¬Maurice, my roommate, had been wearing out my ears with his yearning for Abigail ever since he had been introduced to her while trying out for the marching band, he in the brass section and she with her flute. He swore blind it was her personality that entranced him, even when I pointed out that Abi’s splendid pair of tits might have entered into the equation. Now he’d plucked up the courage to ask her out, he’d begged me to provide transport to a movie. I was well aware that my presence was really to ride shotgun, to make sure his nerve didn’t fail. I’d expected to be a complete gooseberry while Maurice got on with wooing Abigail, but now it seemed that Abigail was able to supply the common sense so lacking in Maurice, because she’d told him she’d bring a friend with her.
Maurice was still dithering about which aftershave to use, so we were late setting off and it was getting dark when I pulled into a parking space a little way along from the girls’ apartment block. We got out of the car as two figures emerged from the building. The smaller one had to be Abigail, whom I’d met. She was tiny and almost waif-like. The other girl was slim and taller than average. So far, so nice. Once she got to within range of the street lighting, though, my eyes almost popped out. Bright orange hair gelled up into spikes crowned Abi’s companion. Vast harem pants ballooned around her legs, teamed with a ragged black tee shirt. Over that, she was wearing a leather biker jacket with U2 in studs on the left front. I was about to crack a lame joke that I didn’t think that Irish bands marched, when I noticed the other side of the jacket had a matching capital F. FU2. F… you, too, I thought. I braced myself for an uncomfortable evening. Maurice leapt to greet his beloved as they approached the car. The other girl came round to where I was standing by the driver’s door.
“Hello. I assume you’re Pete? I’m Penny,” Miss Bad-Attitude said, in a voice like melting chocolate and with the most beautiful smile I had seen in a lifetime,
“Marching band, too?” I croaked, rapidly adjusting my preconceptions.
“Not a hope. Tone-deaf. I’m in the swim team, though. I dive, springboard.” Penny corrected my guess, “I’m on the tennis team, too, but only for doubles.”
“Wow. Multi-talented,” I commented, still trying to reconcile the appearance with the voice. I play tennis, but not to that sort of standard, so I didn’t mention it. Penny turned her head away from where Maurice was busting a gut in his efforts to impress Abigail with his prowess in Dungeons and Dragons. “He’s trying too hard,” she murmured to me. “Tell him he can relax. Abi really likes him.”
“Will do. I seem to have been voted in as Maurice’s counsellor. He’s my roommate. Abigail is your friend?”
“My roommate, but she’s become a friend. She’s another one who needs a mentor as much as a friend. Her life so far has been nothing but school books and classical music, from what she tells me. I had to push her all the way to the band trials. Maurice’s invite to a movie reduced her to a quivering jelly. As I was getting ready, she told me she’s already decided Maurice is the one.”
“Really? That’s fast work,” I said.
“Don’t let the little girl lost act fool you. Abi has determination like steel, once she’s made up her mind.”
“I’m pretty sure Maurice will be happy with someone like that. He’s a star in his own little world, but everyday things are not his strong point. Witness the film he’s chosen.”
“Die Hard 2 wouldn’t have been my pick for a first date,” Penny said. “Maurice is hardly Bruce Willis, is he?” she giggled.
“He’s more Bill Gates. IT wizard and almost as likely to be rich, unlike me.”
“I see.”
I smiled. Many a blind date has started less well. Penny seemed cool with the role that she and I had been selected to play. It was a big change from the girl with whom I had recently broken up. Fiona might have looked more conventionally attractive, but she had been brash and very loud, especially when drunk. Exciting for a while, but wearing in the longer term. Penny was much more relaxing to be with and easy on the eye, too, once I’d got used to the trimmings.
We’d been sitting in the dark for maybe twenty minutes when my knee, by accident I swear, nudged Penny’s. I was surprised when she returned the pressure. I’d been on the point of apologising. Her hand came over to grip mine, then took it back so it was resting on her thighs. She turned towards me.
“I like you,” she murmured.
“You’re nice, too,” I said. Dazzling repartee didn’t seem to be the order of the day.
“After the movie, how about you and I go for a drive?” Penny asked.
“Sure. Do I drop off Maurice and Abigail first?” I asked, tentatively.
“That would be good.”

We didn’t make the drive. Abigail took one look at Penny and me and announced that she would walk Maurice back to the campus. Penny and I went back to my car, which luckily was in a dark corner of the parking lot and without a word, met up in the back seat, by what seemed mutual consent and telepathy. There isn’t a lot of space in an elderly Honda Civic. I liked it that Penny giggled as we went through the contortions of getting enough clothes off to make a start on sexual exploration. Fortunately, Penny’s harem pants had an elasticated waist. Her panties slid down and off with them. I gave Penny the benefit of what I’d learned from Fiona, for whom a good licking was the indispensable prelude to penetration. I had to find my way through a thicket of pubic hair, but Penny’s reaction was well worth the effort. She made appreciative noises and shortly leaned over and returned the compliment. Fiona had been less keen to suck my cock, so I was in no position to rate Penny’s technique, but she had me on edge for what felt like an eternity. At the crucial moment, she straddled me and we had the most amazing fuck. I’d thought I was on the point of coming, but I lasted for long enough to make it all worthwhile.
Penny climbed out of the car naked from the waist down and squatted to let my offering drip out of her. I didn’t look, feeling that we weren’t on those sort of terms yet.
“Pete, can you pass me my knickers so I can mop up?” Penny said after a moment
“Your what?”
“Oh, all right, then. My panties, if you must.” The sarcastic emphasis on the word left me puzzled. I did as ordered. Penny gave herself a perfunctory wipe and got back into the car.
“Panties,” she explained as she stuffed the soggy cottons into a pocket, “are either what I wore age five or what dirty old men call women’s underwear,”
“Okay, but knickers? What kind of word is that?”
“My dad’s Air Force. When I was fourteen he was posted to a base in England. I went to an English school for two years. One day of having the other girls in my class in hysterics over my accent when I said panties and I haven’t used the word since. And this,” Penny demonstrated by pulling her sweater off over her head, “is a jumper.”
“I don’t care what you call them,” I told her, unclipping her bra and nuzzling up to a very neat pair of tits. “Knickers and jumper sounds fine to me.”
We talked and explored each other some more and I discovered that she didn’t shave her underarms either, She smelt warm and sexy. Eventually, we got cold and I drove her back to her place. We had several more dates and some very enjoyable sex, but then Penny drifted away from me, claiming pressure of work. I made attempts to bring it back together, but somehow she was never available when I suggested a date. I had no idea whether I’d done something wrong or if she’d met someone else.

Most of the events I’m going to tell about date from a little time ago. I’ve tried to convey the tone and content of the dialogue. It may not have been said quite like that, though. Hey, I’m a writer!