Grecian Tales Part I: What happens in Hutland ..

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We’ve been getting to know each other my hutmate (HM) and I think it’s safe to say we’ve reached a stage where all bets are off.

We started cautiously.  Furtive dressing and undressing, polite goodnights, thoughtful noiseless awakenings, and the use of a torch or phone after lights out.

It was a challenge keeping up with all the discreet disrobing. “Oh, just so you know, I’m not actually that modest” I ventured to my fellow bamboo shack lover after a particularly difficult morning of contortions. “I went to an all girls school, you sort of get used to walking around naked.”

HM looked at me and paused.  “Yes” she said slowly.  “I think it’s fine as long as there’s not a lot of, you know, bending over.”

Rolling in two nights later a little worse for the rose, and over excited from the trip to Skyros beach and town, time had been called on my sense of decorum.  Fiddling with the latch I eventually flung the door open wide so my companion could appreciate the stars, and flicked on the light switch.

“I got you an extra pillow from the office” came a sleepy voice from the depths of the deep blue sheets.
“Thanks!” I said throwing my dress to the floor and kicking off my shoes as I proceeded to relate the day’s shenanigans.

HM propped herself up on one elbow, inadvertently exposing her left breast. ‘Oooh’ she said, and ‘Ahhh’. “Tell me more – you’re making me feel like I missed out!”
I bent over to pick up my discarded clothes.  “Not at all” I said, “You got a lift to the beach after all – it doesn’t get much better than that.”

Eventually, seated on the side of the mosquito net, I rested my weary bones. “I’ll turn the light off in a second” I said, “But I think you should know I had fava beans for dinner and I’m not sure they’ve agreed with me.”
“Oh dear” said HM, lying back down.

Finally there was darkness.  Just the sound of the occasional nocturnal Cicada, the scratching feet of a goldfinch on the roof and that weird unidentifiable noise that sounds like someone approaching in flip flops.

My companion began to snore lightly.  Drozily I offered: “By the way I got you a present in Skyros.”
“What?” she murmured.
I repeated myself.
“You thought of me on that trip?” she replied, “I’m so touched.”
“Don’t mention it” I said as the fava beans got the better of me, “I’ll give it to you in the morning” and gently wafted the sheet to share the love.

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