Hello boys,
It's not every day I feel like I need to wash my hands as much as Lady Macbeth. Wednesday's naughty little prank last night has earned her Jill Kill status for the rest of the week. It's going to be a very long couple of days for her.
Sorry our little letter is coming to you so late in the day. We had been hoping to keep our normal schedules, but this week is going to be a total loss in terms of our higher education. We're all just drifting through days in post-coital horniness and torturous anticipation. You've ruined us. We just slept in today and skipped our classes. We enjoy imagining that we're having a similar detrimental effect on your lives as well.
Tonight Thursday will appreciate Anthony. Her reporting on his good deeds is sketchy, since she keeps on about his smile and how she loves his black hair. However, we did manage to get a little something on him. He has arranged his school schedule so that three days a week he visits a group home near the city center where he visits his sister who has Downs Syndrome. He takes her to the petting zoo or out for a smoothie or a walk through the park where he pushes her on the swing. He's never embarrassed of her, even when she grabs someone else's smoothie.
We're pretty sure Thursday will do a great job of letting him know how we feel about guys like Anthony.
Tonight we hope Gabe will allow us to use his delicious rug. You need to come up with a couple of beanbag chairs. Anthony, Thursday loves your voice and she loves stories. Maybe you can think of a hot one to tell her. We'll join you in the basement in the dark at 9:00.
Love, Monday, for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
----
Anthony beamed. "Those girls are absolutely brilliant. I love smart girls."
Dieter tried to look happy for Anthony, but his face said he was hoping Thursday was his day.
"Hey, Dieter, don't worry. I bet they're saving the best for last," Steve said, putting his arm around his friend's shoulder.
"I hope so. I have to keep making my workouts longer to burn off the boner."
"You poor man. Get over it. Okay- I'll grab some beanbags at the mall," Anthony said, grabbing the keys to his car. As he walked out the door, the guys just heard him wondering to himself, "I wonder if I can get those in cashmere?"
----
As it turned out, Anthony could only get vinyl beanbags, and given the trajectory of the week, he felt that it would be pretty tacky to just plop those on Gabe's alpaca rug. Gabe had an idea though, and they ended up covering the beanbags with the rug. It was the best of both worlds.
At 9:00 the girls came into the darkness, chattering and lighthearted. If there was any friction in their house today, it was forgotten now.
"This is my favorite part of the day," one of the girls said cheerfully, feeling for the girls' chairs, "even if I can't get boned."
Anthony stood between the beanbags, barefoot in jeans and a comfortable cotton button down shirt with his sleeves rolled up.
"Anthony?"
"I'm here."
The girl's hand bumped into his arm and he held it, searched for her other hand, and held that too.
"I'm Thursday," she started, "but I guess you knew that."
"I'm Anthony, but I guess you knew that. Would you like to have a squishy seat?"
"In a minute. I want you to look at me first, I mean, in the only way you can."
Her voice was subdued, a little nervous, but like the other girls, her voice was intelligent and clear. Anthony thought it was amazing how beautiful a woman's voice could sound.
Anthony reached up and touched her face. Her head was down a little, she was clearly fighting nerves. He stroked her cheek and ran a hand through long wavy hair.
"This is difficult for you," Anthony whispered so the others couldn't hear.
Thursday nodded and whispered back, "I didn't expect to be so shy, but last night was such a- a hard act to follow, and I really can't compete with that. I was really into the game until just this moment and now I have cold feet."
Anthony put his finger on Thursday's lips. "Hey. Let me take some of the pressure off okay? Last night wouldn't have been my thing. You girls are great, and I've been looking forward to meeting you, but this is supposed to be fun. For all of us. You don't have to do anything that's not fun for you. Don't compete. I really enjoy a woman who's enjoying herself and I want you to enjoy yourself. You're completely free to stop any time."
"Wouldn't I leave you..." Thursday searched for the word, "...horribly frustrated if I did that?"
"Yes you would, but I can go a long way towards alleviating that frustration all by myself with no regret. Don't do anything you'd regret."
Thursday hugged Anthony warmly. "You know, I think that's all I needed to hear. Thank you." She took a breath. "Now, I got all dressed in this Renaissance faire getup and I think you need to do your duty and experience it."
Anthony let his hands run over Thursday's back. She was wearing a form-fitting top made of a soft velvet. There were small buttons all down her back. Anthony took his time, feeling her shoulders, the wide boat neck of the top, Thursday's small breasts with her nipples pushing out against the fabric and his fingers. She had a flat belly that moved expressively with her breathing.
"Keep moving down," she murmured, "I think you'll like this part."
Anthony had gathered that the other girls had worn fairly short and revealing clothing, and was surprised when the thin silk fabric of Thursday's skirt went almost all the way to her ankles. He was also impressed with exactly how far that was. She had legs that went on and on. He had to kneel to find the bottom of the skirt. Her feet were bare.
"Mmm," Anthony said, "I love the feel of this skirt on your legs. You're so soft and smooth.
"Go ahead then. I like your touch. Feel this skirt on my legs."
Anthony ran his hands up the backs of Thursday's legs, the fabric bunching and running between his fingers. He rested his cheek against her stomach. His hands reached her ass and he enjoyed feeling the perfect balance between the softness and the firmness of her bottom. Her hand caressed his cheek and mussed his hair.
"There was one thing about last night," Thursday said, "that I thought was unsatisfying. Can you guess what it was?"
Anthony's fingers were under her skirt, exploring the perfection of Thursday's thighs, and he found it hard to tear his attention away from Thursday's legs. He said the first thing that came to mind. "She never explained about the pillowcases in the laundry. What the hell was she talking about?"
"Yes! I was so hoping she would get around to that. It made me hot thinking about what it would do to you."
Anthony had his fingers trailing across the surface of Thursday's cotton panties. "It's kind of hard to be interested in laundering pillowcases. I'm interested in getting into your..."
Thursday knelt down so she was nose to nose with Anthony and took his face in her hands. "Sometimes when a girl is extremely horny and she doesn't have anyone handy to, well, fuck her, she finds it necessary to hump what's handy, and usually what's handy in a girl's bed is her pillow."
Anthony was dumbstruck. "You can do that?"
"We all can do that, and we all do."
There was an indignant snort from one of the girls.
"Okay, well most of us do. One of us keeps a few wiggle toys in the second shoebox from the left on the shelf of her closet behind her teddy bear for occasions when she can't get boned."
Laughter erupted out of the darkness from three of the girls. "I'm going to move those as soon as I get back to my room," said an embarrassed voice.
"Pillows. That is totally hot," Anthony stuttered. "I would love to see that."
"I sort of hoped you would. Steve?" Thursday's unexpected change in tone surprised everyone, and startled Steve.
"Me? Uh, here." Steve had not expected to be addressed.
"Be a sweetie and get Anthony's pillow from his bed for me."
"His pillow? Okay." He bumped into the wall and stumbled up the basement stairs.
"Anthony, I want you to sit on the floor and lean on one of those bags. Spread your legs. I'm going to set up between them."
Steve came back, breathless. "What did I miss?"
"The pre-game show. Toss me that pillow." Thursday said.
Thursday took a deep breath, hugging the pillow to her breasts. She smelled Anthony's cologne, a faint smell of shampoo and a concentrated scent she recognized as uniquely his. Her arousal spread through her warmly. She buried her face in the pillow and breathed again, feeling the drug of the man go to her head. "I might be able to come just from your smell," she said fondly.
Anthony felt like he was flying, and it took him a while to remember what she was talking about when she said, "Now would be a great time for your story."
He went blank. He had written down the names of half a dozen stories he had written, with a range of subject matter, and he had nothing.
"Normally," Thursday was saying, "a girl will fantasize about some person or situation; you know, seducing the professor, or a romantic picnic under a tree on a hill that leads to a tumble in the grass, licking chocolate off a man's...