Monday, November 12, 2007
Ye Olde Naked Weekend, Introduction
I’d like to tell you all about a very nice weekend I once spent with a young lady when I was much younger.
This was well before I met Angela. As you’ll recall, for a year after graduating university, I worked at my alma mater on a large computer project that they were undertaking. It was early January, before the students had returned. The team that I was on was feverishly working to meet an upcoming deadline. Since the school was willing to pay for overtime, it wasn’t hard to encourage people still paying off college loans to put in extra hours, but 12 hour days and six or seven day work weeks get old really fast. To make things worse, it was one of those winter where the weather was cold and gray enough to make one miserable, but just warm enough so that, rather than snow, the ground was covered with mud and slush.
Fortunately, on this weekend, we were given a reprieve. The college computer system was to be offline for the weekend as the system administrators needed to install some new hardware and re-gen the terminal and printer nodes (if you are a large computer system networking person, you will understand what that means; if not, it is not really relevant to the story, I just included it to show how smart I am). So we were told that at 5 pm on Friday, we would get to have the entire weekend to ourselves.
There was a lady on my team named Liz that had graduated at the same time as I. She was dark-haired, tall, handsome, athletic, and friendly. She also had a nice butt, and being a spanko, this was no small thing for me. I had known her casually during my undergraduate days since we were both majoring in the computer sciences. She, like I, had taken the opportunity to get some much-needed experience in the field by taking a position on this project. She had been on my team for about three months. In that time, we had been out socially a few times, usually as part of a larger group. We were friends, nothing more.
To celebrate an actual weekend off, I had asked her if I could buy her dinner in a nice restaurant, and then head back to my place to burrow under some blankets and watch some basketball. “Watching basketball” was not a euphemism for anything as we were both rather avid basketball fans. I was not averse to the evening leading to other adventures, but, honestly, they were not foremost on my mind. Since the place I had chosen an establishment that had an excellent selection of liquor, and since I was more than willing to pay for the evening, Liz graciously accepted.
Friday night came, and the weather was especially crappy. The wind was howling, and an unholy mixture of rain, sleet, and snow was falling copiously from the sky. No matter how many layers of clothing one was wearing, the cold and damp seemed to find a way through to soak and chill one to the bone. Liz and I left our place of employment and headed to our own residences to get out of our worn-out work clothes and into something more fresh. The plan, since I lived between Liz and our destination, as that she would rendezvous at my place and we would take my vehicle and continue on from there.
Forty-five minutes she was due to arrive, Liz still had not showed. I was beginning to despair when I saw her car pull up. She was sharply attired in bright red slacks and a slick, stylish white blouse. However, she was also soaking wet and shivering. It seemed that her less-than-trusty vehicle had developed a flat tire on the way over. She was able to pull to the side of the road and attempt to make repairs, but as she was changing the recalcitrant wheel, a multitude of cars had driven by her at excessive speeds, each one splashing her with a considerable amount of miserable road slush. The entire experience had left her in less than a celebratory mood.
Being the gentleman, I immediately fetched her a towel so that she could dry off. I then offered her dry sweat pants and sweatshirt, and suggested that she put her wet clothes in my dryer for a few minutes to allow them to become refreshed. At first she refused, thinking that she would dry quickly. However, when she flopped into a chair and went “squish,” she changed her mind.
As Liz changed out of her saturated attire, I retrieved a pair of bottled alcoholic beverages from my fridge. We then stood in my tiny, dusty basement drinking our beer whilst the clothes dried. We wanted to make sure that they were pulled from the dryer before they wrinkled, so we checked them every few minutes. When they had dried, we gently removed them and headed up to the main floor of my modest abode.
I suggested that we finish our beer quickly so that Liz could get back into her own clothing while they were still warm. Liz thought that was a good idea, so she downed the remainder of her beverage in one swig, and headed off to my one bedroom change. Before she reached the bedroom, however, she paused, like she was trying to come to a decision. Considering her ordeal, I thought she might be thinking of calling off our date and going home to bed. Although I couldn’t blame her for feeling that way, I silently prayed that wasn’t the case.
This was well before I met Angela. As you’ll recall, for a year after graduating university, I worked at my alma mater on a large computer project that they were undertaking. It was early January, before the students had returned. The team that I was on was feverishly working to meet an upcoming deadline. Since the school was willing to pay for overtime, it wasn’t hard to encourage people still paying off college loans to put in extra hours, but 12 hour days and six or seven day work weeks get old really fast. To make things worse, it was one of those winter where the weather was cold and gray enough to make one miserable, but just warm enough so that, rather than snow, the ground was covered with mud and slush.
Fortunately, on this weekend, we were given a reprieve. The college computer system was to be offline for the weekend as the system administrators needed to install some new hardware and re-gen the terminal and printer nodes (if you are a large computer system networking person, you will understand what that means; if not, it is not really relevant to the story, I just included it to show how smart I am). So we were told that at 5 pm on Friday, we would get to have the entire weekend to ourselves.
There was a lady on my team named Liz that had graduated at the same time as I. She was dark-haired, tall, handsome, athletic, and friendly. She also had a nice butt, and being a spanko, this was no small thing for me. I had known her casually during my undergraduate days since we were both majoring in the computer sciences. She, like I, had taken the opportunity to get some much-needed experience in the field by taking a position on this project. She had been on my team for about three months. In that time, we had been out socially a few times, usually as part of a larger group. We were friends, nothing more.
To celebrate an actual weekend off, I had asked her if I could buy her dinner in a nice restaurant, and then head back to my place to burrow under some blankets and watch some basketball. “Watching basketball” was not a euphemism for anything as we were both rather avid basketball fans. I was not averse to the evening leading to other adventures, but, honestly, they were not foremost on my mind. Since the place I had chosen an establishment that had an excellent selection of liquor, and since I was more than willing to pay for the evening, Liz graciously accepted.
Friday night came, and the weather was especially crappy. The wind was howling, and an unholy mixture of rain, sleet, and snow was falling copiously from the sky. No matter how many layers of clothing one was wearing, the cold and damp seemed to find a way through to soak and chill one to the bone. Liz and I left our place of employment and headed to our own residences to get out of our worn-out work clothes and into something more fresh. The plan, since I lived between Liz and our destination, as that she would rendezvous at my place and we would take my vehicle and continue on from there.Forty-five minutes she was due to arrive, Liz still had not showed. I was beginning to despair when I saw her car pull up. She was sharply attired in bright red slacks and a slick, stylish white blouse. However, she was also soaking wet and shivering. It seemed that her less-than-trusty vehicle had developed a flat tire on the way over. She was able to pull to the side of the road and attempt to make repairs, but as she was changing the recalcitrant wheel, a multitude of cars had driven by her at excessive speeds, each one splashing her with a considerable amount of miserable road slush. The entire experience had left her in less than a celebratory mood.
Being the gentleman, I immediately fetched her a towel so that she could dry off. I then offered her dry sweat pants and sweatshirt, and suggested that she put her wet clothes in my dryer for a few minutes to allow them to become refreshed. At first she refused, thinking that she would dry quickly. However, when she flopped into a chair and went “squish,” she changed her mind.
As Liz changed out of her saturated attire, I retrieved a pair of bottled alcoholic beverages from my fridge. We then stood in my tiny, dusty basement drinking our beer whilst the clothes dried. We wanted to make sure that they were pulled from the dryer before they wrinkled, so we checked them every few minutes. When they had dried, we gently removed them and headed up to the main floor of my modest abode.
I suggested that we finish our beer quickly so that Liz could get back into her own clothing while they were still warm. Liz thought that was a good idea, so she downed the remainder of her beverage in one swig, and headed off to my one bedroom change. Before she reached the bedroom, however, she paused, like she was trying to come to a decision. Considering her ordeal, I thought she might be thinking of calling off our date and going home to bed. Although I couldn’t blame her for feeling that way, I silently prayed that wasn’t the case.
The next installment will discuss what really was the case.
Comments:
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Why, WHY must you do this to me? As long as you post this one in a reasonable amount of time!
# posted by 
: November 13, 2007 10:25 PM
: November 13, 2007 10:25 PM
My Dearest Lee -
I am endeavoring to employ an every-other-day schedule in publishing this tale. Should I fail to adhere to this timetable, I shall ask Angela to spank me.
Regards,
Frank
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I am endeavoring to employ an every-other-day schedule in publishing this tale. Should I fail to adhere to this timetable, I shall ask Angela to spank me.
Regards,
Frank
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