IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law 
to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do 
something else.

This material is Copyright, 2003, Uther Pendragon.  All rights 
reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading and 
keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as 
this notice is included.  Reposting requires previous permission.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as 
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination 
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly 
coincidental.


                           #  #  #  #
                           HEART BALL 
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com


Part 13:
Continued from Part 12 and concluded.
 

Steve kissed Shannon again.  After all, that's what they'd 
gone to all this trouble to get.  He hugged her to him by her 
butt.  As the kiss went on, he raised his hands up her back under 
her sweatshirt.  She shivered. 

He dropped his hands and held her butt again for a moment.  
When he raised his hands the next time, they were outside her 
sweatshirt and in front. 

She put both hands on his face and held it while her tongue 
entered his mouth.  "Why don't you wash your hands again?" she 
asked.  Good idea.  He kissed her on the nose and went into the 
bathroom.  He used the facilities.  (She'd been right -- his hand 
was cold.) Then he washed his hands thoroughly under water as hot 
as he could stand. 

He left the bathroom light on and went around the room closing 
the drapes.  The light from the bathroom -- the light through the 
drapes, for that matter -- was quite enough.  Still, when he was 
done the room afforded a little more privacy.  Shannon thought it 
looked a little like a cave. 

When he came back to her, he held her face for a deep kiss.  
"Better?" he asked. 

"Your kisses still give me goosebumps." 

"You're sweet.  Silly, but sweet." 

"That's my line," she said.  "Brosna?" 

"Did you look it up?" 

"Sure.  It's a river." 

"A river," he pointed out, "that flows into the Shannon river.  
Logically, I should have used something which flows out of the 
Shannon river, but -- even for a fantasy -- I couldn't see naming 
a kid 'Atlantic.'" 

"I'm glad you have some limits." She was laughing. 

He kissed along her neck until he reached her earlobe.  He 
pulled her against him while he sucked that in.  This time, when 
his hands slid up under her sweatshirt, she didn't object.  She 
did shiver when he scratched her back lightly, but she also sank 
against him.  At least, she thought, Steve isn't rushing into 
this. 

Remembering his image of post-wedding behavior, he lifted the 
waistband of her sweatshirt.  After a moment, she raised her 
arms. 

He flung the shirt towards a chair.  Then he started kissing 
all the skin he could reach. They had more than three hours for 
kissing, after all.  He figured that he could cover all of her 
skin in that time.  And the critical bit?  Would she let him?  
Probably this wasn't a good day to try.  They'd already had a 
longer argument than he wanted to have this day. 

She saw that she'd been right.  This kissing of the shoulders 
and neck was a preparation for intercourse.  And, if her own 
feelings were any guide, an effective preparation.  Steve didn't 
have any more experience than she had, but he seemed to know what 
he was doing.  When his lips reached her stomach, however, her 
legs felt weak.  She pushed him away.  *He* was still fully 
dressed. She started to unbutton his shirt. 

Steve wasn't sure where this was going, but he wasn't about to 
ask any questions right then.  He stood still, except that his 
hands roved over her shoulders and arms.  Anything more would 
interfere with her actions.  When she reached the last button she 
could, he pulled the rest of his shirt out of his pants.  When 
he'd thrown the shirt towards a chair, he raised his arms for her 
to remove the t-shirt. 

This time the kiss was even better.  So much of them touched; 
only her bra interfered above the waist.  The room wasn't really 
cold, but the warmth of the skin was pleasant, as well as the 
consciousness that this was Shannon he was touching. 

"Turn around," he said as he broke the kiss.  There were still 
parts of her front he hadn't kissed, but he wanted access to 
those lovely breasts. 

He lifted her hair to kiss the back of her neck.  Slowly, he 
kissed her spine down until the bra strap interfered.  He 
unsnapped it and kept on kissing downward.  He stopped just above 
the waist of her jeans. 

He straightened and pulled her against him.  The skin of her 
back was warm against his chest.  Her abdomen was smooth and firm 
under his hands.  Her breasts were even smoother and so soft.  He 
held them for a minute before his fingers started to tease her 
nipples.  He kissed the back of her head, keeping his lips closed 
against her hair. 

But the tiny bit of her spine wasn't the important part that 
the bra had covered.  He removed the bra completely and dropped 
it on her other clothes on the chair.  At a slight tug on her 
shoulder, she turned to face him. 

Left hand on her clothed butt and right hand on her breast, he 
kissed her forehead.  He skipped her mouth on the way down, but 
kissed her cheek, neck, and shoulder on the road to her 
breasts. 

He raised his left hand so he could press both breasts against 
his face as he kissed the valley between them.  He kissed up her 
breast, dropping his left hand to give him access.  He stopped 
just at the line of her areola to look at the nipple straining 
towards him. 

"Oh Shannon," he said.  Then he kissed it, sucked it. 

Shannon felt fire radiate from that kiss.  Her knees felt 
weak.  When he removed his mouth, she stepped back to sit on the 
bed. 

Was she saying 'no'?  He looked at her and she opened her 
arms.  He went to the bed, tilted her chin up with one finger, 
and kissed her thoroughly.  He leaned over and kissed each nipple 
before kneeling in front of her.  He took each foot in his hands 
to untie the sneakers.  This didn't reveal anything new, really.   
She was still wearing socks. 

He pushed one leg of her jeans above the sock.  He kissed her 
shin though the panty hose.  He pulled off that sock.  Then he 
repeated the process on the other leg.  He kissed each ankle 
through the hose.  Shannon had cute feet as feet went.  Still, 
they couldn't compete with her breasts.  He looked at those 
again, but this wasn't the time for that. 

He rose back to his feet and held out his arms to her.  She 
took his hands to pull herself up. 

He struggled with the jeans for a moment.  Why did girls have 
zippers on the side?  She grinned, but didn't offer to help.  
When they began to come down, he saw the white panties.  "Oh, 
Shannon!  " he said.  There was some complicated set of equipment 
underneath the panties.  Had she worn a chastity belt?  When he 
got the jeans lower, he saw the separate nylons.  "Oh, Shannon!  
" he said again.  "Oh, darling!  " 

"You like?" She was grinning. 

"I like." That wasn't strong enough.  She sat down again to 
allow the jeans to come off completely.  He heatedly kissed the 
skin above the tops of the nylons.  The things that attached them 
were another puzzle, but she still didn't offer any help. 

He slowly eased one of the nylons down, kissing her leg as he 
went.  This was too delicate to toss towards the chair; he walked 
to the chair and draped it over the back.  Then, he repeated the 
same process with the other leg.  She leaned over and undid his 
belt.  He held his pants up while he walked to another chair and 
sat down.  He removed his sneakers and socks before stripping off 
the pants.  He left the sneakers on the floor and the rest of his 
clothes on the chair. 

Shannon had intended to undress Steve as he undressed her.  
She did see, however, that he'd been bright enough to start with 
her shoes. His jockey shorts didn't hide his erection very well.  
Her shivers weren't all because the room was rather cool, but 
that was part of it.  She raised the covers and slipped in.  The 
sheets were cold. 

Steve lifted covers and looked a question at her. 

"Come on in," she said.  He slipped into the bed.  He kissed 
her.  Their skin was touching almost everywhere. 

He could feel her nipples pressing against his chest.  "Oh, 
Shannon," he said.  He'd been saying that a lot recently.  "I 
love you." 

He was lying over her with his knees on either side of hers.  
She could feel his hardness press against her thigh as his tongue 
invaded her mouth. According to the sex-ed classes he was ready, 
but he didn't seem to be doing anything about it.  Instead, he 
moved off to the side, still touching her, and kissed all over 
her face.  Then he kissed lower, along her neck and then her 
shoulder. 

He kissed each breast alternately.  Her nipples ached for his 
touch before he gave it.  Then, it was the lightest lick on her 
right nipple.  By the time he got around to sucking one (the 
left), she needed it so much that she held his face to it with 
her right hand.  Her left was nearly trapped under him. 

Steve felt he was in heaven.  When he kissed her mouth, she 
kissed him back.  When he kissed her neck, she wiggled 
delightfully -- provocatively -- under him.  When he kissed her 
nipple, she held his head in encouragement.  Of course, he was 
totally -- painfully -- erect.  But this wasn't about him, this 
was about them; and his erection wasn't going to be about them 
until Shannon decided.  Maybe it wasn't going to be about them 
until their wedding night. 

Right then, he was ready to make that decision.  She was so 
responsive; he loved her so much.  When he could tear his mouth 
away from her breasts and kissed her belly, she wiggled so 
erotically. 

The room, if it had been a little cool for sitting around 
almost naked, was still warmer than her room at home. With Steve 
under the covers with her, she was soon toasty warm.  Steve's 
kisses were heating her up, as well.  He ducked his head under 
the covers when he started kissing her breasts, and he stayed 
down where she couldn't see him.  She could sure feel him, 
though.  He was kissing her everywhere. 

Would he want to kiss her there?  Would she let him?  The 
books made it sound so nice.  Besides, she was done with saying 
'no' to Steve.  The thought made her writhe in embarrassment.  
She couldn't decide; she'd let the moment decide for her. 

Steve was kissing her belly while she wiggled under him.  
Wiggling under him, that was so erotic a concept.  He came up the 
bed to kiss her mouth.  It opened for him, and her tongue 
welcomed his.  He held a breast in each hand, cupping them, 
almost as if he were judging their weight.  His left hand stroked 
lower, passed over her quivering belly. 

He brushed her panties.  White panties!   Not that he could 
see their color like this.  His hand continued on to stroke her 
thighs, stroke the insides of both thighs at once. 

The feelings were nearly unbearable.  Shannon spread her legs.  
Suddenly, Steve kissed her; his tongue invaded her mouth and 
sought hers.  While she was dealing with that, his hand clasped 
her mound through her panties.  She spread her legs wider as his 
fingers began to rub her. 

Steve abandoned Shannon's lovely mouth in favor of her even- 
lovelier breasts.  Her nipples were so hard and so responsive.  
He sucked one and then the other.  Shannon was breathing hard, 
and she was raising her center rhythmically.  Her mound pressed 
several times a minute against his hand. 

Shannon delighted in the attention Steve was paying to her 
body.  Every stroke of his fingers, every touch of his lips, 
warmed her.  But she needed more, oh!   how she needed something 
more.  And then she got it.  A fire shot through her again and 
again.  It was ecstasy; it was too much.  And, then, it was over.  
She clamped her legs together and rolled away from him.  She 
gasped in air, unable to get enough. 

Steve was glorying in her response to him, and then she rolled 
away.  The emotional chill was matched by a physical chill on his 
back; Shannon seemed to have taken the covers with her as she 
rolled.  He readjusted the covers and snuggled against her 
back. 

She didn't do anything to push him away.  He lay like that for 
a moment. 

"Shannon, what's wrong?" 

She reached back to take his hand.  "Nothing's wrong. 
Everything's wonderful." Then she needed her breath.  After a 
bit, she took his hand and hugged it with both of hers against 
her breast. 

He didn't find her statement very convincing, but the feel of 
her breasts against his left hand was something he couldn't 
resist.  First he cuddled her top one, and then he stroked the 
nipple with thumb and index finger. 

"Do you mind?" she said.  He stopped immediately. 

"That's not necessary." How could she put this?  His chest 
felt so nice and warm against her back.  His hand felt so good on 
her breast.  She didn't want him to go away, she just wanted that 
hand to stay.  It was just... "Just be very gentle with that.  
They are sensitive just now." 

"Did I hurt them?  Did I suck too hard?  Is that why you 
rolled away?" 

"No.  I don't know.  It was just awfully much right then." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be.  I wanted it, and then I didn't." Did Steve want 
the word 'climax'?  "I love you." 

He was slowly figuring out that she'd come to an orgasm.  It 
was too bad she'd rolled away, but that wasn't rejecting him.  He 
pulled his arm so he was hugging her arm and body, but his hand 
wasn't putting pressure on her breast.  "I love you, too." 

She could feel his arm cuddling her and his hand cuddling her 
in a different way.  She could feel his warmth against her back 
and his hardness against her butt.  According to the sex-ed 
books, he was ready.  At least he wasn't rushing, for which she 
was grateful.  She suddenly suspected that the sex-ed books were 
damn poor preparation.  They didn't teach driver's ed out of 
books. 

Still, he sure felt like he was ready.  And she was ready, 
which she hadn't been a few minutes ago.  He was still thoughtful 
of her, still Steve. 

Steve loved the feel of Shannon against his chest, Shannon's 
breast in his hand, Shannon's legs against his, Shannon's butt 
separated by only a few pieces of cloth from his raging erection.  
He began stroking her nipples as gently as his fingers could 
move.  Shannon shivered; he could feel the motion against his 
entire body. 

He missed the feel of her breast in his hand, but he needed to 
stroke more of her.  He caressed her delightful belly, slightly 
curled in this position, her thighs, her mound covered by 
panties.  They were white panties, lovely panties, panties 
promising even more delights on a later day.  Nice as they were 
to imagine, pleasant as their feel under his hand, the hair and 
mound underneath them would be even more arousing.  He thought 
that Shannon might allow him to remove them now.  It was, at 
least, worth a try.  He put his fingers under the elastic at her 
waist and stopped. 

Now? Shannon thought.  Was this the time?  Well, he'd been 
thoughtful; she'd already had a climax; she was ready for more.  
But one thing was missing.  He'd *promised* to provide a 
condom. 

Safe time or not, she wasn't going to take that risk. 

"Did you bring something?" she asked. 

"Something?" Steve hadn't a clue what she could mean. 

"In your *stories* you always provide a 
contraceptive." 

Steve didn't think she could actually mean it.  Still, his 
cock lurched at the thought.  Whatever she meant, it was time to 
get out what he had packed.  He climbed out of bed, opened up the 
suitcase, and brought out the sock-covered box.  For good 
measure, he brought out the paper bag with his other 
preparations.  That he put on the nightstand on what had been his 
side. 

Back in bed, he pulled the box out of the sock and opened it.  
He tore one packet off, and put the box and the packet on the 
nightstand.  "Is that what you wanted?" 

Shannon nodded. 

"Then kiss me." She did.  Conscious that the brief trip had 
cooled his hands, he held them between his thighs. 

That didn't warm them fast enough to risk touching her.  So he 
broke the kiss, climbed over her, and kissed her again with his 
chest against her breasts and his legs on both sides of hers.  
His tongue invaded her mouth; his chest rubbed against her hard 
nipples and just felt the supporting softness; his erection 
pressed against her mound.  All this contact was tremendously 
exciting, but he remembered that -- unless he blew it -- he would 
get even more contact soon. 

Shannon was pretty sure that he needed to be between her legs, 
and her panties -- his underpants for that matter -- needed to be 
off.  Then she figured out that Steve was waiting even longer.  
That was good... maybe.  Anyway, it was a reminder that 
*Steve* didn't grab.  The kiss was exciting; the reminder 
was reassuring; so was the prompt surfacing of the protection, 
for that matter.  All in all, she could let herself go.  She sure 
wanted to let herself go.  She hugged Steve and returned the kiss 
with enthusiasm. 

Steve kissed all over Shannon's face.  He pulled the covers 
over his head as he moved lower.  He spent a lot of time on her 
breasts, kissing all over her right breast before he reached the 
nipple.  He enjoyed sucking there, but reminded himself that he 
had to give equal time to the left one.  Rolling over to that 
side took all the covers with him.  He solicitously tucked them 
around Shannon before resuming the kissing. 

The flat plane Shannon had lain down on originally had turned 
into a nest.  Partly it was the mattress's indentation under 
their combined weight.  Partly it was the pillows pushed to each 
side by this time.  The culmination was the sheet and blankets 
Steve had settled around her so carefully.  The world, so chilly 
and blustery this time of year, was banished.  She was surrounded 
by warmth, and Steve was providing much of that warmth.  She was 
damn-near surrounded by Steve, for that matter.  And his mouth on 
her breast was sending shivers through her body. 

When he reached for her panties this time, Shannon raised her 
hips.  Getting them off with him entirely under the covers was a 
bit of a problem, and he had to tuck her in again.  Then, though, 
he could feel all of her.  He stroked her silky curls for a 
minute.  He took his hand lower, and then stroked upwards between 
her thighs.  When he got to the juncture, she parted her legs 
more.  He touched her lower lips. 

"Oh, Shannon." He moved up in the bed to kiss her again. 

Their tongues touched; his fingers were stroking her very 
lightly.  She could feel the excitement rise. 

When he parted those lips, he could feel her dampness.  She 
was ready for him!   He explored what he had seen only in his 
dreams, constantly reminding himself to be very careful.  This 
was the ultimate delicacy of his delicate love.  His chest was 
pressed against her in this position, and he could just feel the 
softness of her breast.  Suddenly, he had to kiss it again. 

He stroked between her lips while he sucked at the nipple.  
Her hand came down to grasp his wrist.  He'd always stopped when 
she wanted him to stop; he'd told himself that he always would.  
Could he stop this time?  But she didn't push him away. 

Instead, she pulled his hand against her.  Grateful, he 
stroked again, feeling the slickness.  He sucked again, tasting 
the firmness. 

She was tremendously aroused by his strokes. She wanted more, 
more pressure, faster motion.  She pulled him against her to 
increase the sensations, but his motions didn't get harder.  She 
could feel her climax waiting just inches from her.  With his 
gentle motions, though, it stayed inches away.  She ached for it, 
panted for it, but it didn't come. 

And then it did. 

She soared away into joy.  "Ah!  " she said. 

Shannon was arching against his hand, writhing on the bed.  
She said something inarticulate.  Her orgasm seemed to go on 
forever. 

And then it ended.  He dropped his hand and raised his mouth 
immediately.  She lay panting beside him, sounding like she'd run 
a mile.  She was damp with sweat.  Scared of the outside air 
hitting her like that, he carefully tucked the covers around her 
again.  Slowly, her breathing became more normal.  She shivered 
once, and then turned her face towards him. 

"Steve?" 

"Yes.  I love you." 

"Love you, too.  Do you think it's time?" 

He'd thought it was time since the summer.  But he didn't say 
that.  He pushed down his shorts and reached for the packet.  
He'd only put on a condom once before, for practice.  His hand 
shook as he eased this one on his tip and rolled it down.  It was 
greasy, and he held the sheet away from it.  Getting between her 
legs like that was a bit clumsy. 

Shannon came down a little from her excitement while Steve got 
into position.  His fingers weren't at all as exciting spreading 
her labia as they had been stroking between them.  His covered 
thing was slippery and a little chilly.  "Is it okay?" he 
asked. 

Fine time to ask.  Still, he wasn't taking her for granted, 
even now.  She nodded; her decision was made. 

He was there!   Where he had imagined himself so many times.  
She nodded.  "Oh, Shannon," he said.  "I love you." And he loved 
her more than he ever had, more than he could have imagined 
possible, as he pushed into her.  At first, it wouldn't go.  He 
had to remind himself to be gentle. 

And then, something shifted, and he was entering her.  The 
feeling around his cock was a tight clasp and, even through the 
rubber, warmth.  The feeling was exquisite, somehow softer than 
his grip had ever been, and all around him.  He was conscious of 
a drive to just shove into those warm depths, but he kept himself 
moving slowly.  When he checked her face, she didn't seem to be 
in pain.  She didn't look like she was in any sexual rapture 
either; more like she was interested. 

Finally, after what seemed to be hours -- albeit delightful 
hours -- of pressing into her, his pubic hair was against hers.  
"Are you okay?" he asked. 

She felt him spreading her as he entered.  It was neither the 
pain nor the sensual delight that different novels had suggested.  
His fingers had brought more pleasure.  Still, they were doing 
it; that had to count for something. 

She shifted under him, spreading her legs and bending them 
more. 

He adjusted himself too.  They were still pressed against each 
other for their entire length.  He could still feel her around 
his cock and against his body.  "I am now," she said. 

"Can I move?" 

"Oh yes." 

If anything, the sensations he felt moving outward were more 
intense.  She clasped him at the most sensitive spot just under 
the head of his cock.  Then he went inward again.  Soon, he was 
moving in and out faster and faster.  He felt what seemed like an 
explosion in the back of his head, and then he was thrusting 
against her trying to go deeper without any progress.  "Shannon!  
" he said.  And he was shooting into her, again and again.  Then 
he collapsed onto her softness and gasped.  It had never been 
like that, never. 

The sensations she felt started to be more like the excitement 
his finger had provided.  And watching his face gave a real 
feeling of power.  She was the reason he looked like that, the 
reason he sped up like that, the object of his evident desire as 
he pressed against her so hard.  It did jump within her as it had 
jumped in her hand.  And, then, he dropped onto her and panted in 
her ear.  He was heavy, but even that was nice.  If she felt 
mildly desirous, she felt extremely desired. 

Then he was just heavy.  As he regained his breath, he shifted 
to support a little of his weight himself.  He kissed her 
shoulder, hugged various places; but soon he was shrinking out of 
the rubber.  He had to dispose of it and the mess.  "I have to 
go," he said.  He grabbed the bag on his way. 

She thought he looked a little silly, holding the base against 
him as he went.  But he had taken responsibility.  And he had 
brought her joy.  And he *had* called her name at his 
climax.  Not telling much, she didn't hear as much as some of her 
friends did.  She had heard stories, though.  Steve had known who 
he was with. 

They had done it, and she was glad.  Still, Steve's worry 
about check-out time had been wasted.  They had done everything, 
and it couldn't be eleven yet.  If what they had done hadn't been 
dirty, and it had -- a little, *she* felt a somewhat soiled.  
She wondered how long she'd have to wait until she could wash up 
without insulting him.  She wondered what they would do 
afterwards; make out?  Making out seemed beside the point. 

Steve was half-tempted to dump the thing in the toilet.  
Still, all his training was against flushing anything that 
wouldn't dissolve.  He tied a knot in the middle, twisted it into 
a lump, and wrapped it in toilet paper.  He dumped it in the 
wastebasket.  He rinsed himself off, used the toilet, and washed 
his hands with water as hot as he could stand.  He brushed his 
teeth.  He rinsed his hands under the hot water again and dried 
them. 

She watched it bob up and down a little bit as he walked back.  
Both of them looked a little proud of themselves.  Maybe they 
deserved to be.  Still, his hands were the only part of him which 
was even nearly warm enough when he climbed back in the bed.  She 
shivered when he kissed her neck.  Then she returned his 
kiss. 

"Toothpaste!  " she said. 

"I brought a new brush for you." He thought the kiss he got in 
response was more enthusiastic than any he had received that 
morning.  "It's in the bag.  The toothpaste is in the medicine 
cabinet." 

The shape he saw, spreading out from her waist in broad 
abundance, hadn't been much hidden by swimsuits -- not even by 
tight skirts and jeans.  Still, some of her hair was visible 
between her legs; enough that he could convince himself that he 
saw the parting.  The clutch and relaxation of muscles was 
different, too; and the parts shook up and down in a new way as 
she walked to the door. 

Why, he mused as the door closed on her, were girls so sexy 
from behind?  It wasn't that he particularly wanted to thrust 
himself into her that way.  He'd been where he belonged, hoped to 
return there soon, and regarded anything else as a poor imitation 
at best.  Maybe it was just the spread of their legs, the 
reminder that there was standing room. 

She was already chilled when she closed the door.  Still, the 
lubrication -- welcome at the time -- was starting to feel 
icky. 

She washed her face, a few other critical areas, and down 
there most carefully of all.  She used the toilet, dried herself, 
and washed her hands.  She was chilly by now, and she hadn't 
brought anything with her, neither makeup nor brush; the robe was 
at home.  She did brush her teeth carefully.  She turned off the 
light and headed back to her place in bed at a fast walk.  It was 
that or get dressed. 

She looked so brave then.  Sexy, certainly, with her nipples 
bobbing up and down nearly in synch.  Attractive, as her legs 
scissored together to hide the secrets he had so recently 
visited, and then apart to reveal their beginning.  Beautiful, as 
he saw the hair on her mound bushed out for the first time, not 
crushed down as the panties left it.  But she looked brave more 
than any of that; bared to his view, she accepted that 
bareness. 

She walked around the bed to her side; there was another 
glimpse of that rear-view sexiness. 

Then it was pressed against him, and more than a little 
chilly.  He tucked the sheets around her carefully and cuddled 
her.  When she lay curled up like that, she had a bit of a belly 
to fit into his hand.  The big knuckle of his index finger rested 
against her navel; his pinky just brushed her hair; and the space 
between fit into his palm.  Knowing that she was proud of her 
slimness, that she would straighten if he mentioned it, he 
cuddled this little bit of her. 

With his foot, he tried to move the last piece of blanket over 
her leg.  When that failed, he moved his hand outside the covers 
again to flick this bottom part over them both.  He kept his leg 
curled over hers under the blanket.  Snaking his arm back inside 
the warm covers, he tucked everything real tight around them.  
Then he held her breast.  "Y'know?" he whispered.  "I love 
you." 

He reached his lips up to kiss the back of her ear. 

He held her breast in his hand, supporting its weight, 
enjoying the smoothness of her skin.  He kissed her shoulder and 
other places he could reach from behind her.  His cock grew 
again, moving itself along the softness of her hips. 

Shannon saw that she'd been right.  Kissing her breasts was 
part of making out; kissing the back of her neck was part of 
making love.  And he'd been right, too.  They needed this time.  
With his body heat and his careful tucking of the covers, she was 
getting quite warm.  Even so, she shivered at his next kiss. 

"I love you," he said. 

She turned so she could face him.  "Love you, too." And then 
she kissed him on the lips.  It was a simple kiss, but the 
follow-up involved tongues and holding.  His bottom hand held her 
right breast, and his other hand tucked her in again.  But there 
was a lot of stroking involved in the tucking in. 

There was a pillow behind her waist and another behind his 
head. 

They were breathing each other and the space between as much 
as the outside air.  She could smell him, and a bit of herself, 
and a strong whiff of what they had done.  Under the rubber 
smell, and she was quite determined not to complain about that, 
the total was somehow earthy. 

She kissed him again, invading his mouth for once.  He 
welcomed her tongue with his, and scratched her back with his 
free hand.  She moved closer to him in response, one breast 
pressing into his trapped palm, the other brushing against his 
chest.  As his hand passed over her hip, she pressed that toward 
him as well.  Suddenly his penis was pressed between her thighs 
and moving upward.  She froze. 

"Sorry," he said. 

The kiss was broken already.  "Don't be." She moved back 
enough that it was lying lower on her hip.  "What do you call it 
anyway?" 

"My cock, usually.  And what do you call yours?" Then, before 
she could deny having one, "you know what I mean." 

"You're going to laugh," she said. 

"Tell me!  " He could imagine some secret phrase from girl 
culture. 

"My vagina." 

"That's fine." Shannon was a class act.  Other girls had cunts 
or pussies; she had a vagina.  "But it does leave off the front 
porch." he caressed over her mound and between her legs.  "I like 
this part a lot....  Not that I don't like the other -- your 
vagina." 

He ducked under the covers to kiss her breasts.    

                              - = - 

The Jeep was a wonderful vehicle for snowy weather and 
farmer's back roads.  It wasn't so wonderful for hours driving on 
clear interstates in freezing weather.  Roger was chilled and 
knew that nobody awaited him at home.  He pulled over at a diner, 
used the john, and had lunch with refills on the coffee.  He felt 
much more alert when he got back on the interstate.  He decided 
to meet Steve at the school.  They might well not need the jeep; 
but if they needed it now, they would *really* need it. 

He knocked at the gym door.  "I'm looking for Steve Anderson," 
he told the boy who answered. 

"I haven't seen him.  Are you sure he's working today?" 

"How about Ken Dalton, then?" Ken came over. 

"Is Steve here?" 

"Not right now." 

"I'm driving the Jeep.  Do you want me to pick something 
up?" 

"No, thank you, Mr. Anderson.  I think we have everything 
we'll need.  We're finishing up right now." Roger could see that.  
There were wonderful larger-than-life cupids on each side of the 
entrance into the basketball court.  A girl was taping another 
picture above the door.  It was clearly a large heart and -- at 
the same time -- a basketball going into a hoop.  Two kids were 
holding the ladder for her; several others were watching.  Ken 
wasn't the sort to tolerate that much kibitzing if there were 
real work still to be done. 

"Well, I'll cut on home then.  If you see Steve before I do, 
tell him I'm home and can pick up his mom if he wants." 

Steve wasn't home.  Where could he be?  Ken had said he wasn't 
there just then; the other boy seemed to say he hadn't seen him 
at all.  On the other hand, the kid simply might not have known 
Steve.  In that case, yelling "Steve Anderson" might have been 
smarter, but who expects smarts from high-school kids? 

Still, Roger wanted to pick up Rachel from work.  Well, he 
could.  The worst would be two of them showing up at the same 
time.  He pulled his suitcase out of the Jeep and stripped off 
his overshoes and coat as soon as he got in the kitchen.  He kept 
his sweater on while he unpacked in the warmth of the house.  He 
set his alarm and took forty winks until it was time to pick up 
Rachel.  If the phone call meant anything, he'd need to be rested 
that night.    

                              - = - 

They were both lying on their right sides.  Steve was curled 
around Shannon, talking very softly and occasionally kissing the 
back of her head.  He was erect again, or nearly so, and pressed 
against her butt.  She could dream of a white wedding all she 
wanted -- if not any more.  To him, this was the second most 
pleasant aspect of his vision of married life.  He could hold her 
while they talked.  He could feel her naked skin against him as 
he drifted off to sleep.  At which thought, he jerked himself 
awake.  This was no time for going to sleep; checkout time was 
one p.m. and it was well after eleven.  He raised his arm so he 
could see the watch, the only thing he was wearing.  Eleven 
twenty-two. 

Shannon was enjoying it as well.  It was nice to be held, nice to 
be warm in their little nest when she could see the cold light of 
the winter day through the drapes.  And Steve was still 
interested in her.  He'd been interested in sex, sure.  For that 
matter, so had she.  But when the sex was over, he was interested 
in Shannon. 

Steve tried to keep his caresses to the non-sexual parts, but -- 
for over a week now -- he'd only seen Shannon in school.  Soon 
his hand was on her breasts.  When she made no objection, he 
stroked her there and stroked down to her mound.  "Mmmm," Shannon 
said. 

"Let me see it." She turned on her back, and he went under the 
bedclothes again. 

"It is a heart, an upside down heart.  Wouldn't the kids like to 
have that as a decoration for the ball tonight?" 

"Steve!  " She drew her legs together. 

"Well, I only said they'd like it.  I didn't say that they should 
see it.  Too bad you can't be there, but you should be properly 
dressed." 

"I was going to buy a new dress." She was going to buy a front-
closing bra to go with it, too.  Still, she liked being like this 
more.  And he did remember the summer.  She let her legs fall 
apart. 

"You don't need a new dress to look pretty.  Really, you look 
best like this.  But nobody gets to see you but me." Steve kissed 
a line from just under her navel to her breasts.  Then he kissed 
all over those -- ending with a sucking kiss on her left nipple.  
Despite her previous satisfaction, Shannon was starting to feel 
excited. 

When Steve returned to the head of the bed he lay on his side 
facing her.  She turned on her left side to face him.  He tucked 
her back in their nest before beginning a long kiss.  His tongue 
was in her mouth, one of his hands was on her left breast.  His 
other hand roved all over her back, spreading warm feelings 
wherever it went. 

They broke the kiss to lie facing each other.  He was inches from 
her face, breathing in her exhalations, looking into her eyes.  
When his hand finally stroked between her thighs, she raised her 
leg a little to allow it access to her center.  "I do love you, 
you know," he said.  "Not just here." 

"But there most of all?" 

"Well, yes.  Sorta.  You're so lovely down there.  It does look 
like a heart.  Did you look in the mirror?" 

"Yeah, but I didn't stand on my head." 

He laughed, softly as they were inches apart.  "You can think of 
things moving without actually moving them around.  Still, I'd 
like to see you standing on your head dressed like this.  But, 
then, I like you dressed like this, anyway." 

"You can't see anything now," she pointed out. 

"I like to see you.  I like to touch you.  I like to taste you." 

He kissed her nose.  "I like to smell you.  I even like to hear 
you, though that doesn't seem to change when you're undressed." 

"Boys are just crazy about being naked.  You asked what time I 
showered.  Did you picture me?" 

"Some days," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask which ones.  That 
idea had disappeared in the preparation for this day -- and the 
concern about Amy.  "And coming back to bed just now.  I could 
tell you weren't happy about my seeing all of you, but you did it 
anyhow.  You were so brave, so considerate.  And wearing the 
panties and stockings.  You were so kind to wear them just to 
please me." 

Now, she thought, he called them gifts to him.  Back then, he'd 
come close to demanding them.  Well, that was too strong; he'd 
said she didn't *have* to.  He had never said that he was getting 
tired of the way she was always saying no.  She just worried that 
he was getting tired of her, and stopping the 'no' was one way to 
change that.  Anyway, nice kids said "thank you" when they got 
the stuff they had put on their Christmas lists.  Steve was, 
whatever else he was, nice.  And his fingers were being nice in a 
different sort of way.  They were playing with her hair down 
there and stroking between those lips. 

They lay facing each other in silence for minutes.  His hand and 
its actions were hidden by the blankets.  She rolled over on her 
back and spread her legs more.  Alarmed, Steve pulled his hand 
away.  Did those sensations annoy her?  But she pulled his hand 
back where it belonged.  He was glad, grateful even.  He could 
only show that by kissing her. 

It turned into quite a hot kiss.  Her tongue responded to his, 
her hands came up and held his head down in the kiss.  When she 
finally let go, he moved down in the bed so he could kiss her 
breasts.  "Get the covers, will you?" he said.  His right hand 
was under him, and his left hand was occupied with more important 
matters. 

She pulled the sheet and blankets up to her neck.  He kissed the 
near breast, including one sucking kiss to the nipple.  He leaned 
further over -- letting in the outside air to chill his right 
shoulder as he did so -- to reach her far breast.  Soon, he 
concentrated on that nipple.  First, he opened his mouth and 
sucked the entire peak of her breast into his mouth.  Then, he 
let it escape slowly until he was gripping the nipple as tightly 
as his lips could without any help from his teeth.  Then he 
licked the areola as well as the nipple.  Slowly, he repeated 
that process as her legs spread by millimeters at a time and her 
mound rose against his hand.  Down here, he could smell her 
arousal.  The aroma was maddening and seemed to grow stronger as 
he fought himself to remain gentle. 

She felt all this stimulation and a growing tension within her.  
She wanted to clutch his head against her breast, but she wanted 
to clasp his wonderful hand against her too.  She was about to go 
for the head when her feelings spiraled out of control.  She 
could only grab hold of the bottom sheet as her hips bucked and a 
shudder ran through her.  "Steve!  " she said.  Then she lost all 
coherence. 

Steve kept stroking and sucking as Shannon moaned.  Then she 
collapsed on the bed.  He figured that she didn't want any erotic 
contact just then, but -- when he'd straightened up to lie beside 
her -- he kissed her shoulder and held the far side of her ribs. 

Slowly, her breathing became more regular. 

Shannon came back from bliss into comfort.  She was lying beside 
Steve and in his arms.  He, who had provided such ecstasy, was 
now providing warmth and reassurance.  "Steve?" 

"Yes?" 

"What did I do to deserve you?" 

"I don't know.  It might be your beautiful face.  It might be 
your lovely shape.  It might be how you act.  It might be your 
sweet disposition." 

She knew it wasn't her disposition.  She'd been prickly around 
him as much as around anybody.  Steve was just a nice guy.  But 
then he kissed her, and she forgot her worries. 

Their tongues tasted each other.  His licked over her lips before 
investigating the inside of her mouth again.  He kissed her cheek 
and then her ear.  She'd been right, the kisses on her ears were 
part of real sex.  He kissed down her neck and, ducking under the 
covers again, down her torso to her breasts.  This time, he gave 
equal attention to both nipples.  He squeezed them between his 
lips, tongued all over the areolae as well as on the nipples, 
sucked them each briefly.  When he trailed a set of kisses down 
the underside of her right breast, he didn't stop. 

Her belly was so sweet, tensing under his mouth until it felt 
like velvet covering steel.  Before he got to her fur, he could 
smell her arousal again.  He resisted that siren call as long as 
he could, kissing her mound with its reversed-heart of delicate 
hair.  Then he skipped to her thigh.  He broke the kisses to 
climb between her legs.  Here, where he'd entered heaven not so 
long ago, he got a clear noseful of that maddening scent. 

Was he going to do it again, she wondered.  Without protection?  
Without asking?  No, he started kissing her again, this time on 
the insides of her thighs. It felt ticklish, but it felt arousing 
as well.  She knew she wouldn't be excited again, she'd already 
come, come twice for that matter.  Still, this felt nice.  It was 
nice to be kissed anyway, even when it didn't arouse her.  And 
Steve's kisses almost always aroused her. 

Still, was he going to kiss her there?  That was gross.  But she 
wasn't going to say no to Steve again.  (Unless she had to.) And 
*so far* the kisses had felt nice.  And she wasn't a good girl 
any more, it hadn't got her anything.  And the books made it out 
to be so grand.  She had washed there, but not very well. 

Steve kissed up the inside of one thigh and then the other.  By 
now, Shannon was writhing under his ministrations.  The light was 
dim even outside the covers, you could hardly see anything down 
here.  But every time she shifted, there was a tantalizing 
glimpse of her feminine secrets.  He finally used one hand to 
open her outer lips.  The inner ones were two lines of pink 
moistness.  He parted them with two fingers. 

There was the hole where he had entered her, looking impossibly 
small like this.  And it had been such a great feeling?  Above 
it, where the lips met, there were folds upon folds, a complex of 
beauty.  Wasn't it just like girls to have so much beauty, so 
complexly arranged, and so hidden away?  In the midst of that, 
looking darker than the surrounding folds, was a tiny cylinder. 

He knew that this was her mystical clitoris.  He wanted to kiss 
that, but he knew from his reading that it was incredibly 
sensitive.  He compromised by kissing her outer lips. 

She stiffened.  If she was going to kick him out of paradise 
anyway -- and he knew that she was going to push him away any 
moment now -- he would at least get one touch on her magic 
button.  He licked the clitoris with just his tongue tip.  The 
touch was electric; the taste was heady.  He braced himself for 
her rejection. 

She was in the midst of ambivalence, wishing she had washed more 
carefully down there, when his lips met her lower ones gently -- 
gently but fully.  She was thrilled, stiffening in near ecstasy. 

Then, while she was still reacting to that, she was thrilled even 
more deeply.    

Ready to roll away at her demand, he kissed her once again while 
he waited.  But the demand didn't come.  Instead, her knees rose 
up on either side.  Continuing the kiss, he slid his arms under 
her legs, giving himself better support.  The taste had been 
exquisite, he repeated it by licking slowly up one lip.  When 
that, too, didn't bring rejection, he licked up the other. 

She was full of new sensations.  His fingers, much less her own, 
had never delivered feelings like this.  The feelings continued, 
and they escalated.  Steve kept kissing her on her lower lips.  
Then his tongue touched her center again.  Warmth, heat really, 
was spreading through her from the point of contact. 

Steve loved having his head where it was, but he didn't like the 
way he had to hold his body to keep it there.  He slid his elbows 
forward, towards the head of the bed.  After a minute, he paused 
in his kisses.  Like this, he should be able to reach her breasts 
with his hands. 

With a little wriggling, he could.  He cupped the top of one 
breast with each hand.  The smooth curves filled his palms, and 
the nipples were between two of his fingers.  He rested them 
there on her glorious softness and returned his attention to his 
mouth.  This was pressed into heaven.  He drew it back a half 
inch and licked one lip very slowly. 

Shannon's breasts were being held; her nipples were brushed every 
time Steve moved --- even every time she breathed; her lower lips 
were being pressed and stroked and kissed *and licked*. There 
must have been some erogenous zones which weren't being 
pleasured, but that certainly didn't include her mind.  Steve 
cared for her; Steve was caring for her. 

Steve finally managed to tear his mouth away from her nectar for 
a moment.  "Oh, Shannon," he said.  Then he had to taste again.  
By this time every breath filled his senses with her aroma. 

"Oh, Steve," she answered.  He could tell from her tone that she 
was enjoying this, too.  That consciousness redoubled his 
pleasure.  He ventured another lick on her clitoris.  "Oh," she 
said.  He pressed his lips on her delicate lips once more. 

The warmth of his hands on her breasts was nearly motionless.  
His mouth touched her everywhere down there, and always in a 
different place.  She could even feel his breath against her.  
Her feelings spiraled upward. 

Steve could feel her legs spread microscopically around him, and 
her knees rise another inch.  He took that as a sign that she 
welcomed this, enjoyed it in some fraction of his ecstatic 
enjoyment.  He kissed her firmly, and then licked up both lips at 
once.  He stopped when he felt her clitoris, and kissed her again 
-- as lightly as he could manage. 

His mouth was tired, as much as he was enjoying this.  He moved 
back a tiny bit and blew across the lips, moving his head back 
and forth.  In this position, he could see her hair, although the 
heart shape wasn't apparent.  He took another breath -- almost 
swooning with the headiness of the scent of her arousal -- and 
blew across her mound.  He could see the individual hairs move in 
reaction. 

Pulling back so much strained his neck.  He turned his head 
towards her sweet thigh, and rested his cheek against all that 
loveliness.  Becoming conscious of the breasts in his hands, he 
rotated his hands on his wrists.  He could feel the softness 
against his palms, the stiffness of her nipples as his fingers 
brushed across them. 

Shannon could no longer feel the mattress and sheet under her 
back, the covers weighing on her knees.  All she could feel was 
Steve's hands on her breasts and his face pressing everywhere 
down below.  She tensed further, pressing herself against that 
face. 

Steve was enjoying his position, but the lack of movement 
couldn't be doing anything for Shannon.  He rolled his head 
against her sweetness, until his lips were in position to kiss 
her again.  He had less access than he had had before, but he 
didn't want to drag his hand all the way back down.  He licked 
her inner lips apart, and then lapped up that heady brew inside. 

He kissed her once more before licking upwards in the valley as 
slowly as possible.  He remembered to lessen the pressure of his 
tongue before it just touched her clitoris. 

Shannon's feelings spiraled upwards uncontrollably.  It was 
there; it was fire; it was ecstasy; she couldn't stand it. 

Steve's lip was almost bruised when Shannon raised her hard mound 
against it.  He kept the connection, though.  He sucked in, a 
kiss covering all the complexity of the upper part of her valley. 

When the mound dropped a millimeter, he licked again.  He was 
ready for the next rise, and he managed to keep his lips from 
further injury. 

Shannon couldn't stand it, but it was still going on.  Fire 
burned within her; fire burned under Steve's mouth.  It tore 
through her forever. 

And then it was gone. 

Steve knew enough to stop touching her when she relaxed.  He 
removed his hands from her breasts entirely.  He couldn't remove 
his mouth, though he stopped pressing and sucking.  His arms were 
trapped under her legs. 

Slowly, he eased his right arm free.  Then he used that hand to 
raise the knee on the other side.  His left arm slipped out 
easily then.  Meanwhile, he had been breathing in the maddening 
scent of her arousal.  His erection was so hard that it was 
painful.  He supported himself on his arms and his knees while he 
moved up her body until his head was in the outer air.  He leaned 
to his left and tucked the covers around her.  She looked like 
she needed them, she was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.  He 
looked into her face from inches away. 

By the time Steve was right over her, Shannon could gather her 
attention.  She still was breathing hard, though.  She could feel 
Steve's chest lightly brush her nipples, still extra-sensitive 
from what she had just gone through.  She could feel his hardness 
against her thigh less than an inch from her entrance.  Were they 
going to do it again?  Fine, but not without a rubber; and not 
yet -- she still had to get her breath back. 

"Wait," she said. 

Steve couldn't figure out what she wanted to delay.  Still, he 
could feel her nakedness all along his full length.  He could 
gladly wait like this until his arms gave out.  "Sure," he said.  
"For what?" 

Well, Shannon thought, until she had her breath back.  And her 
attention back.  And he had put on another rubber.  "For a 
minute.  And don't you need another rubber?" 

That was the best suggestion that Steve had ever heard.  He 
kissed her for it, then abandoned her mouth to let her breathe.  
He kissed everywhere else he could reach in this position, 
though.  Mostly, that was over her face, but it included her neck 
and her shoulders. 

These kisses weren't helping Shannon gather her attention.  On 
the other hand, she was glad Steve was letting her mouth alone.  
Ordinarily, she wanted his kisses on her mouth; just then, they 
interfered with her breathing.  And she had been right; kisses on 
her neck and shoulders were part of real sex, going further than 
making out.  And every time that Steve moved his mouth to kiss 
somewhere else, he moved all of his body.  His erection was 
touching her in critical areas.  He still hadn't put on the 
rubber. 

Steve figured that Shannon's "minute" had been fulfilled.  He 
broke off his kisses to lean on his right hand.  He'd clearly 
made a mistake putting the condoms on the nightstand which was 
now to his left.  Still, he reached the box and pulled it under 
the covers.  He leaned over on his right elbow and used Shannon 
as a table to hold the box.  Finally, he had it open, one of the 
packets torn off the strip, and that packet open.  He put 
everything, including the strip of foil from the end of the 
packet, back on the nightstand.  Then he rested on his left elbow 
to pull the condom from the packet. 

After he had rolled it on, he adjusted the covers again.  
Somehow, neither the sex-ed books nor his magazines had mentioned 
that all this motion disturbed the sheets and blankets.  Then he 
disturbed them again to kiss her breasts with the covers around 
his shoulders but leaving her shoulders bare. 

She wasn't quite recovered, but the kisses started to be 
arousing.  Besides, with him further away from her groin, the 
worry about some sudden -- unprotected -- entrance receded.  She 
ran her hands up his arms and across his back.  She didn't think 
of Steve as muscular, but she could feel tense muscles back 
there.  And she did like his kisses on her breasts, though she 
wished he would get to the nipples.  Then he did. 

Steve licked each nipple in turn before he started to suck one.  
He had to remind himself to be gentle; he didn't want to hurt 
Shannon, but something was driving him towards hard kisses.  
Tearing himself away from the sweet, responsive, nipple, he 
buried his face between her breasts and kissed there as hard as 
he needed to kiss her. 

When that need had been satisfied, another rose to consciousness.  
"Has it been enough time?" he asked. 

Shannon had to think for a minute to figure out what he was 
asking.  Then she nodded.  "Do you want to?" 

"Oh, yes," Steve answered.  That was understating it. 

She pulled the covers over his head as he kissed her breasts 
again.  Then he was kissing her mouth and his hand was busy down 
below.  She felt him pressed into her entryway, chilly again.  
Then he eased inward. 

Steve had promised to go slowly, and it was a struggle to keep 
that promise.  But the feelings were worth it.  He felt her clasp 
the head of his cock, and then -- slowly -- more and more of the 
shaft.  When his groin was pushed against hers, he raised his 
eyes to look into hers.  "Are you okay?"  

"I'm fine." It wasn't going to hurt the second time if it didn't 
hurt the first time.  Still, it was considerate of him to ask.  
And it felt better this time -- not the fire his lips had spread, 
but a warmth. 

Should he ask if he could move?  No.  In the first place, he 
wasn't sure he could keep still if she asked him to.  But he 
would watch her face, and try to stop if she looked unhappy.  As 
he moved slowly back and forth, the sensations of his cock were 
exquisite.  He could feel the friction all over the shaft, and 
the gentle constriction around his head was unlike anything his 
fist had ever provided.  His blood sang. 

He'd asked if she was okay.  And she was, really.  His motions 
were even arousing.  The question was whether he was okay.  He 
was frowning, almost as if he was in pain.  But he started to 
move faster, so he couldn't be.  And that faster movement was 
more exciting; she changed her position slightly to get more 
benefit from it. 

He was in heaven, bothered only by the necessity of going slowly.  
Then she shifted under him, and the sensations were even more 
perfect.  He couldn't help speeding up, and that speed increased 
the sensations.  He was climbing the hill, more slowly than he 
ever had before, with more exquisite sensations than he had ever 
been able to provide for himself.  He could feel his orgasm build 
at the base of his cock. 

Unable to resist, he sped up, than sped again.  He was pounding 
in and out of her.  Then he thrust against her and deep into her.  
"Shannon!  " he called.  He shot, and shot and shot.  It seemed 
to go on forever. 

Then it was finished, and so was he. 

Shannon's arousal had built, and her enjoyment had built with it.  
The few seconds of Steve pressed hard against her and throbbing 
deep within her had been especially exciting.  Then he was a 
heavy blanket sprawled on her and gasping into her ear.  At first 
that was an annoyance.  Then she hugged him.  He'd been so 
excited, and excited by her. 

She was glad when he moved off her, though.  "Are you all right?" 
he asked. 

"I'm fine." Actually, she'd been somewhat aroused, and she could 
tell that nothing was going to come of that.  On the other hand, 
he did hug her, now.  And he had called her name, shouted her 
name, at his climax.  He knew who he was with. 

"You're fine.  You're more than fine; you're wonderful.  You're 
perfect.  But how do you feel?" 

"I feel okay.  You're sweet." 

"Shannon, nothing I say could describe how it feels to be in 
you." 

She turned her back and cuddled against him.  He felt the condom 
almost rub off on her butt.  "Oops.  This is great, but I'd 
better take care of some things." He pulled the condom more fully 
on his much-diminished cock and held it there while he dashed to 
the bathroom.  There, he wrapped this one and put it in the 
wastebasket with the last one.  He took a piss and washed his 
cock as well as his hands. 

Back in bed, he hugged her. 

"Brr," she said.  "You aren't as warm as you were before." 

"But I'm cleaner." 

"I should clean up, too.  I wonder if I dare use that shower.  
Aside from going out in this weather with wet hair, mom would 
notice." 

"Yeah.  I brought some shower caps.  For both of us." 

"Steve!   You're a genius.  I don't care what they say about Ken, 
you're smarter where it counts." Then she hoped he didn't think 
that she really knew what Ken would bring on a motel date. 

Steve kissed the back of her head.  He loved lying in bed 
cuddling her; he'd enjoyed being in her so much more.  What made 
her day was being able to take a shower without her mom knowing. 

Well, give the lady what she wants.  He reached over for the bag 
and pulled out one of the shower caps. 

When she took it, he asked, "Want some company?" 

She thought about it for a moment.  "Not really, Steve.  Some 
things should be done in private." She doubted whether her 
parents ever shared a shower.  They'd been in the bathroom at the 
same time, sure.  She and her mom even did that sometimes.  But 
sharing a shower was something else.  Still, he'd asked.  And he 
had thought of the shower caps. 

All alone in the bathroom, she thought that over again.  Steve 
would like more intimacy.  After what they had done, that was a 
little silly, but it was reassuring at the same time.  And he'd 
taken no for an answer.  He'd thought ahead about the shower cap, 
too -- and the toothbrush.  Steve was a thoughtful guy.  He was a 
thoughtful lover, she realized.  It wouldn't make a splashy 
Hollywood movie, but it was a better basis for their relationship 
than looking romantically dissolute. 

She'd done this because she wanted the relationship to continue, 
she thought as she stepped under the shower.  And now she wasn't 
sure that it had been necessary.  On the other hand, it also 
looked like the relationship would continue.  And she wanted 
that, wanted it more than ever.  The books had been right about 
the kiss down there.  And they had been wrong about the actual 
sex.  Still, the second time had stirred her; she could guess 
that later times would bring her all the way.  And, until then, 
she wanted what Steve's hands (and Steve's tongue) could bring 
her.  She wasn't ready to shower with him, though. 

She dried herself off and wrapped the towel around her waist.  
She brushed her teeth again.  Thoughtful of Steve to think of the 
toothbrush.  Well, she wasn't ready to shower with him, but she 
was ready for him to see her.  After what they had been through, 
the towel was a little silly.  She took it off and went towards 
the door wearing nothing but the shower cap. 

Much as he regretted her leaving his side, Steve had enjoyed the 
view.  He enjoyed the view of her coming towards him even more.  
All the important parts of her were bare.  He could see her 
breasts sway and bob with the motion of her walk.  When she got 
to the bed, she sat down, pulled off the shower cap and put it on 
the nightstand.  She slipped into bed.  When she cuddled next to 
him her skin was chilly.  But it was bare, and it was Shannon.  
Still, he shivered. 

"Sorry," she said.  She moved an inch away. 

"I'm happy." He moved over to hug her.  All that sexy skin. 

Well, Shannon thought, he is nice.  And he was warm.  She relaxed 
in his arms.  She had warmed up nicely when he said, "But I'm 
dirty.  I'll be back in a bit." 

Steve figured that he might be able to return one shower cap.  
Probably not, but why break open the package?  He took the cap 
Shannon had worn.  His watch was waterproof, but he wasn't going 
to test it by wearing it in the shower.  He looked at the time 
when he took it off.  Not yet twelve; plenty of time.  He handed 
the watch to Shannon.  He was getting chilly; he hurried into the 
bathroom, which was warmer and still a little steamy. 

Shannon couldn't figure out why he'd given her the watch.  Did 
she need to get up now?  No.  It wasn't noon yet.  She put the 
watch on the nightstand and burrowed deeper into the bed.  It was 
warm, though not as warm as it had been when Steve was there.  
He'd let her share his warmth, even though he'd shivered.  That 
was nothing compared to what she'd felt earlier this morning.  
Steve could make her feel glorious, and then he could make her 
feel comfortable.  She looked forward to his coming back.  Should 
she give in to her parents?  Would that mean more time feeling 
comfortable with Steve?  More time feeling glorious with Steve? 

The problem was that she couldn't tell what they really wanted.  
Well, they really wanted her to not have met with Steve all those 
babysitting nights, but that wasn't possible now -- even if she 
had been willing.  And there wasn't all that much chance of 
having him over in the future -- she'd built the business back up 
once, she didn't see much possibility of building it back up 
again with September looming ahead.  Parents wanted a babysitter 
who was going to become a regular part of their kids' lives.  
Anyway, her mom was holding enough money for her that she didn't 
need to work before going away to school. 

The trouble was that what she wanted was the exact opposite of 
what they wanted.  Sure, she wanted to have some time hanging out 
with her friends.  And her parents would give her that once they 
got their revenge.  But she *really* wanted time like this with 
Steve, and that is what they objected to in the first place.  So, 
her only choice was being sneaky; she'd just have to figure out 
how.  In the summer, her mom wouldn't be able to watch her, and 
there was that lovely field they'd already shared.  She wasn't 
willing to wait that long, though. 

Steve came back.  *He* was wearing a towel around his waist. He 
took it off and draped it over a chair before climbing into bed. 

"I'm still a little cold," he said.  He stayed on his own side.  
Thoughtful. 

She leaned over so her head was on his pillow and her mouth right 
next to his.  "Keep your hands to yourself," she said.  She 
kissed him.  His lips were a little cool, but his tongue was 
warm. 

And the kiss was delightful.  When she broke it, she rolled over 
against him.  She pulled the covers from between them.  His skin 
was still cool, but the contact made her warm.  He hugged her 
very gently.  She remembered to give him back his watch, and he 
strapped it on.  Then he held her again. 

After a couple of minutes, Shannon felt warmer than before.  This 
was definitely an enjoyable feeling.  Steve's hand went to her 
belly.  She could feel his thing firming against her butt.  Was 
he insatiable?  Still, she had promised herself that she wouldn't 
say no to him. 

"Steve," she asked, "do you want to do it again?" 

He doubted that he could get it up again.  Was the girl 
insatiable?  "I don't think we have time." 

Good!   "I don't think we do either.  What time is it?" 

"Twenty 'til." 

"Shouldn't we get dressed?" 

Well, he thought, there were all sorts of reasons she shouldn't. 

But there was one overwhelming reason they both should.  He got 
up and started to pull on his underwear.  He watched as she 
dressed.  Seeing the clothes go on was almost as good as seeing 
them come off. 

"I'll clean up," he said.  "You check to make sure I do a 
thorough job." She checked carefully to see that he had 
everything back in the suitcase and that all the wrappings from 
the condoms went in the wastebasket in the bathroom.  She brought 
him his towel. 

They had minutes to spare when they had closed the door and put 
the suitcase in the trunk.  There were people ahead of Steve in 
the office, though.  He was prepared to argue that he had been in 
line at checkout time, but the guy never raised the question. 
"Halves?" he reminded Shannon when he got behind the wheel.  
Somehow, the question seemed less important than it had seemed 
beforehand. 

"Halves," she agreed.  "But don't give me any coins." 

"We still have a little time.  Do you want to have lunch?" 

She agreed.  They sat in a diner, neither willing to discuss the 
only thing on their minds in the presence of strangers.  Steve 
was afraid Shannon would insist on paying for her own lunch, but 
she didn't raise the subject. 

Once in the car, he headed towards the high school.  "Should I 
drop you off outside the high school, or closer to home?" 

"Two blocks from home.  If Mom is waiting at the school, missing 
me would be suspicious, but not near as suspicious as seeing your 
car drop me off.  And there is no sense risking some kid's seeing 
us and guessing everything." 

"I'll bet Ken knows." 

"Will he talk?" 

"Ken?  His left hand is lucky when it knows what his right hand 
is doing.  His idea of social conversation is about Abelian 
groups.  It can be annoying at times, but I'll forgive him 
everything if he keeps talking about Abelian groups until 
graduation." 

"Never talked about them with me." 

"Ken doesn't relax with most kids.  Look, enough about Ken.  I 
love you.  I want to do this again.  Not the motel, exactly, but 
the rest." 

"I do, too." There, she had admitted it. 

"Really?" Steve grinned.  "We'll have to find a way." 

She really did.  "Do you think I should give in to my parents?" 

"Well....  That's really your decision, but...." 

"But you think I should." 

"Look, it's seven months." 

"And I can stand anything for seven months?" 

"Given the alternatives, yes." 

"And in seven months we'll be on the same campus.  Can you wait 
seven months?" The look on his face showed he couldn't imagine 
it.  She looked out the windshield.  "Turn in here." 

"It's a dead end." 

"Yep.  I can walk from here, and nobody we know is likely to turn 
in here." 

"Look.  It's your decision.  It always was.  You asked what I 
thought; I told you what I think." 

"And I said that it was easier when someone else is doing the 
giving up.  Look, I want to do this again -- the field this 
summer, but before that, too.  I just don't know how." 

"They're your family.  I don't know them.  You'll have to decide. 
I'll back you." 

"Oh, Steve.  You're sweet." She kissed him and opened her door.  
"I'll see you.  In school if nowhere else.  Don't drive off for a 
minute." She closed the door and walked briskly away.  She wasn't 
going to turn and look; if she did, she wasn't sure she could 
keep going. 

And she had to keep going.  Would her mom go to the school?  For 
that matter, would her mom take one look at her and guess?  She 
hadn't looked any different in the mirror; she had known girls 
who had done it, and they didn't look different.  Still, her mom 
sometimes knew things without any evidence, and then -- too -- 
sometimes her mom didn't see things which were painfully clear. 

She *was* different now, whether she looked different or not.  
She was a woman, now.  Not a good girl, not any kind of a girl.  
And she had a man, odd as it was to think of Steve as her man.  
Would he still keep liking her?  The rest of this year, sure.  
Steve had wanted her for a year, now, and he had her.  But she 
was going to go to the U of I to be with Steve.  Would he be with 
her there? 

Steve wasn't the sort to take a girl and look for his next 
target.  She knew he wasn't planning to dump her.  But the future 
looked cloudier than it had looked in a long while.  It would 
really be a waste, too.  When he was inside her, she'd felt 
something.  It hadn't been what he'd obviously been feeling above 
her, it hadn't been what she had felt under his hand or his 
mouth.  But it had been a beginning.  She was sure that she would 
go on to a climax if they kept doing it. 

That was the hard part, finding a way to keep doing it. 

Steve watched her walk away.  He'd get the suitcase into the 
house and go pick up his mom.  That was the easy part.  Getting 
through the next months would be the hard part.  He loved her, 
more than ever after this afternoon. 

Would they be a couple?  Soon they would leave high school.  Not 
soon enough, he'd thought yesterday.  But in high school, they'd 
been a recognized couple.  Leaving him would have wrenched 
Shannon's identity.  Soon they would be going to a big 
University.  Would Shannon want to be a couple with an 
insignificant freshman?  Would she stick with him?


The End
Heart Ball
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2003/02/14
2010/02/16