I like going out with you. I feel happy being seen with you because you are so pretty and I’m sure anyone who sees us together will be envious of me, being with someone as cute as you. I never mind anyone else eyeing you up, because I know you’re mine and I’m yours and we don’t want or need anyone else. So that means I can relax and enjoy myself and have fun and just enjoy being with you.
This evening we’ve stayed up late. We’ve got glammed up and managed to get into Amika in High Street Kensington. We’ve danced around and I’ve flirted outrageously with the guy behind the bar and blagged free shots off him, so we’re well wobbly by the time it’s time to leave.
There are no taxis around, and in any case it’s not far to walk to my room in the student block so we start walking down towards the IC buildings just off Exhibition Road.
We’re walking past the Royal Albert Hall when you start giggling.
“I need to pee, Annie”.
“We’re nearly back at my room, Vikka! Can’t you hold it ‘til then?”
“I don’t want to Annie!”
“Oh Vikka, really,” I say, pretending to sound cross. I know what you’re like. The feeling of wanting to pee is getting you sexually aroused. And knowing you’re aroused is arousing me too. And I could do with a pee too. I was going to hold on, but it would be fun…
We’re at the top of the steps down to the Royal College of Music, just by the statue of Prince Albert.
“I dare you to do it down the steps!” I say.
“Oh Annie, yes!” You don’t even pretend that you don’t want to - you’re already tugging your dress up.
I smile. “I’m going to do it too, Vikka. Panties off, ok?”
I hitch my dress up and pull my little thong down; there’s barely enough material to call them a pair of panties at all. I watch you doing the same. I stuff mine in my handbag; on an impulse, I grab yours and keep them too. You giggle even more.
“You can keep them if you like, my lover-girl!”
“I’m going to hang them in my trophy cabinet, babe; another pair for my collection,” I say, winding you up. “Then I’m going to open it to the public; I’ll call it “All My Lovers’ Panties”. It’s Art; I bet Tracey Emin wishes she’d thought of it first."
“You’re crazy, Annie! Come on, are you ready? Let’s see who can go pee furthest!”