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Passersby watched as a man and a woman walked towards Safeway, talking and laughing. The bystanders's impressions of the man were that he was tall, possibly brushing six feet, and probably underweight. His arms and chest lacked the defined musculature typical to men his age. That didn't seem to bother him, though. He walked with one hand spaded in his pockets, taking the long strides his legs allowed. He wore loose, unadorned clothes in shades of grey and beige and blue; their solemn colorings leant him dignity. He had dark hair and dark eyes that some found disturbing--he sometimes gave the impression of being able to see into a person's secrets. He wore glasses, round-lensed in a day when most young men seem to prefer those narrow rectangular lenses, and he had a warm, infectious smile. The bystanders's impressions of the woman were that she might be a fashion model. She had the classic American good looks: long blonde hair, currently loose and being played with by the dancing wind; eyes of strong, fearless blue; a smooth, perfect face. She was somewhat shorter than the man she walked beside; she let her arms swing wide, sure of herself and her place. Her clothes were of a brighter color than her male companion's, but they were still plain and unpretentious, adding to her air of self-sufficiency. Some might have wished she had more curves to her, an increased swell to her hips or a more prominent ass or perhaps larger boobs; some might have been satisfied with her as she was. Her face was beautiful, and when she smiled, it shone like a beacon of light. Most of the bystanders figured the man and the woman were friends. Surely she could do better than this slightly-slouched, slightly self-conscious man. Besides, their ages suggested they attended college, and Besaid University was right across the street. All sorts of things happened in college. Certainly weirder things than these two being friends. Most of the bystanders would have gone along assuming the man and the woman were friends, except for the single incongruity of their holding hands. Their banter was that of friends: the comments made in alternate yells and whispers; the easy laughter; their confidence around each other. But the hands... They linked the two tightly together, as though they were one person. They emerged from the supermarket ten minutes later with a bag suspended from between their joined hands. No one knew what to think. Some of the passersby shook their heads. Some of them smiled, remembering their own days in love. Some had more important things to attend to. The man and the woman didn't care. They were in love, and the world was their oyster. Colin Watson and Heather Norwellyn took the extra precaution of hiding the box of condoms in the middle of the plastic grocery bag. There was no reason to hide their love, but just as little reason to broadcast it to the public. Colin in particular had once had an embarrassing incident where someone saw through the translucent plastic of a grocery bag and made comments on what was inside. He was eager to avoid such an experience, especially since it was obvious who the condoms would be used with. Heather had suggested buying lube, but Colin had shaken his head. "I already have it." And then proceeded to relate the embarrasing incident when someone saw through the translucent plastic of the grocery bag. It had taken Heather a couple of minutes to stop giggling. "Besides," he said, "judging from the puddle you created, I don't think you'll need it." "What if you wanted to go somewhere that doesn't produce puddles," she asked him, and his eyebrows jumped to his hairline. They had actually gotten groceries; the on-campus store bore a superficial resemblance to a 7-11, but it was sorely lacking in good varieties of soda and potato chips and candy, which were Colin's daily fare. He ate almost incessantly sometimes. Heather wondered how he managed to keep himself so trim. "It's my metabolism," he said, giving her a wry smile. "I love sugar, so I guess my body got used to dealing with lots of it. I used to be pretty hyper, remember? It took me practically until high school to calm down. I wish I was fatter. I need insulation from the cold. If it drops below fifty-five degrees, I freeze my ass off." "Well, I don't think you'll be having that problem tonight," she told him as they boarded the elevator. "Well, yeah," he said disingeniously. "I mean, it's May." She rolled her eyes at him. "That's not what I meant." He grinned and kissed her nose. Heather and Colin were glad that Colin's roommate, a shy and sometimes annoying creature, had gone home for the weekend. It gave them all sorts of flexibility they never would have had otherwise. Like the option to have the sort of long, private talks that had led them here in the first place. Colin unloaded the bags while Heather used her cell phone to call her parents. "Hi, Mom? It's Heather... Yeah, I'm at Besaid University with Colin. I dunno, how late can I stay out?... Oh, I dunno... Well, we're doing a lot of talking. We've found out some things about each other that are, well, surprising." Colin, finished, came up behind her and put his arms around her. As he did, she jumped. He did too, yanking his arms away, but she reached out and put his arms back. Her concentration, though, was on the phone now wedged between her ear and shoulder. "Yeah," she said. "How did you know?" Colin blinked. How did Mrs. Norwellyn know what? "...Well, okay," Heather said. "Yeah, he said it was obvious too, but clearly it wasn't, because I missed it... Yes, Mom, I remember. For a while you wouldn't shut up about it." She launched into a credible imitation of her mother's voice. "'You should date Colin, he'd be good for you. Do you remember your friend Colin, you've known him since first grade. Who wouldn't be attracted to you? You should ask him out.' ...You did too sound like that. ...Okay... Okay. Uh. Okay, Mom. Thank you. 'Bye." "What'd she say," Colin asked. Heather turned around in his arms, her face a picture of astonishment. "She said I could come home whenever I wanted." Colin blinked. "What, like..." "No deadline," Heather said. "She said I could do anything I wanted. Even not come home until tomorrow." "And what was that about dating me," he asked. "Well," Heather said, tossing her head to clear her face of hair, "she said we'd started dating. Like, it wasn't even really a question. She just knew." Colin felt his eyebrows climbing into his hair. "Really." "Yeah," Heather said, "and she seemed really pleased about it, too, she was like, 'Well, I've always said he was the man you should choose, and now you see I'm right.'" "And knowing that, she completely disbanded your curfew," Colin said. "She basically said it was okay for you to stay here all night if you wanted." Heather nodded, her eyes wide. "Yeah." "You know," Colin said, "your mom is either completely insane, or the coolest person ever." "Probably both," Heather said. "I think she trusts me to know what I'm doing. Like, she doesn't think she needs to look over my shoulder or anything. She knows I'll be fine." "And you are," Colin murmured. Heather smiled, but the double entendre had passed him by; there were other things on his mind. "My mom isn't like that at all. She constantly doubted me. And so I constantly doubt me, too." He looked up. "I wonder if we're seeing a trend." "Well, when we have kids, we'll remember to have confidence in them," Heather pronounced. "Wait," Colin said. "We're gonna have kids?" She grinned. "Well, you seemed serious about that whole marriage thing. What's the obvious next step?" "Well, yeah," Colin said, "but one step at a time. First you gotta teach me to be a good lover and all that." "Oh, true," Heather said, grinning. "I had forgotten about that." Colin picked up the box of condoms from his desk and rattled it at her. "Oh yeah," Heather said with a guilty smile. She giggled. "It's kinda funny. I'm so used to us just sitting around and talking a lot. Now suddenly there's all this, you know, other stuff we can do." "Well, we can still sit around and talk," he said. "I mean, we've got plenty of time." She smiled. "I know. But, I kinda wanna get started too. I dunno what it is. Normally I'm not, like, eager for sex or anything, but with you... Maybe 'cause I know you're gonna be a good lover." "And because I love you," he said, drawing her close. "Yeah, that too," she said. She flashed an uncertain grin. "I can hardly believe this is all true, you know? I keep half expecting I'm gonna wake up and it'll have been a dream. It's like, everything is perfect. How could this possibly be real?" "Don't tempt fate," he said, smiling, "I'd rather stay asleep." They kissed, gently, reveling in the pleasure of their unity. Her breath was warm, her lips soft and pliant. Her arms snaked around his neck; his hands rubbed up and down her back. "I love you." "I love you." As they had before, they stripped off their clothes as they stood before the bed. They faced each other, naked, unashamed, and kissed again, letting their hands roam across each other's flesh, feeling flanks and muscles and shoulders. He enjoyed the warm sensation of her breasts pushing against his chest. When they broke, she could feel his erection beginning to bump at her thighs. She giggled. "Looks like someone's ready for action." "What, and you're not," he teased. "Hardly, loverboy," she said, grinning. "Give me five minutes's work and I'll be ready for that sucker." "Well, I suppose we should get to work then," he said, mirroring her smile. "And this time I do get to go down on you." "Wouldn't have it any other way," she said. As they lay down, she asked, "Have you ever done it before?" "Going down on someone? Yes." It had been in that pernicious, abortive little relationship with Selena. "I actually had a lot of fun with it. I guess she wasn't so happy." Not twenty-four hours after that one experience, she had broken up with him. Heather knew this, and her eyes were shadowed; but she did not mention any of it. "I guess I don't have to explain to you what everything does, then." He shook his head. "Internet. Think I've studied it enough." She laughed. "Well, then, Mr. Watson, consider this your final exam." "Uh-oh," he said. "I don't test well. Especially on these multiple choice things. I'm okay with essays, though." He looked at her in consternation. "Are there essays involved?" She broke up laughing, and when she was done, she pulled him down on her to kiss her. "I love you, Colin." "I love you, Heather." They began to kiss again, stoking the fire in her body that would gradually become that all-consuming blaze. He let his hands roam across her torso, sliding gently across her breasts, teasing her with featherlight touches. He kissed her neck, under her ear, the corners of her eyes, eventually returning to her mouth. She took one of his hands in her own and deposited it deliberately on her right breast. Taking the hint, he let it remain there. For a moment he simply cupped her breast, feeling her nipple begin to respond; then he pressed on it gently, kneading it with his palm. He let her nipple rest in the groove between two of his fingers and rubbed them gently up and down. She made approving noises, raising up to meet him. His mouth left hers and began a meandering journey down her body. She felt the wet feathery touch of his lips again and again, moving in minute increments across her neck, down her throat, along the line of her collarbone. She had never quite realized that all of these places could be erogenous zones, but the fire within her burned hotter with every touch, no matter where it was. Then he reached his other nipple, and for a second a discovery burned in her mind: clearly, some places were more sensitive than others; she simply had not been aware that all places were sensitive. But then his mouth latched around her left nipple and sucked, a slow drawing motion, and thought was fed to the fire, to keep it burning. She felt dampness between her legs and knew her time was coming. He seemed to know it too, for he moved away from her breasts--a little quicker than she might have liked--and headed south towards the place where things really seemed to matter. She felt his tickling touch graze her stomach, and then the line of her waist, and she pushed her hips upward. Here. Go here. And he did, with gratifying swiftness. A final few kisses planted themselves amidst her pubic hair; and then she felt his tongue, slipping up and down her pussy lips. She moaned in pleasure, opening her legs wider. "You seem to know your way around there," she said. She felt the puff of breath as he laughed. "Not really. Every girl is different, after all, and there's still no guarantee I'll be able to make you come." She smiled to herself. Colin was understating himself a little bit. True, he wasn't very well acquainted with the geography, but he had hoped for this day for a long time. He was deeply concerned with Heather's sexual welfare; he wanted to make her come; and from his exploits on the Internet he knew, at least in theory, how to do so. Of course, theory is a long way from practice. But at least I've got the chance to try it out. Using his fingers, he spread open her feminine flower and got his first good look at a woman's vulva. Heather's inner lips were engorged with blood and wrinkled a little, and beyond that he could see her clitoral hood and her perineum. He knew he could probably get to her anus as well if he wanted. He wasn't sure where her vaginal opening was, but he knew it wouldn't be too hard to figure it out. He began to run his tongue around her vulva, licking the smooth skin, feeling its texture--a little spiky because of her trimmed pubic hair--and its taste--reddish and warm, a little salty. She didn't seem appreciative, however, so after a few moments he moved to her inner lips, which she did like, according to her reaction. "Uh, Heather, could you scoot up on the bed some? My feet are gonna end up on my roommate's desk, there's not much room down here." "All right," she said, and scooted. "Anything specific I should know about this area," he asked. "Focus on my clit," she said. "Well, besides that," he said, smiling. "Put your fingers inside me," she said. "I can touch your clit directly, right?" "Yeah, but be careful," she said. "It's delicate. Not like you guys with your cocks." She giggled. "You're the bull and I'm the china shop." He laughed with her, even though it didn't make much sense. She knew it didn't. Who cared. He began to focus his attentions on the top of her slit and the little white nub that was cocooned there. She crooned under her breath. One of her hands went to her breasts and played there; the other went to the back of his head, ruffling his hair. Together they lost track of all time, forgot everything except her pleasure. He ran one finger up and down her slit, probing for the opening to her pussy. When he found it, he slid it in. Heather gasped and pushed back, wanting more. Pretty soon he had added a second finger. He stroked in and out, and her hips rose to meet his thrusts. And all the while he continued to lick her clit, now faster and harder. "Colin--" She gasped for breath. "Suck on it. Suck on my clit!" He had no idea how long they had been at it, but he suddenly understood how close she was, just from hearing the sounds she was making, from the frantic bucking of her hips. He was rather surprised; some of his friends had complained that it took them close to an hour to get things finished. Some of those friends had been girls. But none of them had been Heather, who was evidently far more acquainted with orgasm than any of them. He formed his mouth into a little O around her clitoris and sucked, applying himself to it directly. All at once her hips stopped moving; instead they pressed up to him and stayed there. He let his fingers keep going in and out, applying stronger and stronger suction to that little nubbin at the top of her slit. Suddenly he realized he wasn't using his tongue, and, without breaking suction, let it flicker out and begin to caress her bud. And that was all it took. Her voice rose: "Colin-- Colin--" and then burst in a wordless outrushing of breath. He felt her pussy muscles spasming, contracting around his fingers, and marvelled at the sensation. Her hips quivered for a moment and then lost tension; they crashed back down to the bed. Her hand on the back of his head pushed him down after her, and he followed her, latching back onto her clit, as she spasmed and pulsed and the fire burned itself out deep within her. Heather found herself sprawled across Colin's bed on her back, one arm across her breasts and the other lingering somewhere near her crotch. The smell of her own sex was strong in the air. She felt sweat across her body, slowly drying; soon, she knew, she would have that half-dirty, completely-satisfied feeling that always came with strong exercise or with sex. Colin was lying beside her with his arm just under hers. There was a strangely bemused smile on his face. "Wow," he said. "I can't believe that worked." "What," she said. "I always thought it would take a lot more work to get you to come. Work, that's not the right word. What is the right word? Anyway. I mean, they say it takes women like four times as long to get off as it does men. I didn't know you were different than that." Her brain was starting to kick into gear. "Well, that's an average figure, isn't it? Maybe I'm on the fast side." "Yeah, I guess, but y'all ought't've warned me first," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek to take the sting out of the comment. "Well, normally it takes a little longer than that," she said. She rolled over to face him. "You're a natural." He smiled at her. He had his own opinions. She kissed him, moving into his embrace. Something tasted different. She realized belatedly that she was tasting her own juices on his face. It wasn't too bad. "I guess you've had orgasms before," he said. "Did... Did anyone ever give them to you?" She nodded. "Bobby did, once or twice. He wasn't very good at it." "How many people have you been with," he asked. She giggled. "People? I'm not that experienced. Just two--not counting you, of course. Trent was the first person I fooled around with, but I didn't have sex with him. Just Bobby, and then whatshisname... Cal." He nodded. She had shared most of the details of most of her boyfriends with him; he had heard all those names before. There had been so many names that, for a while, he had kept a file on his computer listing every guy she'd dated and relevant details about each. It was hard to keep track when turnaround time could be as little as three weeks. "So, you're special," she said, smiling at him. "Well, that's good," he said, smiling. "I like being special." "In fact," she said, "you're so special that you deserve your reward." She reached between his legs and took his cock into her hands. It had begun to go soft from the cessation of their actions, but even as she touched it, it began to pump back to life. "Why," he said, "what is this I'm getting into now?" A smile danced across his face. "Well, getting into is right," she said. "Once you're ready to go, you're gonna be getting into me." "Oh-h," he said. "Maybe we had better get a condom then." She looked into his eyes. "You don't have to," she said. "I'm willing to take the risk." He smiled. "Remember what you said about lasting longer? Judging from my last performance, I think some extra endurance would be a good thing." He had a point. His stamina had been rather disappointing. As he reached for the box of Trojans, she asked, "Are you always that fast, or were you just, you know, excited?" He gave her a rueful smile. "Unfortunately, endurance has never been one of my strong points." "I see," she said. "We'll work on that." She heard the satisfying stitching tear of perforated cardboard, and pretty soon he had a condom in his hand, still in its paper-foil wrapping. He handed it to her, but she had other ideas. Instead she bent to his crotch and took the head of his penis in her mouth. "Uh..." he said. It was mostly a groan. "Uh, Heather... Maybe not such a good idea, if you want me to..." She let him pop out of her mouth to facilitate speech. "Silly," she said. "I want you to be hard. This is a good way, isn't it?" Delight glowed on her features, daring him to contradict her. He grinned. "Fine, but I get to go at you again." Once he was in her mouth, she began to move up and down slowly, taking him in as deep as she could. She had never mastered that deep-throat thing; her gag reflex was too strong. Maybe she would try it later. For now, though, she still had her lips, and tongue, and she knew how to use them. He was circumcized, so she had access to that little ridge down the underside of his shaft, and she feathered her tongue up and down on it, faster than the movement of her mouth, and he murmured in pleasure. But all too soon she felt his hands on her shoulders. "My turn." She pouted. "Oh, if you insist. I really like giving head," she said honestly. He smiled. He could tell she was serious. "Well, you'll get to do that later. For now, though, I want to be inside you." On second thought, that did sound like a good idea. She relinquished her hold on his cock without a second thought. He maneuvered her until she was on her knees, straddling his neck as he lay under her. He stretched out his neck as she held her pussy lips open to let him attack her. She was still a little sensitive, but he took things slowly, starting on the outer lips as he had before and quickly moving to the inner. She shuddered and gasped as shocks of pleasure rattled across her body, eminating from that little nubbin at the top of her slit. "Okay," she said, "it's time." Ignoring his grumble of annoyance--evidently he was just as much at home with oral sex as she was--she opened the condom package and, stepping backwards down the bed, rolled it onto his cock. She found herself squatting over his knees with his cock pointed towards her head. After that it became obvious what to do next. They looked into each other's eyes as she positioned his cock at the opening of her pussy; then, as one, they looked at their crotches as she slowly sank herself down on his shaft, taking him in and in and in until there was no more and her buttocks rested against his thighs. He gasped indrawn breath as her warm, slippery embrace engulfed him. She felt him gently bumping against her cervix and realized he was the perfect length for her. They looked into each other's eyes again. This time he extended his hand. Understanding his invitation, she stretched out full-length on top of him, his member still buried inside her. He put his arms around her; she laid her head on his chest. "I've always wanted to do this," he said. "This position, I mean." "Well, I'm glad you have your chance," she said. She loved the articulation, the freedom of this position. Sometimes it was nice to have her lover on top, to have his weight on her, to feel him thrusting into her; but sometimes it was nice to take at her own speed, to feel him caressing her pussy, to rotate and bend and make him hit just the right spot... They had their advantages and disadvantages, both. "Hey, Heather," he said. "Hmm?" "I love you." She smiled. "I could get used to hearing that. You should say it more often." "I love you I love you I love you?" She giggled. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I love you too, Colin." His hold tightened on her. "You ready to go," she asked after a moment's pause. "Let's get it on," he said, and giggled. She supported herself on her hands, slowly moving her hips up and down. He felt the velvet caress of her passage, surrounding him like liquid pleasure; she felt his warm fullness moving inside her. He reached up and tweaked the nipple on her right breast, feeling the globe hanging down into his hand. For a few minutes they moved like that, until he grunted and took a hold of her elbow. "Soon," he said, "better wait a little." She looked down at him, bemused. "Damn, Colin, you do have a short fuse." He gave her a rueful look. "What, you think I'm happy about it? I love this, Heather, I want to stay here forever. With you. Inside you. Whatever." He rolled his eyes at his own lack of articulation. "You. That's what matters to me." She smiled down at him, feeling love well up in her throat. "You've got such a good ear for sweet nothings." He reached up and caressed her cheek. When she started moving again, she gave up on leaning over him; supporting herself on her knees, she sat straight up, moving up and down on him. Sometimes she rolled her hips to give her clitoris more direct contact; sometimes she moved from side to side; and gradually she picked up speed until she was coming down hard and he was rising to meet her. Colin watched her--erect and proud, her nipples and breasts extended as she arched over him, her golden hair mussed and tumbling down her back, her face open with the shocks of pleasure running through her... To him, she had never looked more beautiful. Their moans mingled with the scents of their lovemaking, their labored breathing. His hand found hers and their fingers intertwined. "Soon," she asked. "Very soon, yeah-- Oh!" He arched, driving up to meet her; she came down on him, taking him in as deep as he would go. She felt the base of his cock expand, felt it throb and jam within her; but nothing came. Oh, yes, he was wearing a condom. He strained at her, and sadly, she felt nothing. She decided that she would never make him wear a condom again. He could if he wanted, but she would not ask him to by inclination. True, his cum had rather leaked out of her as they walked to Safeway, and her panties were probably in a bit of a mess; true, there was a risk of pregnancy; but she had had his seed once, felt it splash against her cervix and cling to her walls, and loved it, and she wanted it again. She rode up and down a few more times as his climax passed, and then looked down at him. His eyes were closed and he was breathing hard. His dark hair was tousled. She could see his pectorals heaving up and down as he gasped for breath. Maybe not the most hunky guy I could have found, she thought, but he'll do. I love him, anyway. He could look like a baboon and I wouldn't care. "Crap," he said, once he had breath. "I keep ending up in your debt." She smiled. "It's not a race, we don't have to keep track." "Yeah, but... I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I do." He looked up at her with his clear, warm eyes. "I mean, it's not just about me here, it's a mutual thing. You're part of this too, you know?" In answer, she leaned down and kissed him as thoroughly as she knew how. He had to start all over with the process of getting his breath back once she was done, and she was a little light-headed herself. Gee, who would've thought that pressing lips together could be such a tiring exercise? His cock had been slowly shrinking all this time, and now she felt it starting to dislodge. She pinched the open end of the condom to his shaft and then withdrew him from her pussy. She felt a little sad when he left. Then she climbed off him, and he disposed of the condom, knotting it as the instructions suggested. They curled up together. The clock read 10:33 PM. "So, uhm," he said, looking for a conversational opening. "How's your day been?" She laughed. "We just had sex and we're in the middle of that post-... What's the word? Covetal?" "Coital," he said, chuckling. "Post-covetal would be something else entirely." She resumed: "We just had sex and we're in the middle of that post-coital bliss and you ask me how my day's been." He smiled. "Well, I had to say something." But he turned to her, his eyes concerned. "How are you? I mean, I guess you're happy now--" "Well, that's awfully presumptuous," she said playfully. "--but what about before? I mean, we haven't talked about your break-up at all yet." "...Aww. Do we have to?" "Well, no, we don't, but... I mean, I dunno. If we hadn't started, you know, fucking each other, we'd be talking about that." "...Yeah." "So how do you feel?" She was silent for a little while, thinking. Idly he reached out and played with her hair. She knew her hair was one of the secrets to her good looks, and she took very good care of it. It was a wonder to hold. The gentle, pleasurable tingles across her scalp distracted her, and she smiled at him, but she wanted to know how she felt. "I feel good," she said at last. "In the past twelve hours I've gotten rid of my self-absorbed jackass boyfriend, realized how much I loved someone, had some pretty good sex, had come inside me for the first time, and I've spent quality time with one of my best friends." She flashed a glinting grin at him. "I'm not sure there's a better way to spend a day. I don't care about Jason, he can go fuck himself for all I care." She giggled. "He probably will, knowing how much he loves himself." Colin rolled his eyes and grinned at her. "Silly." They lay in companionable silence for a little while. Heather sidled closer to him and felt the beat of his heart within his chest, comforting and reassuring. Idly and without reason she began to suck on his nipple. His hand stroked the back of her head, her neck, her back, feeling the arch of her body as she bent to him. "Did you know," she said suddenly, "that your cum was leaking out of me when we went to Safeway?" He looked startled. "Uh-oh. I hope it didn't show. I hope no one smelled it." He gave her that rueful half-amused smile. "I think that would've caused some comments." She kissed the underside of his jaw. "They probably wouldn't have needed it. You know how people are when they're in love." He thought about it, and nodded. People in love are among the most demonstrative in the world. "What is love, anyway," she asked him, scooting up the bed so that she could see his face. "I mean... Everyone wants it. But what is it?" He blinked at her. "You know, people have pondered that for years. I mean, there's dead Greek guys who have written about it--like, Ovid and Plato and Socrates." "Who's Ovid?" "He wrote poetry." "Oh." "It's pretty good, too. I dunno if maybe it's the translation into English or whatever, but his verses just... Dance. They're bright and vivid and just alive. Haven't seen anything to compare before and since." "Ooh. So, what does that have to do with love?" "Oh. Uh. (Wow, talk about yer tangents...) I dunno. I guess I'm just pointing out that lots of people have said lots of things about it. Like, Plato said you shouldn't love a person, you should love their virtues or whatever. The person is only a conduit for this, you know, greater good or whatever. I think everyone in my class agreed that he was bullshit." "I agree. Ee-yuck. But forget all these dead Greek guys. What do you think love is?" His brow furrowed as he concentrated, and he was silent for a moment. "I think the best way to describe it is what some other guy wrote--thankfully, he's still alive. He said it was this giddy, happy feeling at just being able to be near you. And when you're close to me, the whole world looks brighter, and when you leave, it's like everything went dark again." He shrugged. "I guess that's what they mean when they say 'Light of my life' or whatever." "Do you really feel that way," she asked quietly. He nodded. "Yeah. You're... You're what matters to me, Heather." She drew him close and held him tight. He felt her tears and her smile on his bare chest and kissed the top of her head. "What about you," he asked when it seemed she had composed herself. "What do you think love is?" "I dunno," she said. "I mean, I was asking the question." They giggled. "But, I think... Well, it's what you said, for one. Things are always better when you're around. Actually, I don't know why I never made the connection. When I'd be near Trent, or Jason, or whoever I was dating, things would look up--but when I was near you, the same thing would happen. But, anyway. It's more than that. It's like... You know, you want things to work out for them. When you would talk about trying to get together with Jane, or whoever else it was (I could never remember), and when you did get together with Jane... I mean, a part of me was always a little uncomfortable, because I think I wanted to be that girl, but the rest of me was just... Always hoping. Praying that things would go right for you. And it's the same for Adam, too, and all my other friends." She paused for a moment, and sighed. "You know, I never really felt that way about any of my boyfriends. Isn't that odd? Jason would talk about the football team, and I wouldn't really care. Bobby would worry about the SATs, and I wouldn't really care. I was in love with them, but I wasn't friends with them. Isn't that odd?" "Well, we are teenagers," he said. "Teens do some really weird stuff sometimes." "Like think they're in love," she said, a little cynically. "What," he said, "you only think you're in love with me?" "Well, I don't know. I mean, everyone says love is a mature emotion, and teenagers are kinda not mature, by definition, you know? I don't know if that's true or not. They also say that if you're in love, you just... Know. But that's such bullshit, it means there is no, you know, no definition of love, it could be anything. If you just know, then you'll never know." "It could be a stomache ache." "Yeah, exactly! So... I kinda don't wanna pass judgement. There's too much potential for being wrong. I know I think I'm in love. But I don't know if I am." "But then you could use it as an excuse for anything. You could just say, you know, 'Oh, I'm in love,' and lie to yourself and just use it as an excuse for fucking." "Now hold on a second," she said. "Heather, if you don't believe you can fall in love, it'll always be an excuse. Even if it's real, you'll just dismiss it or use it to justify yourself." "I see," she said. "I see your point." At the same time, his arms tightened around her and his hands stroked her back, in reassurance that he did not actually believe this about her. "Do you believe we can fall in love?" she asked. "Yes," he said. "Maybe I'm wrong. I think I'm ready. But regardless, I think we have to believe we can. Or else it's all pointless." "So we have to lie to ourselves about what we feel," she asked. "Maybe. But if we don't believe it can be something bigger and better than just sex, it'll never become that." She said nothing, turning this new thought over in her head. "You have to believe you can fall in love. That way, if it does happen... I mean, if you label everything 'love,' then you're bound to be right eventually. Like the thing about the monkeys. There's this theory that if you put an infinite amount of monkeys in front of an infinite number of typewriters, one of them will eventually produce Shakespeare. It's kind of the same--and just as haphazard, too. You may end up being wrong a lot. Maybe you'll marry someone because of a stomach ache. But you still have to believe." She nodded. "Yeah. I see. It's kinda like free will. Whether we have it or not, we have to believe we have it, or else our choices and our lives mean nothing." He nodded. "Yeah." She smiled up at him. "See, this is so cool. With other people, after we had sex, he'd mumble something and then turn over and go to sleep. You, I can have philosophical arguments with." He beamed. "Well, that's what I'm here for." "What, philosophical debates?" "Only post-coital philosophical debates." "What, so every time I wanna talk about Life, The Universe and Everything, I have to fuck you first?" He grinned. "I'm joking." She laughed. "Good, 'cause that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard. 'Ugh. Ugh. UHH! By the way, honey, what's the point of free will?'" They laughed over that for a few moments, and then fell into companionable silence. Heather snuggled into his arms, feeling warm and pleasant and more content than she had in a very long time. "So," she said, "now what? It's not even eleven. We have lots of time..." Her eyes lidded provocatively, and she ran a hand across his inner thigh. "...If you want to do anything." His cock twitched as her hand continued its travels, jutting against her stomach. They both looked down at it. "I'm sure I can think of something," he said, grinning. "Or if not we could, ah, put our heads together and think of something." She did, matching his lips to hers, their tongues teasing each other through open mouths, feeling each other's heartbeat and breath. Her hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke it gently; not to be outdone, he put a hand to the outside of her groin and moved it up and down, feeling it beginning to swell and moisten. They remained that way for a while; but then a thought occurred to her and she broke off. "But you have two heads," she said, grinning. To illustrate, she gave a soft pinch to the bulbous end of his cock. "Which of these shall you be putting together with my one head?" "Which would you like," he asked her. "Well, I still haven't blown you," she said. "And I would like to." The joking tone fell from his voice, and he spoke tenderly. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to." "Aww." She pouted, temporarily taking the role of the sullen child. "Can I do anything I do want to do?" "You can do anything you want," he said. "And, ah, you can do anyone you want, too. Just so long as it's me." She giggled. "That sounds enjoyable. Mind if I get started?" Without waiting for his permission, she dove towards his hips and took his cock in her mouth. Colin groaned when her warm mouth closed around him. He groaned even more when her tongue began to swipe around the head of his cock. He placed his hands on her head and put some effort into massaging her scalp, but their attention was clearly elsewhere and he soon gave it up. Her head began to bob back and forth and she applied a bit of suction, but they both knew that the glans was where the action was, and she seemed intent on getting through this at maximum speed. "Wow, kinda... In a hurry, aren't you," he said. She giggled; it came out a little muffled around his cock. She smiled up into his eyes. "Buckle your seatbelts, love, this is gonna be intense." She went to it with a will, alternately attacking the head and licking up and down his shaft; and a couple of times, she licked his over balls, her hand still stroking up and down his shaft. Presently it got hard to give them attention, because he was coming closer and closer with every passing second, and his balls were retracting in preparation to shoot their load. The sensations on his cock were maddening and incredible; he had no idea he could feel this good. The warm wetness of her mouth engulfed him, drawing him in; her tongue sailed over the surface of his glans, sending shocks and jolts through his system. His eyes were closed; his mouth opened, drawing air in ragged gulps; his hands pressed at her head, begging her to continue. "Heather-- Heather-- I'm gonna come soon--" She smiled up at him again. She could tell from his breathing and the stiffness of his cock that it was going to be soon. She latched onto the head of his penis, applying strong suction, and rubbed her tongue across its underside. "Oh, God, Heather-- Oh!--" She felt the first spurt against the back of her throat and jumped a bit--it never failed to startle her when a man came in her mouth. But even as she tasted the first jolt of his warm, salty cum on her tongue, the next came, and she began to swallow, doing her best to keep up with him while still applying some sort of stimulation. She lost track of how many times he squirted, because she was still moving, stroking the head of his penis, licking the underside of his shaft, as his groans faded and the fire burned down. She continued to lick him gently for a minute or two, delicately cleaning every inch of his cock with her tongue, as he came down from his high. Then she scooted back up to the top of the bed, where he threw his arms around her and kissed her soundly. "That was intense," he said, grinning. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said primly. "You swallowed?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "You didn't have to." "I know," she said, smiling. "But I don't mind. It's a good source of protein." He laughed. "Protein. Right." When his laughter stopped, he gave her a direct look, serious and intense, and when he said, "I love you," she knew he meant it. She was a little shaken by his intensity. She forced a laugh. "Not just because of the blowjob, I hope." "No," he said. "Because you're a good friend. And because I've seen you in bad places and I've seen you get your ass out of there all by yourself, without needing anyone's help. And because I admire you and the strength that you show." He smiled. "And yeah, you give great blowjobs." Now it was her turn to be serious. "I never thought of myself that way." She made a disbelieving laugh. "When people tell you they look up to you, you know, it's... It's like, so startling, so completely irrational. You don't believe it for a second." She looked up at him. "But then I hear you talk that way and I think... Hey, what if it's true? What if I really do have something to admire? Besides, like, my tits and ass and all that." "A lot more besides that," he reassured her. "Well." She smiled at him. "It's a different feeling. But it's nice. I feel like I can do anything." He held her close, and she clung as tightly as he did. "I'm gonna go turn off the lights," he said eventually, and yawned. "It's... It's getting late." He got up, went over to the light switches by the door, and shrouded the room in darkness. Enough light came in through the windows, from the streetlights outside, for him to see, and he made his way back to the bed and its rumpled comforter, which Heather was slithering under. "I take it you're not going home tonight then," he said. She gave him a radiant grin. "What, you really think I'm going to pass up the chance to spend the night with the man I love? It's not like I've had one before now." "Well," he said, returning her grin. "That makes two of us." "You've never had somebody there?" she asked. "With you, at night?" He shook his head, halfway under the covers. "No." She looked at him with something akin to shock. "Wow. That sucks." "I know," he said, his voice resigned. "But at least now there's someone here." He settled down next to her. "I was starting to think I'd reach twenty without ever having someone to hold at night." "Well, not if I can help it," she said, smiling. She took his arm and put it around her. He was silent for a moment, and she could see from his face that he had something important to say. "I..." He hesitated, stumbling over the idea. "I can't help but feeling like I owe you something. I mean, here I am, I've had sex for the first time after years of making do with my hand, I'm in bed with the most beautiful woman I know, who also happens to be my best friend... I am, like, the luckiest man alive. There's gotta be a hook somewhere." A smile flitted across his features. "You know, fine print or something." "What are you saying," Heather asked him. Colin's mouth opened and closed like a fish's. He searched for words. "Well-- I feel like you're getting the short end of the stick here," he said. "And that kind of makes me feel bad. 'Cause you deserve better than that. I mean, I should probably make it up to you or something." She laid a finger across his lips. "Don't think that." He didn't reply, in deference to her wish for silence, but his eyebrows went up quizically. "Colin, I can explain it all away in about three words: I love you." She kissed him. "Sure, yeah, you've had more orgasms than I have. Sure, it was your first time but not mine. But that's okay. I don't care if there's an imbalance, and if you really do, I'll tell you how you can make up for it. But it doesn't bother me. If it makes you happy, I don't mind." "Well," he said, "I want to make you happy too." "Then we should both be very happy together," she said, grinning. He drew her to him and kissed her. She moved in closer, until their bodies were pressing together. He ran his hands across her back, over her shoulders, through her hair; her hands wandered similarly over his body. His came to rest, eventually, on her buttocks; he lightly squeezed them, and then drew her hips even closer to his, so that she could feel his hard-on, jutting out at her pelvis. "Mmm," she said. "Do you want?" "Do you want?" he asked. "I'm, like, all cummed out already." "Surely you have a little left." "Well, I suppose. I don't think you ever completely run out. But I've never tested." An apologetic smile. "Once is enough for me, generally." She giggled. "You are like a girl sometimes! It's so surreal. Sometimes you act just like a guy, and then there are other times when I think you've grown boobs or something. I never know what to expect." He grinned at her. "Well, you better not have a problem with it, because I'm not going to stop." "Oh no?" she said playfully. "No," he said. And then, thinking, Might as well take the final plunge: "I'm actually rather proud of it." "You are so shitting me!" "No, I'm not!" He stuck his tongue out at her. "You look at the way guys act. They talk about women like they're sex objects. They don't have any common sense. The only reason they keep their grades up is so that they can go to the parties and get drunk. It's ridiculous. I don't want to be like that, and I'm proud to be not like that. And if it means I end up acting like a girl... Well, that's fine with me. At least I'm not thinking with my dick." She was silent for a time, looking at him, turning these new thoughts over in her head. "That's what I like about you," she said. "You have courage. You have these values of yours and you stick to them. And you're not ashamed of them. Even something like thinking like a woman." He shrugged uncomfortably. He didn't see what the big deal was. So he stuck to his guns. So what? "It's different," she said. "Well," he said, "some time during elementary school, with everyone laughing at me no matter what I did... I tried to do the things that other people were respected for, and it didn't work. And I realized that, no matter what I did, people would still laugh at me. Getting their respect just wasn't an option. So I figured that if I couldn't please them, I might as well please myself." "Yeah, but-- Don't you see?" she said. "The values you chose... Not everyone would have decided to be honest and compassionate and intelligent like you are." He blushed. "You flatter me, madam." "You know it's true," she said, giving him a fond smile. "Well." He shrugged. "That's who I want to be." "And that's different," she said. He smiled. "Okay, okay, you win." The last word was interrupted by a yawn. "Boy, it's getting late. I don't know about you, but I am like completely..." He took a good look at her. To judge by her face, it might have been noon. "Jeez, where do you get all this energy?" She gave him a malicious grin. "Probably because you owe me those orgasms." "Can we defer to tomorrow? Not that I don't want to go down on you. I love doing that." The plain honesty in his voice made her smile. "But I don't think I'd be much use to either of us if I fell asleep with my face in your pussy." "All right," she said, "tomorrow." Now that she thought about it, she was kind of tired. Sleep would probably be a good thing. Especially here, in Colin's arms. "Good night." "Good night," he said, giving her a kiss, and they snuggled together, their bodies close, their arms wrapped around each other. Sleep washed over them in a silent wave.
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