Weekend at Hisao's IndexAt the Train Station (This post)A Dark and Empty HouseDinner with the FamilyOn the Couch (Erotic Content)
In the Bedroom (Erotic Content)
Tied to the Bed (Erotic Content)ParenthoodHagglingCounteroffensiveBattle LinesReflectionsBack at the Train Station AgainStepping Together Into the FutureEpilogue: Drabbles from the Reception
-----At the Train Station
She waves at me over the heads of the crowd. I wave back and step aside, waiting for the other passengers to walk by. She is grinning excitedly, like a little kid on Christmas morning, as she literally skips towards me and flings herself into my arms for a nice, tight hug, which I am, of course, more than happy to provide.
[You have no idea how much I need this,] Shizune signs, after we finish our hug and finally let go. [College has been hell.]
[You should have chosen a nice, relaxing subject, like science, then,] I sign back, grinning, [instead of something stressful like business].
[Hypocrite. You were the one sending me email after email about how much you hate your lab classes.]
[Temporary insanity,] I joke. [I must have been delirious from having so much fun. Is that everything you packed?] I ask, gesturing to the small duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
[I'm traveling light,] Shizune signs back, as we leave the train station. [No books, no laptop, just the essentials.]
She looks fantastic. In the three months since we've last seen each other, she's grown her hair out from its old chin-length pageboy cut to about shoulder length, tied up into a high ponytail. A pair of small, tasteful diamond studs adorn her pierced ears, offsetting the diamond pendant hanging from the silver chain around her neck. She's dressed in a black turtleneck and a short, pleated skirt in a red tartan pattern, the hem of the garment ending an enticing couple of inches above the tops of her thigh-length black stockings. She's exchanged her old glasses for a pair of elegant black half-frames. Taken individually, each element works for her. Taken as a whole, the effect is nothing short of stunning.
She catches me staring at her, and she grins. [Like what you see?] she signs.
[Love it,] I reply. [You look great.]
[You don't look so bad yourself,] She signs back. [I like the new haircut.]
I grin sheepishly and rub the back of my neck. [I had organic chemistry last semester. I got sick of my hair always getting in my face with my hands full of glassware, so cut it shorter.]
[It looks great. Very professional. My father, however, would not approve.] She pauses, stands up straight, and strikes an arrogant, condescending pose, one hand resting on her duffel bag as if on the hilt of a sword. [Short hair! Long hair is the sign of a true man! Short hair is for convicts and delinquents! And that blazer! Only lawyers and tax collectors wear blazers! Disgraceful. . .]
I roll my eyes, and Shizune giggles silently, putting her hand over her mouth as her eyes scrunch up with delight at my annoyance. [Your father still thinks I'm a useless piece of crap that won't ever amount to anything,] I say, as we walk down the stairs and towards the bus stop. [I could fly to the moon and bring back a moon rock, and he'd complain that in his day, they would have brought back two.]
Shizune rolls her eyes, but she does not disagree. [I sympathize. There's a lot about me that my father doesn't approve of either.]
[Oh? What now?] I ask, feeling my hackles rise. If he's been giving her a hard time about not talking again, I swear I'll. . .
[Well,] Shizune signs impishly, a smirk quirking up her lips into a catlike smile. [For one thing, I'm not wearing panties right now.]
I blink and blush bright red.
Shizune's smirk turns into a sly grin. [Want me to prove it?]
I immediately divert us away from the crowd and into an alleyway behind the train station. She's already undoing my pants as we toss our bags down and start kissing. She comes up for air with her face flushed red with desire and her breathing heavy and low with arousal. I move in for another kiss, but she pushes me gently away and leans back against the wall. She pulls up her skirt. She wasn't lying.
It's always been like this. For Shizune, it's the thrill of possibly being caught. Whether it's in the student council room back at high school, or tied to a chair in her parents' guest bedroom, or in a back alley behind the train station, nothing turns my girlfriend on like thinking that, at any time, that someone could see her in the throes of making mad, passionate love to me.
Screwing her against a dirty wall in a dark alley behind a train station isn't my idea of romance, but I proceed manfully onward, putting my own squeamishness aside. She throws her head back and grabs me close, gasping wordlessly as I come in hard and fast. A little too hard and fast: a sudden flutter in my chest reminds me of the limits I need to respect, and I slow down into a somewhat more measured pace, taking deep, long breaths. With time, the tunnel vision recedes, and I'm able to simply enjoy this moment.
I'm already starting to feel myself nearing the breaking point, much quicker than her body language tells me she is. I try going through the various hydrocarbon functional groups by memory, including formula, structure, and nomenclature. Her body starts to tense up just as I'm visualizing the molecular structure of ethylene. She bites down on my shoulder to stifle her shuddering cry of pleasure just as I finish working through the steps of the hydroformylation of the same into propionaldehyde.
After that, I forget about chemistry for a bit and concentrate on wild, passionate, animal sex. It doesn't take much longer after that.
I take a moment to wipe her off with my handkerchief, then do the same for myself as Shizune dusts herself off and rearranges her hair. I toss the soiled cloth into the trash as we walk out of the alleyway. The bus stop is empty except for us, so we sit down together on the bench and wait for the next bus to come by.
[Thank you,] Shizune signs after a bit.
[For. . . indulging me,] she says, blushing a bit sheepishly. [For putting up with my perverted tastes.]
[It's fun for me too,] I admit. [But next time. . . let's do it the way I like.]
[A little wine, a little music, some candlelight? Falling asleep in each others' arms afterwards?]
[Well. . .] I admit. [We don't have to fall asleep. . . seems like a waste of time when there's so much else we could be doing. . .]
Shizune grins at me wolfishly, then reaches up to put my arm around her waist. She leans her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes, and we sit there, waiting in companiable silence, for the bus to arrive.
It's going to be a good weekend. I can feel it.
-----Author's note: I have a few vague ideas of maybe expanding this into a story about the rest of the trip, paying a visit to Hisao's friends and family, if I can think of an interesting way to do it. Anyway, I just had this idea in my head after watching Shizune's two H-scenes and noticing a real exhibitionist theme running through them.