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Message-ID: <61463asstr$1315527001@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Picnickers - F" -- Uther -- MF 1st
Lines: 1907
Date: Thu, 08 Sep 2011 20:10:01 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read
electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else.

This material is copyright, 2011, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I
specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping one electronic copy
for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting
requires previous permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail them to me at
nogardneprethu@gmail.com.

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


Picnickers - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF 1st


On March 18, '76, Marilyn Grant was waiting outside the study room of her
sorority house when Nancy, Barbara, and Hailey came out. Her boyfriend,
Andy, was tutoring the three in College Algebra every Thursday afternoon.
And, after he did the House that favor, she rewarded him, and herself, with
a little time together. Before she could go in to meet Andy, Penelope swept
by with her guy, Greg. They went into the study room, and Andy came out soon
afterwards.

"Look, did you drive?" she asked him. Whatever Penelope wanted to do in the
study room, Marilyn wanted some time with Andy.

"No. It was good weather." It was dry, but chilly. Andy, who always drove
his car when the two of them had a date, often walked otherwise.

"Well, I'll see you Sunday, then."

"Aren't you going to see me off?" So she got her coat and kissed him goodbye
on the porch. Their tongues played together, but it wasn't anything like as
much as she had expected from their time in the study room.

Sunday, he drove her to church, sat with their legs touching, drove her
back, and kissed her goodbye on the porch. All this was nice. She enjoyed it
greatly, but it didn't make up for the making out they'd missed. She looked
forwards to Tuesday. Maybe she'd suggest skipping the movie.

After dinner every Sunday afternoon, there was a meeting of the U of I
chapter of Zeta Gamma Tau. Sometimes, after the ceremonies, it was
perfunctory; occasionally, it went on for more than an hour. This time Iris
called on Penelope who had a motion.

"I move that the using the study room for private meetings with boyfriends
be regularized. As it is, one of our members seems to be the only one using
it this way. If it's available, Greg and I want our turn." Everybody looked
at Marilyn.

"Well, now," Willa said after she was recognized. "Sure, Penelope has as
much right to that privacy as Marilyn does. But, as she said, the privacy is
for her and Greg, as opposed to Marilyn and Andy. Well, right before Marilyn
goes in there, Andy spends nearly two hours in there tutoring three of our
sisters. He's making a contribution to Zeta, and I don't think I'm going too
far in jumping to conclusions if I say that he's doing it because of
Marilyn. A little private time, private time on Thursday afternoons for
God's sake, is damn little payment for that contribution."

Half a dozen hands went up, then, but many of the freshmen were pointing at
Karen who had her hand raised. Iris recognized her.

"The reason I'm speaking is that I'm in the only room of freshmen which
doesn't include one of the women that Andy is tutoring. Well, we're agreed.
This may be the biggest favor that Marilyn and Andy have done for the
freshman class, but it's not the only one. All five of us will vote against
this motion."

Suddenly, Marilyn felt that she was a divisive force in the house. She
wanted her time with Andy, but she didn't want to be divisive. There was a
fluttering of other hands.

"Let's put a little order in this," Iris said. "There has been one speech
for and two against. Who wants to speak for the motion?" Most of the hands
went down, but there seemed to be girls out of their seats whispering to
others. Iris recognized Crystal, a junior.

"I'm not certain I'm speaking in favor of Penelope's motion, but I'm sure
speaking in line with the problem she pointed out" Crystal began. "Look, we
all know that Andy is a nice guy, and he's been quite helpful to the house.
For that matter, Marilyn is one of the sisters who most consistently acts
for the good of Zeta. If anyone has the right to the private make-out room
on late Thursday afternoon, a time -- as Willa pointed out -- when there is
little demand, it is that couple.

"The problem is that the floor plans don't list a private make-out room.
They list a study room. I haven't seen a problem. After all, the study room
is empty late Wednesday afternoon and late Friday afternoon. But now that
the issue has been raised, we really should restore the room to its stated
purpose. I just hope Andy will continue the tutoring if he doesn't get the
instant gratification he's been used to. On the other hand, would Marilyn be
happy with her boyfriend meeting three other women every week in the private
make-out room?"

Crystal was right. And Marilyn saw that her behavior, if it hadn't been
divisive, would be divisive if she continued it. She stood when Crystal sat
down.

"May I speak?" Iris thought for a moment, then nodded. "Look, Crystal is
right. Okay, it started innocently. Andy and I studied together in the study
room. It was right after class, and we weren't taking anybody else's place.
Okay, after studying each afternoon, after a good deal of studying -- we
each got an A in each of the three classes we studied there together --
after studying we did what any one of you would have done with your
boyfriend in a quiet room with nobody to notice. After nearly a year went
by, Willa asked Andy to do some tutoring. Well, there was my boyfriend in
the house, in a room we'd used before. When the other women came out, I went
in." She took a deep breath.

"Somewhere along there, I crossed a line. It wasn't a very clear line, and
nobody brought it to my attention. But Crystal is right. I've been using the
room for a purpose other than its intended one. We'll find somewhere else."
She'd be damned if she'd say that Penelope had been right. Indeed, if
Penelope had raised the question privately, she'd have raised it with Andy
privately and found some other place, maybe some other time.

"I think this matter has been settled," Iris said. "Is there other
business?" There wasn't.

On Tuesday, when Andy was driving her to the movie, she told him.

"Look, everybody is grateful for the work you've been doing on College Math.
It's just that one of the girls raised the issue that the room is for
studying and not for canoodling. So we're going to have to find another
place. For now, can you drive your car Thursday afternoon? We could go out
in it then."

"Everybody would know."

"Andy, everybody already knows. That's the problem. If any other woman had
the chance to be private with her boyfriend in the house, she'd do the same
thing. Maybe not quite the same -- you lift me up, after all, and I enjoy
that -- but they'd be making out. And that room can accommodate our making
out, but it can't accommodate fifty couples' making out."

"Okay," Andy said, agreeable as always. She was grateful in one way. If he'd
refused to do any more tutoring, it would have caused all sorts of problems
for her in the house. On the other hand, wasn't making out with her
important enough to him that he'd make some protest? Why didn't he insist
that they skip the movie tonight and just park? She'd be willing to give him
that for his recent and future deprivation. Hell! She wanted that to make up
for her own recent deprivation.

But that wasn't how it went. They saw a movie with Andy hugging her but his
hands nowhere her mom wouldn't want to see them. They parked, and Andy
stroked her to the two climaxes that she expected on Tuesday dates.
Thursday, he came to the house and tutored her three sisters quite
thoroughly. She met him, and they went off in his car.

They drove off to a spot which would have been quite private at night. It
didn't feel private in the daytime glare. In the back seat, she felt exposed
with her tits bare. He stroked her legs and between her legs, but it was
much less exciting through the denim.

For that matter, meeting him after his tutoring and making out was one
thing. She was there; he was there. Meeting him and going someplace else to
make out felt much more blatant.

"Not quite the same, is it?" she asked when they were back in the front
seat.

"Not really."

"Maybe, we should find another time as well as another place." With that
comment, she had given him a perfect opening to suggest that he pick her up
as usual Tuesday but they skip the movie. He didn't. At the house, their
parting kiss was as sexy as usual, but she felt that it, somehow, was less
loving. Still, they were a couple Sunday, and she parked with him after the
movie Tuesday.

Once in the back sat and in his lap, she nestled into Andy's hug as the
gentle stroke of his finger took her arousal higher and higher. She loved
him, loved his gentleness, loved the knowledgeable way he aroused her.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said as she peaked. She wriggled as the pleasure washed
over her. After she'd peaked a second time, he withdrew his hand and hugged
her with both arms until she straightened in his lap.

"Want to go back?" he asked. Want to? not really. But they should. She
fixed her bra and blouse. Then they got back into the front seat. "Nicer
weather these days," Andy continued as he started the car. And so it was,
the dank gloom of winter was finally over. The U of I might be far south of
Evanston, but winter here was as bad.

"Would you like to go on a picnic for Saturday lunch?" he asked.

"You and me? Should I pack something?" She could con the house cooks out of
something. They weren't supposed to cook for individuals' special requests,
but they'd rather do that than have her mess around in their kitchen.

"Definitely you and me. I'm not that ambitious. I was planning to stop at
Burger King on the way. I'll bring a blanket for a table cloth -- ground
cloth? -- but we can eat in the car if the weather is too bad."

"Sounds like an idea." It sounded, in fact, like a great idea. They couldn't
make out after his tutoring sessions, any more, and they needed -- okay, she
wanted, another time and place. Well, he sounded like he wanted it too. Andy
was usually direct. His going around Robin Hood's barn by starting with the
weather sounded like he'd been nervous about her reaction.

"11:00 Saturday?"

"Sure."

His kiss on the front porch of Zeta house was sweet and long. Upstairs, in
her bed she thought about Andy. He was sweet, and the climaxes he gave her
were exciting. She loved him, and one thing she loved about him was that he
would always take no for an answer. He didn't push. It was just that,
sometimes, he didn't push enough. She had his fingers on her naked skin
because she had decided to wear nylons instead of pantyhose -- luckily,
she'd planned ahead enough to shop in the Loop. God knows if she could find
a garter belt in a Champaign store. Maybe she would have -- so much of the
town away from campus felt like '57 rather than '77.

The first time he'd brought her to a second climax, she'd been so shaken,
she'd asked him to stop at two. Ever since, he'd stopped at two. Maybe she
no longer wanted him to stop at two, but she sure wasn't prepared to say so.

Still, Andy was sweet. He wasn't a mind reader, but who was? Did she want
someone who wouldn't go quite so far or quite so fast as she maybe wanted,
or someone who would go farther than she wanted until she wrestled him out
of the mood? It was a conundrum with no answer. Well, tomorrow was another
day, and -- for that matter -- Saturday a different day again. With that
thought she dropped asleep.

She couldn't wear a dress to a picnic, whatever the Zate dress code for
dates. She wore a tee, jeans, and sneakers.

"Looks chancy," Andy said when they were near the Burger King. "Still wanta
try for the picnic?"

"Sure." She wasn't the wicked witch of the west. A little water wouldn't
melt her.

"Burgers? Shake? Something else?" Andy asked when they saw the building.

"One burger, ketchup, mustard, and relish. Strawberry shake."

"Three hamburgers, one with ketchup, mustard, and relish. Two with just
ketchup. Two strawberry shakes," he told the speaker.

With her holding their food, Andy drove for a ways and then turned off onto
a dirt road. He parked under some trees and got the blanket from the back
seat. Then they walked a couple of yards into the sunlit field. Although the
sky was still cloudy, she felt warm enough.

After a brief period of kissing, Andy spread the blanket. They finished
their meal and put all the garbage in a bag. They didn't want to be
litterbugs.

The next kisses were much longer. She and Andy were both lying down, and
their mouths reached even if her toes were nearly level with his knees. She
sat up a little to let him remove her tee. He kissed the corner where her
neck met her shoulder. When she shivered at that kiss, he reached for her
bra.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said when her tits were bare. After a flurry of kisses, he
skinned off his own tee. They shared a long open-mouthed kiss with his chest
hair tickling her tits. This felt much more intense than a clothed kiss did.
He kissed down across her tits to her belly button. That tickled.

With his hand on her belt, he looked up into her eyes. Well, yes. If skin
touching skin above their waists added to the thrill of the kiss, then they
needed more skin to touch. She reached down to slide the side zipper down.

"Oh, Marilyn." He pulled the jeans down but held her panties up when they
tried to follow. With only those covering her, he stroked all over her legs.
When his long fingers stroked the insides of her thighs, she melted.

He kissed her belly button again, kissed from there to her left tit then to
her nipple. He licked and sucked there until it was so hard it hurt. The
suction, the strokes on her thighs, even the soreness of the tight nipple,
were driving her arousal higher and higher.

He kissed towards the meeting place of her tits. The long, hard kiss there
was followed by his pressing her tits together around his face. His hands
clasped her tits; her tits clasped his smooth cheeks.

When his hand went back to her pussy, he kissed up her right tit to that
nipple. He licked and sucked it. She was reveling in those sensations when
he stopped kissing her and knelt back to stare her in the eyes.

"May I?" His hands were on the elastic of her panties.

She drew her feet up the blanket until her knees made sharp angles. "Yes,"
she answered, raising her hips. He slowly drew her panties down, continuing
down to her ankles. He took her socks off with them.

"Oh, Marilyn!" He was looking at her center. She moved her legs together
protectively. Then, thinking better of that, she scooted her feet down until
her legs were flat on the blanket and wide apart. "You are so beautiful."

He moved between her legs and kissed her mound once. As he kissed a path
upward, she brought her legs together and up. Her thighs hugged his chest
and her feet rested on his jean-clad butt. When he reached the valley
between her tits, he kissed there and then raised himself to kiss each
nipple. A moment later, he was at her mouth. For the longest time, his
tongue explored her mouth while his chest pressed against her tits. She
hugged his waist with her legs and crossed her ankles behind him. She closed
her eyes to savor all the sensations he was bringing her.

When Andy moved back, she pulled him to her with her legs briefly and then
let go. He moved to her right side and continued to kiss her -- first her
face and then her tits. His hand was back between her legs. He stroked the
inside of the thighs for a while, always getting closer to her pussy. When
he finally stroked over it, he was sucking her left nipple again.

"Oh, yes," she said. That felt so good. Moments later, he'd parted those
lips and was touching her clitoris. She closed her eyes more tightly and
pushed her center up towards his stroking hand.

She felt hot where he was caressing or kissing, but she was feeling chilly
anywhere he wasn't touching her. She shivered, shaking all over. Then
lightning struck within her. A tight band of fire in her center sent warmth
outward through her body in waves of pleasure.

"Ahh," she gasped. The lightning struck again and the waves sent more
pleasure even to the tips of her fingers and toes.

"Oh, Marilyn," Andy said. He kissed her mouth and she sank into the
sensations of his tongue there and his hand below. She was shivering
continuously now, and her eyes were so tightly closed that she felt darkness
gather around her when lightning struck within her. She felt the fire, but
could only see the dark. When lightning struck yet another time, she felt
that too much pleasure was going to turn into pain. She pushed his arm away.
She was replete. It was better than it ever had been, and he was still
kissing her eyelids, then her throat, then her tits.

The next lightning bolt was outside her, directly over her head. The sound
-- an awfully loud crack -- came with it. Her eyes flew open to see another
lightning bolt directly above her in a sky of black clouds. The rain struck
her all at once, and the wind was chilly.

"Go to the car," Andy said. "I'll get the stuff."

She got up, looked for the car, and ran barefoot towards it. She was already
cold and wet when she got inside. Andy opened the rear door a little later
and shoved the blanket inside. It was rolled into a ball.

"Minute," he said when he got in. He leaned over the back of the seat,
opened the blanket, fished around inside, and pulled out his tee. He handed
it to her. "Sorry. Isn't much of a towel, but it's all I have."

She wiped off her face and upper body. Andy, beside her, looked drenched.
Even his jeans, still on unlike hers, looked soaked. The rain was coming
down in sheets and drumming on the car roof.

"I need to move onto gravel before this soaks in," Andy said. He started the
car and turned on the wipers. She held his tee in front of her torso. As she
couldn't see out, it was quite unlikely that anyone could see in -- even if
someone was crazy enough to be out in this weather. Still, she felt exposed.
Even though Andy drove slowly, she felt the rear wheels slip. Finally, he
got around the trees to the road they'd come in on. It had been empty then,
and anyone using it now would be crazy. The glass had fogged up. Andy turned
on the defogger with no result.

"Sorry," Andy said. He opened the door on his side, managed to turn around
so he was kneeling on the seat, and went back into the blanket. He dropped
her clothes into her lap as he found them. She got on her bra and her tee.
She used his tee to wipe off her butt and upper legs before pulling on her
panties. The jeans would be a production inside the car. Andy laid her shoes
and socks on the seat beside her and turned back around. He pulled his door
closed.

"Well, this was a disaster," he said, "sorry." He turned off the wipers, but
turned on the lights. They weren't going anywhere, but Andy, careful as
always, protected them from any idiot who was.

"Look, did you plan this rainstorm? If not, why apologize?" He'd warned her
of the risk of a storm, even though she could see it for herself. He should
drop the 'sorry's. "I was having a fine time before the rain hit, though it
might be good that it did." Did she want to make love to Andy? Well, she
didn't want to decide like that. Getting carried away was fine, but a smart
girl was prepared to get carried away. And what had happened to Andy,
dependable, slow-moving Andy? He wasn't the man to move more than one step
at a time, or even two steps in two times. They'd taken more steps this
afternoon than they'd taken the previous year, and the most important steps
of the previous year had been her doing.

"Well, it couldn't have gone much further," he said. It could have gone, it
would have gone, one step further. "I didn't have anything." She looked at
him in astonishment.

"Well," he said, "I might want you to marry me, but I sure as hell don't
want you to <b>have</b> to marry me." This was surprising, and it must have
surprised him, too. He was blushing enough to be visible in this dark car.
They'd never mentioned marriage. Could he have stopped? He was suggesting he
could, and -- to be fair -- <b>he</b> still had his pants on. At that
thought, she started to pull her jeans over her feet. "I mean..." he said.

"Look, you already said more than you wanted to. Actually, I think it was
sweet." The suggestion that contraception was his responsibility sure was.
Her sisters might have complained that Andy was dull, but her one man took
more responsibility than all their boys did. "Let's not go there right now.
Help me with these." She'd got her jeans up until the jeans material was
bunched about mid-thigh.

"Sure. Try kneeling on the seat." That was easier said than done. She
finally stood half up while he pulled the jeans up to her waist.

"Hold my back." When he did, she got the jeans closed. She sat back down and
looked at her feet. The tops were wet, and she could feel that the bottoms
were covered by grit from the floor of the car. "I don't want to use your
tee on my feet."

"Well, I want to put it back on. We aren't going anywhere before this lets
up. There are still some napkins in the blanket. I'll get some before we
start." That would be fine. For that matter, she could go back barefoot.
Andy could probably carry her from the car to the porch. The picture of
that, and her sisters' faces if he did, was suddenly hilarious. She started
giggling, and, then, the whole situation struck her as even funnier than the
possible return. Her giggles turned to honest laughter.

After a minute, Andy joined in. They sat like that, howling away in a closed
car on a farm road in the middle of a downpour.

"We're a pair, aren't we?" said Andy. And that set them off again. When
they'd recovered this time, the drum of the rain on the car roof was --
while steady -- less torrential. Andy cracked the window on his side. "Looks
like it's letting up."

"Yeah." The more violent, the shorter the time it could last. Which applied
to her laughter as much as the rain. This set her to giggling again, but she
didn't share her thoughts. The rain faded again.

"Want me to get those napkins now?" She thought of him carrying her to the
porch. Then she thought of tracking the grit up the stairs. The house mother
would have her ass.

"Please." Instead of kneeling on the seat again, he got out in the rain,
opened the back door, got the napkins, and returned. When she'd cleaned off
her feet and put socks and sneakers back on, he put the car in drive and
headed back.

"Great picnic, huh?" he said. He was still criticizing himself. Criticizing
him was her job. Besides, she just might like another picnic like this one,
but drier, some day.

"Great picnic. Bet we'll remember it a long time." Of course, if it hadn't
rained, it would have been her first time. A woman really remembered that.

Back in the house, showered and in new clothes, she thought about the
afternoon. Clearly, she couldn't depend on rain storms. Either she went all
the way or she stopped further back. She didn't doubt that Andy would stop
when she told him to, but telling him at some points wouldn't be fair --
might not even be possible. Did she want to stop sooner? The feelings had
been delightful, better than it had ever been after a date.

And Andy always responded as if she were special; way back, he'd never been
like 'Oh tits,' but like 'Oh, Marilyn!' He thought he could stop where they
had been stopped, but she wouldn't have stopped there without a rainstorm.
And, really, his sounding like he'd been surprised at how far they'd gone
didn't reassure her that he could.

Well, now she'd gone as far with Andy as she ever had with Colin. She loved
Andy more than she ever had Colin, and it was only fair that they go as far.
She loved Andy more, but did she want to go the next step?

Well, she'd wanted to think this out without Andy around. His presence would
be a strong erotic influence. That might just be her answer. She loved Andy,
and she wanted him. He should be her first. Maybe they might get married
someday, although she was going to treat that comment as if he hadn't made
it; it had clearly embarrassed him. But, even if they parted sometime, he
was still important in her life. And he was a nice guy.

That he wasn't pushing her pushed her in an odd way. Colin had pushed her,
making her now believe that he'd simply wanted sex -- she'd been his best
likelihood. Andy wanted her. He wanted to make out with her, but he wanted
to go to dances with her and sit in the movies with her. Hell, he even
wanted to sit in church with her. She never suspected that if she drew a
line he'd go look for another girl who was more permissive. Well, Andy being
Andy, he might not go that far again. Still, she had decided that if he did,
she wouldn't try to stop him. And that meant that she should be prepared.

That Monday, she dropped into Student Health. It wasn't as easy as she'd
thought it would be, but by Thursday she had a dispenser of pills in her
room. And just in time, too. Her period started that night. The problem was
that they didn't take effect immediately.

At first, she thought she'd taken the precaution needlessly. For a week,
Andy didn't even mention their picnic in the rain.

Early the next week, though, he invited her on a picnic for that Saturday
and she accepted. They got the same order, drove to almost the same
location. It was a bright day, and he parked under the trees and spread his
blanket in the shade. After their first kiss, he turned her around to hold
her. She could feel his erection against her back. He bent down to kiss her
neck. His kissing her there always turned her on.

"You go ahead," he said. "I've got what I want to eat right here." He
nibbled at her neck with his lips.

"Silly." She sat down, and he sat down across from her. They ate their lunch
and put all the garbage into the original bag. She took the napkins and put
them in her back pocket.

"I've got a towel in the car," he said, smiling. When he stretched out on
the blanket and put the bag behind him, she stretched out facing him with
their heads level. They had a warm kiss, then a hot one. He stroked her arm,
her back, then her tit. When she sat up to pull off her tee, he sat up and
pulled off his.

"Lie face down," he said. When she did, he unhooked her bra. He began
kissing her back at the shoulder. She felt a little aroused and a lot
cherished. He pushed aside the bra strap to continue down to her waist. When
he started back up, she turned over. He took her bra from her and put it on
her tee at the corner of the blanket. "You are so lovely." He kissed a path
upward towards her tits.

When he'd kissed and sucked them until her nipples were hard, he went on to
her mouth. He lay on her, though they were both still dressed below the
waist. They had a lovely kiss with his legs between hers and his chest hairs
tickling her nipples. He was loving her and arousing her, but she couldn't
help feeling that all this was preparatory.

He kissed down to her waist. He unbuckled the belt and opened her jeans.
These fit more loosely. They didn't look as sexy, but Andy would remove the
sexy ones, anyway. Instead of taking the jeans off, he sat back and removed
her shoes and socks. Then he removed his own. He pressed his bare feet
against hers -- parts of their bodies which had never touched. He lay down
beside her and gave her tits a kiss. Then he took the jeans off. Again, he
was careful to leave the panties on.

"Oh, Marilyn." He kissed her tits and then lay down on his back. He brought
her hand to his belt buckle. She'd get her chance to undress him. She sat up
and began unbuckling his belt. He grabbed her hand when she started to
caress his hard on. "That's too much," he said. "Just seeing you is already
scarily exciting."

When she'd opened his jeans, he fished in one pocket. He took out what had
to be a condom packet and put it on the blanket by her shoulder. He looked
her straight in the eye. He was saying something, but what? That this time
he'd brought something? That he would take care of her? He stripped off his
jeans before kissing her again. His underpants were white briefs. She could
see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband. Then he kissed down
to her waist, stopping a long time on both tits. He held the waistband of
her panties in both hands while looking her in the eye again. This message
was plain, and she raised her hips to help him get her panties off.

"Oh, Marilyn." He kissed her mound and then up to her tits. His kisses there
were nice, but she didn't feel that he was giving them enough attention. He
kept shifting his legs around. When he knelt between her legs, she spread
them to make that easier. Then he stopped all contact. He was on his knees
but perfectly vertical, dealing with the packet. His cock drew her eyes.
She'd only seen one other, and Andy's seemed long and thin -- rather like
his body in a way. While the head of Colin's cock had been only slightly
wider than the shaft, Andy's swelled out like an arrowhead. For the first
time, she felt nervous. Could she hold all that inside her? It looked
awfully long from here. Then he got the condom on and bent to her again. His
eyes held hers.

"Sweet Marilyn." While he kissed her tits, she raised her knees to his
chest. "Should we?"

She nodded. Her mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. He moved up her body,
His hand went to her hip and then to her pussy. He kissed her chin, her
mouth. When he kissed the tip of her nose, she felt him put his tip in the
entrance to her pussy. He moved up her torso, and he was entering her. She
felt the lips spread, and then she felt herself being filled. Despite her
fears, there wasn't the slightest pain, not even discomfort. He stopped when
he had filled her.

"Darling, oh sweet. Is it okay?" It was, she felt wonderful. "May I move?"

"Sure. I'm fine." He stared into her eyes from inches away while he drew his
hips up. She felt him leave her mound and rise between her thighs. She felt,
quite acutely, him slip out of her pussy. Her entrance was stretched again
by the head of his cock. Then his middle thrust forward again, and she was
filled again -- more rapidly. Even more rapidly, he withdrew, and she was
emptied while her entrance was stretched. Then he rushed inward. She felt
him pulse deep within her.

"Oh, God!... Oh, Marilyn! I'm sorry." Apparently, he was finished. He moved
off her and flung himself down on the blanket. "I exploded immediately. It
must have been awful for you." Well, this talk was starting to make it
fairly bad. She went from that.

"Andy. That was my first time. Don't make my memory of my first time be all
about your moaning."

"Okay. Sorry... It was my first time, too." Yeah. She could tell.

"All right," she said. "We're starting together. We're learning together.
Don't you like it better than if I'd had tons of experience with some older
man?"

"God, yes."

"Well, maybe I'm glad that you didn't have some woman educate you. We'll
learn together." And, really, Andy was great with his fingers and his lips.
He'd probably learn this part, too.

"Oh, Marilyn, you are so wise." He leaned over and kissed her. The kissing
turned to making out. There was no urgency in his motions, just stroking all
over her.

He might not feel urgency, but -- after a while -- she did. She pushed his
face down towards her tits. He kissed and sucked them both while his hand
stroked her pussy. As she tensed, he sucked her left nipple hard and then
lifted his mouth. Lightning struck within her. The part he'd stretched a
little tightened a lot. Fire from her center spread through her as warmth
and pleasure. As his finger kept moving, lightning struck again.

"Oh, Marilyn," he said. She lay back to savor the feelings, and he kissed
her eyes shut. He kissed all over her face and down her neck. He kissed down
to her mound. He kissed each thigh once, and then lay down beside her. "Turn
away," he said. She didn't want to lose sight of him, but when she did, she
was compensated by the feel of him against her back.

He kissed her ear, chuckling when she squirmed. It was both from the tickle
and from the pleasure. Holding her, he pressed his hand against her mound.
She first snuggled back more firmly against his chest and then raised her
right leg. That seemed to be what he wanted as he put his hand against her
pussy lips immediately. One of his fingers parted those lips while his lips
kissed the side of her neck. He kept stroking slowly until the lightning
struck again. When it did, the fire thrust her legs back and her mound
forward against his hand.

"Oh Marilyn," he said. As she relaxed, she felt him hard against the back of
her leg.

"It feels like you want to do it again."

"Want to? How could I not want to? The question is whether you want to."

"Really, I do." What in hell was all the talk about, anyway? His fingers
weren't 'real sex,' but they brought real pleasure. What was 'real' about
that half minute when his cock had been in her?

"Then lie back." He reached for his jeans. She supposed he didn't want her
watching this time, but she did. He took a string of packets out of his
pocket, tore one off, and then tore it open. When it was on, he got between
her legs. Then he slowed back down.

He kissed her deeply, and then kissed down to her tits. He moved between her
legs while spreading kisses over both tits. His fingers on her pussy aroused
her until she felt her hips pushing up against his hand. As he moved upwards
on her body, she grabbed his waist with her knees. He kissed her lips
lightly. Then she felt him at her entrance.

"Oh, Marilyn." He spread her entrance and pushed inward until he'd filled
her. He stared into her eyes. She loved him, and at that moment he looked
like he loved her, too

"Oh, darling." He kissed her hairline. Then he raised his hips between her
legs and pulled his firmness almost out of her pussy. "You are so smooth, so
warm." He was warm, too, as he moved in her. As he began stroking in and
out, she felt her excitement rise again. "Oh, love," he said. He was still
watching her face.

"Yes, Andy." She locked her ankles behind his butt. As he came down, she
pulled with them until she raised her pussy to fill herself with him. As he
raised up, she relaxed her legs. He increased his pace, and she matched him.
Suddenly, surprising her because she was concentrating on matching his
rhythm, the lightning struck yet again. The fire was hotter, the waves
stronger. The pleasure was hotter and spread faster. She could feel his
hardness as she clamped around him. "Oh!"

"Darling," he said. He thrust down again and buried his length in her. She
ran her heels down the back of his legs, straightening hers. "Oh, Marilyn.
Oh, darling." She could feel his pulsing within her own contractions. "Oh,
sweet."

He fell onto his elbows. His face was much nearer hers. She could see him
gasp, the breath spreading his lips when he exhaled. She was gasping
herself. His weight was on her stomach, but she wanted him that close.

Those waves of pleasure had been what all the excitement was about. That had
been her first real sex. Now, she could understand why everybody wanted it.

When her legs relaxed, he moved off her. She wanted to complain, but he had
been heavy and the ground was hard. She felt him reach back and pull
something out of her -- the condom, certainly. He lay on his side and moved
so he was against her arm. He put one arm around her.

"Oh, Marilyn. Oh, Darling. You are so sweet! I can't tell you."

"You're not bad, yourself."

"You said that we're learning together. It seems to me that we learned
something very good."

"Oh yes." And, just maybe, they might learn more. Still, it seemed unlikely
that there was more beyond what she'd experienced this afternoon -- a soft
bed, maybe. She rolled to her side and then backed against him. He kissed
her head and stroked her.

The sun invaded their shade, but they didn't move until it was much lower.
Then they dressed. A little of Andy had dried on her leg. In the car,
somehow, the afternoon was over. They were something else, friends, a
couple, but not the lovers they had been on the blanket.

"10:30 tomorrow?" Andy asked

"Do you want to?" Few of the church members would approve of what they'd
just been doing, if they knew. Somehow, she was a different person, they
were a different couple, than they'd been the previous Sunday, though she'd
already been taking the Pill then.

"Oh, yes." He paused. "Where else are we a couple in the same way?" There
was that, and they were more certainly a couple now than they'd been this
morning.

"Why not? ... Let's go, I mean."

When she got back to the house, she showered and changed before supper. She
looked around the tables, a quarter full on a Saturday night. They were her
sisters, the same women with whom she had eaten supper for most of the
previous year. She, on the other hand, was entirely different.

The next morning, nobody in church seemed to see the difference. She was
glad she'd come. After all, she realized on the way back, if some of the
church members had thought them married when they'd first gone, despite the
lack of a ring and the introduction by different last names, they had to
have thought that they were having sex, too. Married people did. She might
feel different, she might feel more related to Andy, but that wasn't
something that showed to the outside world. But she did feel closer to Andy,
even separated physically as they must be for him to drive the car.

"I love you," she said suddenly.

"Oh, I love you too." And, back at the Zeta house, when he'd walked her to
the porch, his good-bye kiss was sexier and longer than any previous kiss
had been after services.

Zeta Sunday dinner was pot roast -- a lot fancier than a hamburger and
shake, although that didn't make up for the change in company. Afterwards,
there was Chapter Meeting. After the ceremony, Iris called on Donna, the
academic chair.

"Look," Donna said, "what I've seen of test results so far isn't good news.
Our house GPA last semester was nearly three tenths of a point lower than
the all-sorority average. Ours will be higher this semester because pledge
period is over, but so will everyone else's." She went on about trying
harder, but Marilyn could afford to tune her out. At a bit above 3.4, her
GPA was comfortably above the all-sorority average, and it didn't look like
collapsing this semester. Simple arithmetic said that a shift from a B to an
A in one woman's three-credit course made as much difference as a shift from
a D to a C in another's. Nobody pushed girls like Marilyn, though -- nobody
but Andy, and he pushed very gently. His horror over his once getting a B in
Calculus pushed her more than anything he said about her grades.

Indeed, Andy's tutoring her sisters taking College Algebra was counted by
everyone in the house as a contribution by Marilyn to the chapter academic
push. She started to pay attention when Andrea raised an objection.

"Look, that's all fine for you to say," she said. "But some of us have
problems with trying for academic success. Carl and I have the same major,
Business Management. I got better grades than he got on two exams, two
different courses at almost the same time. And, boy, did I hear about it.
Now, you want me to study more and get higher grades, but my boyfriend
doesn't like a woman to outperform him. I'm not going to cram. That's like
trying to lose him."

Marilyn raised her hand at that, and Iris called on her.

"Look, If one of you has a boyfriend who thinks your grades are too high,
maybe you don't need different grades, maybe you need a different
boyfriend." That brought a flurry of comments, none of them even trying to
be recognized. "Yeah, I know what you're saying. That's easy enough for me
to say since my boyfriend makes dean's list. But, back when we started
studying together, I got an A on a test which Andy's section took later and
he didn't have his grade, yet -- an English test. Andy was happy for me,
even before he knew what his grade was. And much less of Carl's identity is
wrapped up in his intellectual achievement than Andy's is."

"We should hope so," said Merrilie low enough so Andrea probably didn't hear
it, but Marilyn could.

"Look," Marilyn continued, "I'm not trying to compare boyfriends."

"Lucky for her," said Frances. She was across the room, but she spoke loudly
enough that Marilyn could hear her clearly. Well, she hadn't been
recognized, and Marilyn would ignore her. She went on with her thought.

"I'm not even complaining that boys have such fragile egos. We all know
that. It's just that it seems to me that our doing less than our best is a
damn heavy price for <b>us</b> to pay because <b>they</b> haven't grown up."
Having said what she wanted to say, she sat down.

The meeting didn't resolve anything. Really, some girls would buckle down to
their books a little more, and some wouldn't.

"Thanks for the help, Marilyn," Donna said after the meeting broke up.

"I'm not sure whether it was a help or hindrance, and I wasn't really trying
to address your issue. I was addressing Andrea's. I just get tired of our
always having to make way for the male ego."

"How would you feel if you made more than your husband?"

"Shocked, mostly at being married.

"Seriously, I don't think it's likely to be a problem. I'm going into
education. And, probably, I made that choice thinking that I'd get married
and my husband would really support the family. Still, that's a hell of a
long ways from holding back. I'm going to do something important with my
life -- important if poorly compensated."

"And Andy will support you?"

"Well, you're much surer about us than we are." She wasn't going to discuss
with Andy his blurting out about marriage, much less with Donna. They went
their separate ways.

Marilyn changed to jeans and a tee in her room and took her books down to
the study room. She had assignments for the weekend, and most of the weekend
had gone. There were more girls there than usual, maybe Donna's talk had
done some good. She left her books there over supper and went back to
studying until her work was done.

The other two were in bed when she got to her room they were either asleep
or too nearly asleep to make small talk. After she'd changed and had her
bathroom time, she lay in equal silence. But Donna's question stayed with
her. Would Andy support her? Financially, sure. Not now, but getting married
before graduation was a sucker's choice. Things could happen in the next two
years; Andy could get hit by a truck or fall in love with another girl.
Somehow, she thought the truck was the greater risk. But without some
catastrophic accident, he was going to graduate in two years and go to work
as an engineer. They made decent salaries, if not great ones. And Andy's
dream was of producing, not consuming. If she let him, he'd go to work in
the clothes he now went to class in.

If his wife let him. She hadn't decided to marry him yet. For that matter,
he hadn't really asked her yet.

And a school teacher made enough financially to survive, if not to flourish.
Many of the boys she knew going into teaching were the first of their
families going to college. It was a step up into the middle class. More of
the girls were like her -- already middle class, expecting to marry middle
class, wanting to make a difference while somebody else brought in the
larger paycheck.

And Andy would, if they did -- as she hadn't decided yet -- get married,
support her emotionally. He'd say that teaching was something important. He
sincerely believed that, if less sincerely about HS English than college
math teachers. And he'd treat her as having responsibilities -- not only
responsibilities to him. He already treated her this way, really. Really, he
was a nice guy.

Even that first time, when physically he hadn't been all that hot, he'd said
the right words. You didn't think of Andy as the Cyrano type -- more
Rostand's Christian, with "Oh, Marilyn" substituting for "I love you,"
though Andy said that, too. But when they'd been about to do it, he'd said
just the right words. He'd said, "Should we?" It wasn't "Let me": it wasn't
even "May I?" That had been for removing her panties. It had been a question
about something <b>they</b> were going to do. And, the second time, they'd
done it quite well. And it wasn't a sudden burst of eloquence. He said
"Should we" because he thought of it as something they did. Until it gang
agley. Then he'd taken full responsibility.

And, of course, it really had been his responsibility, if less dire than
he'd made it out to be. But how many boys take responsibility for their
actions. Not Andrea's Carl, that was certain. When he did poorly on a test,
it was Andrea's fault for doing better. Donna had asked the wrong woman her
question about salaries. Andrea and Carl were studying the same stuff,
heading for similar careers. If they got married and Andrea got a higher
salary than Carl did sometime, then would he accept it? That was a lot of
ifs, but the basic question remained. How long did you go on hiding your
light under a bushel in fear that it would outshine your man's.

She'd wondered if everyone could tell. They couldn't, and, probably, her
sorority sisters would be less surprised that they'd done it yesterday than
that they hadn't done it before. Her roommates had asked at the beginning of
the year. That was the last game of truth-or-dare she'd ever play. Just
maybe some of the people at church had thought they'd done it before, too.
They were a couple, obviously, and that's what couples do. And it was
certainly what older people imagined that college-student couples did.

And, in the game of truth-or-dare her fellow freshmen had said who their
first men were. How many of those were with the same guys now? Of course,
some of those first times were in high school, and high-school romances
didn't carry on through college. Still, she'd only seen two cocks in her
life; most of her sisters had made love to more guys than that. Then she
realized that she'd seen more than two. When she was young, she used to take
baths with Pete. She was certain to have seen little Peter's little peter.
As a matter of fact, she could remember the last bath. She'd been what?
eight? Her interest and Pete's pride and embarrassment were probably what
convinced Mom to stop that practice. But, really, that was different, and,
probably, Pete's cock was different from what it had been when he was five.
His embarrassment might be, also, but she'd bet his pride wasn't.

She'd been scared of Andy's, and that was strange. She could remember what
she'd felt with Colin. She'd been angry, and offended. He'd had no right to
use her to satisfy himself after what they'd had together. And, yes, she'd
been frightened, but of his strength and of having sex, not of his organ.
Maybe that was the difference. When she'd decided to make love to Andy, then
the mechanics of the act were scary. The first time, after all, she had a
right to be scared. When she'd wanted the act, the mechanics had been a
problem. The mechanics were still a problem, for that matter, although much
less so. Maybe she could leave worrying about mechanics to the engineer.
With Colin, she hadn't been bothered by the mechanics because she'd been too
busy rejecting the act.

She'd actually been hurt by Colin -- probably more than she'd feared Andy
might hurt her. Of course, she'd hurt Colin, too. And he'd been such a baby
about it, whining that she hadn't needed to scratch him. She'd bet that Andy
wouldn't whine about a little scratching and biting. Not that Andy ever gave
her a reason to scratch or bite; a simple no would stop him. Maybe,
sometime, she'd do a little scratching while saying yes.

And she drifted off to sleep on those thoughts.

Monday, she shown in class. Tuesday, except for PE, she shown in a different
set of classes. She was taking tennis, and not doing all that well. Andy had
taken it earlier, and not done well either. If they had a future, that was
one thing they could do together, avoid the tennis courts.

Tuesday evening, she took a larger handbag to the movie,  she had an empty
plastic bag in it.

"I love you," Andy said before opening the door on her side.

"I love you, too." They shared a kiss. The same thing happened getting out
of the car outside the theater. While watching the movie, his arm was around
her back and his hand as far from her tit as ever. The hug as firmer,
though, and it held her against him. In the ladies' after the movie, she
removed her panties in the stall. She put them in the bag in her purse.
Again, Andy declared his love and kissed her before opening the car door for
her.

When they climbed into the back seat, she went into his lap without doing
any of her own undressing on top. Andy unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it
out of her skirt, then he opened her bra.

"I love you so much," he said. Then he kissed her before she could respond.
His tongue explored her mouth while his hand cupped her tit. His other hand
stroked up her leg. When he reached her bare mound, he gasped into her
mouth.

He stroked her to completion, cupped her when she pulled his arm inward,
stroked her to completion again. He stopped then, cupping her again, and she
held his arm so she could stop him if he tried to withdraw.

"Oh, Marilyn. May I?" She nodded, and he kept stroking her to completion.
When her clit began to feel abraded, she stopped him and pushed his arm
away.

"Oh, darling, was that too much?"

"Andy." Let's get this <b>clear</b>, right now. "Andy, when I say stop --
even when my hands say stop -- that's the time to stop. Don't go on after
that, but don't try to guess what I want before that."

"Okay.... Oh, Marilyn, I love you so. Cuddling okay, now?"

"Sure." Actually, right then, cuddling was delightful. He hugged her close,
then hugged her lightly while swaying in his seat. He kissed her head, and
she kissed his shoulder.

"Saturday?" he asked after they finally got into the front seat.

"Sure."

"Oh, darling. I love you so." And, after the kiss on the sorority porch, he
said one more "love." She loved him, too.

Saturday, he declared his love again before opening her car door.

"Whopper," she said suddenly when they were in line. He got three Whoppers
and two strawberry shakes. She could barely finish her sandwich and actually
left some of her shake. Andy seemed to have no trouble with two Whoppers.
Okay, he was big, but his stomach was flat. Where did it go?

After a preliminary kiss, Andy kissed all over her face, neck, and ears
before reaching the neck of her tee. When he drew that off, he kissed a line
down to her hand and back up the inside of her arm. From her shoulder, he
kissed down to her bra before removing that.

"Fair's fair," she said. He took off his tee, and they had a lovely kiss
mouth-to-mouth with their bare chests touching. He was back kissing her
breasts soon enough, and she was almost wiggling with desire before he left
them. He kissed all over her stomach, heading for her belt but not in a
direct line.

"Oh, I love you," he said. He kissed her belly button, tickling her but
increasing her arousal. "All of you." When he reached her belt, he looked
her in the eye while opening it. He didn't ask permission, but he was still
-- after all this time -- giving her a chance to say no. His eyes went back
to his work while he loosened the jeans. When he looked at her again, she
raised up. He drew the jeans down to her ankles, and then started on her
tennies.

"Love all of you," he said when she was wearing nothing but her panties.
Then he kissed her foot.

"Andy!" Her feet were dirty.

"Okay." He kissed her ankle, and then -- by very gradual stages -- up the
inside of her leg. When he started down her left leg, he was licking as
often as kissing. She wiggled, and her arousal kept spiraling upwards. The
trip down from the knee to her ankle was less exciting, and she was just as
glad. He took off his tennies and lay beside her. She undid his belt and
unzipped his jeans. He took a strip of condom packets out of his pocket
before taking off his jeans.

After he took them off, they shared a sexy kiss. His tongue stroked hers.
His chest hairs tickled her nipples. His belly pressed down on her mound.
His legs were warm and furry between her thighs.

"I love you," he said as he got up from the kiss. He knelt to take off her
panties. "Oh, Marilyn. You are so beautiful." He kissed her thighs as he
swept the panties over her feet, then her mound. "All of you, but especially
this." He kissed her mound again, and then kissed up to her tits. He was
sucking her left nipple when his hands brushed between her thighs. She
rubbed her hands over his back and shoulders while he stroked her between
the lips and over her clit.

She felt heat and tension flow through her. The feelings started in her
nipple and clit, but they spread everywhere. When lightning flashed within
her, the sensations didn't ease off. Lightning flashed again, and yet again.
When she collapsed, he let her go.

Then his mouth was on her left breast and his hand was back at her center.
Her arousal spiraled upwards, and she lay back to enjoy the sensations.
Before she reached completion, though, Andy's hand and mouth left her. She
was about to pull his hand back when she felt him climb between her legs.
She felt him at her entrance.

"Oh, Marilyn." He felt somehow larger when he thrust between her lips.
Still, he didn't hurt when he filled her.  ." He kissed her forehead. He
stroked out slowly. "Love" he said at every instroke. Her arousal spiraled
again. She spread her feet on the blanket and pushed up against him. She
grabbed his butt with both hands and pulled on the instrokes. She loved him,
and she felt herself on the edge.

Then lightning struck again. She felt his firmness and his motion as she
clasped around him. When he said "love" the lightning flashed within her.
Finally, he shouted it and drove into her harder and deeper. She could feel
him pulsing within her last clutches. She'd felt wonderful, and, somehow,
the afterglow was brightened by her memory that he'd said "love" while she
had such pleasure.

He lay on her, pressing her into the ground. She hugged his dear body
tightly. When she let go, he grabbed his center, moved off, and lay beside
her.

"I do love you, though," he said.

"Love you, too."

"You do? Oh, Marilyn. Oh, darling." Well, she thought, they wouldn't be
doing this if she didn't love him. Still, you couldn't help being flattered
by his response.

"Love all of you," he said. He kissed her face and ears. When she pulled him
into a real kiss, he cooperated. Indeed, their tongues wrestled until she
needed to breathe. When he left her mouth, however, he kissed down her neck
to her shoulder, then down her arm to her hand. He finished by turning her
hand over and planting a big kiss in the middle of her palm.

"Turn over, will you?" he asked. He started kissing up her arm again. When
he got to her shoulder, he kissed to her neck and then down her spine. When
his hand went between her legs, it felt too constricted like that. She
spread her legs to give him more room. He stroked her lower lips while
kissing all over her back. She started off seeing the humor of it, but soon
her arousal blocked any impulse to giggle. He stopped kissing, but not
stroking, when the arousal tensed her all over. He took her wrist in his
other hand.

Heat concentrated just where he was touching her until her clit burned. Then
it pulsed outward until her entire body was warm. Lightning struck. She
twisted in his grip. He didn't let go of her wrist, though, nor relax his
pressure on her rump.

"Oh, Marilyn. Oh, how beautiful you are." When she relaxed, he removed his
hands, but he kissed her back, her butt, and then the creases where each hip
joined its leg. "Lovely, delightful, sweet."

"Let me turn over," she said. All this being kissed and being praised was
delightful, but she felt that she wasn't participating.

"Well, there are parts I haven't kissed yet." But he moved off her and back.
She turned over. There were definitely parts that hadn't kissed him in a
very long while. When she was lying on her side, she pulled his head into
position and kissed him. His tongue explored her mouth. When it withdrew,
hers followed it into his mouth. He finally sucked on it.

While they were kissing, his hand was stroking all over her. Finally, he
pushed against her shoulder. When she lay down, he kissed her forehead, nose
tip, and then her mouth again. She spread her legs to accommodate his hand.
They continued the kiss as he stroked her groove once more. As she stiffened
in arousal, he left her mouth for her tit. He was sucking her nipple when
lightning struck. And he kept sucking and stroking as the fire spread from
her center.

He left his hand there, cupping her but unmoving, as she relaxed. He lay his
head on her shoulder with his lips against the top of her tit. He wasn't
quite kissing it, but she could feel his breath there.

"Oh, Marilyn, you are so..." His voice trailed off, but his tone was
caressing. His hand began stroking he outer lips again. Still later, a
finger slipped between them. He'd seemed greedy earlier -- not selfish, he
was kissing her and caressing her, but greedy -- he seemed satisfied now.
Rather than exploring new territory, he was enjoying ground he'd already
claimed as his own.

Well, there was unexplored territory present, just not on her body. She
turned her right arm, close to him but constrained by his closeness, and
rubbed the back of her hand along his arm. The light hair tickled. She
turned the arm again to stroke her little finger across his thigh. Then she
felt his pubic hair. It was thick and wiry. She reached up her left hand to
his head to compare. His head hair was long, thick, but smooth and soft --
not stiff at all. The hair her right hand was moving through was stiff and
kinky.

"It's all sticky," he said suddenly. Well, when she reached his cock it was
sticky. It was also warm and soft. It remained warm while she held it, but
grew less soft. The outer skin, sticky or not, was soft and smooth. As she
experimentally moved it up and down, she felt that the inside was firm --
and getting firmer -- but smooth. The feel of it in her hand was quite
arousing, and she felt powerful, too. This firmness was something she was
doing to him.

"Do you want to put it on?" he asked suddenly. Well, yes, she did.

For one thing, she'd not actually seen it go on the last time. Not that
she'd been worrying about that at the time, not that she didn't trust Andy,
but -- really -- being responsible meant that <b>she</b> should be sure. For
another, it was something to do with her new toy besides just hold it.

"Yeah."

He got up and knelt between her legs without removing his hand. He grabbed a
packet from somewhere she couldn't see and brought it to his mouth to tear
it open. He handed her the ring with the film across it.

"The lubrication goes on the outside." Yeah, she could see that.

He was kneeling between her legs with his own together. His head and torso
were over hers, but his thighs were straight up. The penis looked as
threatening as it had the first time -- not as cute as it had felt. Still
she got the condom on and rolled it down. There was little part of the
condom that stuck up.

He shuffled back on his knees, then bent to kiss her tits. She felt him at
her entrance, then starting in.

"Oh, Marilyn." She tried to feel the sensations she'd felt with her fingers,
but it was just his firm smoothness pressing her lips apart and gliding into
her. He stopped to kiss her neck, sucking deeply. Then she was full with the
special fullness that was Andy. He kissed her hairline. "Oh, Marilyn. You
are so sweet, so smooth, so warm. I love you so." He raised himself on his
arms. "Look me in the face!"

As she did, he began to move in and out with long, agonizingly slow strokes.
She felt his head come out before it went back in. His face looked more
intent than happy, although he made kissing movements with his mouth once
when he saw her looking at him. His eyes were hard and focused on hers. They
drew her eyes, although the sensations in her lower torso were taking all
her attention.

She was growing warmer and warmer where Andy was going in and out so slowly.
She felt every muscle in her body tighten. The warmth turned to fire right
there. The lightning struck again.

"Oh, love," Andy said. The lightning kept striking, and he kept moving. But
he was moving too slowly. She thrust up against him to bury him in her more
rapidly. She fell back as he drew back. Then she was meeting a much harder
thrust. It pushed her back on the blanket, and he was throbbing inside her.

"Darling Marilyn," he said. He fell towards her, but then moved off to one
side. No! She grabbed him with arms and legs. They fell sort of sideways.
Then they were gasping in each others' faces. Andy reached down and gripped
himself as he pulled out. Then they lay quietly for some time. She could see
the love on his face and supposed he must see the love on hers.

After a while, they extricated themselves from the tangle. Andy put the
condom in the bag with the other garbage. She found the rest of her shake
and drank from it. She offered him the last. When he'd drained the shake and
put the cup in the bag, they lay back down but with her back to him. They
cuddled like that for a while. She looked at her watch.

"Have to get back?" he asked.

"Don't have to..." Indeed it wasn't four O'clock yet. "But..."

"Yeah. Feeling antsy?"

"Sorta. Pick me up for church?"

"Planning to."

When she started dressing again, he did too. He drove her back, and they
kissed on the porch. The next morning, she found out why she'd felt itchy.
She had a mild case of sunburn. It didn't really hurt, and it didn't show at
all, but she felt it on her butt and tits. She had to restrain herself from
squirming during church. After the chapter meeting, she went upstairs,
stripped, and put hand lotion, all she had that felt soothing, on the
affected parts. She studied in bed.

By Monday morning the itchiness had almost disappeared, and by Tuesday night
she felt fine for her date with Andy. Afterwards, he scratched quite a
different itch.

"I love you," he said as they got into the front seat again.

"Yeah, but only on Saturdays," She was in a silly mood.

"I love you all the time. I want you all the time. I get you on Saturdays."
Clearly, Andy wasn't feeling silly.

"Do you really want me all the time?" Now, she sounded like she was fishing
for compliments.

"Every waking moment. You really interfere with my concentration in class. I
dream of you, for that matter. Still, since I get enough sleep, those dreams
can't take up all my sleeping time." Andy was sometimes painfully honest. It
was being intellectually honest, not saying something which didn't make
sense to him. Still, he might be wrong about dreams. She remembered
something about REM sleep being the deepest sleep and when dreams came.

The next afternoon, she had a Developmental Psych class. Well, the question
might be off topic, but the prof must know more than she did about it. At
worst, he could tell her the department's expert. After class she went up to
him.

"Professor Bernstein, I have a question. It isn't really developmental
Psych, but..."

"Sure. I'm going up to my office, why don't you ask me up there?" So she
trailed along. When they got to the stairs, he gestured her ahead.

"It's like this," she said when she started climbing. "I remember that REM
sleep is the deepest sleep, and it's also when you dream. Anyway, my
boyfriend said he dreamed about me. Then he said he couldn't be dreaming
about me all night because he got enough sleep.

"This must sound silly to you, Professor."

"Not at all. He does sound a little unromantic. In that situation, <b>I</b>
would tell my girl that I dreamed of her night and day."

"Yeah, he's sort of honest. He likes me, but I think he likes ideas more.

"Anyway," she continued, "doesn't getting enough sleep mean lots of
dreaming? REM sleep and all that?"

"You're both right, and you've both missed out on some later research.
Apparently REM sleep is all we need, or -- at least -- all the sleep that
our minds need. Our peasant and hunter-gatherer ancestors needed rest to
keep their bodies from wearing out. Today, we keep reminding ourselves to
get more exercise. Okay..." They'd reached his office, and he opened the
door and ushered her inside. He neither shut the door nor sat down at his
desk.

"Dreams start in REM sleep," he continued, "but they are not really
constructed there. What I learned, and I haven't been following more recent
research, is that REM only produces a pile of unconnected sensations --
images, scents, colors, sounds. When you remember this after you wake, your
memory organizes them into something consistent. And that consistency is the
dream. Your boyfriend isn't haunted by you in his REM sleep, but in his
memory."

"Thanks. I'm sorry to bother you with this, but I couldn't think of anyone
else."

"Thank <b>you</b>. I'd much rather hear a question about psychology which
isn't in the course material than hear: 'Professor Bernstein, is this going
to be on the exam?' Talk about developmental, all babies are curious -- it's
a standard trait of humanity. When you see a roomful of 20 year olds who
feel imposed upon because they have to learn something, you start to wonder
whether they are truly human."

"Well, really, I'll admit that learning your course is often work. It's more
fun when the idea comes out of left field."

"There is that. If we took kids starting at age six and made them eat ice
cream every night for dessert, I wonder how many would like ice cream at age
twenty."

"Yeah, I had an English professor who said that about poetry. Before it was
taught in the schools, everybody loved poetry... Well, thanks and goodbye."

So, Saturday driving to their picnic, she told Andy that he didn't really
dream of her at all. Then she laid out what the professor had said.

"That's not fair. I do dream of you, same as anyone else dreams. It's just
that it happens at a different time." He was laughing, though. He could tell
she was teasing, something she had to be careful about with
Andy. "So, dreams are much more complicated than I'd thought." The professor
would have loved Andy. Raise an idea, and he ran with it.

"Professor Bernstein would love you."

"Sorry," he said. "I don't swing that way."

"Silly!" She laughed. He chuckled with her. They got to the field and lay
out the stuff. Andy was carrying a pop bottle, but it seemed to hold only
water. Food eaten, garbage packed away, they lay down facing each other.
This time, Andy took out the strip of condoms right at the beginning. Still,
there was no hurry. They were going to make love, but they were going to
enjoy the whole journey.

Naked except for their watches, they had one more long, lovely kiss. She
could feel his bare cock against her thigh just an inch below where it would
enter her. Then he kissed down her throat, over her tits, still lower. When
he got to her right thigh, he raised that knee. Having kissed down to that
knee, he raised her left knee, and started kissing up its inside. He didn't
stop.

"Andy?" That was too intimate.

"Let me!" He hadn't said that about anything else, even sex. As she dropped
her knees to the sides, his mouth covered her center. She felt him suck on
her outer lips, then lick them. Her shock turned to arousal. He spread the
lips.

"Oh, Marilyn!" Then he was licking her inner lips. Warmth spread from there
to her tits, to her whole body. When his tongue touched her clit, sparks
shot through her. Her every muscle was tight and drawing tighter. Lightning
struck, and she arched upwards in a spasm. When she began to relax, there
was a sensation almost like pain in her clit. She arched again. Her hands
and legs were drumming against the ground, but her hips were anchored to the
blanket by his hands and head.

When she finally relaxed, it was a complete collapse. She could feel his
breath on her most sensitive flesh. His first renewal of the licking was
annoying. She couldn't respond, there wasn't any Marilyn left to respond.
Before she could summon the energy to stop him, though, her arousal began to
return. Warmth spread through her body from his lips. Sparks began to arc
from his tongue on her clit. Aching muscles tensed again. She was close.
Then, suddenly, she was alone. He rose above her and moved towards her head.
Then, he was at her entrance again. His hand spread her and his cock entered
her.

"Ohhhh, Marilyn!" While his voice sounded, his cock spread her lips, stroked
down her tunnel, filled her completely. He paused to say her name and then
kissed her hairline. He lifted himself above her on his arms and stroked out
and then in. The motion within her was arousing, and she felt herself
respond to him, pushing upward to get more of him on his return.

He was stroking more rapidly and more firmly, and she was meeting his every
stroke. They crashed together before his weight pressed her back to the
blanket. Then he withdrew almost out of her, and they crashed together
again. Even when she was lying quietly, she could feel every muscle tighten.


"Oh," she said as he drove into her once more. Lightning flashed though her
again. She convulsed under him, but he drove her down relentlessly. She
thrashed under him and throbbed around him.

"Gah!" he said as he throbbed within her throbbing. He held himself above
her for one more second. When he fell to his side, she was clinging to him
so hard that he turned her, too. They lay gasping for a moment or an hour.
Then she felt him reach around her hip to feel himself. He came out, and the
last little bit that slipped out was too thin to be Andy.

"You get it?" she asked.

"Yeah! Really the open end it pointed the right direction that it's safe
even if I don't. Safe, but maybe more messy."

"Well, I'm glad. I didn't really check before.... I mean, I trust you and
all, but I still should check."

"I didn't think of that. I just thought it was my responsibility."

"And, if anyone in the whole damn world is responsible, it's Andy." She
appreciated that. He could take her 'round the moon, but when she was riding
there with Andy, her seatbelt was fastened.

"But I'm not being responsible if you're worried, even if you don't have
reason to be. I don't want to make you pregnant, but I don't want to make
you worried, either."

"You're a great guy." And he was. She thought of Andrea's Carl, who figured
Andrea should get lower grades so he could think himself smarter than she
was. When his dad told Andy that she was too smart for him, ridiculous as
that was, he told her -- told her proudly. Okay, girls, I don't want to
compare boyfriends, but that's just because it's not polite to gloat.

"Well, a guy who loves you greatly."

"I thought we were going to learn things together." She'd had a new thought.

"We couldn't have been much more together than that."

"But where did you learn that kiss?"

"Cunnilingus?" He had the formal word for everything, but yes. "Darling I'm
your Andy, remember? And where does your Andy learn things?" Well, in class.
But she didn't think that he was taking -- hell! that the U of I was
teaching -- a class about that. Well, there was another possibility.

"You read a book?" she asked.

"I got out a couple of books. Actually, I'd read some books like that
before. I've been interested in sex for a long time." Yeah, boys were.
Really, though, it wasn't as if girls weren't.

"So you're going to take me through a library of marriage manuals?" It
sounded both exciting and repulsive. She wasn't a lab experiment. On the
other hand, that last experiment had been extremely arousing.

"Maybe sometime. It's more that I'm using my strength to make up for another
of my weaknesses. I'm a lot less experienced than you deserve."

"You're my Andy. I'm your Marilyn. You are exactly as experienced as I
want." Okay, reading marriage manuals wasn't the most romantic-sounding
thing. On the other hand, she was his first -- his one and <b>only</b>. They
were a couple. And, as he'd said, reading to find out things like that was
so Andy.

He extricated himself from the tangle of their legs. She watched as he
removed the condom, tied the end, and put it in the garbage bag. Then he got
up and grabbed the bottle he'd brought. He walked off the blanket with his
back to her and poured some water in front of him. he must be washing his
cock.

He came back to her for a kiss. For a second, she thought that she could
taste herself, but then it was only Andy slightly flavored with strawberry.
When they'd had a long kiss, he kissed a trail over her face --  her cheeks,
her forehead, her temple. He sucked the lobe of her ear, licked along the
rim in back, blew gently across it, thrust his tongue into the hole. Then he
went to her left temple and left ear. He kissed her neck from just below the
ear to the place it met her shoulder. She was naked, but he was kissing only
what clothes never covered.

He went on, though. He kissed her arms and hands, her tits and belly. When
he asked her to turn over, she did. As he kissed up her spine, he stroked
down to her butt, then between her legs. She spread her legs. He was
tickling her outer lips and then parting them. He stroked down her inner
lips to her clit. His finger took long, slow strokes, passing over her clit
only briefly at the very end of the stroke. Despite that -- because of that?
-- her arousal spiraled upwards. When his mouth reached her neck, it opened
wide around her neck. It barely fit, but he had her neck in his mouth. He
licked the skin at the back, and she felt like the victim of a lion's attack
-- maybe like a lioness being taken by a lion.

He started scratching her right shoulder blade somehow. It felt good. He was
stroking her clit almost continually now. She could feel that she was
close. She tried to turn over, but even her newly tense muscles couldn't
lift him. Then she lost all consciousness of being held down. There was only
the stroking finger and the fire it lit. Lightning struck within her. She
lifted up, but his weight bore her down. Her legs lifted as her loins drove
forward, but her mound met only the unyielding earth. Lightning struck
again, and she couldn't breathe.

Then his finger left her, his arm relaxed, and he even let go of her neck.

"I love you," he said. She loved him, too, but she didn't have breath to
express it. Slowly, he began to scratch lightly over her back. She felt so
contented, that she almost purred. She may have slept for a minute, because
his voice seemed to wake her.

"You are so beautiful. Do you think they designed violins to look like a
woman?" She wouldn't be surprised. Why should violin makers be different
from other males? Guys were all sex crazy, although she was in no condition
to make judgements right then. She marshaled the energy to turn over.

"Although, I will admit that I like these even more." He kissed each of her
tits lightly, and then settled on one nipple to lick. She rolled to give him
easier access, but still had to comment.

"A-cup."

"Well, not just now. I prefer them out."

"Pfft. You know what I mean."

"Y'know, our first conversation... well, not the first but back when the MYF
set up tables for the rummage sale, way back then, you made some negative
comment about your shape. Well, even back then, when I had only a suspicion,
I liked your shape."

"Yeah." And he'd said so. She'd been embarrassed, but also pleased.

"Well, now that we're a couple, don't you think you should give some value
to my opinion?"

"Andy, you're wonderful." When he demanded something from her, something on
the basis of their relationship, it was that she think well of herself. She
turned over on her side and kissed him. The kiss began as simple gratitude,
but soon his tongue was in her mouth and his hand was stroking over her
body.

Well, two could play that game. At first, she just cupped the side of his
face. When he broke the kiss, she let her hand wander. His arm, stoking her,
was always moving. His chest was smooth on the side and hairy towards the
middle. There was a hairless portion around the nipple, and that nipple
responded to her touch. Okay, hers responded to his touch, too, which he
immediately proved by moving his hand there when she first touched his
nipple. But she didn't have a mat of hair in the center of her chest like he
did, and she didn't think any of her hair was as bristly and stiff as his
chest hair was.

Lower down, the mat narrowed into a thin trail, and these hairs weren't as
stiff. And, for some reason, Andy seemed to have stopped breathing. His
stomach muscles felt as hard under her fingers as his ribs had. His hand
moved from her tit to her pussy without pause. Well he'd already explored
her. She lifted her leg to give him access. He began stroking her
immediately. Was he trying to distract her? This was Andy -- didn't he want
her to <b>know</b>?

The thin trail of hair disappeared at his belly button, but widened out
below into a triangle that was as bristly as the chest hairs, even when
damp. His cock was warmer than the hairs around it, and smooth. Yeah, it had
felt smooth when she'd touched it before -- to <b>every</b> part of her
which had touched it. It wasn't sticky at all, if rather wet. And it was
soft, but becoming less soft. This was fascinating, but she'd felt it
before. She stroked further down, only to find his legs locked together.
When she scratched the backs of her fingernails along the tops of his
thighs, he trembled but didn't open his legs.

"C'mon," she said, "I let you." At this, he opened his legs. The bottom of
the sack was as hairy as his delta had been, but the hair felt less wiry. It
felt as if he had two eggs in there, small eggs, but definitely egg shaped.
When he lowered his leg on her hand, she could do nothing but cup them in
her palm. Only the ends of her fingers were free to stroke the eggs and the
back of the sack.

By this time, his efforts to distract her were beginning to work. Despite
the cool breeze, she was growing warm. Most of the warmth was flowing from
her center, although some seemed to be coming from her left hand. Every
stroke of his finger on her clit thrilled her, and she felt her muscles
tightening.

"Wanna put it on?" he asked. Well, one of them should, really. She was
getting to the point she would stop caring. He took his hand away to get her
the packet, and this time he hadn't opened it. That job took both hands and
her full attention. She rolled on her back and he got between her legs,
kneeling straight up again. He began to stroke her again, slowly this time,
dotted half notes to his earlier eighth notes. She finally got the packet
open and the messy side turned towards her, she took him in the fingers of
her left hand. It jumped at her touch, but settled down so she could put the
condom on the end. After that, she rolled it down slowly. When she dropped
her hands, Andy fell on his hands over her. It felt like an attack, though
he didn't actually touch her above the waist. He wasn't all that close when
he stopped, but he'd moved awfully fast.

"Watch," he said, "watch us." He looked down between her legs, and she
followed his gaze. Her knees were wide apart to accommodate him, and this
gaped her open. He pulled her right knee up and pushed it down towards her
shoulder. She bent to ease the pressure, and that brought her delta into
full view. He slid his arm through the inside of her right knee 'til his
hand was on the ground, but his arm was still holding her bent. He pushed
his cock down with his other hand until the tip was hidden by her delta. She
felt it nestle into her entrance. Visually, his cock was a tube joining
their two deltas. "Watch," he repeated. Slowly he pressed into her, widening
her entry. She saw the tube joining them shorten.

"You are so warm around me," he said, "so sleek, so soft." Well, he was warm
inside her, too, almost hot -- and very slippery, if not at all soft. This
continued until she was filled, more full than she'd ever been before. Andy
extricated his arm, and she put her leg down. "Oh, darling Marilyn, your
body is so welcoming. Tell me that you want me, too."

"Oh, I do. Fill me!" Although, somewhere in her mind, there was the question
of what was the difference between her welcoming him and her body's
welcoming him. Well, she was more than her pussy -- though Andy would never
use that word. "Your cock feels so good in my pussy." See? He looked
shocked. But he bent down and kissed her. He kissed her on her hairline, but
he had to bend to reach that.

"Oh, Marilyn." He stroked slowly while her arousal spiraled upwards. His
gaze was so locked on her eyes, that she had to stare back.
"Oh, darling.... Oh, love...." Each stroke was accompanied by some word of
love, and she felt more love towards him on each stroke, too. The tension
was starting again, but this time it came with intense emotion. She loved
this guy. Much as she enjoyed this, a lot of the enjoyment was knowing that
it was <b>Andy</b>. And, almost in answer to that thought, the lightning
struck again. It threw her upwards against his slow instroke.

"Oh, Marilyn. Oh, darling. Oh, darling!" He sped his strokes, driving hard
into her, but he wasn't finishing yet. And then, with a final <b>"Oh!"</b>
he drove into her even harder, and she could feel him pulsing deep within.

She grabbed him with arms and legs so that when he fell to his side, she
went with him. He got himself and the rubber out once more, but she didn't
relax her grip to let him dispose of the rubber. They lay looking into each
other's eyes, until he moved his head forward so that their foreheads
touched. Trying to see him made her eyes cross, and she closed them.

"I love you," he said.

"Love you, too." And she did. Andy had all sorts of good points, smart,
considerate, always thinking of her. But he was more than those good points;
he was sweet Andy.

"You are so sexy." Well, she wasn't going to respond to this, but he was
really the sexy one -- getting it out of books or not. His cock <b>had</b>
felt good in her pussy, even if she'd said it mostly to shock him. But it
was more than his cock; it was <b>him</b>. And she felt good all over.

He kissed the tip of her nose, and then they had a real kiss. He rolled away
to put the condom in the garbage bag, and she straightened her right leg,
which had been feeling a little strained. Then they had another kiss. He
stroked her back. His hand was a comfort, although part of her mind thought
what a waste it was to go to all this effort to get privacy and nakedness
for such publicly-acceptable caresses. On the other hand, they'd gone
through their time when they needed the privacy, and this was the aftermath.

"This is nice, too," she said.

"Yeah. Y'know, the quiet times are us being quiet together.... I didn't say
that very well."

"But I know what you meant, sorta. This is us. Like going to church together
is us." And she was now happy that they'd gone to church two weeks before.
They were a couple -- more of a couple than most Zates could understand.
Even the ones who guessed what they were up to, even the ones who'd believed
they were having sex long before they actually were, thought that she was
simply scratching an itch -- or putting out to keep Andy. The wonderful
thing about Andy was that she didn't need to do something to keep him. They
did things together, not to keep the other but to be the best pair that they
could be.

She turned over and then cuddled back against him. He stroked down her arm
and her leg. When his hand stroked back up, it stopped where it could cup
her tit. There was a cool breeze, but it came from Andy's back. She was
almost completely sheltered. He warmed her back and some of her side. Only
her arm felt the breeze. Which was fine for her. What about him?

"You cold?" she asked.

"No. You?"

"I've got you to wrap myself in. You're exposed."

"I've got a hot girl in my arms keeping me nice and warm," he said. And he
didn't seem to be shivering. They lay there a while longer with Andy
occasionally kissing the back of her head. She would stroke his arm when he
did. Then her bladder started to complain. It wasn't urgent, but they had
probably better be getting back.

"I love this," she said, "but..."

"But?"

"Duty calls."

"Okay. Let's wrap this up on a high note." He got up on his knees and pulled
her over on her back. He gave her a lovely, deep kiss. Then he finished
rising. He started to get dressed. She got dressed, too. They checked that
they hadn't left any garbage, and Andy shook out the blanket and folded it
up. Back at the house, he gave her another sweet kiss on the porch.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

"Tomorrow?"

"Of course." She had time to take a shower and wash her hair before changing
into another pair of jeans and a good top to go down to supper. Afterwards,
she studied for a few hours. She didn't need the study room because both
Barbara and Willa were out. Later in bed, and still alone in the room, she
thought back on the day.

If the first picnic -- the first one which hadn't been rained out -- had
been about exploration, the second might have been about love. Certainly,
Andy was talking a lot about love that week. This one seemed to be about
sensuality. Sure, they were still exploring, and she still loved Andy. She
was quite certain that he loved her, too. Indeed, she'd really been certain
about his feelings longer than she'd been certain about her own. But what
they were exploring was less their feelings than their eroticism. And Andy
was surprisingly erotic. That thing with the mouth -- she'd had enough
experience with bad kissers in the normal way of kissing to suspect that
simply reading a book didn't guarantee that much feeling from the first
kiss. Not even, probably, from the twentieth.

For all his being bad at sports, and she only knew that from his report,
Andy was far from clumsy. He was a good dancer -- and a good driver. In all
the driving when she'd been in the car with him, she'd only felt like she
was in danger once. A car, going way too fast for conditions, had swerved
across the line towards them. Andy had gone over on the shoulder, so far
that she'd heard shrubbery brushing against her side of the car. The other
car had seemed to miss them by a fraction of an inch. They'd been in danger,
but not from something Andy had done. Now, this was something else physical
that Andy did well.

Well she'd been right about leaving the worry about mechanics to the
engineer -- if only she'd been able to follow her own advice. Maybe not as
much the engineer -- she couldn't imagine any of that coming up in his
courses -- than the guy who learned from reading. Every time she had Andy
pegged as green and needing someone to teach him, he showed up leading her.
Watching him enter her, for example. That had been sexy as hell, and he had
insisted that she watch. It would have been just as sexy to him without his
even telling her. But it wouldn't have been as sexy to <b>them</b>. Maybe
that was what he was developing, their being sexy. If so, she was completely
happy with his taking the lead. She had a sexy boyfriend, much sexier than
he appeared, but it was even better that she was part of a sexy couple.

The problem was next Saturday. It would be in the middle of her period, and
she didn't want to tell Andy that. It's not that he'd fight her or storm off
if she said no. It was that he might feel hurt. These picnics were important
to her, and she didn't want him to feel that they weren't. Should she tell
him the reason? She didn't want that either.

On Tuesday, though, he gave her a solution. After the movie, driving towards
the parking spot, Andy brought up an alternative.

"I love you, Marilyn."

"And I love you, too."

"I want us to be a couple in all ways. I love what we do on picnics, but we
should be a college-dating couple, too." She couldn't see what he was
getting at. They were on a date, and a date that wouldn't end in sex. He
wasn't saying that it should, was he? He certainly didn't sound like it.

"Well," he continued, "next Saturday is a dance. Maybe we should go rather
than having a picnic."

"Andy, you're a wonderful guy."

And, so, when they went to the dance they danced all the slow ones and sat
out half the fast ones -- sometimes talking, sometimes just holding hands. A
guy came by when Andy was getting them Cokes, and stood behind the chair to
her right trying to start a conversation.

"I wish you wouldn't," she said. "That's my man's chair, and he'll be right
back." She had so much with Andy that she no longer wanted his jealousy.

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying." Actually, she could, unfairly or
not. Apparently, her tone had communicated that she had.

"Yeah, I should wear a sign on my forehead -- taken." The guy laughed and
walked away. Andy soon returned with the Cokes and took the chair to her
left, as usual.

The next Saturday, they got their Whoppers and shakes. They drove to the
usual spot, or almost there. From the road, they could see the tractor
crossing their field. She couldn't tell what he was doing, sowing maybe. The
field was already plowed.

"Oh, shit," Andy said.

"Think you can find another place?" It, to be fair -- although she was
feeling far from fair -- wasn't really <b>their</b> field. It probably
belonged to the man on the tractor.

"A couple of possibilities." But not only were the places he checked already
plowed, so were all the fields beside the roads they drove to check them
out.

"I'm sorry," Andy said after a while.

"I'm sorry, too. Look, could you find a parking space?" Even that was more
difficult at noon than it was after dark. Soon, though, he pulled off an
untraveled road under some trees. The fields within sight were plowed, but
-- at least -- nobody was working in them now. With the engine off, they
could hear tractors in the distance, but that was almost a guarantee of
privacy. They'd hear one come near in plenty of time to dress.

She'd been thinking of what to do. She brought the food into the back seat.
Without waiting for him to do it, she took off her tee and removed her bra.
Then she put the tee back on. She opened her jeans, pushed them half-way
down her thighs, and pushed her panties after them. That rather hobbled her.

"Help me up," she said. He lifted her into his lap, and she twisted so that
she was facing the front of the car. "Now, give me the bag of food." When he
handed it to her, she took out a Whopper and put the rest of the bag down
beside them. She unwrapped the sandwich.

His head was over her right shoulder. She took a bite and held the sandwich
to her right where his mouth should be. He got the idea and took a bite.

"Don't want you handling the food," she explained. "I don't want to get any
grease on me." Far more important, she didn't want to get any of her
secretions on the food she was going to eat.

"Marilyn, have I ever told you that you are brilliant?" He slid both hands
under her tee to cup her tits. After his next bite, he slid one of his hands
down to stroke her pubic hair. "Lovely, so dark, so curly." Soon he went
lower, and she strained to spread her legs against jeans and panties. Right
then, she didn't feel brilliant.

Soon, though, she felt wonderful. She lowered her hands holding what
remained of the Whopper. The feelings inside her body took too much
attention to eat or to feed Andy. Warmth, then heat, spread though her. Andy
licked the back of her ear, and sparks flew from that. She felt herself
tense, pushing up against his hand, almost straightening off his lap.

Then lightning struck. As more feelings flowed from Andy's stroking finger,
it struck again. She felt glorious, swinging upwards into the bright sky.
She felt afire, every inch of her suffused with the sweetness of flame. She
felt replete as she settled back onto and into his lap -- held, comforted,
rocked, loved.

Then she felt sticky from the sauce covering her hands where she'd squeezed
the Whopper tightly.

"Um," she said. Andy laughed.

"Give me one." He pulled his hand out of her shirt and took her left wrist.
When he'd brought her hand to his face, he licked it thoroughly, starting
with her thumb. What remained of the Whopper was still in her right hand.
When he raised that hand to his mouth, he finished the Whopper before
licking off her hand.

"I've got Kleenex behind me," he said.

"No." She dipped into the bag and brought out a napkin. She wiped her hands
thoroughly. "It's still a little sticky."

"I could lick it again. Maybe each finger needs to have the stickiness
sucked off."

She laughed. "You're impossible." But, when he raised her left hand to his
mouth again, she let him. The sucking didn't do anything to reduce the
feeling of stickiness, but it felt sexy as hell.

"Hold it a minute," she told him. She got a shake out of the bag, got the
straw in, and took a healthy swig. She bent the straw and held it to his
mouth until he seemed satisfied. She replaced the shake in the bag and dug
out another Whopper. This she partly unwrapped until about half was peeking
out of the paper. She held it to his mouth before saying "okay."

His fingers began playing with her nipple and stroking her groove before he
took a bite. He seemed able to do both at once, though. As her arousal grew,
she forgot to take her bites. When she felt herself getting carried away,
she spoke again.

"Another minute." She wrapped up the Whopper and placed it in the bag. She
leaned back against him and pushed 'til her knees were touching the front
seat. She relaxed. "Okay."

It took them hours to finish that meal, but she felt it was time well spent.
When she went down to dinner after her shower, though, she found she wasn't
very hungry. She might have eaten more of the meal than she usually did. If
so, Andy had no complaint about it when he picked her up Sunday.

"Could you pick me up, say, 45 minutes later when you come by on Tuesday?"
She asked when they were driving back.

"We'll miss the opening of the movie." When she didn't respond, he left it
at that. Tuesday, he came by when she had asked.

"Y'know," she said in the car on the way to the theater, "the beginning of
the film has already run."

"Yeah." He didn't say 'I told you so,' but she could feel him resist saying
it.

"Without us." When he had no response to that, she went on. "Ya think the
rest of the film could run without us?" He turned the car at the next
corner.

"Marilyn, you are a dream!" He parked, maybe one of the usual places, she
couldn't tell from that direction.

For the little that remained of the semester, they went out 'to the movies'
Tuesday, Thursday, and most Saturday nights. They started later as the days
lengthened.

"Enjoy the movie?" Willa asked from her bed as Marilyn got ready for bed one
night.

"Very much."

"Who were the actors?" When she didn't answer, "And what, for that matter,
was the name of the film?" Caught! "Honey, don't worry. I'm happy for you.
It's just that you're so transparent. Name it after me, and I'll send it a
teddy bear every Christmas."

"I'm not. We don't." Not that was any of Willa's business. "And, anyway, I'm
on the Pill." That, Willa knew. Marilyn took it first thing in the morning,
wherever Willa and Barbara were.

"Yeah," Barbara said from her bed. "All the girls who aren't getting screwed
are on the Pill. It's the latest thing." Well, she wasn't having sex, and
she was on the Pill. But she wasn't avoiding sex with Andy; she just wanted
a little privacy for that sex.

The end
Picnickers - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/09/01


These same events from Andy's perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/tra_05m.htm
Andy's experience

The first adventures of Marilyn with Andy:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/tra_01f.htm
"The Meeting - F"

Another story about another couple starting together:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/sch_01f.htm
"Honey Bee"


The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm
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