Chapter 11 - A Rude Awakening

The next morning I awoke to a godawful pounding. In my semi-somnolent state I first thought the pounding was internal to my aching head, but slowly realized the pounding in my head was at a different tempo from the pounding on the door.

My sleep had been troubled, mainly by visions of the pale yellow panties, trimmed with some pretty blue lace, that were hanging outside my dorm window and not where they belonged - on my body. After solitary confinement for two and a half years, could that be Connie pounding to get out and not just the aftermath of too much booze?

I couldn't hear myself think, but I could hear a woman's voice loudly chastising the %$#& thief who had take her %^3$@ panties and hung them out the window of this ^&^%(*# room! Foolishly, I stumbled over to the door, wearing my men's flannel pajamas, the kind with a long fly held closed with one lousy snap in the middle that always comes unsnapped while you're sleeping, giving the world a look at your penis if you're not careful. I squashed the wish to be wearing my old violet flannel nightgown with the black trim.

Even more foolishly, I opened the door and was bowled over by someone who had launched herself at the door in hopes of becoming a battering ram. We ended up in a tangle of limbs with her left breast pinning my right hand to the floor and her face disturbingly close to my crotch. To my horror, that damnable fly had parted and my penis and one of my balls was but inches away from her lips.

Time froze. Just what do you say in such a situation? My mother would have been proud that her training in politeness had taken root and blossomed.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Connie, uh Conrad Cobb."

"I refuse to believe this is happening."

She had a nice voice when when she wasn't shouting.

"It does seem somewhat improbable."

"I suppose I should apologize for my rather rude greeting."

"Accepted, of course. If you could move just a bit, I'll remove my hand from your body and use it to tuck myself back in."

Her breast was a lot warmer and softer than the primitive forms Connie had used.

"I can't believe this! A panty thief who talks like someone out of a hoity-toity movie."

"You'll have to admit that something like this could only occur in a British farce."

"That thing in my face doesn't look like a prop."

"Someday I hope to find out if it's functional, but I really don't know."

"What? A guy that actually admits he hasn't used it?"

"I'm saving myself for marriage?"

"Jesus! That went out with the Victorians."

"Not where I grew up. But I'm lying. I've never had the chance."

"This is undoubtedly the weirdest conversation I've ever had."

"Uh, not that I don't appreciate where my hand is, but it's starting to go to sleep."

"That thing in front of me doesn't appear to be sleeping."

"That happens some mornings. Not that I've ever had a woman close enough to observe. Probably you being there has something to do with it waking up."

"Then I suppose I'd best move. Besides, someone will probably come along and investigate what's happening."

"Since the door bounced shut we won't have to worry about our conversation being too public."

"Or too pubic."

She moved. I moved. In all of my seventy years I've never heard of anyone meeting quite as Julie and I met. Once I saw her face I knew who she was. She was in the MBA program as well, having transferred in this year from someplace or other. Since we were heading for different concentrations, I only had her in one of my classes and we hadn't really talked to one another. You can believe I had noticed her, she was a striking woman.

"I take it those are your panties hanging from my window?" I asked.

"I didn't come here just to examine what's in your pants, buster."

"Or out of my pants. You have very nice taste in panties." I offered.

"Can't say the same for what you're wearing."

"I left all my panties home when I came to college."

"What?"

"Roommates are so nosey, I didn't want to have to explain."

"That you like to wear panties?"

"Don't you?"

"I was wrong. This conversation just got weirder."

"That's what you get when you launch yourself at strangers."

"I hardly think you could be a stranger after I've been within sucking distance of your cock."

"That thought did occur to me, too, but I was trying to be a gentleman."

"A gentleman who collects panties."

"If you like to wear them does it count as a collection?"

"Only if you keep it in a glass-front case."

"Would hanging from a window qualify?"

"Not in my book."

"I keep my panties in a drawer, not a book."

"I don't suppose you can press them like flowers?"

"Only if they're flowered panties."

"I hesitate to ask this, but do smell your panties like you smell flowers?"

"I wouldn't see the point. They'd smell like me."

"Too bad the ones you stole have been washed, then you could give me your opinion. You could put the ones in the window on and we could check tomorrow, as long as your roommate isn't back."

"He's away giving his girlfriend's panties an inspection. Or more likely inspecting where her panties had been."

"Must be something about the air in this room makes people want to get up close and personal with crotches."

"I would suspect that most men would be interested in getting up close and personal with a woman's crotch, air or no air."

"You've got that right. I'm surprised you haven't made a move yet."

"Are you offering?"

"Are you interested?"

"Only if you're offering."

"We'll see. Let's conduct the smell test before we jump into anything."

"I have to agree with you about one thing, though."

"And that is…"

"This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had."

"You interest me. I get so damn sick of men who only want to fuck me. You've spent quite a while alone with me, even shown me your penis, and yet you didn't jump at a veiled invitation to get me naked."

"There's more to me than meets the eye."

"So are you going to wear my panties?"

"I would hate to turn down such a generous offer."

"Well, what's stopping you? I've already seen it. Maybe I like looking at crotches."

I dropped my PJ bottoms, took a step to the window and retrieved her panties, then pulled them on. They were a pretty good fit. She was slim but had hips that I would kill for - on my own body.

"You actually did it."

"You asked, I delivered. Was it worth it?"

"I never comment on a man's size. It's how he uses it that counts."

"And I've never used mine."

"To the dismay of all womankind."

"What about the kind woman in the room with me?"

"Maybe you'll find out tomorrow. You going to put on some pants before I open the door?"

"Probably a good idea. I can just about guarantee that there will be an audience waiting after your dramatic entrance."

"Then we should give them a dramatic exit."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Come over to the door and put your arms around me."

Not an invitation I would turn down. She opened the door and moved toward the hall, where she gave me the first and only passionate kiss of my life. With tongue. I did my best to reciprocate, but she was tall enough that I had to stand on tiptoe.

"See you tomorrow, lover." she called as she strode off down the hall. I know Mom told me that girls don't stride, but she managed it. I may not have been able to look at her crotch, but her ass was definitely worth watching until she went down the stairs.

The reaction from the guys staring at my door was all I could have hoped for.