We lived on the 400 block of East Duffy Street in an old row house built in the years after the Civil War. The houses of this sticky southern city stood in rows, like colorful crooked teeth, they hid their secrets from passersby. Our house held secrets too.
The afternoon rain did nothing to quell the summer heat. The steam rising from the streets gathered in droplets on my upper lip, and I lapped them up with my tongue, tasting my salty sweat and the stink of the city. The smell of jasmine wafted through the air as I climbed the creaky wooden steps to our house. I could smell something else too, a faint tinge of musk. It snuck from between my legs, down my thighs and through the thin material of my dress. I was dripping, not just from the heat, but from what he’d said while I was in class, what he made me do.
Take your panties off.
I hesitated, the glowing screen of my phone hidden beneath my desk in the dim light of my Architectural History class. The professor clicked through slide after slide of grand buildings, telling the stories that made them significant. It was my favorite class. Sitting in the cool dark room was a needed respite from the glaring heat outside, but it was the stories that kept me signing up each semester. The fires, the murders, the sex. The events that happen inside the buildings are what gave them their soul and made them more than just stone and wood and glass.
I sat down further in my seat and covered the offending screen with the folds of my dress. It was dark in the classroom, but what if someone saw? My hands shook as I moved my phone to the ever-appreciated pocket in the seam of my dress. I looked around carefully. Most of my classmates were dazed, heads in their hands, eyes glazed over in boredom. Some of them were asleep, their heads bobbing wearily on their necks. Many of them took these courses as a required elective and didn’t enjoy the curriculum with quite the same amount of passion as I did. The professor was facing the pull-down screen, her hand gesturing towards some obscure architectural element that was significant in one way or another.
I tugged at the elastic waistband of my panties through my dress, slowly inching them down over my ass. I hoped no one was paying attention as I reached up under my dress and grabbed the silky fabric, lifting my ass off the chair and pulling them down around my knees. I stopped just before they peeped out from the hem of my dress and looked around. No one was looking. I sighed, the heat of my embarrassment subsided slightly knowing my situation was yet undiscovered. Finally, I wiggled my knees and let the panties slide down my lower legs to my ankles. I quickly shuffled them off my feet and stepped on them and froze. If I don’t move, they can’t see me, right?
I sat there, sweating in the air-conditioned room, my face hot and flushed, my palms sticky. The clocked ticked loudly, letting me know that it was only a matter of minutes until the lights would be turned on and my classmates would begin gathering their belongings to leave. I had to get these panties off the floor quickly and quietly.
His distraction meant I’d stopped taking notes, I’d forgotten that I was in class and supposed to be paying attention. I realized I had exactly what I needed right at my disposal. I casually brushed my pencil off the desktop, watching as it dropped right by my feet. I scooped it and my panties up in my hands, grateful that I was able to do it in a smooth motion.
I balled them up in my hands, the soft fabric was damp in my palms. Now what? There was still eight minutes left until class was over and I had my panties wadded up in my hands. I looked at my phone.
Tell me when you’ve done what I told you.
I sent him a text confirming what an obedient slut I’d been for him, and I felt a new heat rise between my legs as I pressed send. What was I doing? Why did I like this so much? The truth is, we’d only just started dating. He just made me feel things that I’d never felt before. The sex with him was different. The relationship was different. I didn’t know how to describe it, but I just wanted to please him. In return, I got more than I ever dreamed.
Leave them on your chair and get home quickly.
I blanched. Someone would see! What if they called me back to retrieve what I’d left? My blood ran hot and thick inside me, pumping through my veins, down my body and straight into my cunt. I squeezed my thighs together, hoping that I wouldn’t also leave a wet spot on the chair next to my dirty panties. Only one minute left. The students around me began to quietly shuffle, gathering up their notebooks and pens. The professor glanced at the clock and pushed her glasses up on her nose. It was like everyone was counting down the seconds until my secret would be spilled out like a puddle on the floor, a mess for everyone to see.
The professor gestured towards the door, indicating the nearest student to flip on the lights. I clenched my fingers around the panties in my hand, not wanting to accidentally drop them as everyone around me stood to leave. I just waited there, frozen until the room had emptied. I could almost hear my heartbeat in the silence as I slowly stood and dropped the panties on the desk chair before bolting out of the room.
I burst through the glass doors into the sweltering heat, my face flushed and red and my breath heaving. I felt a buzz in my pocket as I walked the few blocks home.
Don’t say a word to me when you walk in the door. Just feed me that sweet pussy.
I was aching. I couldn’t walk fast enough to get to him. Each step reminded me that I’d left my dirty little secret sitting in that chair. Every brush of my thighs electrified my insides. I could feel my juices oozing out of me, seeping onto my skin. I rounded the corner of Habersham and bounded up the creaking wooden steps of 400 East Duffy Street, my hands shook as I put the key in the lock. I pushed the door open slowly, quietly as if I were trying not to disturb the thoughts swirling through my sex addled brain.
He sat on the couch, the light from the tall windows streamed across his naked body, his eyes devoured me. I dropped my things on the floor right where I stood and stepped towards him. I didn’t say a word. I hiked up my skirt and pressed my wet cunt to his mouth. And then I came loudly. My hands found the back of his head and pressed him into me as I ground onto his tongue.
The walls of old houses are thin. The windows are big. Old houses in old cities are crammed together, pressed close to the street as if they are all craning to see what is coming around the corner. Our secrets were on full display that day, our lust, our hunger for each other. There was one secret still hidden though. One small thing that I knew in the moment I walked through that door and saw his face. I loved him.