Message-ID: <61020asstr$1297714203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com
X-Original-Message-ID: <AANLkTi=CzpQ8OoxVhMd5rZntBORj7x1oC=RNGV4enzbv@mail.gmail.com>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2011 10:50:30 -0600
Subject: {ASSM} "Good Advice - M" -- Uther -- MF
Lines: 2014
Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2011 15:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2011/61020>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, emigabe
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.
Good Advice - M
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
MF
Bill Pierce made good time on the Evanston Express
on Wednesday. It was the exception to his rule that
the CTA had a major breakdown every time you
depended on it to be on time. It was only a few
minutes past 6 when he climbed the stairs to his
apartment. And his fiancee, Carolyn, was there --
rather than buried in the library. It looked like
they'd get to their premarital-counseling session
on time. Her kiss, even if he couldn't feel much of
her body through his coat, was arousing.
"Mmm. Everything went well." And everything seemed
to be going even better here. "We have lots of
time, really," he continued, "It's not 6:15 yet.
Still, shouldn't you get your coat on? Better to
have the extra time to dawdle at the restaurant."
"We're not going to a restaurant." she replied.
"Wait two minutes, and I'll have dinner on the
stove. Wait here." She bustled into the kitchen. He
waited there, obedient to orders. Still, what sort
of dinner could be cooked and eaten in a little
more than an hour?
"It wasn't even two minutes." He said. Actually, he
hadn't looked at his watch, but she'd been really
fast. "You're remarkable, but what can you cook in
that little time?" Whatever it was, he'd eat it.
His feelings for the cook would improve he flavor
of the food.
"That wasn't the cooking; that was the culmination.
Now, get your coat off." When he did, the kiss was
longer. He could feel her melons press against his
chest and the rest of her sweet body against the
rest of his. Dinner, when she served it later, was
quite special. She served lamb chops, rice that
tasted delicious, and a salad. She also served
asparagus, but he'd let her eat that.
"This is delicious," he said. "If I wasn't already
engaged, I'd propose to the cook."
"Too late. I'm engaged."
He smiled. "Two ships that pass in the night." And,
at the end of dinner, "You cooked. I'll wash."
"Do you know how to clean off a grill?" She'd
raised a practical problem. This was the first use
that grill had seen since he'd rented the
apartment.
"No. Maybe you can show me. It looks like that one
will be used."
"Let's let it cool down." Which was the first
lesson in washing it. Carolyn hit the books while
he washed up. He stayed out of the bedroom until
practically time to leave for the church.
Jake ushered them into his office and got down some
data. Carolyn was 25. Then he sat back and got to
the serious stuff.
"Each of you have been telling me about yourselves.
Now tell me about the other. What would you say is
your greatest compatibility as a couple?" That was
a poser. Luckily, he called on Carolyn first. She
didn't seem to have thought any more about this
than he had, but by the time Jake turned to him,
he'd an answer ready, if not a great one.
"Well... She's a woman, and I'm a man. All the best
marriages start that way." Jake didn't seem
impressed.
"What are your thoughts about children?" Jake was
looking at him, perhaps having given up on
Carolyn's answering anything, perhaps lobbing him
an easy one after the flub on the last. But this
question wasn't as easy as Jake might think.
"That will have to depend on Carolyn's schedule."
She was a grad student, would become a professor.
She wasn't going to turn into a baby-making machine
to keep his arms warm. Jake then turned to Carolyn,
and she began considering the question. When he'd
given her time to reach a conclusion, and seen that
she wasn't going to, Jake sat forward again.
"Look when were you planning to have the wedding?"
he asked.
"February 17, that is..." Carolyn began. Jake cut
her off.
"And when was the engagement?"
"Last Saturday." She was still speaking. Those
questions, she could answer.
"Well, I've been thinking that you were
precipitous. Maybe I was, instead. Let's schedule
this conference for another time. I know your
schedule is tight, Bill, and I have church meetings
with other men with the same tight schedule. I like
to leave Saturdays open, but this is the sort of
session for which I keep them open. Can we schedule
Saturday, the 20th?"
"It would have to be afternoon," she said.
"Three p.m?" Jake asked. That was okay with him,
Carolyn looked like it was okay with her, too.
"Saturday, 3:00," he said.
"And you know what sort of questions I'll be
asking. You can't plan out your entire marriage in
ten days. And, when you do plan it all out, those
plans will come unglued. But you need to have the
marriage planned beyond the wedding reception. But
let me leave you with one thought.
"Sexual attraction is a fine aspect to a marriage,"
Jake continued. "It is, though, merely one aspect.
It is not a solid foundation." Well, he hadn't said
that he wouldn't perform the service, but he had
suggested that he wouldn't complain if they
cancelled out. He and Carolyn were deep in their
own thoughts as they went home. The kiss when they
were out of their coats was as sexy as ever, weak
foundation for a marriage or not. That was really
his fault, but he couldn't see parting from her,
either.
"What do you think of kids?" he asked.
"I don't really know. I don't have to ask you that,
do I?" Not really. But he hadn't proposed so as to
get kids deeper into his life.
"No. Let's get that grill clean." And they did.
This time, she took the living room for studying,
and he went into the bedroom. He'd rather watch
her, but he could understand that that would
disturb her. He took off his shoes and lay on top
of the bed. Jake was both right and wrong. They
hadn't negotiated what their marriage would be
like, but it wasn't simply because they hadn't had
enough time. He didn't want a marriage; he wanted
Carolyn. He was surrendering to marriage to get
her.
That was a lousy basis for a marriage; so what? It
was the only way to get Carolyn in the 20th
century. If he had Bluebeard's castle, he'd simply
lock her up. Probably, that wouldn't work, anyway.
He'd get her body that way, and a great body it
was, too. But if he put Carolyn in a cage, he'd
lose *Carolyn*. Sure she needed somebody to pull
those jeans down and spank her sexy buns for a few
hours until he beat some sense into her, but he
wasn't volunteering. She'd die before giving in.
These thoughts chased each other around in his head
without getting any further.
Finally, she interrupted those thoughts by coming
in for her robe. She went out and into the
bathroom. He pictured her stripping and washing.
When she stayed after the water stopped running, he
pictured her brushing her hair -- nude. When she
came in, he hid his hardon while getting out of
bed. Ready for the night, and shaved again, he came
back. He got the rubber out, put it where he could
grab it without floundering around, and got into
bed. Carolyn, who could be infuriating in some
things, was never coy about sex. She wanted him, or
-- at least -- wanted sex, as much as he wanted
her.
"Want me to try to get warm before I hug you?" he
offered. He hid his hands in his armpits.
"Please." Well, if they couldn't touch, they should
talk.
"What did you think?" That brought no response. "Of
Jake's questions?"
"Well, he's right," she said at last. "We have been
planning things, but less a marriage than living
together." That was half the problem. The other
half was him. He didn't want a marriage, really,
except for living together.
"Well, the next three years are the budget crunch."
he reminded her. "And we have said we'll get a
larger apartment. And we've said you'll do what's
best for your academic career." They hadn't been
totally remiss in planning. "If we haven't said
I'll keep working at Andalusia, we've both been
assuming it. In case you're interested, they're
more likely to promote me -- though not soon --
than to fire me." She might well be as ignorant of
his life as he was of hers -- more so possibly,
he'd, at least, checked on hers, and he'd been a
student if not a teacher in college. She'd never
seen the inside of a drug company.
"What's best for my academic career with the
restriction that I stay in the Chicago area." And
that had been a fear of his, that she'd think of
marriage to him as a drag on her career
possibilities.
"Well, yes. I was afraid that you'd look at that
and refuse me."
"It isn't that bad. I won't have to choose between
a junior college here and Harvard. If I have a
chance at Harvard, and we're talking decades in the
future, I'll have a chance at Northwestern or -- at
worst -- Loyola."
"Or the U of C," he suggested. Why not aim for the
top?
"I'll never get a job at Chicago." Well, there was
no sense in arguing about future possibilities.
Maybe he should change the subject.
"I got the take-home figures for next year. That's
still short-term, but we can work out a budget.
I'll read real-estate ads in the <i>Trib</i> on the
El tomorrow, maybe the next day, too. That will
give us some figures for larger apartments in
Evanston. Can you estimate your clothing expense?"
"Look," she replied. "I've been thinking about
that. Where I teach will influence what I wear,
travel costs, and lunch costs. But the salary has
to cover that. Why don't we just say that I'll plan
on my present clothing expense, If it's more, it'll
come out of my salary. Nobody will offer a salary
which doesn't cover that much." That made sense.
Any budget that they made now would have to accept
amendments fairly soon, but saying that outgo
amendments would have to be covered by income
amendments at least allowed them to see that they
wouldn't go broke.
"And total up your other expenses -- lipstick and
the like." What in hell did she spend money on?
Tuition, of course, and books, but what else?
"Anyway, we'll put together a budget. What else do
we have to decide in these ten days?"
"Why I like you." He sure couldn't help her there.
"Well, I didn't know you did."
"He's right, you know," she didn't respond. "Sexual
desire is an insufficient basis for a marriage."
"So just move in." But would she give up her
opportunities in other areas for that?
"Too late. I showed everybody the ring." But she
sounded like she was joking.
"Well," he said, "if it's a weak foundation, we
should be sure to give it plenty of exercise to
strengthen it." His hand felt warm enough to him,
and he'd communicated all the helpful stuff he'd
thought out.
When he reached over, she turned her head. They
shared a kiss lying down, and he stroked over her
smoothness. But he wanted more contact. When he got
up on his side to see and feel and kiss more of
her, the sheets slid off his shoulders. She was
sensitive to the cold.
"Manage the covers, would you," he asked. She
pulled them back in position. Meanwhile, he kissed
her sweet face and felt her smooth melons. Then he
kissed her mouth while stroking down across her
flat, quivering, belly. She might have brushed her
head hair for herself, but he got to comb the hair
on her mound with his fingers.
Then he held the outside of her snatch in his hand.
He held one hairy lip with his index and middle
finger and rubbed the other against it with his
thumb. The less pressure he used, the better she
seemed to like it. When he teased those lips apart,
her groove was nice and juicy. He slid his hand in
-- index finger in front, but all fingers held
together. He moved his hand up and down slightly
while he kissed her ear, down her neck, up her
melon. As he moved his mouth up the melon to the
tip, he moved his finger up her groove to her nub.
He reached both goals at once.
She stiffened. He sucked the tip once, and then
licked it while brushing his finger from one side
to the other over her nub. When she stiffened still
more, he moved his kiss to the tip of the other
melon. When he managed to still his finger, she
responded by moving her pelvis. Still, delightful
as that was, he moved his hand away from her nub
and deeper into her groove. He kissed down her
melon and up her neck.
"Bill." She wanted him, and she knew who she
wanted. He kissed her. His tongue explored her
mouth while his finger explored her groove up to
her nub. He brushed her nub and licked her tongue
until she went over. Then he withdrew his tongue
for fear of her teeth. He kept brushing her nub,
though, until she'd gone over completely.
Then he rested his hand on her mound while he
kissed her face. The delightful girl was ready for
him. When she'd gone over once, his going over
without her, always a danger when his dick was
inside that glorious snatch, would be a minor blip
rather than a major offense. He held her snatch
again, moving one hairy lip against the other while
he kissed down her neck and up her melon. He kissed
the tip while he reached for the rubber. He moved
it to his left hand to open it. Then he rolled it
onto his dick. Once in position, he opened her
snatch and placed himself. He kissed the tops of
both melons while adjusting his posture. He slid
his dick in through the warm smoothness until he
was as far into her snatch as he could get.
"Carolyn." She responded by thrusting her pelvis up
against him. As he stroked in and out of that
warmth, she matched his motions with her own. He
watched her face as he felt their matching motions
move her snatch along his dick. He'd yearned to
turn her scowls into smiles, but *this* scowl was
lovelier than any smile. It turned into a grimace
just before she went over.
Then, he drove his dick in and out of her clutching
snatch as long as he could. He drove in as deep as
he could go and erupted.
When he got his strength back, he moved off her and
to his left. They nestled in the spoon again.
"Love you," he murmured.
"I checked about the license," he continued after a
minute. "The major requirement is that each of us
get a test for venereal diseases. There are fees
and a brief waiting period after the exam, too, so
we shouldn't wait too long. Anyway..."
"Do you ever worry that there's something we're
forgetting absolutely?" Carolyn asked. Since she
was facing away from him, she had to use a normal
voice. He could feel it from his position pressed
against her back.
"All the time. We get down in the front of the
sanctuary, and Jake says: 'Wait a minute, you
haven't done this. I can't perform the ceremony.'
Well, we'll ask him next time. It's more likely
something we haven't thought about which makes it
damn hard to live together."
"Someday, you'll have to give me a list of the
foods you don't eat." She was presumably thinking
about living together. "And do you mind adding a
pressure cooker to the shopping list, maybe a
better pot for cooking rice?"
"Sure and another wastebasket, I'd think. You
probably need one on your side." His list was
getting longer, too.
"Well, your additions are going to be cheaper than
mine," she said. So far they were. "I thought of a
cookbook. I don't know how to cook many things. But
I want to wait until after the ceremony. Mama is
likely to give me one." That seemed awfully
parsimonious.
"Well, women have more than one cookbook. Have you
ever seen the shelf in Gladys's kitchen?"
"You're not marrying Gladys," she said. "Get very
clear about that. I'm not going to exhaust *one*
cookbook in my entire life. I just want to add a
few recipes to my repertoire before you get sick of
the ones I can cook." He could point out that he
hadn't asked her to cook once -- well, one
breakfast, but that was in response to her saying
that she had to cook something. Instead, he changed
the subject.
"I've thought of something earlier, don't think I
mentioned it. For our weekly food budget, why don't
you think of how many meals you'll cook in a normal
week. Then tell me the number, and get a grocery
budget to supply those. I'll figure out the eating-
out budget for the other meals, at mid-range
restaurants. That total is our food budget. When
exam time or something makes you want to eat less,
we'll eat out, but more cheaply. For a girl who
asks for McDonald's and pizza, that shouldn't be
too great a sacrifice." What he wanted, by now, was
*some* kind of a budget. They could make amendments
to that.
"Yeah, and break-times we can eat in more, but
fancier meals." She seemed to be accepting a weekly
food budget.
"I don't want to eat out mornings." Then he thought
of birthdays and anniversaries. "Special mornings,
if you wish -- so any breakfasts you don't cook
will be my cooking. Four eggs and toast, put that
in your shopping budget. I think my weekday lunches
can be a separate budget item. No sense in trying
to fit that in. Business dinners are another budget
item, expensive for the food involved, but worth it
for the show." They seemed to be inching towards a
budget, although they were talking without paper
and pencil -- without even a light.
He snuggled against her back. He was holding a
melon and breathing in the scent of her skin.
He cooked breakfast again the next morning. Carolyn
woke up more slowly than he did. Should she cook
Sunday breakfasts? Well, maybe, but he might
persuade her to celebrate those mornings they
didn't have to rush away with something a lot
better than a special breakfast.
"Look," she asked, "Can I make some more phone
calls from here? They sort of involve the
marriage."
"Sure. And that doesn't restrict it." That wasn't
really what he meant. "I mean that you can make
phone calls, and they don't have to be about the
marriage. Obviously we can afford only so much on
our long-distance bill, but you're the person who
wants to be careful about expenses." He'd asked her
to move in. His only objection was how little she
was planning to.
When he got home that night, he found a note:
<blockquote>Pick me up at the church at
8:30.</blockquote> Great. She was gone. At least
she was planning on coming back; at least, when she
wrote that note, she had been planning on coming
back. He fed himself on left-overs, the sloppy-joe
mix and some of the rice. He zapped it in the
microwave. He got to watch TV since she wasn't
studying in the next room, but he would have
preferred to have her unseen presence. He picked
her up at the church, along with several others who
met choir members there.
"I'm assuming that you ate," he said after their
greeting kiss but before he started the car. "I had
some of that sloppy-joe stuff on the rice. Micro-
waved, it isn't a bad mixture." He was keeping an
even tone; after all, she was coming back with him.
"I ate," she responded. "After all, I have a meal
plan. And I had just committed you to more outgo --
A tux and my corsage, I think. You've already
bought the rings. Mama wants a fancy wedding. I
explained that we expected them to pay next
semester's tuition instead. She said that they
would cover both." That was interesting. He hadn't
considered her tuition for next quarter, not even
for nest year. He'd have to put that in the budget.
"Um, when did I expect them to cover next
semester's tuition?"
"When I was on the phone to Mama."
"Well," he conceded, "we're one couple. You can
commit me -- especially for something like that.
But what made you leave me so suddenly?"
"Let's understand one thing," she exploded. So much
for his soft answer turning away wrath. "I'm not
leaving you every time I go back to the Residence
Hall. I have things to do there. I have things
there. I have different courses Monday, Wednesday,
and Friday than I have Tuesday, Thursday, and
Saturday. I have to change course materials, I have
to change clothes. What I don't have to do is
explain myself every *fucking* time."
"You sure you don't dye hour hair."
"You've seen the hair that women don't dye often
enough." Well, yes, he'd seen the hair on her
mound. And, he didn't really suspect that she was
naturally a redhead, but...
"Seen it? Yes. Often enough? No. But redheads are
supposed to be the ones with the temper."
"Well, you lose," she said. "You got the brunette
with the temper."
"Okay." Let's see if she could argue with that?
"I left you a note. I should have been explicit
that I was going to eat, maybe. I thought you could
figure that out from the time. I'm used to being
around people who can see the obvious." She could
argue with "okay." She could argue with anything.
"So I asked. I didn't assume the opposite; I
checked. Assuming things about you hasn't really
worked well for me. And we're going to be married.
You're going to live there all the time. I think
that's what >really bugs you, not my question." It
was the only answer.
"Well, I'll have that as my residence. I won't be
there all the time; you're not there all the time."
Fine. She had to go to school, study in the
library, shop, rehearse for choir. He had to go to
work. But when he was out of her presence, he
wanted to be near her. It seemed to him that she
fled his presence as often as not.
"But, aside from the days you know I'll be gone, I
expect to tell you when I won't be."
"And I told you, if not that I was gone -- I repeat
that I'm used to people who could have figured that
out -- at least when you should pick me up."
"And I did, didn't I. Do you want to go home now?"
"Yeah." So he started the car and drove toward
home.
"Look, I'm an individual. I have to have some space
in my life."
"Well," he responded, "we're both individuals. We
have, however, agreed to join our lives together.
For the life we've chosen to have together, you
need to do some things to please your school and
your future employers. I have to do some things to
please my present employer. I think I've been
flexible about that. Then we have to please
*ourselves*. But it's more than your pleasing your
own damn self. I don't think I've been pressing in
on you."
"You don't?" She was nearly shouting. "Well, wise
up. You press in on me every time we talk."
"Then, next time, say, 'This is something your
pushing me on.' Be real. Be specific. Talk about
something I've done, not something you think I am."
If she had an answer to that, she didn't express
it.
In the apartment, though, her kiss was warm. Their
tongues tangled while their hands roamed. It seemed
to him that they'd get along fine if they didn't do
all this talking. He suggested sticking to their
area of agreement.
"Was dinner long enough ago? Want to go to bed
now?" She, however, wanted to keep talking.
"Look, about Jake's question on children. I've
decided."
"Yes?"
"I think I could go with one, but the time has to
be settled. A permanent employer will have some
sort of maternity-leave policy. Nobody giving you a
one-year contract will want you dropping the class
in the middle of the semester. So, we'll have to
wait until I'm settled." One was more than he'd
expected to have of his own before she showed up.
But didn't this sound like what he'd said to Jake?
"You didn't say this last night." She could have
simply by agreeing with him, but he didn't suggest
that. It would never occur to Carolyn to agree with
him.
"I just saw it this morning. I think my questions
jelled into an answer in my sleep."
"Last night, what did I say? If he asks me again,
what should I say differently?" She digested this.
He didn't wait for her to acknowledge its truth.
"You know, you know more about your field than I
do. But you think I don't know anything about it. I
know that wants are infinite while supply is
limited. Well, I want Carolyn, lithe, and slender,
and active, in my bed every night. I want you to be
a baby machine, turning out a new infant for me to
play with every year. I want you singing in the
choir so I can say, 'that sweet tone; that's my
wife.' I want you sitting beside me, with my arm
around you down in the pew. But the supply of
Carolyns is even more limited than most supplies. I
can't have all of these. I'm not going to abandon
you, or even scream, because one or the other isn't
available." As an adult, he didn't scream, although
she drove him closer than he'd been for years.
"Now, was that what the earlier fight was about?"
She should get clear what they were fighting about.
He didn't mind having fights; he didn't even mind
losing fights. He sure-as-Hell minded having fights
when he hadn't the faintest idea what they were
about.
"You really think of me in your bed that way?" If
she wasn't going to deal with his question, he was
perfectly happy to deal with this one.
"Sure, and 'every night' is a tiny fraction of what
I *want*. But Carolyn isn't the only supply which
is limited."
"Your desire is limited?" Not quite.
"My ability to perform is quite limited. My desire
seems to be limitless. Isn't that what you say
about wants. Anyway, when we're not making love,
after we've made love, I can hold you in my arms.
That's another pleasure." And one, it seemed to
him, that she had a habit of denying him
unnecessarily.
"Oh, Bill, I like to be in your arms, too."
"Then why aren't we lying like that? And, if
something more develops, we might just enjoy that,
too."
"My bathroom time first?" She switched suddenly to
practics. Someday, they'd share bathroom time;
someday, they'd shower together. But, that intimacy
wasn't something to push yet.
"Certainly." And, when he'd had his bathroom time -
- including shaving -- she was waiting for him,
nude, in his bed, and clearly willing.
"Do you really think of me that way?" she asked
while he was trying to warm his hands in his
armpits. What had he said? Well he certainly
thought of her as sexy.
"Oh yes," he answered. "You have to know how
sexually desirable you are. After all, am I the
first man who has wanted you? The breasts, sure.
But also the hair. I may have been the first man to
ask you to allow me to brush it. Was I the first to
want to touch it? And your buns. You must have
noticed how guys look at you when you're walking
away."
"And you don't look at any other woman's ass?"
That wasn't what he'd said.
"I never said that. You are especially pretty. That
doesn't mean that all other girls are ugly. I've
looked at plenty of girls; I've only proposed to
one.... Warm enough?" He reached out to hold her,
avoiding the melons at first.
"Yeah." She reacted so positively to his touch, and
so negatively to his words, that he sometimes
thought he should simply touch her and not speak at
all. Kissing was even more effective than touching.
When he leaned over to kiss her on the mouth, her
longue welcomed his. He cupped one melon and palmed
its smooth sides. When he got to its tip, that
firmed under his fingers. He slid his palm down the
melon and then across her soft belly. He stopped
before he got to her mound to point out his
interest in all of her.
"See? Sure, I'm interested in the destination, but
I like it here, too. You're so soft and firm here.
Yeah," he said when she stiffened her belly muscles
under his hand. She was firm, and smooth, and soft,
and -- especially -- sexy.
"Now look away from me." When she did, it moved an
ear within kissing range. She reacted to the kiss
by turning her head back. He kissed all over her
face while his hand combed through the hair over
her mound. He stroked the moisture up her groove
towards her nub as he kissed her face. He kissed a
line from her chin down her throat -- then, up her
melon while he brushed over her nub. When he
reached her tip, she was already tense. Then she
went over.
As soon as she relaxed, he kissed a path down her
melon and up her far one. He continued stroking her
nub and kissing that nipple again while she tensed
a second time. That was so arousing to feel, but
even better to see.
"Let me watch." He'd lifted his mouth off her melon
to say this, and he kept his head up to watch her
face. She was already frowning, and the frown
turned into a grimace as he stroked her nub and
watched her face. She looked as if she were in
agony just before she went over.
"Oh, Carolyn. Oh darling!" She was so arousing. As
she settled down and her face relaxed into a smile,
he got the rubber on and moved into position,
kneeling between her legs. The darling reached for
him!
"Bill," she said as she took his dick in her hand.
"Yes." She opened herself with one hand as she
guided into her with the other. "Carolyn," he said
as he pushed into the warm slickness of her snatch.
He looked at her face while he balanced himself
with his hands on her melons. She smiled at him.
Her warmth totally enclosed him. Then he moved in
and out of her snatch and back and forth above her.
He watched her face while he appreciated her
smoothness below and the firm touch of the tips of
her melons. He clenched his teeth to hold himself
back while her face turned to serious, to a frown,
to a grimace. If she didn't soon, he'd cross over
alone. Then her grimace turned to agony.
She clutched his dick in crossing over. He managed
to hold back while he drove twice more through that
clasping snatch. Then he drove deep into her and
poured himself out. He grabbed the rubber and
rolled to his left. That took the covers, and he
had to return them before he took care of himself.
He removed the rubber, chucked it, turned off the
light, and rolled back against her. She was already
in a position for the spoon. He was totally
satisfied, Was she?
"Mmm." She sounded satisfied.
"Mmm. Love you. Do I need to develop more
diversity?" Might as well ask.
"Hunh?"
"In love making. I'm enjoying myself, but do you
need more ways to go over?" He could provide
variety.
"You do great."
"Well, fine. And if you need more later... Hell! If
you want more later, if you even wonder whether it
could be better, then tell me then. Okay? I want to
be the best thing that ever happened to you, the
best thing that you could imagine happening to
you." She was the best thing that had ever happened
to him.
"Bill. In bed, you are." He had to laugh. Girl
might be hard to figure out, but it wasn't because
she hid her opinions.
"Thanks. And thanks, I guess, for the honesty of
the qualification.... Still thinking about Jake's
comment on building a marriage on sex?"
"Well, he's right. We're walking into a ripsaw."
Carolyn sure wasn't going into this wearing rose-
colored glasses. "On the other hand, what choice do
we have? It's not like we could start over and find
a better basis for our marriage."
"That's true."
"I asked Gladys," she continued, "what she'd think
if I were to marry Keith while lusting after you?"
He wasn't happy about her casualness in mentioning
another possible husband. They *were*, after all,
engaged.
"Isn't Keith a little young for you?"
"Yeah. But I was making it personal for Gladys. One
of the guys from my seminar would look fine to her.
She saw my point." Good for Gladys. He wasn't sure
that he did. Anyway, this was a time for cuddling
not fighting. He changed the subject.
"Look... On the budget. Find out -- Hell, you may
know already -- what we'll be paying for your last
year. You do have one more year after this one,
don't you?"
"More or less. Depends on how long it takes to
write the dissertation. Which depends, among other
things, on how complex a problem one looks at. It
has to be fairly complex. They won't let you get
away with term-paper stuff. It depends, also, on
how well you can compartmentalize. You're teaching
during the day, and you come home to write at
night. People have gone years before they threw in
the towel. For all I know, people have finished
dissertations after years of work." The gal did
*not* believe in simple answers to simple
questions. The last sounded something like rumors
he'd heard when he was down south, though.
"Especially at the U of C." That wasn't the
important question, though. "But didn't we say that
you weren't going to be teaching?"
"We didn't say it that strongly. I'm not going to
take a teaching job that either takes me away from
you or crowds out the dissertation writing." Which
sounded to him like not teaching. Anyway, a
surprise extra income from a teaching job wouldn't
foul up the budget calculations.
"Okay, your field. My field is the budget, and --
I'll admit -- I hadn't thought of tuition until you
told me you'd squeezed another quarter's tuition
out of your mother. It seems to me that big things,
especially big things like tuition which only come
up occasionally, need their own budget line. Rent,
too, even though it comes up every month. Then
little things we add together, and each of us gets
an allowance of pocket money. So we don't put EL
fare or lipstick into the budget. But add it up
carefully, so we don't short you." Especially since
she'd go off like a landmine if he asked about
Tampax.
"You're going to put me on an allowance?" Now she
sounded offended.
"And me." How did the gal keep solvent right now?
"And you'll see that my allowance is bigger. I can
skimp on some things, but not lunches. I eat too
many of those with my coworkers." Rather than rebel
against that, she pushed her buns into his lap and
against his dick. She seemed to go to sleep.
To make up for Wednesday, the EL was both crowded
and slow on Friday night. He got back to the
apartment late, but Carolyn wasn't there even then.
It didn't look like she had been. He hung up his
coat and read his mail. She got in half an hour
after he had.
"Sorry. I was at the library." Well, an apology, at
least. And he didn't want her to see him as
competition for her career.
"I could have picked you up there." Perhaps he
could have picked her up there. How long had she
been on her way home, anyway?
"Yeah. I should have called and left a message."
Then they kissed. They did this so much better than
they set priorities. And her buns were so sweet
under his hands. They went out to eat.
"Have you done anything about the budget?" he asked
when they'd selected their meals.
"Look, Bill, do we really need that before the
wedding?"
"Not, I suppose, really." After all, they were
getting married whatever the budget was. But they'd
have to set one, and he didn't want this delay to
be a precedent. On the other hand, she wasn't a
spendthrift even without a budget.
"Well, I woke up. I've been doing fine on my daily
stuff, but I haven't touched my papers. We're going
shopping Saturday, but I wish we could postpone
anything else that's not required before the
wedding until afterwards. I need more study time."
"You're the one who said we needed a double bed."
Was she shifting? How far was she shifting?
"And so we do. I'm not saying that Bill is wrong.
I'm saying that I was wrong, and not about
something you could have known." Well, whatever
that said for the future of the budget, it boded
well for the future of getting along.
"Okay. We still have to see Jake, though. He won't
perform a service without the counseling. And we
need the license, which means we need to get the
blood tests."
"I've scheduled mine. Can you get yours?" Now, that
was a surprise.
"Sure. I just expected to do them together."
"Well we won't." Then she changed the subject
entirely. "Do you have a typewriter? At home, I
mean."
"Sure." He'd been a student not all that long ago.
And he'd certainly not use an office typewriter,
much less bring his own in.
"Sure."
"Can I use it?"
"Sure. Should I get it out when we get home. It's
not the best."
"Well, student papers aren't graded on quality of
typewriter. Could you get it out when we get home
and show it to me? I don't need it right now." And
that's what they did. She checked out how to put it
away, although leaving it out would be fine with
him.
"Now," she sad. "I have typewriters in both places
-- useful."
"You could just move in."
"That would be even more work. You're not going to
see much or me for the next few days." And then,
before he could respond to that bad news, she
changed the subject again. "And, now, what space
can I have to study tonight? There are classes
tomorrow."
"What works best? Kitchen table?"
"Yeah." So she did her homework while he read in
the bedroom. Well, she *was* a student. Better to
have her find the apartment a fruitful place to
study.
She came in hours later to grab her robe. When she
came back, he took his own bathroom time. She was
totally concealed by the covers when he came back,
but she reached over to turn on the lamp. That let
him see enough to understand that she was nude.
"Sorry," she said, apparently about the lamp. Her
costume was much more important, and precisely what
he wanted.
"No problem. I could probably get from here to
there in the dark, if need be. But I'd just walk
back and forth turning it on."
"Same rule?" he asked when he was in bed. "Warm
hands?" He was already warming his hands in his
armpits.
"Yeah, but lie on your back." Then she was kissing
him.
"Huh?" He could never predict what she would do.
"This will keep you quiet," she said before
starting a full-mouth kiss. Even with his hands
unavailable, this was lovely, her tongue playing
with his and her melons pressed against his chest.
"This is for being so cooperative today, and for
being more cooperative later when I need you to
be," she said when she came up for air. That had
felt much better than it sounded.
"I'm starting to like what I hear less than what I
feel."
"I could not love thee," she misquoted, "dear, so
much, loved I not economics more."
"Actually, you could."
"Actually," she admitted, "I could. Actually, I
suspect, he could, too. But if you can't get
excuses from poetry, why do they make you learn so
much of it?" Carolyn was something between a wit
and a philosopher -- so many delightful qualities
aside from the two most obvious ones.
"I warn you. My hands are getting warm, and when
they do, I'm going to ravish you." Instead of
looking worried, she kissed him again. Then she
raised herself up to present him with one melon tip
and then the other. His hands, by this time, must
be warm enough for her buns, if not her now-wet
melons. He grabbed her and squeezed alternate buns.
She started tensing the one he was squeezing.
"Mmmm," he said. She pulled her melon out of his
mouth.
"Didn't your Mama teach you not to talk with your
mouth full?"
"She tried. I'm unteachable about some things." She
responded by lying down suddenly. He adjusted the
covers which that maneuver had totally disarrayed.
"You know, we're not only going to have to get a
new bed but new sheets and blanket as well." *Now*
the girl wanted to discuss budget. But she was
right -- would an electric blanket be better? But
this wasn't the time to raise a new issue.
"Yeah." But he wasn't going to discuss budget.
He kissed and stroked her, welcoming her response.
When she seemed about to cross over, he stopped
kissing the tip of her melon to speak.
"Yes, Carolyn. Cross over. Let me watch you cross
over." And he watched as her face turned from worry
to a grimace of agony. Then he felt her spasms
under his hand. "Yes. Yes, darling." The sight and
feel were intensely arousing. When she relaxed, he
lay beside her.
"Yeah. You are so beautiful, so erotic." When she
reached for him, he warned her. "Uh huh, I'm not
ready. Do you want me now?" At her nod, he grabbed
the rubber from under his pillow and put it on. He
was quite aroused. Afraid he might cross over
before she did this time, he moved his hand where
he could thumb her nub before he drove into her.
Then his cock was encased in her. Even through the
rubber, he could feel the warmth of her welcome. He
shifted so that he could hold a melon in his right
hand.
"Love you." Then he stroked within her in the
ancient rhythm. He watched her face transform once
more while the sensations from his cock flooded
him. He was about to lose it when she crossed over
first.
He drove into her. "Carolyn. God!" He let himself
pour out. When he collapsed, there was only one
elbow to support him. As soon as his strength
allowed it, he rolled off. He disposed of the
rubber and turned off the lamp. He hugged her, and
she cuddled into his lap. He was about to tell her
that he loved her when she spoke first.
"You know, I don't think we'd lose track of each
other in this bed, even in a double bed, if the
lamp were off. It would save electricity." Well,
that wasn't a savings he was looking forward to.
"But I like to watch you." She didn't pursue her
suggestion. Whether she had abandoned it or was
waiting for another opportunity, he couldn't say.
The Hell with Jake's questions. What they really
had to establish was which issues the other one had
accepted as settled.
A blizzard hit that night. When he looked out, the
parked cars he could see were buried to their
bumpers.
"Can you drive in this?" He asked Carolyn after
breakfast. If she needed the car that day, he'd
have her drive him to the EL. The walk wasn't
usually too bad, but it looked like wading through
snow drifts this morning.
"Not very well." Well, that answered the question
of who should drive.
"Why don't I drive you and leave you where you
want. I'll park near the EL." He took her to her
dorm where she could change footwear. Even she
didn't think tennis shoes appropriate for this
weather.
"Pick me up at the library at nine would you," she
said as she got out of the car. "I really have to
study. I'll eat." That was fine. There was no
problem in Carolyn's doing her job. The problem was
in her blowing him off.
The Evanston Express, if not all that express, got
him to work before nine. Secretaries and clerks
straggled in for the next hour, but that was only a
foretaste of the problems the representatives
presented. They traveled by car, and kept reporting
that hospitals and doctors' offices were
unreachable. Bill suspected that patients had
managed to reach their doctors, and many of them
had mobility problems. The storm had hit most of
the region, and the eastern edge, which had got
little snow in the night, was getting it during the
day.
Well, he did what he could. He left only a little
after five, and took half an hour to dig his car
out of the parking place which had had snow plowed
up to the door handle on the drivers side. Even so,
he had time to watch TV after dinner before going
for Carolyn at the library. He'd rather have been
watching her. He left the car running and the
heater on until she came out.
"And how was your day?" he asked when she was in
the car and they had started creeping home.
"Bastard assigned another paper this late." Not
100% clear. "And how was yours?" Answer that first.
"All sorts of holes today. Representatives are used
to driving to see their doctors." He decided not to
blame them too much to her. "Look at how we're
going. Half the day was worse." Now to get back to
her latest grudge -- luckily this one wasn't
against him. "And which bastard was this?"
"Walther. Economic History. I'm going to blow him a
load of hot air and take the lowered grade. C is
good enough for Economic History." That sounded
dangerous. What happened to a PhD candidate who
failed a course?
"Don't cut off your nose to spite your face."
"I'm not, although I'd love to turn in a bomb
disguised as a paper. Prioritize. Bastard isn't
even in the department. He definitely won't be on
the dissertation committee. Look, grammatical,
well-typed, proper citations properly used -- he
can't give it an F. And, with my test scores, a D
paper will average out to a C in the course, maybe
even a B depending how I do on the final and how he
weights it." Well, she was thinking now.
"I don't know anything about your situation. I'm
only reacting to your temper. Just don't let your
anger with him do you damage."
"I'd think you'd be glad to see my temper aimed at
someone else."
"Yeah. But I don't want it to harm you."
Even without the spice of an argument beforehand,
their lovemaking was delightful.
She packed sandwiches that they ate in the car
after her class. Then they took the EL down to
Carson's. They got loads of stuff, including the
electric blanket. She took the aprons with her, but
they had the rest delivered.
Back at the apartment, he did the laundry,
including taking his shirts to the cleaner, while
she did her studying. It was mostly his laundry, as
she'd taken most of hers back to her dorm. That
seemed wasteful to him. When he'd got the clothes
put away, he dawdled in the bedroom for a few
minutes. Carolyn was typing, and looked annoyed
when he watched her. It was close enough to dinner
time that he went out again and got some Chinese
take-out.
"When's a good time to break for dinner?" he asked.
"I can break now."
"Leave that end. We can eat on this end." Indeed,
it was a good excuse for closeness. She did a
little neatening of her stuff, but did not object
to how close their chairs were placed.
If the food he provided wasn't as delicious as the
meals she had cooked, that didn't diminish her
appetite. She ate her share and went back to work.
He washed up. Done before she was, he sat watching
her. That didn't last long. She took her papers
into the living room.
He went into the bedroom. He lay on top of her side
of the bed and read for a while. Then he just lay
there and thought about Carolyn and marriage. The
sleeping together part looked great. Being ignored,
indeed rejected, when she was studying didn't. On
the other hand, he went away to work; if this was
going to be her work area, she needed to have some
freedom in it. A larger apartment looked more and
more necessary.
"I'm keeping your place warm," he said when she
finally came in.
"Thanks, but you might move into the center." She
got her stuff together. "Can I borrow your robe?" A
strange request, but she was welcome to it. He got
ready for bed in the room -- necessarily leaving
his contacts in -- while she was in the bath. He
got back in the middle of the bed and covered up.
"Could you move down 'til your feet are just at the
edge of the bed?" she asked after she returned
wearing his robe. Well, she had something in mind,
and it was almost certainly something sexual. He
followed directions.
"It's time to put your contraceptive on," she
continued.
"But..." He could do many things for her, but not
delay orgasm more than a minute -- if that. On the
other hand, she was running this. If it left her
frustrated, he could deal with that later. She
reached over to hold his dick, and he rolled the
rubber on.
It started to be clear that she intended to be on
top. She moved over him and wriggled around to get
the right position. When she pulled the covers over
her shoulders, she seemed unsatisfied with the
result, and justifiably so.
"Could you help get these over me?" she asked.
Fine. His hands were free, and the task was in
front of him. When he adjusted the covers on her
shoulders, she opened her robe -- actually, his
robe. His view of her melons was delightful, and it
soon got better. She leaned over until one tip was
just above his mouth. When he kissed it, she leaned
forwards a bit to allow him to relax his head on
the pillow without losing contact. She shifted back
and forth to give him access to both.
"Can I use my hands?" He was perfectly willing to
play by her rules. If her rules involved kissing
her melons, he'd play all night. But it would be
nice to know what her rules were.
"Sure." So, he started on the smoothness of the
melons. She was only offering him the tips. Then he
stroked down to more critical ground. Soon he had
her smooth thigh in one hand while the other
explored her groove. She let him enjoy himself for
a long time before pushing his hands away.
"Keep the covers over me." She said. While he did,
she got into position to get more serious. Opening
herself with one hand, and inserting his dick with
the other, she smoothly impaled herself. He watched
her snatch enclose his dick, then reached back up
to pull the covers tighter around her.
"Support them," she said while pulling his hands to
her melons. That was a weight he'd carry for her as
long as she wanted under any circumstance. Her
moving up and down his cock encouraged hem yet
more. He held a melon in each hand, stroked the
peaks with his fingers, and gloried in the
sensations of his dick being rubbed and surrounded
by her snatch.
When she went over, she took him with her. Before
he was finished, though, she'd fallen forward
against his chest. The feel of her on him
compensated for the lack of anything around the
rubber as he poured into it. He hugged her and
moved his mouth close to her ear.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Are you?" He was better than all right. He
had an armful of Carolyn after having watched her
go over -- and watched her while her face and
entire upper body were in focus, for once.
"I'm great."
"Should I move?" No, she shouldn't. He planned to
spend a few years of his future like this. But,
maybe that idea would be less attractive to her.
"Not for me. Are you okay? If you want to go to
sleep like this, I'm willing." Although, really,
he'd have to go to the bathroom in the next two
hours. He didn't have to worry. She got up and went
back to the bathroom. When she got back, he took
his own bathroom time.
"Sorry," she said when he came back. "I didn't need
to keep your robe. I figured it was warmer for
that." Well, she might be bothered by his
nakedness, but he wasn't. She, on the other hand,
was wearing her nightgown in bed.
"For what you did, no apologies are necessary....
Have any more positions we haven't tried yet?"
"No. I just thought that we'd complained of a
narrow bed, but we hadn't used the vertical
dimension enough. I wanted to do it while we still
had the bed."
"I don't want to discourage you," he said while
doing the last chores, "but it will be days before
they deliver the bed."
"Thing is," she said when he was in bed and she'd
snuggled back against him, "I'm about to start my
period."
"Well, that's probably not the position to try
during your period. Still, I'd get most of the
outflow, and I'd consider an extra shower a low
price to pay for another of those." Then the penny
dropped. "That's why you're wearing your
nightgown?"
"Yeah."
"So what are the rules?" She always had rules.
Above the waist? Through the cloth only?
"Well, I figure that we go to church together and
you drive me back to the residence hall. I'll spend
the next several days there. I'll be in touch. I
really have lots of studying to do." Those were
extreme rules. Hadn't they just proven that she
could study here?
"Look, that we can't have sex is reasonable, if not
pleasant. That I can't see you is unreasonable."
But she didn't seem to be in the mood to negotiate.
"Well, as I said, I'll be in touch. Don't make me
dread those calls." If he didn't like her rules,
she could make it worse.
"Can I touch you now?"
"Above the waist and through the nightgown." So, he
held her melon through the nightgown.
"You came didn't you?" she asked suddenly. She must
be feeling his dick against her buns. Would she
rule that this wasn't above the waist?
"Yeah. Explosively. It's just that this is a sexy
position." She didn't have any more complaints, and
they were soon asleep.
In the morning, he cooked breakfast. They had lots
of time. He tried to schedule when they could meet
over the next week, but she was having none of
that. She studied until it was time to drive her to
church. The choir needed to get there a bit
earlier, and he met that schedule. During the
service, Lily Bell brought Beatrice over to him. He
had heard her fussing earlier.
"I give up, Bill. She's teething." Well, it was
about time, although he'd do better if he and the
baby had known each other earlier. He dropped his
suit coat in the pew while he rose. Then he took
Beatrice back behind the wall. She wasn't happy
being carried, which was ridiculous; she was much
too young to walk. He tried the Ferris-wheel game,
lifting her up high and back down slowly. Three
times with that, and he brought her back into his
arms. She was happy enough with the game, but
fussed as soon as she was sitting on his arm. He
finally spent the sermon time pacing across the
back lifting and lowering her the entire time.
Somehow, Beatrice reminded him of Carolyn. Neither
wanted to be in his arms, and both were troubled by
internal problems that weren't his fault. He gave
her back to Lily as soon as the service was over.
He retrieved his suit coat, put on his outerwear,
and met Carolyn when the choir came back upstairs
from the robing room. They got in the car and
shared a kiss. Then she told her news -- except it
wasn't really news to him.
"The choir saw a baby bobbing up and down over that
wall in back. What's its name?"
"Beatrice. She's as bad as you are. Sheesh! One's
teething and one's bleeding, and neither one wants
to be held."
"No! The wall." How was he supposed to know that?
He had a few more years in the church than she had,
but the wall had been around longer than he had,
probably longer than he had been alive. Jake had
called it something, but that wasn't the sort of
thing he tried to remember.
"It has a Latinate ecclesiastical name -- one I've
heard and forgotten."
"And Beatrice has a last name?" That's right. She
didn't pay attention to babies like he did.
"Bell."
"So Ray and Lily gave you what you wanted?" That
was one way of putting it. Ray and Lily had taken
up his offer when Beatrice was much less pleasant
company than she would have been when the offer had
been made.
"Sort of. The Ferris wheel game tired me, though."
"Ferris wheel?" Well, she couldn't be expected to
know his names for the games.
"You get a good grip on the kid -- usually under
the shoulders. You raise it up high close to you
and let it down further away. At the best of times,
the path is a fairly narrow oval. You do three or
four cycles, and then you hold it mostly sitting on
one arm for a while. Except Beatrice didn't want to
sit on one arm; Beatrice wanted to go up again. It
very soon looked less like a Ferris wheel than like
an elevator. Even so, it was exhausting." If
Carolyn didn't express any sympathy, she didn't
razz him. She even gave him a nice kiss when she
got out of the car at her dorm, but she got out. He
ate a large. but not particularly fancy, Sunday
dinner before going home.
Sunday afternoon was not the best time for watching
TV. Monday evening was better, but he'd have traded
the entire evening for an hour watching Carolyn
study. Somehow, despite her promise to call,
despite all that they were going through preparing
for the wedding, he felt that she was reconsidering
the whole thing.
Tuesday afternoon, Denise buzzed him.
"A Carolyn Nolan is on the phone." He couldn't
remember ever turning down a phone call, but his
position meant that he always got the opportunity.
This one, he wasn't going to turn down.
"Put her through."
"Yes, Miss Nolan," he said when she was on the
line. She didn't play the business-call game
though.
"Come straight home, tonight. I'll leave you some
food. And eat that apple!"
"I was scared to. Wouldn't it prevent you from
getting your doctorate?" Didn't an apple a day keep
the doctorate away?
"Nope. Goodbye." Well, that was short and sweet, or
-- at least -- short. On the other hand, she wasn't
reconsidering the wedding. She, for that matter,
sounded as if they were already married -- ordering
him around as to diet. He knew, from the couples
he'd seen interacting, that this would get damn
annoying in time. Right now, it felt reassuring.
She'd ben there, which the call had implied. Her
bookcase was plastic, and looked flimsy to him. The
food was a meatloaf with directions for cooking it.
He followed the directions, left the apple for
dessert, and hauled out the last of the Chinese-
restaurant rice to go with it. He'd eaten up the
rice Carolyn had cooked. It was both older and
tastier. When the meatloaf was done, he a slice
over some rice and added catsup. The meatloaf was
tasty enough, however. He left the catsup alone for
the rest of the meal. He topped it off with the
last apple. Apparently, she'd had one herself.
He watched one TV program and drank one beer.
Neither really satisfied. He decided to call her --
he had something to report, after all. After the
usual intermediaries, she came on the phone.
"Carolyn Nolan speaking."
"Carolyn! How good to hear your voice. Have I ever
complimented you on your telephone technique? The
meat loaf was delicious. And I ate the apple."
"Did you have any more of the lettuce?"
"Um." Well, she hadn't said to.
"I'm glad you eat out so much. Restaurants will, at
least, serve you veggies and salad."
"Anyway, I saw the bookcase. Plastic?"
"If you load it evenly," she replied, "it works
fine."
"And you brought it all the way here?"
"Pick it up. It's not that heavy."
"Well, the books will be. I'll move them."
He ate out Wednesday night, but had some more of
the meatloaf -- with lettuce, since she was so
insistent -- for dinner Thursday. Then he called
Carolyn again.
"Carolyn Nolan speaking."
"Bill Pierce here. Why don't you pack some books to
move? I'll pick you up, drive you to choir
practice, get upstairs any books you bring along,
and drive you back." After a minute, she agreed.
With the books in the trunk, they had a kiss before
he started the car. Then he had his chance at
getting some things straight.
"Look..."
"No," she said immediately. "You look. I'm grateful
for the help, but I'm not up for an argument before
I'm obliged to have a relaxed tone." Well, that
ended his chance before it started. One thing,
though, had to be confirmed.
"Very well, but do I have you for Saturday?"
"After lunch on Saturday." Why she was insistent on
eating lunch at the dorm, he couldn't figure. She
still hadn't tasted the meatloaf. When he picked
her up after choir practice, she found him useful,
if not conversation-worthy.
"I'll bring down another load of books, if you
want," she said.
"Fine, I just stacked those up."
"Quite the best way. I'll have to arrange them."
But, this time, she was accompanied by her
roommates, each with a load of books. They were
nice girls, eager to see their friend's fiance. He
tried to seem worthy of marrying Carolyn. When he
had the books upstairs, more of the books in the
apartment were hers than his.
Saturday, he dressed casually and drove to pick her
up in front of the building in which she had
classes.
"I'm going back to the residence hall for lunch,"
was her cool greeting.
"Fine. I'll drive you. What time should I pick you
up?"
"The appointment is at three."
"Don't you think we should talk first?"
"One thirty?"
"1:30 it is." They had an hour and a half to settle
any differences they might have about their
marriage. When he got to the dorm at 1:26, he found
that they had even less time. Carolyn's roommates
were waiting with more books. It was 1:34 before
they were on their way.
"You've made three conquests," she said when they
were finally rolling towards the apartment.
"They merely want to meet your fiance. They
wouldn't have given me a glance it you hadn't been
wearing that ring. So what do we tell Jake?"
"That we aren't planning for the ideal married
couple. We're planning for what's best for Bill and
Carolyn. If you were planning on a great start for
a marriage, you wouldn't start with Bill and
Carolyn. But, when you start with Bill and Carolyn,
marriage looks like the best option." Well, she had
thought about this much.
"Doesn't sound like you're exactly starry-eyed," he
commented.
"Look," she said, "don't get me started."
"You never finished your list of my faults."
"Every time I start to set them down in order, I
discover a new one for the top of the list. Well,
anyway, the next time we fight we'll qualify for
marriage counseling." She had a point.
"Is that a promise?... Well, children? Sometime,
but when you're more settled in a career."
"One child when I'm settled in a career. Whether
we'll have more depends both on our experience with
that child and on the career." Well, that was fair,
and -- after all -- he wasn't going into this
marriage to get children.
"Okay. And we'll live on a balanced budget as soon
as you have any real teaching job."
"You're not counting teaching assistant as real?"
She sounded defensive.
"Not as far as salary is concerned. I'm sure the
work is real, but, after all, it's not like you
were lazing around now." She nodded. They off-
loaded the books at the apartment. She took one
load up, but let him get the other loads while she
arranged the ones that were there. They had too
many to fit in that bookcase. When they drove to
the church, Jake was waiting for them.
"Well," he asked, "have you thought about things?"
"Thought about plenty," Carolyn answered. "Got
decisions on fewer. Y'know, you tell us that sex is
a bad foundation for a marriage. Well, we aren't
looking for the ideal couple to form a married
pair. We're looking at 'What should we do with Bill
and Carolyn?' Take my own case, for instance. If
marriage to Bill based mostly on sex is risky, how
risky would it be to marry John Doe when I'm much
more strongly attracted to Bill, sexually?" She got
to the point, and drilled it in.
"Well, millions of married women think Clark Gable
is the sexiest man in the country." Jake was
dealing with her, for now.
"Yeah. And they have absolutely no access to Clark
Gable, and they see him up on the silver screen and
get their sexual charge. Then they go home and work
it off with their lawful husband. It's a little
different when you're talking about a man who you
see every day." As if she saw him every day, but
that -- at least -- would change. Well, it seemed
to be his turn.
"And, on the issue of planning for Bill and
Carolyn, that covers chores as well. I'm sure that
Dan has some things he does and Gladys has some
things she does. What our planning for chores is
that Carolyn will do them in her slack periods and
I'll do them in her crush periods. That will take
re-planning when she gets her degree, but it
doesn't make sense to plan for that time in the
abstract. When I can't handle the chores -- I'm
thinking of cooking dinner -- then I'm in charge of
getting take-out."
"Well," Jake said, "I'm more interested in whether
you've thought things through than what your
answers are. And it sounds like you've thought
things through." He'd made it sound, indeed, like a
lot more planning than what they'd actually done.
"Budget?"
"That's not complete. I know that everybody says
that they'll have more in the sweet bye and bye.
But we will owe tuition next year, next academic
year, and we'll have a second salary a year or two
after that. We're agreed on hanging tough until she
gets a teaching job."
"And children?" Well, for once, they'd actually
discussed that, if it had been more Carolyn's
decision than their's. On the other hand, she'd be
the one carrying the child.
"That's also dependent on her schedule. One child
when she's settled enough to get maternity leave."
"Yeah," Carolyn said when Jake looked her way. "We
figure that any plans for a second child need to be
made after we learn what living with a child is
like. Also, of course, there is a question as to
how much maternity leave the unknown employer will
be happy about giving me at an unknown time."
They got through Jake's other questions, partly by
saying that everything beyond Carolyn's time of
getting her degree would have to be decided when
they saw what her situation was then.
"And we have one," he said when Jake had asked his
last question. "We know you won't perform the
service without a license, and that is in process.
We both have a nightmare of getting to the church
in front of all those guests and then you stop the
service because something is missing."
"The nightmare is understandable," Jake answered
with a laugh, "but not based on reality. I'd
perform the service for you dressed as you are
now."
"Not if my mother has a thing to say about it," she
put in. "She wants the whole nine yards."
"Fine. I was going to say I wouldn't perform the
service with either of you naked or something like
that. Really, I've known ministers who performed a
wedding service in a hospital where one of the
party was scheduled for desperate surgery. If you
want an elaborate service, we'll want payment for
the church, for myself, and for Miss Armbruster.
You need her permission for another organist."
"That's no problem," Carolyn assured Jake. "My
mother isn't going to import an organist I don't
know."
"And," he said, "although her parents are planning
to pay for the wedding, I'm good for any
deficiency. I don't think here will be one, but
mistakes happen."
"And I don't stop the service to ask for my check.
Do you want to have the reception in the fellowship
area?" They were now off planning the marriage to
planning the wedding.
"I'll ask Mama," Carolyn said, "but I'd bet against
it. You don't allow Champagne in the church."
"Nor betting. Do you want to invite the entire
congregation?"
"Sure," she said. "Probably some will get written
invitations and some won't. But this is our church
home, whatever Mama thinks, and we're not planning
to shut anyone out of their home. Closer to the
time, we'll say so -- or you can -- in church."
"Want to finish stacking the bookcase now?" he
asked. Carolyn didn't respond, and he went on to
another issue. "Look, tomorrow is coffee hour. Sure
Jake can issue the invitation in service closer to
the time. Do you want me to -- would you object if
I -- issued a general invitation then?"
"Go ahead." Then, after a long pause, "What would
going back to the apartment mean?"
"You'd get to set the rules, but I can look at
you." She was always sexy, but she'd be sexier
moving around to get books and arrange them.
"Okay. Let's go by the residence hall. I don't have
the right books." She took a longer time than he
was used to, but she came down carrying stuff.
"Maybe," he suggested when they were together in
the car, "you'll call your mother during a break in
the library work. We need to know precisely what
she expects from us. I don't want off the top of
her head on the phone, but can she write us. I have
visions of her showing up Saturday morning asking
'Who is the photographer?' Y'know I said I would
follow your decisions as to the wedding, but I do
need a portrait-style photo of you for my desk."
"Yeah," she responded. "You talk about
accommodating me all the time, but I think you'll
be expecting me to accommodate you."
"Maybe so. After all, I'm not talking about
accommodating you so much as accommodating your
profession. And there are accommodations you'll
have to make to my profession. You'll have to
entertain, some times, and when entertaining,
you'll have to play a role. Everybody does. Don't
tell me academics don't." She didn't rise to that
challenge.
"So, I'm to be the contented hausfrau?" That wasn't
quite what he meant.
"No. I won't expect you to lie. But you'll serve
something closer to the lamb chops than to the
sloppy joes. And, while you won't tell them that
Richard Nixon was the best president since Herbert
Hoover, you won't argue when they say that,
either." And, before starting on the books instead
of on a break, she called her mother and made the
request. Then he got to see her bend and flex and
move. Those French artists who painted dancers
changing clothes had known what made a woman
sexiest.
"Study time, now," she said when the books were
arranged as well as she could with only one and a
fraction bookcases. That meant that he would have
to stop watching, but it also meant that she was
staying in the apartment for the night.
"All right, but let me brush your hair before you
come to bed." When she didn't say him no, he did
his bed preparations and went into the bedroom. He
turned on the heater and lay down under the sheet
on her side of the bed. He played over her
flexings, imagining them without the interference
of clothes, until he fell asleep. She came in
wearing a nightgown, but was happy to have him
brush her lovely locks. With the heater off and the
electric blanket turned on for her side only, they
fell asleep.
After taking Carolyn to church for the choir
robing, he went to the narthex. Dan was there,
Sylvia being in the choir, too. They got the doors
open and stood holding bulletins until the official
greeters would get there. Mostly, they talked.
"Y'know, Dan," he said, "this is going to be a
formal wedding. I'd like you to be my best man.
They're going to put me in a monkey suit, but I
think the best man simply wears a suit."
"Well, I'm a professor. I have suits."
"Yeah, you're a professor, but *one* of your suits
must be presentable."
"Seriously, though, Bill... There is more to
marriage than sex." Sure, but how to answer this?
"I've seen fewer fights than you guys have had lead
to divorce." Well, not fewer. He'd only witnessed
one of their fights -- it had lasted more than a
year, though.
"Well, one of the privileges of marriage is that
your fights don't have to be public.... Anyway...
Look, there is more to being a professor than
standing in front of the class -- you've told me
some of them. But, if you want to stand in front of
a class, you have to go through the rest."
"And if you want to have sex with Carolyn, you have
to marry her? Sounds quite traditional, and doesn't
explain why you drove her here."
"If I want to have sex with Carolyn next year --
not '74, starting in June -- it means marriage.
Anyway, do your doubts mean that you don't want to
be part of the wedding party?"
"No, I'll stand up with you."
"Thanks." And then the official greeter, Ingrid,
came out and they took their pews. After service
was coffee hour. He got up and made his
announcement.
"Most of you know that Carolyn and I are getting
married. The date is February 17th, in the
afternoon. Every one within sound of my voice is
invited." Carolyn topped him.
"I'd like to notify parents of small children that,
although they are certainly included in the
invitation, the Bill Pierce baby-sitting service
will not be available. He'll be otherwise
occupied." One of the students topped her.
"Mommy, what is that strange woman doing up there
with *my* Bill?" The voice was supposed to be that
of a kid. So, everyone got the news, and they got
some entertainment out of it, too.
As previously arranged, he drove Carolyn back to
her dorm.
"And when," he asked, "will I see you again?"
"How about nine o'clock tomorrow. Call before,
okay? And finish up the salad." The kiss on parting
was as passionate as decency permitted in public.
He drove off frustrated but certain of the
engagement. He went from her dorm to a restaurant
for Sunday dinner. He hadn't been back in the
apartment for half an hour when Dan called.
"Look, Carolyn asked Sylvia to be her matron of
honor. You guys didn't cook this up between you,
did you?"
"No.... But, when you think about it, it makes
sense. Carolyn has friends, and I have friends. We
don't have many friends in common. You two are
certainly on the top of the list. Anyway, I'm
grateful to both of you." And the conversation
ended on a friendly note. He had thirty hours to go
without Carolyn, but half of that would be office
and sleep. He went to the kitchen to finish up the
salad before he forgot.
The end
Good Advice - M
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/02/10
These same events from Carolyn's perspective, can
be read in:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_03f.h
tm
Carolyn's experience
The first adventures of Bill with Carolyn:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_01m.h
tm
"Get a Room - M"
Another story about another couple preparing for
marriage:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/bla_02m.htm
"Prelude - M"
The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm
<1st attachment begin>
<HTML removed pursuant to http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy>
<1st attachment end>
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format. The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+