XIII. Too Long Trousers

'Hi Mom, I'm so sorry we couldn't make it last week: we had unexpected guests from Sweden, Breta's mother and younger sister. Their visit was short and pleasant, but it ruined our plans to come and see you. However, nothing's gonna stop us at the coming weekend, so be warned and stay cool, remember my last letter, okay? I see you in a few days now, can't wait, Rob.'

The preparations weren't long: for the short brake in his hometown Robin and Breta only needed a basic things like toiletries, couple of shirts per person and a cocktail suit and dress plus formal shoes - just in case. They had another hour before departure; she asked him to pack the luggage and went to the bathroom. He opened a suitcase and put footwear in the bottom, following by feather jackets and scarves, then shirts and toothbrushes. Then he noticed Breta's trousers hanged on a chair. He knocked the bathroom door and shouted to be heard through the noise of shower, 'Are your black trousers to be packed?'

'No,' she said. 'I'm gonna wear them now.'

He came back to the bedroom and sat down on a sofa. Again, his eyes stopped on the pants. He stood up, took them, lowered the sleeves so that they touched the floor, and lifted his arm holding the upper edge of the garment. When the trousers straightened up, he turned to the mirror. He saw himself standing next to a black stripe of fabric that stretched all the way up from the floor to his nose - that was the point where the belt line was. The crotch of the trousers was at the level of his chest. He thought a little and lifted them couple of inch higher: Breta would never wear them barefoot. He looked at the mirror again; now in addition to himself and the piece of cloth he saw two legs of matching length. Further up - just above hips - was his white bathrobe. He turned around.

'I didn't hear you coming,' he said in ashamed voice.

'I can see that,' Breta smiled down at him. 'What are you doing here? Gonna borrow my trousers for a banquet? I think, you'd better drink and eat as much as you can before you go then.'

'Why?'

'Otherwise you're risk staying sober and hungry. You won't be able to put anything into your mouth: it'll be covered by fabric.' She laughed, kneeled down and hugged him. 'Honestly, they seem to be a little big for you, but I wouldn't mind you try.'

She was so close, so fresh after bath, and her hair smelled lavender and honey and something else, her eyes were so playful and inviting - he just couldn't stand that anymore. He ripped the robe open, pulled her closer and found her lips with his own. She was only a shade taller than him now, so it was enough for him just to rise on his tiptoes.

'May I at least have my toys on?' protested Breta. 'I'm gonna miss them so much!'

'Are you sure we have enough time?' Robin, too, would love her to wear the platform boots.

'Trains to Bristol depart every hour, darling. And you meanwhile go to kitchen and make us an afterlove tea, will you?'

In no time she came into kitchen too.

'I've got the idea, honey,' she said as she made her pace through the doorway - folding by half, as usual. 'How about sex on the fridge?'

'In the fridge?'

'No, on the fridge! Look, I'm leaning on it, and you'll take me from behind. Isn't it bright?' And immediately she demonstrated exactly what she meant. Even before his bathrobe was way too short for her; now, when she bent down and put her elbows on his 7 feet high refrigerator, it looked more like a top on her body, but Robin couldn't see it anyway.

'Very good,' he scratched his head looking up at the tempting peach of her round bum. 'How do I suppose to get up there?'

'Not my problem, sweetie. I made my step, now it's your turn to think! And don't be long, we're gonna miss the train!'

'All right then, I'll be back in a minute,' and he stormed out - to a cupboard where since the flat redecoration he kept a ladder...