The walk back home was a total downer for Trano. The arrival of the library clerk had totally ruined the mood when things were starting to get interesting. The little guy was clearly rattled by the rather hasty way she had swept him off the table into her lap, and was careful to cover what he had flaunted before, ever since. Now that she was on the way, she was running in her mind scenarios of all the things she might have said or done to cajole Paat-shoh to play along the decidedly steamy course of action that had started to burgeon in her mind as soon as she both made the little guy lay bare before her and herself agreed and dared to expose her chest in a very exciting game of tit-for-tat. What a waste!

Besides, her feet hurt as hell.

And now that her block came into view, the realization that she would have to give up the little guy to her friend Tloche came with a jumble of conflicting emotions. First, she wanted to spend more time with a guy that clearly had his uses. Second, she was clearly frustrated as she now realized she had gotten really aroused by the antics she allowed herself with the little man, and after walking all this way, her nipples still tingled with desire, which still had not cooled off and craved stimulation and release.

This made the third point more poignant, as she was feeling rather guilty of messing with a man that her friend was clearly interested in. Despite Paat-shoh rather modest remarks, now that she thought about it, Trano now saw that these last weeks, her pale brunette friend had displayed all the telltale signs of unrequited love: listlessness, red eyes, bags under her eyes, avoidance… all completely out of character for the usually hyperactive, focused and tireless Tloche.

It was also clear Paat-shoh was not immune to Tloche’s Charms, despite his words, as he steadfastly refused to let himself be touched by Trano in anything but practical ways, and as she tried to rekindle the sexy ambiance that had been so untimely interrupted by suggesting, only half-jokingly, that she could carry him back home in her cleavage behind her buttoned blouse, but the attempt had fallen flat and he politely, but firmly refused to be conveyed thus, and so Trano had to settle to carry him in her fist, as before, which was less than ideal, more so as his legs were out; walking without moving her left hand was very awkward, especially with the wooden clogs she was wearing.

Her left hand was even more sweaty than before on the way to the library, and now it was even itchy. Judging by his squirming and fidgeting, she suspected it was far more uncomfortable for him, and she felt unreasonably mad at Paat-shoh for refusing her, and she felt bad for being mad, which doubly soured her mood, knowing she was in the wrong. More so as she even briefly entertained the notion of having his way with the guy regardless of his refusal, counting on her womanly wiles to win him over and make him play along willingly in time, an idea that was quickly but reluctantly abandoned as it was a slippery slope into being a sexual offender.

Trano had never let herself get into in such a position, always giving a wide berth to her pals’ boyfriends no matter how interesting or hot (or willing) they were… what if he tells Tloche? Fourth, she was fully aware of the fact that they were on the short list of harassment by the police, which was never a good place to be.

It was amidst this muddle of feelings and thoughts that she made it to the boarding house far earlier than she desired, except for her poor feet, which were screaming bloody murder right now. She found the chief, Miss Taborda, on her knees besides the entrance, busily scrubbing the floor, a bucket beside her. Trano put her hands behind her back to conceal her passenger and greeted her:

“Hello Miss Taborda… just wondering if the emergency has passed…”

“Oh, hello Trano! Yes, the fire department disconnected the alarm and left. False distress signal, it seems, maybe a malfunction. We nearly had another emergency, though”.

“How so? What happened?”

“You should see your friend Tloche. Astaizario, other three girls and I had to carry her to her room after she fainted on us. Good thing Astaizario is a goalie, as she barely managed to keep Tloche from hitting her head on the floor… she dropped like a puppet after cutting its strings… it was so sudden!”

“By the Gods! Is she OK????”

“Yes, yes, she came to her senses after a few minutes”

“Was… was she sick, or injured in the panic?” Said Trano, now thinking it had been a mistake to abandon her friends… had they been beaten or drugged?

“Does not seem like it. However, she was rattled, because she just walked by, saw a little bloodstain on the floor and just dropped like a rock… if she’s going to be woozy every time she sees blood, don’t know what kind of a medic is she going to be…”. Said the chief, shaking her head. “Anyway, something is going on, as she would not answer any of our questions and just rolled on her cot facing the wall and kept weeping very wretchedly, begging us to let her alone. Jablo was also weepy and in no mood to be of any help with Tloche. Go see her and maybe she will talk to you. She’s been paler than usual, so maybe an exaggerated diet, but I rather suspect breeks are mixed in this, they usually at the center of most drama with you girls”, concluded Miss Taborda with all the self-assurance of someone who had never had ANY kind of involvement with males, for good or ill. Trano left her and went hurriedly to see Tloche.

Soon she was in front of Tloche’s room, and as she lifted her right hand to knock, she paused, feeling between the fingers of her left hand the warmth and almost negligible weight of the incredibly delicate and soft body of the little extra-Lurian. Before she could have even more second thoughts, and the wrong ones to boot, she knocked on the door.

Nothing.

Then she knocked again, harder, using her mixed emotions to raise her voice as she said:

“Tloche, it’s me, Trano. It is in your best interest to open this door now, but make yourself presentable, because I’ve got the patrollers here with me, and they are not happy”.

That did the trick, as there was a rustle of clothes, moving of furniture and then a wide, red-rimmed eyed Tloche warily opened the door. After looking around and seeing no policemen, she looked at Trano, not amused. Fisotrano waited until Cantlutloche’s lips parted to snap at her, and then brought her hands from behind her back. The brunette’s jaw dropped as she saw, on Trano’s joined, upturned palms, was Pacho, sitting there naked, hair all tousled and looking up at her, concerned. Before Trano had time to react, Tloche’s hands had already scooped him and she pressed the small being against her bosom, eyes squeezed shut and head lowered, squeezing him there so hard Trano was going to protest for the little guy’s safety when just as suddenly, Tloche asked:

“How…I thought you said…” But Trano, reddening, interrupted her:

“Never mind. Just don’t lose it again” She found herself in no mood for explanations. “Just don’t lose him again, Cantutloche, next time you might not get him back” … although not for the reasons you’d think… I might keep him for myself. Trano wheeled on her heels and left for her own room as she kicked her clogs off her feet in irritation.

Tloche nodded, and without another word, retreated and, the little man still pressed against her breast with her free hand, closed the door with the other.