well. She promised herself no pouting, no tantrums. When she messed up she must deal with it like a grown up, and again her little triumphal song ran through her head raising another smile while she quietly hummed the melody. It had become her song.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

”I’ll just check on those lads, make sure they’re measuring in the right places.” Mike quipped. He crossed the room and slipped through the door, leaving Paul and Andrea to their secrets.

“You must have spent some money on that bra, it’s good quality,” he stated. “If you want it back, it’s in the desk in the office. I know you’re still exploring, finding your way, but you’ve got too much class for clothing like that. It might appeal to those little boys up there,” he nodded across to the hidden steps leading up into the wings, “but not a mature man.” He walked over to the little table that stood where the rails of costumes had been the week before and sprawled lazily in the largest chair.

“Your childish dressing up days are over, Andrea. The only costumes you’ll wear now will be to portray a rôle, to sell an image, to narrate a story. What do you see as the image you’re selling, Andi. I think you should be elegant, stylish, refined. Keep things simple and play to your strengths. You’re a lovely young woman, you should be looking for a lovely man. That lot are all spoken for, anyway.”

He waved nonchalantly in the direction of the kitchen.

“Is everything to your satisfaction in your kingdom?” he enquired. “Polly will be here in a bit, when she’s finished work. Maybe you could chat to her about your little ’experiments’.”

The clumping feet on the steps were Mike’s hint to the pair that their private time was over.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andrea nodded, wondering if she really could talk to Polly. That would mean eating the pie made from Humble that people talked about, and she was a bit embarassed to do that. It's not easy admitting to others how wrong you are.

As Mike thumped his way down the stairs like a fanfare that announced, "I know there's something going on between you two and I'm letting you know you're about to have company," Andi thought about what Paul had said, a little frown wrinkling between her eyebrows to replace the smile.

He wanted her to find someone else, she thought, find a lovely young man, or was it a young man, or even a lovely man? She couldn't remember exactly, but it was clearly find someone else. Damn. It looked like the other woman was winning. Was she going to cry, have a tantrum and give up? Or was she going to stick to her plan and 'nice' her way to him. He did say she should play to her strengths, and being sexy and adult was not among them. So she would just have to be herself.

On the other hand he gave her a clue to what he looked for in a woman. Elegant, stylish, refined. Andi didn't know if she could pull any of that off without dusgusting him again trying to be someone she was not. But she could try. Small steps. See how he reacted little by little. Yes, talking with Polly might help. A lot.

Still, he did also say she was a lovely young woman. "lovely," and, "woman." She cherished the words seperately and together, weaving them in and out in a ballet of delightful burgeoning self confidence and esteem. And hummed her little song a bit louder as she finished getting the beverage area ready.

As Mike came back in she crossed to the little table and sat daintily in the smallest chair, right next to Paul, placing a glass of tomato juice on the table next to him. She was still humming her song.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Andi came over with the jug of juice he had forgotten and sat alongside him. He smiled at her as he picked up the large glass and took another mouthful. “So, Andrea, what shall we offer the good people of Skipton next year? The programmes for the pantomime need to be at the printers by the end of November and they’ll contain the future production list. We haven’t done Hobson for a while and that’s always a crowd pleaser to start the new season. I’m thinking something avant-garde for May, maybe Fabre’s Power of Theatrical Madness? What do you reckon, Mike?”

”I think you’ve got your Ada, right there.” Mike replied. ”Dare I suggest which part she’ll have in the Fabre? Perhaps May might be a little too soon,” he threw a warning glance at Paul, ”maybe a couple more months to find her feet?”

“You could be right,” Paul agreed, “not that far in May. We don’t want to jump straight into being Constance, do we? That can wait.”

Whatever thoughts Paul was having at that moment brought out his full smile and a little chuckle.

“Perhaps the Bard in May? Something seasonal.” Mike suggested.

Paul grasped Mike’s meaning instantly. “Færies and wood nymphs.” Now his laughter boomed. “How about Lear in the autumn?”

”Oh, yes. Turn and turn about. It’s only fair that she can window shop, too.” Mike’s tenor laughter joined Paul’s while the four men and the woman looked on in puzzlement.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andrea watched the verbal baton being passed between Paul and Mike and hadn't the faintest idea what they were talking about.

It seemed to have nothing to do with her, anyway. It was likely still that she would quit after the Panto, though she daren't say anything to anyone, even Polly.

Despite remaining cheerful and happy, Andrea was reconciling herself to losing the war against the unknown rival. It was unlikely from the start, and she herself hadn't exactly helped. Never mind. Lessons learned. Nothing broken.

It meant that she could just keep Paul as a friend. She liked him, enjoyed doing little things for him, liked his company and conversation and hugs. It didn't really need to be more than that. She was happy. She'd find someone to be with, a lovely young man, or at least a lovely man.

The problem was she didn't feel attracted to the young men. Like these guys here. They just didn't quicken her.

Tuning out of the men's banter about plays and quotes she started humming her happy tune again, then got up to tidy the kitchen and make her way home. It didn't look like anyone else was coming tonight. And Paul would want space to see his elegant lady friend.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

Polly was late. She must have been delayed at work.

“Do you need a lift, Mike?”

”I’ll need a crane, too. I’m not as flexible as you. Let me text her.”

Paul waited while his friend made contact and discovered Polly’s whereabouts. He idly watched the slim figure moving towards the kitchen and briefly regretted the loss of his fantasy. Was he worse off, though? He seemed to have finally won her friendship and there was lunch on Sunday to look forward to.

”Yeah, she’s stuck.” Mike announced.

“Are you done, lads?” Paul asked the huddled group near the coffee urn.

Their collective nods were a signal for him to haul his frame out of the seat. “We’ll call it a night, then.” His voice rose slightly, “come on, Andi.”

Once the group had made their way outside, Paul clicked the fob which locked the door and set the alarm. He stepped towards the little Triumph with Mike, then noticed Andrea looking curiously at the two large men next to the tiny convertible.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

Andi wasn't sure if she was meant to go with Paul and Mike.

The "come on, Andi," could have been shift your arse out the kitchen we're locking up, or it could have been we're finishing early how about joining Mike and me.

The two men had headed to the car without dragging her along so she'd carried on towards her own place, but she still wasn't sure if they expected her to tag along.

She didn't want to be a burden if they wanted bloke time, but she didn't want to be rude and brush them off.

Indecisions, indecisions.

And anyway, what was Mike doing driving the little white car if he was waiting for a lift? Paul drove a Land Rover.

Oh!

They got in, well squeezed in really, and Paul was driving? Did he have two cars? Why hadn't he told her? Why should he?

Shrugging, Andrea waved goodnight.

***

Sunday morning she up very early, showered, dressed, inlcuding a bra this time, usual t shirt and jeans. Every time she moved the t shirt untucked itself and she gave up trying to put it back. Hardly elegant, stylish and refined.

They were shifting furniture, for goodness sake, stop fretting she told herself.

By 9am the little bedsit was clean, tidy, aired, smelling nice, orange juice chilling, cokes in the fridge, fruitcake ready. She'd laid out her favourite dress on the bed ready to change into, an inexpensive button front cotton dress in a green floral pattern, quite figure hugging. With a green woollen cardi and tights it should be arm enough for lunch. She so hoped Paul would approve. She almost wanted to show him the bra she was wearing to have that approved too. How could she ask without appearing slutty?

An hour to go.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

The five shelf 1960s bookcase was a little awkward, but not especially heavy. Its style was slightly dated, but plain enough to sit in Andrea’s flat without screaming ‘look at me’. Paul swung the rear door of the Series III shut and opened the little gate across the driveway.

Although the market wasn’t set out near the castle, enough Sunday trippers had found their way into town to make the two mile journey from Bow Bridge Drive to Cavendish Street a slow crawl down the Bailey. It was almost ten minutes before he parked outside her front door, facing the corner.

Climbing out, he tapped on the door in passing, then continued to the back of the Landy. It only took a moment until the wooden frame was propped against the wall and he had locked the vehicle. Stretching across the five foot frontage, he lifted the old bookcase by its two upright sides and stood by her door.

 

[AndreaSubbie]

The door! The door!

In her waiting Andrea had dozed off in the chair and woke after the knock on the door eventually filtered through dreams pleasant but receding faster than she could catch them.

Shaking herself into wakefulness she scurried down the stairs and opened up to Paul. She was a little daunted by the size of the furniture.

"You should have told me you have such a big one, Paul? How am I supposed to get it inside?" she declared. "It's a bit tight up there," and she nodded over her shoulder to the stairway, "I don't know if it'll fit?"

She stood hands on hips trying to work out which way they might carry it to get round the dog-leg.

"How do you think we should do this? You're the one with experience."

By the time it was in the room it looked even bigger.

"Crumbs!" was all she could say, looking at it.

She had made space on the wall behind the breakfast table, next to the bathroom door, but the bookcase overhung the doorframe by a good few centimetres.

"Well it's a lot better than no bookcase! Thank you, Paul!" and stepping up she kissed him on the cheek.

"Want to help yourself while I get changed?" she asked, pointing to the juice and cake she'd got ready, a matching glass tankard just like the one at the Theatre.

A little shyly she said, "I thought you might like one here too, to make you feel at home?"

Then spinning round picked up her posh clothes and skipped into the bathroom with them.

A few minutes later she emerged, and twirled for him seeking his approval.

She had so wanted to change in front of him. A very silly notion that made no sense, except that perhaps that she wanted his approval not just of her clothes and her bra, of of herself too?

Whatever it was, she had observed the conventions of decency and now stood ready for their date.

 

[TheWorldBuilder]

He stood patiently, crucified. Eventually the door opened and a bubbly Andrea stood there with wide eyes.

"You should have told me you have such a big one, Paul? How am I supposed to get it inside? It's a bit tight up there. I don't know if it'll fit?"

Mentally, he briefly saw Madeline Smith speaking to Frankie Howerd, but dismissed the thought as he looked at Andi’s much smaller breasts. Surely she wasn’t doing it deliberately, she was such an innocent.

"How do you think we should do this? You're the one with experience."

He shook his head again, no that still hadn’t cleared the erotic images. The dark side of his psyche decided to play along with her.

“It’s not gigantic, maybe a little bigger than you were expecting. The old ones are a bit larger than they make them now. I’m not sure you’d get your hands round it like I can. Maybe we should just get it up there and see if it will fit without hitting the bulb that sticks out at the far end.”

The dual images, one visual and one cerebral, of her inadvertently exposed midriff and of his bell tapping insistently on her cervix, made him start to harden and he twisted slightly to press his thickening bulge into the large piece of furniture. Being a grower, he didn’t normally worry if his cock was obvious to the view. He knew it was now.

By the time the furniture was in her room, he was most of the way to being fully hard, without the space for his flesh to spring forward to its natural position. His thickness pressed the thin material of his trouser leg outward.

”Crumbs,” she said, looking at it.

It was too big. There was about 2” too much to fit properly. She stared at it for a moment and then said, "Well it's a lot better than no bookcase! Thank you, Paul!" Stepping towards him she stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. He could feel her stomach slide across his hot erection as she rose against him.

"Want to help yourself while I get changed?" she asked. A moment passed before he registered that she was pointing at the orange juice. "I thought you might like one here too, to make you feel at home?"

With a twirl and a grab, she was into the bathroom with the door closed behind her.

Paul breathed a sigh of relief and turned away from the door. He didn’t want her to see him adjusting his engorged flesh if she suddenly reappeared. More comfortable now, he poured some juice into the twin of the jug round the corner and gently lowered himself into the protesting chair.

She was soon back out, pirouetting in front of him coquettishly. He slowly let his gaze travel from her dark, shoulder length, hair to her deep brown eyes, her cute button nose, soft bow lips, elegantly curved neck, down to the gentle swellings inside her green frock. The material was snug on her body and he could make out the simple but effective bra beneath. He paused for a moment, before allowing his eyes to drop to his favourite part of her body.

Her flat stomach was the star of so many of his dreams, most often where she was stretched out with her head and lower legs dangling off whichever surface he had laid her on. She was invariably giggling as his lips gently brushed over her taut skin, whilst he tried to lick the cream covered strawberry out of her navel.

Continuing on, he saw the dress gently flaring over her slim hips and he concluded his pleasurable journey at her slender feet. He looked back up to see her watching him.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “A vision that would have inspired Charles Lutwidge Dodgson to even greater creations than Alice."

He smiled at her. “I didn’t expect you to change, remember how dirty I said the Land Rover is. Never mind, you’ve done it now and you look so pretty. Sit down, there’s no point going out for at least an hour. Not unless you prefer a noisy pub to my company.”

 

[AndreaSubbie]

She was happy.

Gracefully insinuating herself into her chair, the twin of the one that Paul was straining almost beyond its endurance, she hummed her little tune and looked at the big gruff lovable bear.

He was using the glass tankard. It pleased her a lot. And he'd given her a proper scrutiny, just as she wanted even though she hadn't asked. Maybe she had a chance over the other woman, despite the elegance and style she was competing against.

Paul called her 'beautiful' and 'a vision,' which was pretty high praise. She might not be sexy or adult enough to stir Paul's blood, but she did seem to please him, and for now that was enough.

They had an hour, and Andi tried to get Paul to talk about himself, the things he loved besides the theatre, his hopes, his plans for the next year, his creative dreams.

It was lovely just listening to his growly voice and hearing what he had to say. She wanted to know everything about him without prying, not being nosey but being interested. In him.

He certainly knew a great deal about all kinds of things Andi had never even thought of, and as expected his understanding of Plays, Stagecraft and Entertaining was impressive. She asked him about his friendship with Mike and Polly, and was surprised to discover how long they'd known each other.

The hour flew by, and soon it was time for the Land Rover experience.

Andrea found a dust cover left behind by the Landlord when the bedsit was decorated prior to the new tenant, her.

"I'll put this over the seat if that's ok Paul? I'm wearing my best dress in your honour for our date." She wanted to say she was also wearing her best bra for him, but felt too shy.