Walking across the slushy sidewalk, Carolyn Nolan Pierce had a new appreciation for the custom of June weddings. As a February bride, her calves were freezing and her ankles were worse. Cold water was trickling down into her shoes from her ankles. Soon, though, she was upstairs in the apartment. As soon as Bill had hung up their coats and given her a kiss, he disappeared into the bedroom. She eased her shoes off.

"Ruined," she told Bill. "And only worn once."

"Would you have worn them again?" He was being practical again.

"Satin heels? I doubt it. Still, you want the costume to show your daughter." Did she? Would she have a daughter, any child? They had agreed on one child when her employment was permanent. She realized, as Bill probably did not, all the bridges an academic economist had to cross before she got to permanent employment.

"Well, if you come in where it is warmer, I'll be very careful of the rest while I'm taking it off." Well, as many problems as they had taken on in this marriage, Bill had his eye on the part that they did right. She matched his evil chuckle.

And he'd turned on the space heater in the bedroom. The apartment wasn't really warm enough for nudism. Bill, who wanted her naked, was eager to keep her comfortable while he stripped her. The room wasn't warm yet, but she'd be comfortable standing in front of the heater. After another kiss, he carefully removed the dress. The closet was already crowded, even though she still had clothes in her room at the residence hall. Finally, Bill hung the dress on the outside of the closet door.

"I wonder if Gladys would have space for it," she mused, "until we get a larger apartment." But this was her wedding night, not a great time for practical plans. "Here." If he was going to strip her, she was going to strip him. She took his fancy jacket.

"Toss that anywhere," Bill said. "It's rented, and I'm not saving it to show my daughter." She put it on top of his dresser. Then he removed her slip and hung it up.

The bow tie was a problem, and bill groped her while she was figuring it out.

"You're not helping at all." He grinned -- maybe leered. She tossed the bow tie on the dresser before he came into her arms for another kiss. Though he hadn't helped her with the tie, she brought her shoulders back while he unsnapped the bra during the kiss. She was awfully far along, though, while he was practically fully dressed. The kiss part had been fun, but being pressed against the heavily-starched shirt hadn't been.

"Somehow," she commented, "men wear more pieces of clothing in fancy dress." They'd played this game before -- each removing a piece of clothing from the other -- and it had been fairly equal in result.

"And you haven't even started on the studs."

"Oh, no. The shirt is one piece of clothing." And she wasn't going to suffer another hug against its starchiness.

"Deal, I'll even take it off myself." He kissed her breasts the whole time he was dismantling the fancy dress-shirt contraption. He so obviously pictured himself tanking advantage of her that she made a token protest to play along. Actually, his willingness to kiss -- enthusiasm for kissing -- her breasts was one of his better points. If he would use his mouth only for kissing, she'd lose all her doubts about this marriage.

The kiss when he'd stripped off shirt and T-shirt was much better. Their tongues caressed each other while his chest was warm and hairy against her breasts. He kneaded her ass. Her legs, though, were still meeting cloth. Even her stomach was pressed against a belt buckle. She reached for it.

"Shoes first." Well, at least he'd used the plural. She dropped down and removed his shoes and then his socks. She rose for another kiss with all the warmth of his chest against her breasts, his tongue within her mouth, and his hands stroking her ass.

His next move, though, left her essentially naked while he was still wearing his pants. He pushed her panties down, and then knelt on the floor to take them to her ankles. When she'd stepped out of them, leaving her in only her stockings, he pulled her forward to kiss her delta. She was already aroused, and that kiss -- along with his hands clutching her bare ass -- turned that arousal up a notch or two.

And she wasn't the only one aroused. When she finally removed his pants, Little Bill was peeking out of the fly in the boxers. Bill, who wasn't at all bashful about prancing around totally nude, slipped him inside instantly. He left her then to pull the covers off the foot of the bed. He led her over. Well, sitting down would be much better for taking off the stockings. The bed, on the other hand, was cool under her ass.

Bill's hand on her leg was warm, though, and so was his mouth on her thigh. He stopped to stand up and drop her stocking on the chair.

"My turn." She carefully moved the boxers around Little Bill and down to his ankles. Then he knelt again to remove the last stocking. His kiss on her right thigh was even sexier than his kiss on her left one had been. As she lay down, his kisses strayed further. All of them were sexy, though. He kissed her stomach, ending up with a very ticklish exploration of her belly button.

"Bill!"

"Yeah," he joked. "Who did you expect to kiss you there tonight?" He got up, though. He had to walk around the end of the bed to get to his side. Before getting into bed, he opened the drawer for his contraceptive.

"You won't need that." Her surprise for this night. "I'm on the Pill." He gave her a grin, and Little Bill actually bobbed up at the news.

"Darling!" Was his only verbal response, but his kiss was hot and his hand stroked down to her mound. Mr. Foreplay was still in control, even in marriage and with the prospect of bare intercourse. the kiss went on and on while he stroked her cleft and her clit. He didn't even break the kiss when she flew.

Afterwards, she was gasping, and he left her mouth to kiss down her neck, across her chest and up her left breast. He stoked his finger higher and higher in her cleft, but stopped just short of her clit. When his mouth reached her nipple, his finger reached her clit. The sensations were exquisite, and she lay there and reveled in them for a minute. As her arousal grew, however, she couldn't keep her hips still. She undulated under his hand, and she felt his mouth on her breast tighten in a grin. She was close.

Bill got on top. She reached for Little Bill to put him in. He cooperated until he was just at the entrance. Then he stopped while her center was rising up towards him.

"Carolyn, darling." Then he was parting her lips, stretching her, filling. His penis was warmer than it had ever felt before, a little less slippery. She could tell that it was Bill that she was feeling.

"Yes." This was what she wanted. This was why she'd married him. This was bliss. And it was even greater bliss when he began his motions. He filled her as she rose up to get all of it in. Then, he retreated to her entrance as she sank back. They were moving in synch as her arousal spiraled upward. Then she flew.

"Bill," she called. And he answered her by thrusting to fill her totally and then throbbing in her depths. He was a darling, her darling. As the tension passed, he lay on top of her with his head resting on hers. He was heavy, but he was sexier than he was heavy. Then, he got up and fixed the things they'd neglected in their passion. He covered her and turned off the heater and turned on the lamp.

He went to the john. When he came back, she followed. The Pill hadn't been great for her digestion, but it made bed preparations a little simpler. When she came back, though, she discovered one new problem, a wide wet spot. His contraceptives no longer captured his stuff. She solved that by lying closer to the middle than the spot was.

"I love you, Mrs. Pierce." Bill wasn't going to question her being on his side of the bed.

"Y'know," she responded, "married sex is much more exciting than its reputation." Indeed, this had been one of the most exciting times of their relationship. He laughed, and seeing the humor in her response, she laughed, too. She snuggle back against him. With a warm Bill on her back and a warm blanket on her front, she drifted off to sleep feeling toasty.

"Good morning, Mrs. Pierce," Bill said after he'd woken her with his morning contortions. She let him readjust the spoon.

"I am, aren't I? The wedding finally happened." Now, nothing to worry about but making the marriage work. That couldn't be as hard as all the rigamarole of the last month.

"It finally happened, and it's Sunday. We can do anything we want for hours." Well, not if he wanted a dry bed, they couldn't.

"But first..." She did her morning chores while shivering, and rushed back to bed.

"It's chilly out there," she told him. And he was nice and warm. That comfort wasn't permanent, though. He soon went off to do his own morning chores. One of them was a great improvement, though. "Smooth," she said when he rubbed his shaven cheek on her skin. She'd gone back to her own side while he was away -- it got her further under the warmth from the electric blanket -- and he had to lie in the middle to hug her.

"Ihm hm. Smooth for you." He was doing more than hugging. His hand was cuddling her breast and his penis was pressed against her ass. Nothing to worry about there. Since she was on the Pill, there were no limits she had to set. She pushed her ass back against him. But there were other things to worry about. This was Sunday, and everybody would jump to conclusions if they were late to church on the morning after their wedding. She didn't mind gossip, but she minded accurate gossip.

"What time is it, anyway?" she asked.

"A little after 6. I never reset the alarm. I sometimes hit the snooze button and get lots of naps on a Sunday." She knew most of that.

"So we could sleep in?"

"Go right ahead. I'll wake you in plenty of time." Bill obviously wasn't thinking about sleep -- "in" maybe, but not sleep. He was playing with her nipple, and Little Bill was feeling firmer.

"Y'know, you really aren't helping." Not that she was still eager to go back to sleep herself.

"Sure I am. Go to sleep, relax in my arms." Right! She could really relax with him tweaking her nipples. And Little Bill wasn't relaxing either. She shifted her ass around until is was lying along the crack. Well, if Bill wanted to do more, she was willing. If not, a make-out session was fine, too. He kissed her back some more and moved his hand to her mound. Soon, he was rubbing her lower lips against each other. Even when he finally drew his finger along the bottom of her cleft, he moved slowly and mostly avoided her clit.

"Am I disturbing your snooze?" As if he couldn't tell. Well, two could play that game.

"Unh unh. I'm already asleep and having a really sexy dream." He responded by finally getting serious about stroking her clit. But she decided that Mr. Foreplay wasn't enough this morning. She wanted her husband in her.

"No." She moved his hand out of the way so she could reach between her legs to his penis "You." He cooperated as she grasped him. "In." She moved his penis to her entrance. They both moved so that he was in her. This was the way to sleep! And, thinking that, she gave a snore as she brought his hand back where it belonged.

Moved slowly in and out while he brushed his finger over the tip of her clit. She matched his movements. Somehow, these caresses, which should have excited her, soothed her instead. She wasn't really asleep, but she was more relaxed than she'd ever been during sex.

Even when she flew, her convulsions were confined to her crutch area. And, before she was done, he was throbbing in her. They relaxed together. His hand came up to her breast. His breath was hot and labored against the back of her neck. Then it was gentler.

When his churning around in the bed woke her, she was certain that it was late.

"What time is it?" she asked

"Eight fifteen. Want to sleep some more?" That wasn't a bad idea, but no.

"Need to shower. I was going to cook you a fancy breakfast for your first morning of married life."

"I really think we celebrated more appropriately. Want to shower together?" Bill had his priorities, and they were nice priorities, usually. But he didn't have Miss Armbruster to contend with.

"Have things to do this morning, after all. How about sharing a shower tomorrow morning?"

"Deal," he said. She took her robe and headed for the shower. Maybe this morning had been the style of married sex. It had certainly been less exciting than the previous night. But it had been very satisfying, never the less. And very comforting. For all her joking, it had been close to a sexy dream.

"Eggs?" he asked when she got out. But it felt even cooler with her skin damp and after the warm shower. Bill didn't seem to have any sensation of cold.

"Dress first. It's chilly." And he, who had presumably cooked and eaten his breakfast in just his robe, came in to put on last night's underwear or -- more likely -- to watch her dress.

"Do you own slippers?" he asked. He had been wearing slippers, if little else.

"At the residence hall." Since they were having a conversation, "Look, do I get any privacy for dressing?"

"Don't married couples normally dress in the same place?" Well, yes. And if she'd thought he was concentrating on his clothes, it wouldn't have bothered her. On the other hand, could she object to his thinking of her as sexual desirable? Did she want him to think of her as not worth watching? Sometimes yes, and sometimes no. But she knew that wasn't a reasonable request.

"I suppose so. I'm still new to this, though."

"Fair enough. Ask, and I'll defer to your modesty." And that, of course, was the problem. She wanted him leering at her as she undressed when they were going to end up in bed; she didn't want him leering at her as she dressed when they were going to end up going out the door to church.

"Eggs?" he asked when she was nearly dressed.

"Please." He went to cook -- cook for both of them, to her surprise.

"You didn't eat?"

"I preferred the company," he said. "It's our first day as a married couple, after all."

"And I should have cooked for you." He was so demandingly macho so much of the time. Then he would cook breakfast -- seemed to expect to cook breakfast most of the time.

"Do it Tuesday. We still haven't stocked up the larder with what your cooking will require."

"Why not Monday?"

"Showering together might take too much time." That was pure Bill. She'd said she'd try sharing a shower Monday, and he wasn't going to brook any delay.

"You have your priorities, don't you?"

"Yep." He wasn't denying the accusation. He didn't even seem to see the accusation.

Everybody in choir was complimentary about the wedding and the reception.

Well, if Bill was going to cook breakfast, she would match him. They stopped at a grocery store and got things to cook a fast-but-good meal. After checking that he ate dark meat, she decided on drumstick barbecue. He'd eat a balanced meal when it was placed before him. The canned peaches would do for dessert for several days, and she put some of the drumsticks in the freezer for a later meal. He washed dishes after, and she dried.

He wanted to get the budget out of the way right then. She could understand the urgency before the wedding, although she'd called hat off. If they couldn't afford to get married, they maybe shouldn't. (Although she suspected that the typical couple walking down the aisle was one that couldn't afford to get married.)

"I haven't figured out the food budget yet," she confessed. That would require some planning for what was going to be a 'typical' week of cooking. Then she'd have to figure out staples and spend some time in grocery stores. Still, that wasn't her real worry. If she were going to study at home, she'd need study space at home. And the kitchen table wouldn't be enough.

"The grocery budget. We're going to spend more on eating out. You really get by on that little for clothes? Remember that your nice coat was a gift from your parents." He was off on a minor point, but -- at least -- he was calling her figures too small instead of too large. Well, now she wasn't keeping the Pill secret. She could mention that in justifying the incidentals. That figure looked surprisingly large to her.

"As long as I'm a student, I can. If I need more for teaching, we'll get more from my teaching paycheck." Well, he wasn't going to get to the crunch matter by intuition. She had to get it out in the open. "Look, you've been researching apartment rentals?"

"Only in the ads. It gives you a picture."

"And you really want me to spend next year on the dissertation and not get a teaching job?"

"That would be best for your future, wouldn't it." Well, it would be. Bill, after all, understood investment in the future, and he had accepted that her academic career was her future instead of a whim.

"Maybe it would be better to look for two-bedroom apartments."

"No." Well that was decisive. He wasn't even asking why.

"But I'll need somewhere to work. This table is fine for writing a term paper, but even here I spread out. I'll need some sort of desk and walls where I can stick things. And just where do you think we can put my books? The living room is already unusable for company. And..."

"All right." And that was equally decisive. But the only study room for rent would be in a two-bedroom apartment.

"Huh?"

"You can have an office -- an office without a bed in it. You sleep in my arms every night." He still had his priorities, She should never forget that about Bill. Should she bring up all-nighters? But there were other problems with his possessiveness.

"That's what you were worried about?"

"That's what I wanted to make clear." And Mr. Macho was simply laying down the law. This man didn't believe in negotiation, much less family meetings to make decisions. "There is a bottom line. You have to work, and that takes you away from me. For that matter, my work takes me away from you. But you don't get a place to run away from me. The damn library closes at night."

"In your arms, fine. But we don't have sex during my periods." Two of them could play the ultimatum game. "That's final."

"Okay. Keep your damn squeamishness. But only really during your period. You don't turn me down because you're mad at me." Well, he was seeing her and raising in the ultimatum game. The man had a natural talent for it. Well, she had a right to say no. On the other hand, she'd sort of agreed to sex with him in the service yesterday, although they'd used euphemisms. And, she might want to enforce the same claim.

"Bill, if I were to abstain from sex when I'm mad at you, I'd have to join a convent."

"Okay, but I haven't been looking at two-bedroom apartments. We can't finish the budget today. I'll get a Trib tomorrow. Maybe a Review, too." Maybe they had fewer fights than she'd counted. She had damn-well been having a fight then. Apparently, he'd just been settling some details about the apartment search and the budget.