Chapter 5 Part one/ Lunch
The next morning when Ben knocked for Pat she was ready to go.
“What’s in the carrying tube?” she enquired.
“Oh just something I promised someone I’d give them today,” he answered and quickly changed the subject. On the way to Hampstead station, Ben said, “I thought we would take the train two stops to Chalk Farm and get off there so we can walk down the road towards Camden Town.”
At that time in the morning, the train was busy and so they had to stand. Unfortunately, at their stop, the train lurched rather suddenly to a standstill sending Pat, who had let go of her hand hold in anticipation of getting off, flying. She only saved herself from falling hard on her bottom by grabbing at Ben’s body or rather one of the holes in his jeans. As she sat down there was a ripping sound.
OMG Pat thought as she sat there looking up at what she had done, the hole now extended downwards exposing Ben’s underpants and to Pat’s surprise the outline of his cock now showed through the fabric. Just for a brief second she fought the urge to touch it. Instead she started laughing to hide her embarrassment.
They were still laughing about her sitting on her bottom as they came out of the station.
Ben who was well aware of the tear desperately looked around to take his mind of his hardening cock.
Pat also aware of what was happening to Ben down there couldn’t help but wonder was he bisexual or was it just an embarrassing reaction.
Ben at last spotted an ice-cream parlour across the road. “That place over there,” he said pointing, “has the best tasting lemon sherbet in the whole world.”
“Well it certainly has an interesting sign,” Pat replied, while taking a snapshot with her camera phone. As they walked further along the street, Ben pointed out more shop signs. Pat was really surprised at how elaborate they were and snapped them all.
When they reached the market made up of a lot of garden shed like structures with painted pictures on their doors, Pat flipped. “Oh my god this is incredible!” She screamed.
“Yes, it’s only recently been done. Most tourists don’t know about it yet, otherwise there’d be crowds of them around by now. You realise that when the various businesses are open the painted doors are no longer exposed. I’d get snapping if I were you,” Ben suggested to Pat.
“Hi Ben,” a voice called out from one of the now open stalls, “I see you’ve brought them.”
“Hi Alex, you didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” He said this while handing over the carrying tube, in exchange Alex noticing the tear in Ben jeans handed him a couple of sticking plasters.
Ben said, “Thanks,” and taped the torn fabric together.
Just then Pat arrived, “Hello, I’m Pat,” she said, introducing herself.
“She’s Jerry’s sister,” Ben informed Alex quickly.
“Nice to meet you,” Alex said, giving her a smile and a nod. Then turning back to Ben asked, “Where’s Matt.”
“Somewhere under the sea protecting us,” Ben replied.
Alex handed Ben a list of photos he had already presold, adding that he needed delivery of them urgently. As they moved away from Alex’s stall, Pat demanded to know what that was all about. Ben reluctantly explained as they walked, that he supplied Alex with his photo pictures, as she called them. Alex would frame them and then sell them on as a complete package. They eventually arrived at a stall situated just under the railway bridge that spanned the main high street. It had a big sign above it advertising, ‘Crepes, Donuts, Waffles’. Pat had a good laugh when Ben told her this was where he was working today and that he would see her in two hours when he would cook her lunch.
Pat walked around taking snap after snap and soon found that two hours had whizzed by before she knew it. When she got back to Ben’s stall, she had to join a long queue.
While she waited her turn to be served, Pat took quite a few photos of Ben. Unfortunately he now wore an apron hiding the tear and what lay beneath it. Yet as he moved around skilfully cooking several crepes using the circular hot plate, she was able to take photos of his tight butt or arse as he would call it.
By the time Pat reached the front of the queue, she was hungry. For both food and sex
Up until then she had only thought of Ben as a younger brother but after the train incident and seeing his body’s reaction afterwards. She now wondered what it would be like to bed him.
Pat sat at the back of the stall and while she ate the super duper crepe with all the trimmings Ben had made for her. She showed him the snaps she had taken with her camera phone, all except for the ones she had just taken of his butt.
Ben asked her to stop at one photo depicting a mad hatter’s tea party. The scene could almost have come from the Alice in Wonderland storybook. There were two men standing behind a table loaded with crockery, one was dressed as the mad hatter and the other was similarly dressed but had big white feathers representing the ears of a rabbit sprouting from his hat. To crown it all he was holding a big clock sized watch.
Ben started to laugh and asked her to enlarge the picture on the screen to show their faces.
Ben exclaimed, “Yes I thought so, its Trevor.”
“Trevor who?” Pat asked. Then the penny dropped, “He’s not that nude guy in the photo in your portfolio is he?” Pat asked in amazement.
“He certainly is.” Ben laughing assured her as he returned to his cooking.