Acting 101 Ch 05 Christmas Lights

I still have not finalized how many entries there will be in this series, but we are somewhere over halfway to the end. This chapter is fun on its own, but to understand what is happening beneath the surface, I really recommend new readers start with Chapter One.

As with all my stories, should you be looking for 'Realism', just move on. I aim for 'Ridiculously Plausible'.

And thanks for all the views, favorites, follows and the high ratings so far. I appreciate your keeping up with the tale, and I'd love your comments too!

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I stood in my dorm room and fretted about what to wear for my date with Meredith. We would be outside walking around, so I needed comfortable clothes. Meredith evidently liked a trim silhouette on a guy, so baggy clothes were out. However, hanging around Meredith meant that... well, erections tended to happen. While this could be awesome under the right circumstances, I didn't want to be embarrassed in public.

Atlanta was heading into an unusually hot spell of Indian Summer, especially unusual, given that we had reached early December, and I was excited to be able to wear a short-sleeved shirt. I settled swiftly on a brightly patterned cotton pull-over. It was comfortably and flatteringly tight over my broad shoulders, and the sleeves clung to my biceps in such a way as to give the impression that my 'guns' were of a higher caliber than they actually were. The best part was that it had a loose shirttail that wasn't meant to be tucked in. It wasn't long enough to completely conceal any ill-timed bulges, but it would at least reduce their visibility.

I considered wearing the trim pair of linen trousers I liked so much, but they were too tight around the groin, and anyway, we would be outside and they showed dirt. Finally, I settled on my new pair of black jeans. They fit very well, and the thick, tough fabric meant that a hard-on would standout less. I shook my head at how good my life was, in that I had to spend time worrying about people seeing all the erections I was having. Having lots of erections can be torture, of course. But having lots of erections that you get to

use

is... well, I highly recommend it.

I pulled up at Meredith's home and rang the doorbell right as the sun was setting. She answered the door herself and we shared a quick peck on the lips as she ushered me inside. As I entered, I realized that, while it was cooling down a little outside, it was still hot enough to actually feel the comfortable caress of air-conditioning as I walked inside.

"So, where are you taking me?" asked Meredith immediately. "I tried to get it out of Stephanie at lunch today, but she wasn't telling." That was because I hadn't told Steff. She talked

way

too much to her (ex)step-mother for my comfort anyway. I looked around for the gorgeous tattletale in question.

"I haven't the vaguest idea where she has gone off to," said Meredith in response to my searching gaze. "I noticed sometime this afternoon that she had ghosted me, and I haven't heard from her since."

Relieved that I would not have to deal with the two of them at once, I turned to really take in Meredith. As usual, I froze a little when first really looking at her. I'd resolved to stop trying to hide it, since she really seemed to enjoy people (or at least me) gawping at her. As if to reinforce that impression, Meredith smiled brightly and spun around once. "How's this guess on what I should wear?" she asked confidently.

Her naturally golden blonde hair waved around her quirky, beautiful face in its usual curves, though the do was subtly different from what I'd seen before, as if she had asked her hair to, "wave casually." She wore a soft, white, cotton t-shirt with a beautiful collection of variously colored flowers hand-painted across the front and down around one side. The neck was wide, and it hung slightly off to the other side, giving a glimpse of an emerald green bra strap. For a thirty-five year-old woman who could, and habitually did, go bra-less, that strap just seemed like a subtle statement. She sported a sleek, perfectly fitted pair of pale blue jeans that proclaimed to the world just how slender her waist, flared her hips, rich her ass, and incredibly long her legs were. On her feet, she wore a pair of, I shit you not, blue canvas KEDS. She looked exactly like what she was--a stunning, natural beauty.

"Damn, Meredith," I breathed. "I swear, if you wore a Hefty bag, people would compliment you on your couture little back dress."

She actually giggled a little at that and replied, "Thank you. I'm GLAD I pass muster." I groaned at the crack. Apparently we were at the point where we could make garbage bag jokes with each other. "And let the record show," Meredith went on, suddenly in her courtroom voice, "that the witness is pretty tastily... I mean tastefully dressed himself." I smiled in return and she went on sternly. "Now Your Honor, would you please instruct the witness to

finally

tell the court where in the Hell we are going this evening?"

I grimaced and replied, "I've probably overblown your expectations with all my secrecy! Sorry. I thought that we could go take a walk at the Botanical Gardens and check out the Christmas lights." I shrugged a little. I needn't have.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Meredith, actually clapping her hands. "I haven't been in years, and I always loved it."

"Shall we then?" I asked, ushering her a step toward the front door.

"Absolutely," replied Meredith but made no move toward my car. "But I think I will drive tonight."

"Uh, excuse me?" I asked, bemused.

She smirked a bit at me. "Much as I love the Tesla Experience," she said, mocking my admitted obsession with my car, "a gorgeous night like this calls for something your car isn't: a convertible." I bowed at that hesitantly, not wanting to admit any fault in my baby. "Come now, Scott," Meredith cooed at me over her shoulder as she started toward the garage, "don't you want to go riding topless with me?"

Meredith's Mercedes 500SL (AMG version) was indeed a very sweet ride. The top was already down and we hopped in. I realized that I had forgotten how pleasing engine noise could be as the car purred out of the garage under Meredith's direction. When we reached the Interstate, she really let it out and we literally roared smoothly down the massive multi-lane highway, wind blowing in our hair with gay abandon....

Until we hit the stupid late rush hour traffic in about two miles and groaned down to a miserable fifty miles an hour the rest of the way. But we spent that time laughing about the drive that might have been.

The entrance to the Botanical Gardens always seems a little overgrown to me, but it was beautifully lit that night as we passed in and down the narrow entrance lane. The glow of millions of lights appeared ahead of us as we drew up to the valet station. The three young dudes waiting at the little kiosk to park arriving cars seemed torn over which to drool over more, the Benz or the driver. I didn't blame them for feeling the dilemma, but for my money, the answer was clearly the driver.

I had never been to the gardens for the Christmas lights before, and as she had said, it had been years for Meredith. They had upped their game since she had last been there for the holidays, and we both gasped repeatedly in wonder at our glorious surroundings. Groves of trees were encrusted in light blue fairy lights. Rainbow tunnels of light had been constructed between areas of the grounds, each one feeling like a Tunnel of Love. One garden was such a sea of clashing ethereal blue and green that it looked like a scene from that movie Avatar.

There is a giant topiary sculpture of a dryad's head with long, flowing waves of hair that is a real showpiece of the gardens. I remembered that it had actually turned me on a little bit on my last visit, back when I was just hitting puberty. It was re-christened The Ice Goddess for the duration of the Christmas season, and her 'hair' was illuminated with waves of blue and white lights.

I stared at the topiary and murmured, "Damn! She is hot all over again." Meredith just laughed, wrapped her arms around one of mine, and laid her head on my shoulder as we stared at the installation. In flats, she was actually an inch or so shorter than me, and I honestly found that a little weird.

Almost immediately upon arrival, we had found someone selling wine and we walked the grounds, each with glasses of chardonnay. We were always holding hands, or linking elbows as we drifted from one area to the next. Our conversation was quiet but continuous, always centered on the exhibits we encountered but drifting off from each thing we saw to related matters.

The only bummer was that the good weather had brought out quite the freaking crowd. Dark nooks or quiet spots devoid enough of people for me to pull Meredith to me and kiss her softly were few and far between, though I looked for every one I could find. And we never were alone enough for me to even think of copping a feel, though Meredith did have the guts to grab my ass once when we turned away from looking up at a tree that was dripping in animated icicles.

It wasn't like we were pressed in by people, but there was always someone looking. In fact, given the beauty I was walking with, there were always

lots

of people looking, mostly men. It would have been a little intimidating, but I caught a few ladies looking in my direction as well. It pays to dress well, guys. Despite being gawked at, it was nice not to be constantly feeling judged. The darkness of the night and indistinct glow of all the lights did a lot to hide the age difference between me and Meredith.

When we at last found ourselves back near the entrance, we both poured over the map, looking for any area we might have missed, both disappointed that we had exhausted the extent of the place. Then I looked at my watch and realized that we had been there two and a half hours!

"I wish I could take credit for knowing how beautiful this was going to be, Meredith," I said with a wry smile, "but this was so much better than I'd even hoped."

Meredith just snuggled up against my side and chided me sweetly, "Never let on that you didn't intend a magical moment, Scott. I loved it too." We stole another kiss, this one lingering and right out in the open, among the crowd. "Now, what do you have planned for dinner?" she asked briskly, stepping over toward the valets.

"Well," I said as we walked, "this wasn't my original idea... but if your tummy is still feeling delicate from your wild women's debauchery last night, there is a lovely Italian place..."

"I am fine," replied Meredith easily but firmly. "Tip-top and Bristol fashion. Honestly, I contained myself, mostly, last night. I just wanted to play up the negative consequences of heavy drinking for my twenty-one year-old... roommate."

"Oh

really

?" I drawled. "Your voice sounded neither tip-top nor Bristol, or indeed any other city, fashion on the phone this morning."

"I was playing up the hangover, not inventing one," admitted Meredith. "But my stomach is truly one hundred percent."

"Well, then," I said, springing my trap, "I say we get in the car and head over to the Varsity!"

The Varsity is a landmark fast food place and drive-in in mid-town Atlanta, just across the interstate from Georgia Tech. It is huge, garishly lit, and serves legendarily greasy burgers, hot dogs, fries and onion rings, all of which are surprisingly delicious. It is tacky, obstreperous, crowded, and An Institution. I had chosen it because it was the least Meredith Chisholm kind of place to eat that I could imagine, and I wanted to see her off-balance for once.

"The Varsity!?" Meredith laughed. "I haven't been in years, but what a great idea. I used to go every time I came to Atlanta when I was a teenager." Curses. Foiled again.

She handed her ticket to the valet, who seemed as bemused by her enthusiasm for the Varsity as I was. He dashed off for her car.

We were momentarily alone, as all the valets were off elsewhere, and I kissed her again, thoroughly this time. Tongues danced together and we pressed our bodies again each other... then sprang apart casually as we heard a family approaching behind us, the voices of little girls chattering in the night.

Meredith's Benz purred up to a stop before us. I went around to the passenger side and I watched the dad of the family who had just arrived watch intently as Meredith folded her long, limber, tightly-clad legs into the car. The valet slid her door closed and Meredith handed him several bills. With a tinkle of gravel, we shot off into the night.

The Varsity was only a short distance, but a long, traffic-filled drive away, and it took us a while to get there. At the counter, we both ordered swiftly and surely and were soon seated at a small, linoleum-topped table, enjoying our greasy, bad for us, unreasonably tasty meal. I had a burger and fries, while Meredith had chosen a chili dog and onion rings. I got a look at the rings and jealously wished I'd gone that way too. We both had a signature Frosted Orange shake.

I soon realized that Meredith had chosen the chili dog to torment me, because watching her delicately, but still messily, devour that phallic meal had me staring at her more than eating. Her lopsided grin whenever she chewed told me she was well aware of how enraptured I was, too. I kept expecting her to get chili all over her shirt. I even found myself fantasizing about her whipping it off over her head in disgust, right there in the Varsity. Of course, that certainly did not happen, because of course Meredith could eat an entire, overloaded chili dog without getting a drop of it on her clothes, even though she got plenty all over her face. The way she would wipe the mess from her face with her napkin, or much better yet, lick it from around her lips, just about made up for my messy shirt fantasies being dashed.

All that said, the Varsity is not the place for lingering over a romantic meal, and we finished pretty quickly. We wandered through the echoing parking deck, trying to find Meredith's car, and she asked casually, "Do you have any other surprises up your sleeve, Scott? Or can I head us back to my place once we find the damned Mercedes?"

"Well, I am indeed out of plans, so if you insist..." I muttered, and we shared a brief glance filled with promise and a little hunger.

So, of course we had gotten the level wrong and took twenty minutes to find the car. Meredith even checked its location on GPS to make sure it hadn't been stolen, but find it eventually, we did. The powerful engine of the convertible growled loudly in the garage space as we pulled out. Even the car sounded a bit hungry as Meredith turned off the surface streets and shot loudly onto the now mostly uncrowded northbound freeway. I have to admit I woo-hooed loudly into the night, my voice carried away as the car shot forward on the road, accelerating rapidly until we were the fastest car in sight. Meredith kept the pedal down until we reached a stretch where the road was crowded enough that she would have had to weave to keep up the pace and she dropped the speed back to settle in with the flow of the now free-flowing traffic. Still, it was Atlanta, so the cars were all tooling along at about twenty miles an hour over the limit anyway.

Meredith slid the car expertly into the garage, and we sauntered into the house. Steff's car was still missing from the next bay over, so I assumed she was still out. It surprised me when Meredith called out loudly, "Stephanie?" when we entered, but she obviously wasn't there. I wasn't going to waste any mental energy on the absent Steff anyway, so I moved behind Meredith. Satisfied that Steff would not answer her, Meredith turned around and nearly jumped at how close behind her I was. I pulled her regal form against me and I kissed her as thoroughly and enthusiastically as I could manage. When our tongues finally departed for their own digs and our lips separated, I could see in Meredith's suddenly flushed face that my efforts had been appreciated.

Then something squeaked in the house. It was nothing, just one of the random sounds a house makes, but it clearly startled Meredith. She shook her head with a wry grin "That sneaky, competitive little bitch," she remarked good-naturedly.

"I do not understand," I said, because I did not understand.

"That's why she ghosted this afternoon," explained Meredith, something akin to admiration in her voice. "That way, I couldn't ask her where she was going, and more importantly, when she planned on returning." Her always alluringly lopsided mouth was currently half grinning, and half grimacing. "Now wherever she is, she knows that she is in my head, distracting me with thoughts about her returning at any minute."

"You are probably right and about her wanting to be in your head," I said, not letting go of her, "because she is certainly capable of being extremely devious and manipulative if it suits her sense of humor...."

"Or her competitive instincts," interrupted Meredith.

"But she is not coming home any time soon and you know it," I overrode her. "She won't be back until very late, and probably not until tomorrow. And she'll call before she arrives." I kissed Meredith lightly. "She will do that because, despite being sly, cunning, competitive, and a bit fiendish, Steff is awesome. And you know it."

Meredith just looked at me with the same expression, "All true. But her plan is still working."

I looked at Meredith with a mock somber expression. "Then I guess we will have to pass on what I had in mind...."

That caught Meredith's attention like I hoped it would. "What did you have in mind?" she purred, still distracted, but clearly trying to try to let go of her grumpy fretting.

"Well," I said, "I was

going

to take off all your clothes except that green bra that I've been wanting to get a look at all night..." I reached down and opened the snap atop her deliciously tight jeans. As I tugged at her zipper as slowly as I could manage and still make it move, I continued, "Then I was going to carry you over to that couch, drop you on it, spread your glorious knees, sink to my own, and absolutely devour your vagina until you collapse in to a bundle of exhausted, jangling nerve endings."

Meredith flushed again at this. She looked over her shoulder at the indicated couch. I knew she was teasing me with that longing look. Then she turned back to me and whipped off her shirt! The green bra was worth the wait. It cupped her generous, firm breasts in sheer, emerald, satin embrace, doing little more than lift gently, while smoothing out slightly the eager protrusions of her nipples, visibly erect through the sheer covering. She looked down at her jeans, then challengingly at me.

My hands had frozen on her zipper, shocked into paralysis when she went ahead and started stripping out here in the great room, but her challenging stare spurred me back into action. I tugged the fly open and began to slide her jeans down, with some difficulty I'll admit, since they were so tight. Meredith easily slipped her feet free of the sneakers, then wriggled her hips to help me pull the jeans off of her. It was work to get those jeans all the way off her fabulously long gams, but worth the effort. In moments, besides the bra, all she had on was a matching green pair of very small panties that not so much covered her nethers as screamed, "Here they are!" Cute, they might have been, but they had to go. Right away.

Then, as promised, I lifted Meredith in my arms. (That was no easy feat. The woman is gorgeous, but as tall as I.) I carried her to the couch and plopped her down. She grinned up at me as I lifted a shin and used it to slowly pushed first one of her knees, then the other, out wide. Then I knelt and shook my head in delight at the feast spread before me. I dipped down and inhaled ostentatiously, but I also reveled at the soft aroma of excitement I scented. I began to kiss her inner thighs, belly, and occasionally her labia, never letting my lips land anywhere firmly or for very long.