Marilyn Grant felt better riding up from Champaign in May of '77 than she'd felt at the end of a school year since her freshman year in high school. And this was looking ahead while that had been relief at the year's ending. The drive up from Champaign was delightful. She and Andy talked of their immediate future and their past two years. When they were silent, it was a comfortable silence.

Different as they were, the two of them had both been successes in their sophomore years. Andy, while he wouldn't say it before he got the grades in black and white, was likely to be on the dean's list for his third straight semester. Her grades, if not likely to be as good, would probably keep Dad satisfied and make her transcript acceptable to any school board thinking of hiring her. If she hadn't quite been a leader of her sorority, she was accepted as a leader of her year in the sorority.

And, together, they were a little more than that. At First Urbana, they were "that nice young college couple." From the dismay her dating of Andy had caused some seniors her first semester, the consensus of the sorority had moved to approval and -- in some cases -- admiration. She'd been the shoulder to cry on for enough girls dumped, wronged, suspicious, or needing a ride because their date was too drunk to drive, that the very stability of her relationship had become a cause for comfort. And the girls Andy had tutored were his fan club.

Andy, as usual, backed into the driveway of her house. When she got out, he got out, too, and opened the trunk. He carried her luggage up to the porch. When she got the door open, he carried it inside and put it down at the foot of the stairs.

She was up two stairs and deep into a kiss when she heard Mom's voice.

"Marilyn!" Andy immediately dropped the hands that had been cupping her ass.

"Yeah. Later. I'm busy now." She went back to the kiss. Andy shared his tongue if his hands weren't anywhere near her.

"Is that Andy?" Whom did Mom think it would be?

"Yes, Mrs. Grant. Hello. I brought Marilyn home." Andy would answer politely, even when Mom was being terribly rude, like now.

"Come upstairs now." Well, she was home, now.

"Love you," Andy whispered as he turned towards the open door.

"I love you, too," she said loud enough for Mom to hear. When Andy closed the door behind him, though, she went up.

"Really, dear, I'd have been glad to pick you up at the train station."

"Didn't go anywhere near it. Andy drove me up from campus."

"Really! I don't want you acting like a married couple." Mom especially didn't want her acting like a married couple in bed, she'd bet. Too bad, Mom, that bridge had already been crossed -- not that Andy and she had ever been in an actual bed together.

"Well, Mom, we aren't married. Honestly, we'd have sent you an invitation."

"Well, I meant..."

"We are, however, a couple. You don't like that. Fine! I don't remember asking your opinion. But your not liking it doesn't make it any less so."

"I only meant..."

"So, we are a couple, and we are going to behave like a couple. You might disapprove, but I approve, and that's how I'm going to behave."

"You say you aren't married. Are you planning on it?"

"He hasn't asked me yet." She'd not even told her friends about Andy's blurting out that he wanted to marry her. She sure wasn't going to tell this enemy. "If he does, I'll have to figure out my response." She sure wasn't ready to be a married woman, tempting as a shared bedroom might look.

"I just don't want you locking yourself down."

"I'm not. I'm dating the man I want to date. What bothers you is that I'm not locking myself to your opinions."

"And what does your chapter think of Andy?"

"It depends. The only member who matters in my choice of date is in love with him. Most of the rest think he's a great guy; some think that more than others. Isn't that always the case?"

"I can't believe that your friends like him that much. I don't know, he's ..."

"They're younger than you are. They see a man. You see that he's not an old man like Dad. Well, I don't want to marry an old man.... And, no, that doesn't mean that I've decided to marry Andy. That means that I don't want to date an old man, either."

"I don't know. Sometimes he looks like an old man to me -- acts like an old man, at least."

"That's just because he's always polite to you. You think, although you aren't ever polite to him, that politeness is a sign of old age."

"Well... Are you going to leave your bags down there?"

"I came up because you told me to. I'll take care of the bags now. 'Welcome home Marilyn.'"

"Well, you are welcome." Mostly, though, she was home -- home where she was expected to tote her own bags, which was fair. What wasn't fair was tearing into the guy who was willing to tote them for her.

At dinner, she lay down the law to Dad: "I'm still dating Andy. You don't have to like it. I'm setting my own hours. As long as I get in for breakfast, you have no grounds for complaints."

"And if you're not down for breakfast?" Summer times, she often wasn't. She wouldn't go out that late with Andy, though. The poor guy still had a job to go to.

"Mom can look in."

"Can I look in?" asked Pete the pervert.

"You put a hand on the door to my room and I'll chop it off."

"Really, you two." Mom didn't like the hostility to be expressed. "First of all, Pete, no you can't look in. It's Marilyn's room, and she doesn't want you in it." Of course, it was her room when Mom wanted to come in, too. But her desires didn't count, then. "That doesn't mean that breakfast time is a reasonable curfew."

"Didn't claim that it was. A curfew at my age is ridiculous. It's just the time by which I'm voluntarily offering to come back."

"Now, Marilyn..." Dad trailed off, probably because there was no reasonable answer to her statement.

"Really, Rick," Mom said to Dad, "she said the same last year, and she never came back later than she did after Prom -- not as late. Don't lay down the law, or the little fool will stay out all night -- probably in the garage while Andy goes home for a good night's sleep."

"Right. Breakfast isn't when I expect to come home. Breakfast is the time I expect to be home before without any challenges." Her English teachers would circle that sentence in red. Tough! She got into the field because she loved Lit, not because she liked grammer.

"Dear," Mom said. "You do make it sound as though you were sleeping with this boy, and you deliberately make it sound like that."

"Well, not deliberately, and it only sounds like that to prurient ears. I'd never imply anything like that while this pervert was listening." She gestured toward Pete.

"But you're not saying that you aren't." said Pete.

"I'm never going to say whether I have sex with anybody when you're around, not even after I'm married. If I say that I'm not, then that implies that you have the right to know whether I am. And you definitely don't. I won't even tell you whether I'm having sex this very minute." Pete ostentatiously looked under the table cloth.

"Can we change the subject?" Dad asked.

"Choose another."

"How do you think your grades went?"

"Well, we'll learn soon enough. I'm hopeful, and I feel that I actually learned something in each of my courses. The real Ed courses actually begin next year. This year was mostly preparatory knowledge."

"And Zeta?" Mom asked.

"Fine. I wrote you that we got 16 pledges. Well, half the bids that went to girls I talked to were accepted; only a third of the ones that went to girls I didn't talk to were. Nobody quit on us, and the next year, as far as anyone can tell, looks good. I still love my little sister." As opposed to her little brother, whom she hated.

Sunday, when she and her family got to church, Andy was half-way down the stairs with a toddler in each hand.

"The Pierce twins," he explained. She would have guessed that from their likeness in size. She'd last seen them at Christmas time, but they'd grown so much that memory wasn't much help. "Wait for me in our pew, will you?"

"Of course." When he came in, they sat with their hips touching, as usual. After church was coffee hour. The kids back from college gathered at two tables and exchanged news. They all treated Andy and her as a couple.

"Think you can make it in at 8:45 tomorrow, Andy?" Mr. Schmidt asked Andy as he went out.

"Of course."

"And here, my dear, is a worse sucker than I am," Mr. Pierce said from behind her.

"Not by one percent," Andy replied. "I walked the twins up and down twice. How many trips have you made with kids who wanted to climb stairs?"

"You have to understand, Andy," said Mrs. Pierce, "that being one percent as much of a sucker as Bill still makes you a huge sucker."

Mr. Pierce left for their car while the girls in the crowd exclaimed on how cute the twins were. The group dwindled as individuals left.

"Are you riding with us, Miss Grant? Are you ready to go?" Andy's dad asked.

"Certainly."

"Do you think you'd like to repeat the seating arrangement with my daughters when they are here later this summer?" She looked at Andy, who nodded.

"Sure," she said. His dad handed Andy the car keys. While he was getting the car, they went out.

"And how did your last year go?" Mr. Trainor asked her.

"Well, fall semester, I got 2 A s and 3 B s, including Phys Ed. This semester, I don't know yet, of course, but I learned something in all the classes."

"And, while both of you will need good transcripts two years from now -- maybe for some years thereafter -- that's the question which will matter for your life after that. Not how high were your grades, but how much do you know?"

"Y'know, it's more than the height. I mean..."

"You think I've had a little influence on my son?"

"A lot of influence."

"Well, don't tell him that. He's establishing his own identity. The first stage of that is that he's not Jim Trainor. And, of course, he isn't. Some day, he'll have the judgment to avoid my mistakes without avoiding everything I am. This ain't the day, or -- even -- the year. I'm a moderately successful banker. He'll never be that, nor -- thankfully -- an unsuccessful one. He'll be an engineer, probably a competent one. You can't tell this early, of course, but he's competent on all that sort of stuff. The only question in my head is whether he'll be happy being one." At this point, Andy drove up. He got out of the car, but his dad opened the front passenger-side door for her. Then he got in the back.

"Take Miss Grant home first. We're going to a restaurant. I'm sorry, my dear. You'd be welcome to accompany us, but your parents would have objections -- deservedly so -- on your first Sunday back from school."

Well, she could hardly invite herself along. Andy drove to her house and backed into her driveway as usual.

"Backing in?" his dad asked.

"Gets Marilyn closer to the door." So that's why Andy did that. He was so considerate.

"Really dear," Mom said at dinner, "must you two sit so close together in church."

"You know, Andy's dad wanted him to go to church. When he learned that he was going to sit with me in church, he thanked me for his being in church." And she reminded herself to tell Mr. Trainor that they went to church in Urbana when they were in school. He'd be pleased. "When we sat together in church, you complained. Now you complain of the way that we sit together in church. I haven't heard one word about being the only one of your children that does go to church."

"We've hashed that out earlier."

"I believe it. But notice. There might have been a ton of 'Bad Pete; you don't go to church the way we raised you.' There hasn't been one word of 'Good Marilyn; you go to church nearly every Sunday.'"

"Do you go on campus?" Pete asked.

"Depends on what you mean by 'on campus.' We go from campus nearly every week when we're down there. We've been attending First Urbana, which is a fair drive from the campus."

"Honestly! I thought you'd grown up."

"You thought both of us had grown up. You were right about me. Sure, 'you can't make me go to church' is a stage towards independence, but look at that congregation some time. Most of the people in the sanctuary are adults."

"Old and stodgy -- sexless."

"Well, you want to be grown up. The next stage is getting old. And, while I hate to tell you this, those kids running around after church don't all come from virgin births. I think some of those couples are plainly having sex."

"Now, Marilyn," Dad said. He might be worried that she would point out that he and Mom had had sex at least twice. He needn't worry. They were old and stodgy, but she didn't believe that they'd stopped. Mom was still on the Pill.

Mom put her and Pete to clearing the table and running the dishwasher.

"You and this Andy guy look like this." Pete crossed his fingers. "Mom doesn't seem happy."

"Neither of them is happy. I really don't think Dad has anything against Andy except that he's dating me. Does Mom ever go off on your girlfriends?"

"Once. She thought Linda was cheap."

"Haven't heard about her."

"Last year. Maybe October and November."

"And was she?"

"She dressed like she was open to anything, sexiest dresser in the class. She wouldn't let me below the waist, though, let alone in her. Reason we broke up."

"Y'know, Pete. Girls, women, are people with vaginas. Boys who think of them as vaginas with people attached show it. That tends to turn the people off."

"And Andy never tried to get in you?"

"How far I've gone with Andy I'm not going to tell you. I will tell you, though, that he never said 'give me this or I'm going after another girl.' Andy always treated me as a person." She remembered that, after he'd got in her vagina, reached Pete's final goal, he kept kissing more of her. Maybe she didn't want him kissing her dirty feet, but she sure appreciated him wanting to kiss them.

"And he never got any from you. You don't push, you don't get."

"Maybe so." Pete looked surprised at her agreement. "If the girl doesn't want you, if you haven't anything desirable, then grabbing is the best chance -- because it's the only chance -- you have. If the man is desirable, then he has the woman's desires working for him."

"You're saying that this Andy character is more desirable than I am? To you maybe."

"To me, certainly." The washer was loaded, but she wanted to make this point. This was the most serious conversation she'd had with Pete in years. "As for other girls, I'm not saying that; you are."

"I'm not! He's a nerd."

"But he can wait until his girl will enjoy something, too. We do, you know. Way back when I was in high school -- when I was years younger than you are now -- we used to talk about boys and what they wanted. There was the boy who wanted to feel your tit because he wanted to feel a tit and he thought yours was available. There was the boy who wanted to feel your tit because then he could tell his friends he had. Well, how do you think that made girls feel? Leaving aside that they were getting talked about all over school.

"Look," she continued, "sometimes girls who have broken up with their boy friends desperately want a date to the next dance. Any date will do, but they have to go to the next dance with a date. How does it make you feel if you know a girl will only go with you because she desperately wants some date?"

"You want to know? It makes me feel that I should get something out of it."

"So, you're willing to be used if you get to use in return? Well, girls feel used when a boy wants something from them just so he can get that thing. If the boy strokes the girl's tit because it sends tingles up and down her spine, that's love, and she loves him. If he strokes her tit because he wants the feel of some woman's tit, that's selfishness, and she resents him."

"You're dragging emotions into this."

"No, I'm not dragging them in. Emotions are part of this. Really, this is part of emotions. When you feel more deeply about one person than you've ever felt about anybody else and he feels more deeply about you, then it's natural to express it in a way that you have never expressed it with anybody else. Maybe you don't, but it's natural to do so, and you -- at least -- think about it. Maybe you do something you've never done before but isn't sexual at all; maybe you sit in church beside him."

She poured the detergent powder into the dispenser and closed the machine. She checked the dials and pushed the button. "But, Pete," she said before the machine got too loud for their conversation to be kept private, "whenever the emotional is there, the physical is something you have to consider. It might not happen, but it's appropriate."

They went their separate ways.

Monday, Andy called. His day off this week was Thursday, and they didn't want to wait that long. They made a date for Tuesday after dinner.

"Want to see the movie?" he asked when they were in the car and rolling.

"Not really."

"You are the cheapest date."

"Andy, don't talk like that." His expression was shocked. "I know you were joking. You just drove me hundreds of miles, and bought me food along the way."

"Well, I was going anyway."

"Well, you've done loads of things for me. If you'd been asked to put a price on that tutoring, something you didn't consider doing for the money it would bring, it would have been many dollars an hour. Instead, you did it for me, a favor for a group which hasn't always been kind to you because that group is important to me.

"It's just that," she continued, "I've been talking to Pete. He's all about what he can get from a girl. Apparently, he can get damn little. I explained to him that emotional commitment is important. If he and the girl love one another, then what they do expresses that love. If he is out to exploit the girl, then every step they take makes her feel more exploited."

"Sincerity is everything. If you can fake that, you can get anything." That sounded odd coming from Andy.

"What?"

"Old joke. What your brother wants is sex. You tell him he can get it if he feels love. But he doesn't feel love; he feels desire. What you feel can't be controlled. For that matter, I don't 'feel love.' I love Marilyn. If Dad had moved us somewhere else, I wouldn't be feeling love." In the middle of this speech, he'd parked, but he didn't make any motion towards the back seat.

"Andy, I love you."

"And I love you. The problem is that this is a deeper emotion than I've ever before expressed as 'love.'"

"Yeah." She got out of the car first. Andy had parked on the wrong side of the road, and she could hear him bushing through the shrubbery to get in back. He was so damn considerate, always thinking of her.

She did love Andy more than she'd ever loved Colin, but she suspected that her difference in intensity was nothing like Andy's. If they'd never met, she would be involved -- she was all but certain -- in another affair with another boy. Sure, she was glad it was Andy, but she would never have said that she wouldn't be feeling love if he hadn't come along.

Well, Andy wanted her. It would be silly to deny him what she would give another simply because her love for him -- while greater than her love for the possible other -- didn't measure up to his love for her. While she was thinking this, she pulled off her blouse and bra and lowered her jeans to her ankles. She didn't have any panties to worry about.

He helped her up on his lap sitting sideways. They shared a sweet kiss before he put his hands below her neck. She spread her knees when his hands started stroking her pussy.

He kissed her again, then started a chain of gentle kisses down the front of her neck from the chin to the breastbone. He continued down her right tit quite slowly. When he reached the nipple, he licked and sucked it while her arousal grew. He put one finger, and then two, inside her pussy. She could feel him all the way up.

When he withdrew them, he stroked the entire length of one across her clit. The lightning struck. She felt herself tremble in his arms and convulse inside. He stroked her clit and sucked her nipple again.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said when he'd raised his head. "Oh, darling. Oh, sweet. I love you so." She pulled against his leg until she was more lying down than lying back. Then she pulled his arm until his hand was cupping her down there. He held her for a minute before he began stroking her lips and clit. As her arousal spiraled towards its peak, he was staring at her face in the dark of the car.

Her center flamed. The lightning struck. She could feel herself convulsing as the fire spread from the inch his fingers had been touching through her abdomen.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said. The fire turned to warmth and spread through her body. The convulsions turned to shudders, then to shivers longer and longer apart.

"Just hold me," she said when his fingers started to move again. This was much too soon. She clasped his arm again, and pulled it until his hand grasped her with his fingers under her butt. He slipped his other arm further behind her back. Then he lifted her into a kiss, first on her mouth and then on each of her tits. "Oh, yes." He settled her back down on his lap. His hand slipped down to where only his fingers touched her lips.

"Is this too soon?"

"No. Go ahead," she told him. But, if not too soon, it was soon. Her arousal spiraled again. The flames burned more suddenly and even hotter. The convulsions struck again. It seemed that he was still stroking, she was still burning, despite the shaking of her body. She shoved his hand away, but kept hold of his arm. Her whole body, already warm, grew warmer. The shudders eased to shivers again. She pulled his arm until he was cupping her again -- comforting where she was most excited.

"Oh, Marilyn."

"Hold me."

"Yes darling." And he not only held her there, he raised her back with his other arm until she was hugged against his chest. That hand went back to her left tit, but he held it instead of stroking it. "Yes, darling," he said, "Yes, love. I love you. You are so sweet." He swayed back and forth in the seat, almost rocking her. She finally straightened and kissed him.

"Can I go on?" he asked. She nodded. He stroked her again. The arousals were somehow less dramatic, the shudders less intense. Again and yet again she responded, always more mildly than the last one. When he began stroking her one more time, she felt abraded, not aroused. She shook her head.

"Sore," she said, pushing his arm away. He stopped immediately. Putting both arms around her, he began swaying again.

They sat like that until her bladder started complaining. The problem with not attending the movies was that then you couldn't go just before you left the theater. They might get in more make-out time, but she got back earlier.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said as she was getting dressed. "You are so sexy."

Wednesday, they had another movieless "movie date." Thursday was his day off. He picked her up just after lunch and drove her to the beach.

"Sexy," he said when he saw her bikini for the second time. Unless he had a foot fetish, he'd seen more the previous two nights. Still, it was a sexy bikini, and they were in the bright sun. They left their clothes and their watches in the car. He took only his keys and the beach towels. She carried the sun screen. Again, that was fun to apply. His trunks were anything but revealing, but she could reach inside the leg hole to apply the sun screen. His face looked like she'd pained him, but his erection looked like it approved. Immediately afterwards, he turned face-down on his towel.

When they went in, though, he could swim as far as she could. She suspected he could swim farther and faster, but he merely paced her. After a while, he swam sidestroke and, away from her, breast stroke. The latter took a lot of space with his length of arms and legs. He returned to her with a backstroke, which wasn't very fast but looked peaceful.

"Y'know," she said on the way back. "This business of not seeing the movies is starting to scare me. My roommates teased me about that. We fooled nobody, but they were only teasing. I don't want my mother, much less my brother to know. Ya think we could see a couple so I have something to talk about?"

"Sure." Andy was always so agreeable. Sometimes, she wished he pushed back more, especially since she was cutting down parking time. Still, her period would start that night, and she would be wearing pantyhose again.

Saturday, when she did, Andy made no complaint and raised no question. They sat together that Sunday, they went out -- to another real movie -- the next Tuesday. That week, Andy's day off was Saturday.

"The beach is likely to be jammed on a Saturday," Andy said. "Want to get your sunshine in my back yard?" Well, that would eliminate the swimming, but it would give more privacy. Andy picked her up at 10:00, and she let her family believe that they were going to the beach.

"Good morning, Miss Grant," Andy's dad greeted her. "Pizza at one acceptable?" She nodded. "Let's select the toppings before you go back there. I'm not going back for anything." It turned out that Andy and his dad were used to getting pizza with onions and pepperoni -- Andy's favorites and green peppers and little shrimp -- Mr. Trainor's favorites. She was offered a veto on any of these and two additional choices. Six toppings sounded extreme to her, but this was pizza, after all, and they had already decided that this was how they'd do it. When Mr. Trainor read her the remaining choices, she took ground beef and anchovies.

They kissed before spreading their towels in the sun. Andy was much less nervous about his erection back here. When she applied sun screen to the inside of his thighs up to his scrotum, he tensed but neither resisted nor commented. When it was his turn, he applied the sun screen to every uncovered inch of her, rubbing it in on her thighs and upper tits. When she lay on her back and spread her arms and legs to maximize her exposure, Andy came over to kiss her deeply. Because of the sun screen, he couldn't kiss her anywhere else. After a bit, they both lay down and talked, then she dozed off.

"Pizza's here," was the call which woke her. The pizza was in the kitchen. Extra towels covered two of the chairs. Mr. Trainor was cutting it into quarters, then eighths. He sliced one of the eighths down the center.

"You guys probably should wash your hands in the sink," he said. "sun screen can't taste good." The pizza looked like quite a lot for three people, even if two of them loomed so large. "I shouldn't tell you," Mr. Trainor said, "but Andy will eat cold pizza. This won't go to waste." He handed each of them still another towel to use as a bib. "We're barbarians here. We eat pizza with our bare hands." There were glasses on the table and a bottle of ginger ale. Barbarian or not, Mr. Trainor said grace before the meal.

Despite the six toppings, or maybe because of them, the pizza was delicious. Mr. Trainor kept the conversation focused on her without verging on an interrogation. She told him that she had received 2 A s and 3 B s, the latter including Phys Ed.

"Very good! Andy had told me. He was quite proud of your accomplishment." He had told him? Andy sometimes suggested that he never mentioned her to his dad. And "quite proud?" Andy had beaten her.

"You know that Andy got 3 A s and 2 B s?"

"And," Andy said, "The B in drafting was in an engineering subject." Apparently, his getting better than her 'accomplishment' was disappointing. She wasn't sure she wanted his thinking that she had that much less native ability than he did, even if it seemed to be true.

"It'll be one more time on the dean's list," she said.

By the time his dad was done with his questions about the sorority, Andy had probably learned some things.

"And," she told him, "most Sundays, Andy and I attend Urbana First UMC." He had expressed an interest in Andy's attending church, after all.

"After," said Andy, "a long period of church shopping. What did we visit, Marilyn, eight congregations?" His dad merely smiled. He seemed more tolerant of Andy's rebellion than she was. She wasn't rebelling; she was asserting an independence as an adult that her parents were trying to destroy. And Andy, by rebelling against this patient man, was tainting her by association as being one more ungrateful teen -- and she was a teen for a few more months. After all, her parents wouldn't want her having sex with Andy, and she kept that a secret rather than rubbing their noses in it.

But that secret didn't last long.

Wednesday morning, when she went to take the Pill as part of her morning ritual, it wasn't in the hiding place under her bras. Although she knew she hadn't misplaced it, she cleaned out and replaced the top drawer to check, but she had been sure of the answer, and the bras were in a different order, anyway. She kept the padded ones on the bottom of the stack. If Pete had the pills, he'd extort something outrageous from her. She finished dressing and went down to a late breakfast.

"Marilyn," Mom asked, "what is this." She set the dispenser down too far away to grab.

"Where's Pete?"

"Long gone. Pick-up baseball. What is this?"

"It looks like Enovid from here. Shove it over and I'll look closer."

"The question was what it was doing in your drawer."

"No, Mom. The question is what were you doing in my dresser drawer."

"Well Dee had done the wash and sorted it, but she'd left it downstairs. I didn't want Pete pawing through your underwear, or mine for that matter, so I brought yours up to your room. I put your clean stuff at the bottom of the pile so you'd rotate. I've told you that you'll wear some out before the others lose their newness otherwise. Anyway..."

"I rotate most of them. I keep the two padded ones on the bottom. I don't wear them much. Pass it over, will you? I'm late for this morning." Mom was on the Pill; she knew that once in 24 hours wasn't enough. You should take them at a regular time.

"I'm not going to pass them over! I have a good mind to flush them down the toilet."

Well, even though she could dig out another dispenser from the suitcase in the closet, she'd have to fight this out. Mom could find anything she really wanted to look for.

"Are you that anxious to be a grandmother?" She was bluffing, and waited for Mom to call her bluff. Could she and Andy depend on his condoms? Well, the way they were going now, they could depend on tissue paper. They hadn't had sex in more than a month.

"Well! You do have another option you know."

"Yes, mother. I do." Then she started screaming. "You don't!" The windows rattled, and she dropped her voice again. "I chose sex without babies. If that's not possible -- if you sabotage that choice -- I'll go with the sex and risk the babies."

"Is your boyfriend ready to be a father? You think he's so responsible, but there is a way for boys to be responsible."

"You mean condoms? Come on, Mom, say it. It's not as if that was some secret. Yeah. And Andy used them. He is responsible. It's just that they're not as reliable as the Pill is. So your choice is between your daughter practicing safe sex and her practicing not-quite-so-safe sex. Not that there is any reason in the wide, wide world that you should have a choice about that."

"I knew there was a reason that I didn't like Andy."

"First you complained that he wasn't being responsible, and now you complain that he is. And you disliked Andy long before we started having sex. Anyway, however conflicted you might be about being a grandmother, you're sure not ready to be a mother in law. Hand that dispenser over." For a miracle, Mom did. Marilyn took the pill with the orange juice at her place at table. It went down harder than it did with water.

"I thought I'd raised you better."

"You taught me that good girls don't, and then you taught me that smart girls take precautions. When the time came, I decided to be a smart girl."

"But couldn't you have waited?" Waited? With Andy, she'd waited so long!

"Mom. I might have been the only virgin in my graduation procession at ETHS."

"I really doubt that! And you're a Zeta. The house would be ashamed."

"Mom, this I'm not guessing at. Of ten in my pledge class at the beginning of last year, I was one of the three virgins. Andy and I love each other, and we do what people who love each other do." At least, when they get enough privacy, they did. "Maybe we got there a little slower than most other couples our age, and I'm really not sorry about that. But welcome to the seventies. Welcome, for that matter, to the sixties."

"You think that your sisters?..."

"I don't think, I know. I know about my pledge year, anyway. And most of them didn't wait until college. If you want something distinctive to label me among unmarried college women, it's not 'no longer a virgin.' It's 'still with the first man she slept with.' Though, that we haven't done -- actually go to sleep together, I mean."

"That's no consolation. What would people think if they knew?"

"I'll tell you, I'd be dreadfully embarrassed if people knew. I would be dreadfully embarrassed if people saw a picture of me taking a shit, too, but they assume that I do. I just don't want them to see the evidence. Same here. Most of my contemporaries assume that Andy and I have sex, or -- at least -- that I do. All your friends assume that you and Dad still have sex, but you don't tell them."

"Keep us out of it. We're married."

"And so you are. What I'm saying is that I'm not doing anything unusual for my situation, but your telling about it would be unusual, and quite vulgar, for our situation."

"You don't have to worry about that! I don't want anyone to know. I especially don't want your father and your brother to know."

"Mom, this may be the first time in years, but we both want precisely the same thing."

"Well, not the same. Secrecy is my second choice." It was, Marilyn thought, her second choice, too. She'd prefer acceptance. But while she and Andy depended on others, they had to settle for secrecy.

On their date that night, she thought about telling Andy that her Mom had found her BC. Really, though, she hadn't told him that she was taking it. When next they found some privacy, she'd spring it on him. He'd be glad to not have to use condoms.

"Y'know," she said driving back, "nobody has asked me about the movies yet. You?" And Mom would be extremely careful not to.

"Nobody but Dad knows I go out on dates with you. Really, since I have my own car, he only knows I leave the house."

"You think we could go back to skipping the movies?"

"It's your family. It's your judgment."

"Let's. You really don't tell your dad anything? Do you think you could arrange some time for him to be out?"

"That's one step too far. If you're in the house, I can't be upstairs. What we do is our business, and he says he trusts your judgment if not mine." That was unfair. Andy had great judgment, erring, if at all, on the side of caution. "What we do chez Trainor, he regards as his business. I have to admit that I see his point. If my actions are my decisions because I'm an adult, then adults provide their own space. Not to say that my actions with you are only my decision -- they're your actions, too, and your decision -- it's only in relation to him that they're my decision. We can't get a bed in my dorm or your sorority, either. We're adults; we're on our own."

"Andy, I know you. I know that you're not going to ignore me, even if you express it that way." And he'd expressed the last little bit quite chaotically. But he wasn't domineering. He wasn't really inarticulate, even. If he said some things more clumsily than many other guys usually spoke, they were also more complicated thoughts.

They'd been sitting in her driveway for most of this conversation, and she had to get inside. When she opened the car door, Andy got out and walked her to her door. Somehow, this kiss was more desperate than loving on her part.

After she'd visited the downstairs john and climbed the stairs, Mom's voice reached her in the hall.

"Was that Andy's car in the driveway, dear?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"Well, if it was his car with you in it, nothing particular. I hope you didn't make an exhibition for the neighbors, though. It's just that we heard a car drive in, and nobody got out for the longest time."

"We were talking."

"And," Dad said, "you weren't burglars, which was really what we suspected. We don't say that your friends can't park there. We do say that we like to know who is parking there late at night." That actually sounded reasonable. So she merely went to bed.

The next morning, she got up when she heard stirring about the house. She had a glass with some water in it in her room, and she took her Pill immediately and hid the dispenser back under her bras. When she heard Dad leave the bathroom, she went in to take her own shower. Dad kissed her goodbye while she was still eating her breakfast. She braced for Mom to start in again, but she surprised her.

"'Bye, dear. I'm off. Thursday's my day at the Food Depositary, you know." Mom was full of good works, all charity and no caritas. She rinsed out her, Mom's, and Dad's breakfast dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. She had to look for space, and there was no telling when Pete would eat breakfast, so she started the machine. Surprisingly, Pete came down a few minutes later.

"Why are you up so bright and early?"

"Might ask that of you. I was gone before you stirred yesterday. No real reason. Sunlight. I can, at least, get a tan during daylight. There's nothing else to do in Evanston. I can't wait for camp to start. Next year, I'll probably be a counselor, and I can be there all summer. Now, don't start."

She'd rebelled out of her own camp experiences so that she didn't have to go after her sophomore year in high school. She had a certain history of ragging Pete about his. Not this year -- she was glad to see him off.

"Chaque-un a son gout. When is it anyway?

"The second through the eighteenth, counting traveling."

"They pay counselors, don't they? And they expect them to work."

"Sure, though the pay ain't much. The work, though, is leading in what campers enjoy. It's not as though we swept out the cabins every day."

"You'll make as many lanyards as they want, as long as you don't have to do housework."

"Campers clean their own cabins. It's not as if I saw you with a vacuum in your hand every day."

"Well, I do everything else in my room. And I cleared the table after Mom and Dad as well as myself. And the sisters do most of the cleaning except for the heavy stuff. Keeping a sorority room neat is harder than keeping a cabin neat." She could do vacuuming. She could do any housework. Mom had trained her if not insisted that she do everything every day. They could ask Dee who had the messier room.

But she didn't say anything. The two recent conversations percolating in her head were more interesting. Mom would be gone every Thursday. Pete would be gone for two weeks in July. Dad wouldn't take vacation days when Pete was gone, he'd already taken some time in June, anyway, and he'd be there for her last days at home.

"When are your sisters visiting this year?" she asked Andy in the back seat that night. She would have family gone; would he?

"Late July, early August, just before we go back. Come in the 23rd of July; leave the 6th of August. Why?"

"Think you could get specific days off in early July?"

"I might. Mr. Schmidt likes me, and most of the workers do, too. Many days, on the other hand, would be a problem. We're there to cover for people on vacation, not to take vacations ourselves."

"Oh, Andy, I love you!" And she did, and -- soon enough -- he was loving her. She had written down the two dates from the calendar, and when she was back in the front seat, feeling replete, she gave them to him.

All sorts of things could have gone wrong, but nothing did. Pete went off as he was supposed to. Mom went to the Food Depository as she was supposed to. She was bathed, dressed, made up, and perfumed when Andy rang the bell a few minutes before 10:00. After she locked the door, they had a sweet kiss. When his hands began to roam, she led him upstairs. She finally had him in her room with the door shut behind her. He kissed her while taking off her blouse and bra. She kissed him while raising his shirt. He had to take it off, himself. The tops of his hands were too high for her to reach when they were standing. He removed her shoes while she sat on the bed and he knelt before her. He reverently -- there was no other word -- removed her jeans.

"Oh, Marilyn!" Then he kissed her panties. When she reached for his belt, he dug into a pocket and removed a string of condoms. She shook her head.

"I'm on the Pill."

"You're sure?" Sure of what? You couldn't mistakenly think you were taking pills every morning. She went over to her dresser and drew them out. Even from where Andy was standing, the one-month dispenser was unmistakable.

"Oh, darling!" he said.

"You weren't the only one worried after the rainstorm."

She passed the bed on her way to him. She'd been so careful making it, but she stripped it to the bottom sheet with a grab and one fierce pull.

"Bed," he said.

"Bed... and walls." That's what they'd been missing, a little comfort and privacy. He sat down and took off his shoes and socks. Then he took his jeans the rest of the way off. They were both down to underpants and watches. Well, she'd take off her watch, since they weren't on a blanket in a field. She put it on the night stand, where she always did. He watched her, and then reached over to put his beside hers. She stood with her knees between his legs, and they had a deep kiss. His hands traveled all over her while hers were content with his shoulders and back. When she cupped his cheeks in her hands, he broke the kiss and rose.

He picked her up and lay her on the bed -- a lot more comfortable than a blanket on the ground. He glanced at her face when his hands reached the waistband of her panties. She raised her hips. His gaze traveled down her body as he pulled the panties down to her legs. When her entire pussy was bare, he was staring directly at it.

"Oh, Marilyn." He pulled the panties the rest of the way off and climbed between her legs as she spread them. She raised her knees. He kissed the insides of her thighs from her knees upward. She twisted with the excitement of those kisses, but he didn't relent. As he got higher, licks came more frequently between his kisses. Finally, he planted a kiss on her pussy lips.

"Oh, Marilyn." When he pushed her knees apart, she spread them as wide as she could. He used his fingers to open her outer lips. His lick on her inner ones sent heat spreading through her body. Gently, agonizingly slowly, he licked them apart. She reached down to grab his hair and pull him against her. He said something, indistinct in his position, but it sounded positive. The strokes of his tongue went further and generated more excitement each time. When they finally reached her clit, sparks flew. His mouth stayed there but his tongue was still as he slid his arms up the bed until he could reach her tits. He cupped them in his big hands with his fingers just outside her areolas. Then his tongue began another journey along her lips, even slower than the previous ones. Her hips raised to press her more firmly against his mouth.

Just as he licked her clit, both hands squeezed her nipples. It was a gentle squeeze, not hurting at all, but it sent fire through her. His tongue and his fingers kept lighting more fire in her nipples and clit. She tensed all over. Her legs straightened out and pressed down. Andy's arms were under them, but he didn't make any complaint. And then she couldn't think of anything but the three sources of fire.

"Andy," she called as the lightning struck. She convulsed. Her clit and nipples hurt, but it was such a good hurt that the lightning struck again and again. She could feel herself thrashing around, but she could only pay attention to the fire coming from her center.

Then she could feel nothing. Arms and legs were limp. All the energy she had went into gasping for breath. There were a few final tremors deep down in her center. As her hands dropped to her sides, Andy raised his head from her.

"Yeah." She heard him, but she also felt his breath on her delta. "Marilyn, you are so... wonderful." It was a long time before she could answer, but he said nothing more. She could still feel each time he breathed out as it passed over her delta.

"I feel wonderful."

"That's 'cause you are." He kissed her delta again, then returned to her upper thighs. When he opened her lips with his fingers, she thought it might be too soon, but she spread her knees as widely as possible, anyway. He licked up the inside of her left inner lip almost to her clit, then the inside of her right one. Her arousal spiraled upward again.

He put what felt like two fingers into her pussy while he was licking her clit. They rubbed back and forth against the top of her channel, and she felt herself stiffen once more. The fingers were gone suddenly, then he lifted his face off her. Before she could pull him back, he was moving up her body. He was looking her in the eye, and he was at her entrance.

"Oh, Marilyn." The blunt wedge spreading her wasn't rubber, it was Andy. He was warmer and less slippery. As he filled her, she could sense that it was him. When she was totally filled, he kissed her hairline. "Love," he said.

"Love." And it was love, love of him, love of each other that they were expressing. She was trying to find the right way of saying that when he began to move. Then, she hadn't any attention to spare for words. Her arousal spiraled upwards once more, amplifying that love. She stiffened and pushed up against his downstrokes. She saw the love expressed in his face. Then she saw nothing, only felt him filling her, emptying her, filling her again. All her muscles were tense, so tense they hurt.

Then lightning stuck.

"Andy," she cried. She flailed her arms and legs while the rhythmic contractions of her center pulsed fire through her body.

"Darling!" He drove into her, pressing her deep into the mattress. She felt his pulses within her own.

He fell to her side pulling out as he did. He caught her right leg in his motion, and this turned her a little toward him. They lay panting as she, at least, came back from far away. Something, probably a little bit of Andy, was trickling down her ass cheek.

"I love you," he said at last. He moved so she could get her leg back.

"You, too.... Mattresses are really more comfortable."

"So they are, but you're sexy in any situation."

"Andy, you're sweet." She got up enough to kiss him. After a minute, he pushed her back and continued the kiss. He stroked down to her tits. For the longest time, both absolutely naked, they kept above the waist as if this had been their freshman year. When his mouth kissed down to her tits, his hand stroked down to her delta. Although she spread her legs immediately, he stopped there for a while.

"You know." He lifted his head from her left nipple to say this. "You have the sweetest hair here. Every bit of you is pretty, but this is special." Special or not, he left it. He stroked the outside of her pussy. When his finger went inside, his lips went to her right tit. They weren't in a hurry. Right at the end, yeah, but they had hours to make love. Sometime, she had to feed her man. Sooner or later, her bladder would call as it did at the end of dates. But neither need end this date. This expanse of time was almost a greater luxury than the bed and the walls.

He seemed to feel this, too. His kisses were sweet, but they visited her nipple only occasionally. His finger stroked into her and across her lips, but it stroked across her clit only enough to keep her in the mood. He dropped onto his side and kissed only her shoulder.

"This is sweet, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah. They talk a lot about foreplay, but they don't say much about afterplay. Wouldn't it be great to fall asleep like this?" That would be lovely, and it would be possible if they were married. But he hadn't said married. It's just one of the things, privacy, bed, acceptance, that would come easier if they were married. Of course, some things, like tuition, would come harder or not at all. Still, Pete, with his saying that the married couples in church were sexless, was showing how naive he was. He might have had a few feverish scrambles in the back seat -- on the other hand, his sex experience might be limited to his own hand. In either case, he hadn't experienced enough to see the luxuries which came with your own shared bed. She hadn't experienced them, but she certainly could imagine them.

If Andy's mouth only touched her occasionally, the same couldn't be said of his finger. This was stroking one lip up almost to her clit, stroking the other lip down to its end, stroking back up. Every time it passed over her clit, she shivered. Every time it reversed course just below the clit, she ached for it to go farther. She rolled her head so she could watch his face. The next time he just missed her clit, he grinned. And she'd just been thinking how nice a guy this sadist was.

"Andy, please!" He grinned again, but the next stroke of his finger covered all of her clit. He stopped stroking for just a minute to rise up and kiss her tits nicely. Then he was kissing from one to the other and stroking her. He timed it so that he could stroke directly over her clit while he was sucking on a nipple. She tightened.

When she didn't think her muscles could get any tighter, when her hips were swaying from side to side under his hand, he lifted his head. He looked right at her face, and then slowly down her body. The passage of his eyes was a more arousing caress than the passage of his hand would have been just then.

"Oh, Marilyn... Oh, darling... Come for me." And, right then, lightning struck. His finger kept stroking, and he kept watching. Lightning struck again, and she felt fire pour out from her center to the tips of her fingers and toes. When she couldn't take any more, she dropped. She'd been touching the mattress, but it felt like a fall from a great height.

"Oh, love," he said, and his hand stilled. While she lay there, he cupped her pussy gently. "Sweet... sweet... sweet... sweet Marilyn." He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her chin. "Darling Marilyn." She wanted him to kiss her mouth, but she needed it to breathe. "Lovely woman... loving woman." He stared into her eyes.

When her breath eased, she kissed toward his face, and he bent to give her a real kiss, first lips, then tongue. When his fingers started moving, she shook her head. She covered his hand and pulled so he would cup her harder. He rested the heel of his hand on her delta, and held her between the legs. The kiss went on as long as she could hold her breath. When she started exhaling, he moved his face back before kissing her chin.

"Close your eyes." When she did, he kissed each eyelid. He kissed her forehead again, the bridge and then the tip of her nose, her lips. He fell back down flat but brought her right hand to her mouth to suck each finger. "You are so sexy, so, so, erotic."

Someday, she'd have to find out why his giving her climaxes made her sexy. Really, wasn't it his being sexy? Well, why not now?

"Andy,"

"Yes."

"How come, when you do that to me, when you take me to a delightful, shudderingly ecstatic, climax, does that make me sexy?" He waited 'til she thought he might not answer.

"Well, they're sexy climaxes -- 'shudderingly ecstatic' as somebody said. And that's not all. You have a sexy face and a sexy body, but you definitely have sexy climaxes. And they're even sexier on a sexy body."

"As compared to the other climaxes you've seen women have?"

"Well, yes. I don't have a great deal of experience, but, even so, I can say that your orgasms are frightfully sexy. Would another woman's compare? Except in one way, I can only guess. But yours are special because they are Marilyn's orgasms in response to me. No other woman, no matter how prettily she writhed, would have that. So you're sexy and I say so, but you're my love, and that's more important yet." His compliments were lovely, but something was dripping down her ass cheeks. She sat up.

"Back in a sec," she said. As she went toward the bathroom, a little bit of Andy was still dripping on her thighs. She just hoped none hit the carpet. She closed the door, sat on the toilet, and peed. She wiped herself, got a few squares of TP wet at the faucet, and used those to wipe herself again. Mom kept commercial douches in there, but she was afraid to use one. Mom might know how many she had.

"Want to take a turn?" she asked back in the room. Andy looked a little bashful walking naked out her door to the bathroom. Well, it was a strange place for him, and she felt a little bashful herself. She doubted that she'd been stark naked in that hallway for a dozen years.

There was a wet spot on the bed, right in the middle. Well, she'd cover it up before Mom got home. It might well dry up before Mom got home. She got in bed to the right of the spot. When Andy came back, he got in the other side. She'd been watching him walk naked, with his cock hanging down. When he was lying down, she reached for it.

"It's a little soon," Andy said.

"Nah. I want to see what it's like like this. I only see it sticking out and weird." What ever else Andy had done in the bathroom, he'd rinsed it off. She wondered if he did that after every piss, or if it was because of the sticky stuff.

"Well, that's really your own fault, you know. Most of the time, he doesn't stick out. Around you, he makes a habit of it."

"You say 'he.' Do you give it a name?" She'd read Lady Chatterley's Lover. Was giving it a name what all guys did? English guys? Some guys? Lawrence's imagination?

"No. Should I?"

"Probably not." As far as she was concerned, this was Andy. It was just Andy in a special way. She didn't want to have John Thomas, or Dick, or -- perish the thought -- Peter in her.

During the discussion, she'd been feeling it. It went from shorter and quite flexible to longer and firmer. It still wasn't stiff, though.

"See, I told you it was too soon."

"Yeah, but it's cute." On that comment, it seemed to get more flexible. "You guys don't like to be cute, do you? You like it to be stiff, like a club or spear -- threatening."

"Well, it's two things, really. It's a hose for getting rid of waste, and it's a sexual organ. Seems strange to have you play with it when it's in its sewer mode."

"Dunno. I have two organs for feeding babies. You don't mind seeing them."

"Anyway, you talk about 'you guys.' How large a sample are you judging from?"

"Well, I've had guys grab my hand and pull it towards their crotch. Never when it was soft and cute." She wasn't going to mention Colin unless she really had to. She wasn't going to lie -- hell! Andy knew she'd gone steady with Colin -- but she wasn't going to bring it up.

"Well, that was impolite, but they weren't simply passing you in the hall, were, they."

"Hell, no! They were gross, but never that gross."

"Well, I'd suggest that at the end of a date with Marilyn, there wouldn't be many boys with soft cocks. I'm only soft because it's immediately post coitus, and that's not going to last long if you keep that up." She dropped him and reached for his face. She gave him a kiss. This time her tongue chased his. He was full of compliments. From what her friends had told her, there weren't many high-school boys who ended a date with a soft cock when they were dating any girl.

Andy started stroking her tits. Lying down like this, he could use both hands. She, on the other hand, was holding herself up on both arms. She couldn't touch him except with her lips. He was cupping both tits, and stroking both nipples, sort of in rhythm, but going different directions. When she needed to breathe, she left his lips and kissed all over his face.

He took over the kiss and pushed her back. He could only use one hand, but it stroked down to her pussy. She spread her legs, but he stroked her inner thighs instead of heading right to her pussy. When he kissed down toward her tits, his hand clasped the outside of her pussy. Then he parted the lips, and one finger stroked between her inner ones. She brought her legs together to increase those sensations.

He licked all around the areola, missing the nipple though she tried to shift so he'd get it. She grabbed his head with both hands, and positioned it right. She could feel his laughter on her nipple.

Just when his finger stroked over her clit again, he sucked hard. She was becoming quite aroused. His finger continued the long, slow strokes, but it crossed her clit each time. When it did, he sucked again. For a while, she just lay there reveling in the sensation. Even her hands relaxed. He licked a line down her tit and up her left one to that nipple.

When she tensed again, the sensations were driving her. Warmth spread from where he was licking her nipple; heat spread from where he was stroking her clit. Sometimes, his chest pressed into her right tit, sometimes his chest hair just brushed across that nipple. When he pressed down on her delta, she realized that her hips had raised off the mattress.

"Andy."

"Ihm, hm," he said into her tit. He thrust a finger deep into her, and then pulled it out oh, so, slowly. When he stroked that entire finger across her clit, lightning struck. "Yeah!" he said before going back to sucking.

She felt herself convulse. Fire from where he was sucking her nipple met fire from where he was stroking her clit. The fire spread through her and shook her. It was as if every muscle was stretched tight as could be. Then they all of them went loose at once. She dropped onto the bed, and he moved off her tits. He cupped her pussy but didn't stroke it.

Sometime later, she woke up with his arm around her waist and his breath on her shoulder.

"Andy?"

"Y'know, you're pretty when you're asleep.... And I have seen other females asleep, too. And you're prettier than they are."

"Was I really asleep?" How embarrassing!

"Not long." He kissed her shoulder, and moved his hand from her side up to her tit. Weren't they supposed to eat lunch sometime? Well, she wasn't really worried that Andy would think that more important than what they were doing. And his kiss and hand felt good. "Roll over."

When she did he started kissing her back as he'd done before. He started at her neck and kissed downward. This time, when he got to the small of her back, he went on. He kissed her butt, the crease under her right ass cheek, and down her right leg to the heel.

"Andy, that foot's dirty." He switched over to the tendon on the left leg and kissed a path up that leg. Some of the kisses were exciting, some of them just felt like she was being loved. When he got back to her butt, he put his hand between her legs. While he kissed up her spine in very short steps, he stroked her lips. The strokes were exciting. When he got to her neck, the kisses and licks were exciting, too. She felt herself tensing again, but when he licked the back of her right ear, she wanted to turn over.

"Let me turn over." He let go and moved his head back. When she'd turned over, his hand went back between her legs. He gave her a real kiss, and their tongues met. Like that, she could see his hair, one ear, and the ceiling. Tensing again, she put out a hand to touch him. She got his chest hair, then one nipple. It was small, but a little brushing made it hard. She trailed her hand down his body and across his stomach. His cock wasn't soft and cute anymore, and it hardened in her hand.

"Want to watch again?" She did and drew up her feet nearly to her hips. She raised her head off the pillow and arched herself while he was shuffling across the bed lower than her feet were. It didn't look like there was enough room for his body, so she spread he feet as far as they would go like this.

He bent over her, and pushed his cock down.

"Can you open yourself?" When she did, he put the tip in her. She watched and felt as he slowly pushed into her. It was all Andy, warm and smooth, spreading her lips and pushing a little inside.

"Oh, darling," he said. "You are so warm, so smooth, so soft."

"Andy, you're so warm, so firm... spreading me." And he was spreading her. Then, slowly, delightfully, he was filling her.

"Oh, Marilyn." He kissed her hairline, then moved back as he pulled himself to where she could see him again. "Oh, darling." As he pushed into her, she lowered herself back to the mattress. She moved slowly enough that he was going more deeply into her even as she was moving away from him. When she was all the way down and he was all the way in, she grabbed his ass and lowered her head to the pillow.

"Yeah," he said. "Want to stay like this?" He lowered himself and took a tit in each hand. She moved her legs around him. His legs were spread, and she could rest her heels on the bed between them. He sort of swayed side to side. She felt him move between her legs and rub across the top of her pussy. He kissed her forehead, and rolled her nipples in his fingers. "Oh, darling. You are so warm, so welcoming."

"So full." She felt full. He was in her all the way up to her heart.

"Can't," he said. He drew back ever so slowly until she felt him pull through her tightest part. "Love." He pushed into her just as slowly. He swayed side to side again, and then started back out. "Darling," he said before starting in. Her tits, cupped in his hands, were warm, and the warmth spread from them into her chest. Her pussy, filled with his warmth, spread that warmth through her belly. As he moved, he brushed her insides of her thighs, and that spread warmth, too.

Every time he entered her, he spoke a word of love. She gripped his ass to pull him tighter and rose to meet those too-slow entrances. As he moved within her, she could feel her muscles tighten. But the overwhelming sensation was of warmth. It spread from their points of contact all through her -- to her fingers and toes. As she grew warmer, she pushed up against him more strongly. Every time, though, he filled her and pressed her into the bed.

Filling her fully, pressing her down, he moved his hand from her left tit to her shoulder. He swayed back and forth while he did this. The next time he filled her, he moved his hand from her right tit to that shoulder. He moved out so she barely felt him. "Marilyn," he said. He drove into her strongly, pulling back on her shoulders as he did. He began to move more rapidly.

Then lightning struck. She pulled him to her. He still moved in and out, although in faster, shorter strokes. Lightning struck again and yet again. She clawed his ass to keep him in her, but he kept driving in and out while she convulsed. She couldn't take any more, but she didn't have breath to tell him.

Finally, he growled and pounded into her more fiercely than ever before. He pressed her deep into the bed. She felt him pulsing within her as she collapsed under him. He had his elbows outside her arms, but most of his weight was on her. They were panting into each others' faces.

Her eyes closed. When they opened, his were closed. When he opened his, he moved off her, if not very far. They lay like that until his stomach growled.

"I was going to feed you."

"Well, some hungers are more urgent than others."

"Yeah. Do you think you could get up?"

"This week?" But he did move away and start to get up. "Can I use the john?"

"Sure." She heard the toilet flush and the water run. Suddenly, she felt that she had to go, too. She got up, slowly. The wet spot had now spread across a third of the bed. A lot of it was on her, and more Andy was still dripping out. She grabbed her panties, and held them to her. She went to her dresser and took out another pair. By that time he was back in the room.

In the bathroom, she used the toilet. Whatever Mom would discover, she used one of her douches. After that, she got in the shower for a minute. She rinsed the front of her body from the waist down. Then she turned around and spread her legs. She bent down and backed under the shower. Bracing herself on her right arm on the side of the tub, she used her left hand to deflect the shower spray 'til it got her pussy and the inside of her thighs. Getting out, she dried herself off.

When she got back, Andy was dressed and was just putting on his wrist watch.

"How long do we have?"

"Mom gets back after 4."

"It's almost 3:30."

"Look, I'm going to feed you. She'll know I cooked for you, anyhow. If she knows you were here, we'll have an innocent reason." Besides, she knew he was hungry. Hell! She was hungry, and Andy ate more than she did. She tossed her old panties in her hamper and put on the rest of her clothes. She made the bed hurriedly.

Downstairs, she sat him at the kitchen table. She poured his pop and got out the patties she'd prepared. She cooked all three, and put them on the platter. She brought the hamburger buns to the table in their box. She got out the condiments.

He ignored the mustard and relish, but slathered his bun with catsup. He was mostly through with his first burger when she heard the car in the garage. Mom came through the door from the garage and stopped dead. Andy got up from his chair.

"Mrs. Grant."

"Andy? Is this lunch or dinner?"

"I wanted to feed him," she explained. It sounded a little lame, but she had wanted to show him that she could cook. "He's fed me lots of times."

"Well, I know boys. Just 'cause it's neither lunch nor dinner, doesn't mean you can't find room. Excuse me." And Mom went past them. Marilyn could hear footsteps on the stairs. Andy sat down and finished his burger. He raised his eyebrows.

"Go ahead. I intended two for you."

"I promised to call you today," he whispered. "You wanted to surprise me with lunch, but I didn't call until nearly three." Then he started to apply catsup again. That might work. Then Mom called from upstairs. It was her company voice, not her angry voice.

"Marilyn?"

"Yes?"

"Could you bring up the bottle of Airwick from the kitchen?"

"But..." There was one in the bathroom right next to where Mom must be standing.

"Now!" That was Mam's non-nonsense voice. She got the bottle and carried it upstairs. Mom met her at the door to her room and pulled her inside. There already was one open Airwick bottle on the floor.

"Go down and get rid of him. Then come right back up here."

"But..."

"Having sex is one thing, not that I approve. Leaving your room smelling like a Reno cathouse on Saturday night is another. You think your dad can't smell?" She pulled the sheets off the bed. "Good God!"

"But..."

"Go down and get rid of him. We have work to do." She went downstairs.

"Look, I'm in trouble. Can you go? We'll talk later."

"If there's trouble, it's our trouble."

"If you stay, it'll be infinitely worse. Please! Here take your hamburger." He gulped his pop, picked up his hamburger, and headed to the door. When she'd let him out, she locked it again and headed upstairs.

"Well, I never." Mom had the sheets and the mattress pad in a pile on the floor. "What else did you wear? Get that window open." She opened the window and went to the hamper. She got out the panties. Mom looked at the dampness, and then sniffed at it. "Well, at least I know you didn't have sex yesterday. He must have been saving it up for a week. You are a total mess. Take these downstairs and put them in the washing machine but don't start it. Go in, strip, and take a shower."

"I sort of rinsed myself off."

"Used your towel?" She nodded. Get another. When you put your clothes outside the bathroom door, put the towel with them. When you've had your shower, use one of my douches."

"I already..."

"Take another. A little free with my property, aren't you? Well, I hope you haven't killed anyone this week. We don't want to break all the Ten Commandments at once. Take an entire change of clothes with you to the bathroom, including shoes. Clean yourself thoroughly, inside and out, and then dress again. Meet me either in the kitchen or in the laundry room. Pick up your watch after you've dressed." God! She'd been in such a hurry, she'd forgotten her watch.

Marilyn did what she was told. She didn't even ask how Mom knew about how a Reno cathouse smelled on Saturday night, although she'd been tempted. They both wanted Dad not to suspect. While Mom seemed to be overdoing it, she'd go along. When she got downstairs, Mom was in the kitchen. She finished her burger while she listened to her instructions. When the washer stopped, she was to unload it into the dryer, and then put the jeans and top in the washer and start another load. The tennies wouldn't be washed, but they'd be left down there for a few days.

She'd leave her window open, the door closed, and the air-conditioner on until she went to bed. The Airwick bottles would stay open 'til then, too.

Under those circumstances, the room didn't appeal that evening. The TV wasn't interesting, either, with Mom sitting there wafting silent accusations her way. She went out to the drugstore and called Andy from there. She bought a package of douches and two candy bars while waiting for him to come by. They walked slowly and talked softly.

"Your dad say anything about how you smelled?" she asked.

"No. He did say I had some lipstick on me. Asked if it was yours."

"And?"

"Said that was okay. He didn't want to plan anything about you with the girls if I were seeing another woman.... Actually, I think he was being snide. He knew damn well I'm not seeing somebody else."

"Well, Mom said my room smelled like a cathouse -- a Reno cathouse on Saturday night, to be specific."

"Um..."

"Well, we'll have to be more careful. I'll be damned if I'm going to give up the pleasure of having a bed and walls, although clearly the privacy I thought we had was more than we actually had."

"We have to do something."

"We have to do something after next week." That had always been true. "Did I really smell that bad?" She might have been overenthusiastic with the perfume, but that wasn't what Mom had been talking about.

"Really? I liked the stuff you bought, but I loved the smell of Marilyn."

"Andy!"

"Well, you asked. And it's true. I can't believe professionals smell as sexy as you do. Does your mom know how whorehouses smell?"

"I really doubt it. She just meant that we left it smelling like sex."

"Well, you smell like sex, and it really turned me on."

"You're no great help, you know. You say everything about me turns you on."

"Just about. I'll try to think of an exception."

"You're impossible." Their route had led around this block twice. She turned towards her own house. She stopped Andy at the sidewalk, and they had a kiss there. When she went in the house, the news was on. She went upstairs, stashed the douches in her bottom drawer, and closed the two Airwicks. She put one back where it belonged in the kitchen and went back upstairs. When she used the bathroom, she put that Airwick away and replaced the two douches she'd used. She closed the window and got into bed. It was early, but she was tired.

In bed, she ate the candy bars -- already brushed teeth or no. Somehow, as well as tired, she felt hungry. Well, her meal schedule had been utterly discombobulated. All sorts of muscles ached a little, too, but she knew what caused that.

He was really a lovely guy. He wanted her to have pleasure, really wanted that. At the end, he sure went for his own release, but that was at the end. What could they do? She could plan for the next use of her room, but what after that? And wasn't that really Andy's responsibility? She'd done much more than half at moving their relationship along. Not pushing was fine, but the boy asked and the girl decided.

Well, they were man and woman, now. Maybe the woman took more responsibility. The Pill was part of that, much better than what he could use. And, to give him his due, Andy had taken that responsibility. And he'd found the field, if that blew up in their faces. Well, she'd found the room, and that had blown up in their faces, too. There just weren't any good options for an unmarried couple. Although her generation had decided that the Victorian code was obsolete, Victorians still ran the world.

By the 21st century, college dorms would have rooms for couples. By the 21st century, though, their kids would be in college. Would it be their kids? Would she marry Andy?

And with that question circling in her head, she dropped asleep.

The next day was brighter. After all, she'd had great sex with Andy. Mom had accepted, if not approved, that she'd be having sex with Andy. Andy's dad was planning for her being part of his family celebrations, if not planning that she be part of his family. When you thought of it, they'd been through two years, and only had two years to go -- half way. If they weren't married after graduation -- and she still hadn't decided her opinion, let alone guessed Andy's opinion, of that -- then they'd say goodbye.

She went to the beach Friday and Monday. She went on "movie" dates with Andy Friday, and Saturday. They sat together Sunday morning, and Andy drove her home afterward. Monday, and Tuesday, they went parking again. Wednesday they let it rest since they'd be together Thursday.

When he rang her bell at 10 Thursday, she was prepared, better prepared than last time, she hoped. The perfume was minimal, only on the pulse points of her wrists. She had on her mascara but not her lipstick. A towel and the Airwick were already in the room, and the window was open. The alarm was set for 3:00.

She let him in and locked the door. They had a great kiss. Her top was white and so thin that she'd never have worn it without a bra if anyone else could see her. Andy not only saw her, he felt her through the top. He turned her around and kissed the back of her neck while cupping her tits.

She was in less hurry to get upstairs, this time. But they did get upstairs, he did undress her, and she did undress him. She even took off his tennies and socks, though he resisted. He wanted to kiss her feet and she shouldn't get close to his? Neither touched their watches. He must have the same thought as she did. She opened the Airwick and pulled back the sheet. His cock was already pointing at her.

"Put me to bed." He lifted her, kissed her mouth while her feet were about his knee level, and placed her in the center of the bed. She wiggled over a bit to give him a place. He stood looking at her for a minute.

"You are so beautiful." Then he joined her in bed. While they kissed, he stroked his hand slowly down from her neck across her left tit to her delta. Though she spread her legs, it returned to cup her tit. He broke the kiss.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said while they both breathed. When he resumed the kiss, he cupped her left tit and then stroked slowly down again. After running his fingers through the hair on her delta, he cupped her delta and pussy. He was holding her center in his hand.

"Yeah," she said, pressing his hand down with her own.

"Oh, Marilyn." He spread her lips and began stroking. He started a kiss down her body. He took forever, but she knew where he was going. He stopped the motion of his hand to climb between her legs. Then he spread her lips again, and she felt the touch of his tongue. Fire spread through her. When he spread her lips even further and put in two fingers, fire spread from there, too.

Her whole body was ablaze when the lightning struck. She felt herself fly up as every muscle thrummed. Somehow, although she was rising, she felt his fingers still inside her resisting her clenching and making it feel even better. When she fell back, he rested his cheek on her thigh.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said. It was really "oh, Andy," but she hadn't the breath to tell him so.

Minutes later, she reached down and tousled his hair. He ran a hand -- the other still had fingers buried in her -- up her arm to the elbow. He took her right tit in his hand. Then he turned his head to kiss the top of her thigh.

"So sweet." He kept kissing. Soon, she was aroused again, and his kisses got to her center. She felt herself getting close as his tongue and lips sent sparks shooting through her and his fingers moved deep within her.

"Andy," she said. She tugged at his hair, and he moved up her body. He kissed her once each on her belly, between her tits, and full on her lips. Then he was at her entrance.

"Oh, Marilyn." He pressed into her slowly, too slowly. She felt herself opened, spread, filled. When he had filled her all the way, he kissed her forehead. "Oh, Marilyn," he repeated. He moved his hands to her shoulders. As he began to move in her, her arousal recovered. Then it spiraled upward. She felt herself burn; she felt every muscle tense.

"I can't," Andy said. Then he pulled on her shoulders as he drove into her. "Marilyn," he shouted. She felt him pulse within her, and that brought her over, too. She was still climaxing when he fell sidewards and came out.

When she relaxed, they both lay panting. Only his breath and one hand touched her, but she felt his love embrace her, anyway. She almost drifted off like that.

She could feel a bit of Andy dripping down her ass cheek. When she had the energy, she reached for the towel by the side of the bed and pressed it between her legs. When she got more energy, she pulled one end beneath her and sat up. A lot more of it ran down. Clutching the towel to her, she went into the bathroom. Douched, with an empty bladder, hands washed, she returned to the room. Andy was watching her. The wet spot beside him looked like only a few drips. Good! There was another towel under the sheet. She got her robe.

"Must you cover such beauty?" Andy was being romantic. Well, she hadn't covered up for the trip to the bathroom and back, and he couldn't deny that he'd been watching. The kitchen was something else.

"Really, I'm going to feed you."

"I have what I want right here."

"Yeah, but we can come back." And with that promise, he began to dress. she went down in robe and slippers, but she put on an apron before she began to cook. She hadn't wanted to repeat hamburgers. She really could cook some quite-fancy meals, but she wasn't going to do it if it meant cutting down Andy time. She'd decided on toasted cheese sandwiches.

She poured cooking oil in the frying pan and turned the heat on high. She lay four slices of bread on the cutting board, unwrapped the individual slices of cheese, placed two each on the bottom slices, and topped them with more bread. Andy came in while she was finishing this.

"Sit down. I'll only be a minute." He sat.

"I like to watch you cook." He liked to watch her, or so he said about everything. She got the sandwiches in the pan, and started on the next four. She could only eat three when she forced herself, should probably stop at two with the exercise she foresaw. She figured, however, that she'd never heard Andy say he was full. If he didn't eat the rest, she'd save them for midnight snacks. Cold, they weren't great, but they were edible.

When the second batch were in the pan, she sliced the first ones from corner to corner, and piled them on a platter. She put them in front of Andy, and got the pop out of the refrigerator.

"Eat. They're better when they're hot." She went back to finish her tasks. She retrieved the platter, piled on the others, and returned to the table. Having removed her apron, she sat down and took one.

"Delicious," Andy said. They were nice -- edible if not delicious.

"I should have asked if you liked them." Although, he'd had cheese on the pizza and bread -- or something like bread -- on every burger they'd ever eaten together.

"It's now one of my favorite meals. Aside from the other associations, I watched the most beautiful woman in the world cook them." Even aside from being vertically challenged and an A cup, she wasn't the prettiest woman in her sorority chapter, let alone the entire world. Maybe near the average in the house, which would be well above average for the campus.

"You're so full of bull shit that I don't even know that you really like the sandwiches." He liked them enough to eat them, though. Although he'd started first and ate faster, she sat watching while he went through the last three triangles. Some day, she was going to feed him something until he quit eating because he was too full.

When they'd had pizza at his house, he'd been on his third piece and his dad on his second when his dad had offered her a second.

"I couldn't."

"How about a half piece then." Mr. Trainor gestured towards the one he'd cut in two.

"I'm full."

"I told you, Dad. She's a tiny little bit, and hardly eats anything at all." Andy had seen her down a Whopper and shake; he'd seen her eat an entire restaurant meal. For that matter, a slice of that pizza with 6 toppings was hardly 'nothing at all.'

"Well, we go through most of a six-incher. When there's three, it's only reasonable to order 50% more."

"One and a third. One and two thirds and a ninth. You got seven ninths more. That isn't 50%. Three quarters would be 27 36ths, and you got 28 36ths."

"What diameter would be 150% of a six-incher?"

"I'd have to get my calculator."

"Well, without your calculator, can you tell me if the place sells that size?"

"No, they don't."

"And would the six-incher have sufficed?"

"Three quarters are left. Three quarters of sixteen ninths is -- obviously -- four thirds. No, I'll grant you that." Nothing about this had been obvious to her at all.

"Andy is proud of his mental arithmetic," his dad explained. "What he doesn't take into account is people's feelings. Actually, we both ate more than we would have before. Those slices look smaller than a quarter of a six-incher does. Now, with all that sitting in front of you, I'll believe that you're satisfied. With the pizza almost gone, I'd never have believed that you'd refused the last slice because you were full."

Andy had offered her to get her the half slice later in the afternoon. When she'd refused, he stayed out in the yard with her. He'd told her later that he'd finished the pizza by the end of the next day without skipping any meals. The amount he'd snacked on was twice what she'd had for lunch.

Andy rinsed the plates and glasses in the sink while she put them in the dishwasher. He followed her upstairs. They had a sweet kiss before he placed her on the bed again. This being picked up and set down was starting to feel sexy. Then he stripped and lay beside her. He kissed her tits while stroking her pussy. When lightning struck, he let his hand rest on her while kissing all over her face. He ended with a deep kiss with their tongues playing tag. Then he began stroking again.

Twice more, lightning struck. Twice more, he paused, kissed her, and resumed. All that had been delightful. She couldn't deny that his hands and mouth brought her exquisite pleasure. But this wasn't what they'd schemed for; this wasn't what she'd made her elaborate preparations for; this wasn't what she'd had two separate confrontations with her mother for. This, deeply enjoyable as it was, wasn't the highest form of pleasure that they could share.

"Andy."

"Ihm hmm?" He lifted his mouth from her tit, if he didn't stop his finger from moving. And, really, she didn't want that finger to stop.

"I want you in me." There, she'd said it.

"Not quite yet. This time, I promise you, but not quite yet. Do you want to put me in?" That sounded sexy as hell.

"Yeah."

"Soon. Not yet." He sucked her nipple, licked and then sucked her other nipple. He kissed her stomach next to the belly button. At least he was moving from one place to another without kissing a trail there. He was also moving down in the bed while continuing his strokes.

She raised her right leg to allow him to move closer to where she wanted him. He shifted his hand so the palm rested on her delta. His thumb started stroking her clit. He seemed to be checking her out, stopping there between her legs but awfully far away. Then he moved closer and took her right hand.

He guided that hand to his cock. It was long but not all that hard. In her hand, it grew much harder and pointed right at her face. He took his hand off her delta. With both hands on the bed, he moved up 'til his face was almost right above hers.

"Now, my darling, guide it in." She spread her lips with her left hand and tugged gently. His body went forward and lower. She tried to push him down, but he gave a lot of resistance. She raised herself until they were touching. "Oh, Marilyn!" He moved forwards at the pull until he'd filled maybe a third of her and her hand was against her pussy lips. When she let go, he slid all the way in. She was filled. He kissed her forehead. "Oh, love."

"Love you, too," she said. That had been a sexy adventure, but the best was yet to come. And, as he slid in and out, the best came. And, as he slid in and out faster, she came. Finally, as lightning was striking all through her body, he came too.

When he fell, he fell to her right. They lay there gasping for a moment. They touched at only a few points, but those expressed love. She rolled over, reached down beside the bed, and pulled the towel between her legs. Then she backed up towards him. By the time she was there, he was turned to cuddle her. He held her and kissed the back of her head. Actually, she realized, with the window open the air-conditioning was quite overpowered. The temperature made lying naked -- even lying naked together -- more comfortable than the temperature at which she usually kept the room. That was her last thought for minutes as she lay cuddled contentedly in his arms.

When Andy started to stroke her tit, she took his hand in both of hers and brought it up to her chin. He relaxed then as completely as she. He went back to kissing her head, and she sank back into a blissful half doze. When the alarm rang, he jerked. Maybe she did too.

"Three O'clock," she told him. "We have things to do." She pushed her feet off the side and sat up. The towel made that a little uncomfortable, but it was sure to catch any drips.

"What things?" When she didn't answer -- she was confused by the question -- he asked more particularly. "What do you want me to do?" She wanted him to stay right there for the rest of the day -- the rest of the week, maybe the rest of the year -- and make love to her. She needed him to get up, get dressed, and get out before Mom got home.