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Message-ID: <62310asstr$1346803801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Married State - M" -- Uther -- MF wl preg
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Date: Tue, 04 Sep 2012 20:10:01 -0400
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If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read
electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else.

This material is copyright, 2012, 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.


Marrie State - M
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF wl preg


Eric Stewart was part of the prosecuting team in Judge O'Brien's courtroom
Monday Jan, 14, 1980. First Jack stood up in front, conducting the
prosecution, and he talked to the people involved in the next cases. Then
he went up and dealt with the next case while his partner went back into
the space for those watching. A judge of a major felony trial would never
let people hold conversations back there, but traffic court went faster and
less formally. Anyway, Judge O'Brien called it quits not long after 3:00.
Eric went back to the office.

He stopped by Miss Murphy's office. She was still on trial, but the officer
there would call him when she got in. In the minutes between when he got
the call and when he got there, Murphy had begun a  conference with
somebody else, but he waited.

"Remember the Candy Wharton rape at Circle which you decided wouldn't get a
true bill?" he asked when she had her office cleared. He shut the door
behind him.

"Yeah. Is there more?"

"Well, since that's not going to public trial, information that came from
it is a legal confidence."

"I suppose."

"Normally, confidential information in the office is only confidential in
terms of not going out of the office. It would be unforgivable if the
coworkers of a complaining witness's husband  heard details that had never
been presented in court."

"Do you have something you want to say? Or are you just here because nobody
else will listen to your platitudes? I have serious crimes to prosecute."
Reminding him that she didn't consider the traffic offenses he prosecuted
as serious.

"Well, it's like this. I'm going to marry Candy. And it would embarrass me
if the details she told you got around the office. I'm sure that you'd find
it more important that it would embarrass her -- a victim who came forward
to be a complaining witness."

"And why didn't I hear about this earlier?"

"Well, I met her maybe 2 days before you did. The proposal, much less the
acceptance, wasn't until long after you had decided to nol pros. Anyway,
can you keep it in your section?"

"Sure. I'll get the files and put them in my private drawer.
Congratulations, I think."

"Thanks."

By the time he got back to his office and into his outer clothes, it was
past 5:00. When he got downstairs, Candy was waiting. She was watching the
other elevators, and he walked up behind her before speaking.

"Candy." He took her hand; when she turned, he took her other hand. He
wanted to kiss her, but she didn't look receptive. "You in the mood for
walking? The car is half-way to Carson's and parking down there is a pain
in the ass."

"Sure."

He led her through the underground maze. In this weather, there were
probably more people down there than on the sidewalks above. The tunnels
didn't go as far south as Carson's, though, and they finally had to go back
up to street level.

"I didn't know those were down there," she said. Of course.

"There are Chicagoans, and then there are Loop dwellers." Every
neighborhood has its secrets, even the neighborhood everybody else visits.
"I don't think anybody designed that system. The individual buildings each
do what they find convenient."

They, and those around them, hurried through the slush. He stopped her when
they were a little inside Carson's -- far enough in to get warm and out of
the way of entering and leaving crowds.

"Look, there is a general decision before we get to the specific decision.
When we move to a new, larger place, are you going to want to redo the
bedroom? Or are you content with what I have now?" That was going to be
*her* home, and -- really -- decor was more of a woman's thing. Especially
if she was going to be a stay-at-home homemaker, she was going to want to
be in charge of how the place looked. That would be fine, but he didn't
want to buy loads more furniture and *then* have her redo everything.
"More, of course, as well as a larger bed, but starting from what I have
now." He didn't get a reply. He didn't seem to have made himself clear.
"The reason I'm asking is that we either get something which will go with
what I've got or you start your decorating now. You buy a bed which will be
the first piece of the new decor." He fumbled out the pictures he'd taken.
"In case you don't remember, I brought some Polaroids to show you what the
room looks like now." He was leading the witness.

"That's fine. Let's get something to go along with these." Which might mean
that she liked the look now. It didn't mean that she wouldn't have new
ideas later. That was fine. He was springing it on her too fast. Mom had
taken 2 years for the planning the last time she had redecorated.

She kept the pictures, though, and consulted them when they were looking at
beds. She picked something which would fit.

"Look, can you sleep on a firm mattress?" He'd had sex on an extra-soft
one, and it had taken something away from the experience.

They ordered the bed and the mattress set. Those would be delivered in a
week. Well, he could arrange for somebody to be there if Candy couldn't,
but he'd ask later. He had a Carson's charge. They left and walked together
to his car.

Should they eat in the Loop? Candy looked gorgeous, as she always did. She
was not dressed, however, for a fancy Loop restaurant, and she had already
raised that issue. Well, she had enjoyed the Pho place, and it wasn't much
out of their way. The Argyle exit from the Outer Drive was only a couple
north of the Belmont exit. When they were waiting at the light to get on
the Drive, he decided to suggest it.

"I thought we'd go back to the Pho place." A long silence -- assent,
dissent, unclarity? "The Vietnamese soup place."

"That sounds fine. Have you really run out of restaurants?" That was better.

"Well, not in Evanston, and we really haven't done the Loop yet. There are
two Loop eating experiences, lunch and dinner, though both kinds of places
are mostly open for both meals." Should he have suggested a Loop
McDonald's? She was a college student, probably used to eating supper at
McDonald's. "In the rest of Chicago, I only know a few, and most of those
aren't on our way. Chinatown, for instance. But this place makes for a
reasonably short detour from the direct way to your home. Besides, I
thought you liked it. You finished your bowl of soup." He could never
figure out whether she didn't eat much because she didn't like his
selection, because she was trying to lose weight, because she was trying to
act ladylike, or why. If she didn't like his selection, she should say so.
Well, they would be married soon, and he could ask her where she wanted to
eat.

"I did like it. It was fine." Now, she sounded as if she wanted it.

"The other thing, is that they are going to deliver the bed in a week. Do
you think you could be there? Don't lift anything, but see if they'll set
the bed up. If they won't, I will." She was pregnant, damn it! Pregnant
women shouldn't strain themselves.

"Sure." She didn't *sound* sure.

"Okay. Stupidly, I didn't have keys made." There were so many things to
remember. "I'll give them to you Wednesday. By the way, do you have a
driver's license?" Hell! She might have her own car. No, she had come to
church, to Carolyn's too, by bus. It was nothing like a direct route.

"Sure." This time her usual unemphatic affirmative made sense. Of course a
19-year-old girl would have a license. "How is that 'by the way'?" Well, it
was only two things *he* should do that he was putting together. The family
house and the family car were two very different parts of her life.

"I'll have another set of car keys made at the same time. Your moving into
my apartment is the only practical way we can do this, but I'm bound to
treat it as if I'm the only one there." He was a creature of habit, and so
many of his habits were going to be inappropriate. "That's not selfishness;
it's stupidity. Tell me when I'm doing that, okay?"

"Sure." Well, he'd asked.

Again, she finished her bowl of pho. He wondered if there were any
Vietnamese restaurants in Evanston. Well, if there weren't, this wasn't all
that far to drive.

Parking in her neighborhood, never good, looked impossible that night. He
stopped the car in the street in front of her door. They had a kiss, but he
stayed in the car while she got out.

When he got home that night, he called his family.

"You got my letter?"

"Yeah," Mom answered. "When are you going to send a photo? We don't know
what your fiancee looks like."

"Well, she's beautiful. You'll see soon enough. The wedding is February
2nd. That's a Saturday. Do you think you and Dad can come?"

"You couldn't keep us away."

"And Rachel?"

"Honestly, Eric, you should ask her yourself."

"But you'd have car room for her and Stan?"

"Sure. We always have car room for Stan. I'm not sure he'd enjoy the trip,
though. It's one hell of a long ride for a 12-year-old."

"And weddings don't mean much at that age."

"Too true. Well, do you think you're going to provide us with another
grandkid to spoil?" So much for keeping Candy's secret. Well, if Mom got a
bay to cuddle, she would forgive the lie.

"What will be, will be. You aren't going to get another grandkid in Moline,
though, not from me."

"Well, Rachel isn't telling us about any prospects, but you didn't tell us
anything either."

"Sorry about that."

"Aren't you moving a little fast?"

"Well, that's a change. You used to complain that I was moving too slowly.
I'll admit that it's a short engagement, but I never saw the use of
engagements, really. Either you're going to get married or you're not."

"Yeah, but you don't have to plan the wedding."

"It's going to be very simple."

"And your bride is happy with that?"

"Her idea."

Rachel was happy for him.

"Well, Little Brother, it's about time."

"I took my time, but I got a winner. You should see her."

"Oh, I plan to. But don't grind it in." Rachel hadn't taken her time. She'd
married while still in college. And Tom had been a loser.

"I didn't mean anything like that. I was comparing it to the girls I'd
dated previously. You knew some of them. Anyway, you and Stan are invited."

"Yeah. I'll make it. Stan, I don't know. It's a long drive, and I'm not
sure I want to explain why Uncle Eric doesn't have enough time for him."

"There is that."

Wednesday had the worst weather of the month. He was doubtful about making
it from Candy's house to Evanston in 45 minutes. (On a good day, it
wouldn't take more than 20.) He called her to see if they could start
earlier.

"Look, can I pick you up earlier? I want to be sure about getting to the
church before 6:45."

"Sure."

"Expect me about 5:45, but I'm not guaranteeing that, either. Dress for
sloshing through snow, but don't get your coat and stuff on until I get
there." Court closed late, though. Rather than go back to the office, he
went directly to his car. Driving was slow, but he got to her door in
plenty of time. He stopped in the street in front of her door and ran up to
ring her bell. She answered it, dressed -- as he had suggested -- for
inside.

"I'm going back to the car. If anyone comes along, I'll drive around the
block. If I'm not there, don't come out until you see me."

"Sure."

And when he got back, she was coming out of her door. The guy behind him
was patient while she got in, but he started before she got her seat belt
fastened. At the speeds they were going, not even a front-end collision
would be dangerous.

He got to the church nearly on time. Rev. Lawrence must have seen them from
some window in better heat, because he opened the door a minute after they
arrived. He sent Candy in and went to park the car. He was wearing rubbers
over his shoes, and the snow was deep enough on some of the unshoveled
sidewalk to get to his socks.

When he got there, Rev. Lawrence opened the door for him and led him back
to his office. It seemed up to him to get the discussion going.

"Well, the two of us want to get married."

"I thought that might be it. Candy was sporting an engagement ring. Let me
get some objective data first."

Candy had been born September 15, 1960. Neither of them had been married
before, etc. etc. etc. How much of this was necessary, as opposed to how
much was to get them used to answering the questions, Eric didn't know.
He'd started interviews like that, too.

"Well, how long have you known each other?"

"Since early November," Candy said. Good, she was going to carry her share
of the conversation.

"That was a Wednesday, too," he pointed out. "It must be precisely ten
weeks."

"Don't you think you're being a bit precipitous?" Well, yes, but they had
their reasons. It was Candy's choice, though, whether they'd tell their
reasons. "And how did you meet?" Ouch! That was getting too close.

"We were both guests of Carolyn," he said. He'd been Carolyn's guest, or
Carolyn and Bill's guest, loads of times. Candy was Carolyn's student, and
he had no idea how many students she had entertained. He doubted whether
the preacher had any idea, either.

Candy, instead of letting him carry the ball, started asking about
confidentiality. There, they were on absolutely safe grounds. The state and
the county had a fairly Catholic government making the rules and a good
many Catholic judges administering them. 'Sanctity of the confessional' was
ingrained in those guys.

Lawrence reassured her, and said that if there were anything that he
wouldn't know was secret that they should warn him. Well, their secret
wasn't anything he'd have doubts about.

"Okay. This is what happened," Candy said. "I was raped. I went to Prof.
Pierce. She said I should report it. Finally, she said that she knew a
prosecutor I could report it to. I and that prosecutor, Eric, met in her
house. After the twins were asleep and Mr. Pierce had gone to a meeting, I
told him the story. He got me to tell it to a woman who heads rape
prosecutions at his office. They decided that they couldn't prosecute.
Meanwhile, I discovered that I was pregnant. It had to be from the rape. I
told Eric."

"I had a nice, year-long plan for courting her," he said. "When I heard
that she was pregnant, I saw that this year-long courtship wasn't what she
needed. I proposed immediately. She took a while, but she accepted.

"By the way, in terms of confidences you might not know are confidences,"
he continued, "that we've only known each other for 10 weeks is one. This
is going to be my child. That it was conceived before we got married will
be plain to everybody. That it was conceived before we even met is
something I want known to as few people as possible."

"Certainly. Might I ask, are you planning to have this wedding simply to
give the baby your name and then end it?" Hell no! He wanted the marriage.
The name was only something he could offer her.

"No. The timing is because of the baby. The marriage will be until death do
us part."

"Until death do us part," Candy said when Rev. Lawrence turned towards her.
That was great to hear.

That seemed to be the last real question Rev. Lawrence had that might be a
roadblock. The rest of the questions were more pre-marital counseling. They
needed that, Eric supposed. At least, these were questions they hadn't
asked each other. They didn't have to share the answers with Lawrence
later, though. They just had to deal with each other on that.

He had always expected to hold the reception in the parlors, and Candy
agreed to that. If it was her support group, they should be there. He was
strongly in favor of it because these were people who saw Candy almost
exclusively in relation to him. He told Lawrence that he would cover
anything that Candy's parents didn't. It was quite unlikely that they would
balk, but they hadn't seemed all that happy.

"One last thing, and I'll let you go," Lawrence said. Well, there was
something he'd like to raise, too. "We've changed the wording, changed it
long ago. It's not 'Til death us do part.' It's now 'As long as we both
shall live.' Don't worry about it. The words are my responsibility, and you
both are clear what they mean, which is the important thing."

He might as well raise this now. "Another question entirely. As long as we
have you here and you know the background, Candy hasn't been taking
communion."

"Yes, I've noticed that. We have an open communion. I try to say that. You
don't have to belong here. You don't have to belong anywhere. As long as
you have been baptized and believe in Christ, you are welcome at our table,
really at His table."

"I just feel so dirty," Candy said.

"Because of the rape?"

"Yes."

"Well that isn't a theologically valid reason. My usual line is that
communion is a medicine for sin; it isn't a feast for the sinless. That
doesn't really apply to your case, because what makes you hesitate isn't
your own sin. It's more what Jesus said, 'It isn't what goes into a man,'
(or, I might add, a woman) 'but what comes out of a man which makes him
unclean.' Anyway, you are welcome whenever we have communion. You are not
required."

"And, now," he asked when they were out of the church and driving away,
"where do we eat? Have any old favorites? any new suggestions?" He was
still bothered by the idea that she was eating lightly because she didn't
like his choices of restaurant.

"Well, why don't we get take-out and eat at your place again. We have
things to settle." That sounded good except...

"I didn't clean up."

"Considering that I'll be cleaning up after you in less than a month, I
don't think that will be too much of a shock." She was right. He wasn't
that bad a slob.

"Thai again? Pizza?"

"Pizza sounds good." So maybe his selections hadn't been to her taste. They
got a pizza -- he was careful to ask her choice of toppings -- and took it
back to the apartment. They had a kiss as soon as they were out of their
coats, and then he began to set up.

"Where do we begin?" he asked.

"I begin before you do," she answered. "Do you have that directory? I need
to call Joan and Claire." He got her the directory. She went into the
living room to call, and he stayed in the kitchen to get their meal ready.

"Claire? This is Candy. You know Eric and I are getting married." A pause.

"Thanks. Would you be willing to be a bridesmaid? The wedding is at your
church on Saturday February 2nd. I'm not planning to wear anything special,
and the bridesmaids would wear their own clothes, too." ...

"I'm the one who's honored. You were there when I needed you, needed
someone desperately." She said goodbye, hung up, and then dialed again.
This call didn't sound successful, and she left her home phone for the
reply.

"Now," he said when she returned, "let's eat."

"Well, we promised the pastor to talk about several things," Candy began.
"Before we get to household chores, you should know one thing. I got my
grades. I got a C in Economics and another in Phys Ed. I got a D in English
and in Geology. I failed American History." That was one more thing the S O
B had taken from her. "I'm not going back." She sounded so defeated.

"Candy! That's awful, but that was because of how you felt after the rape.
You can do it."

"I don't think I could do it next semester, fighting morning sickness.
Anyway, I know that a modern marriage has equal sharing of household
chores. Right now, though, I'm not going to be doing anything else. I
should be able to keep house, even in a larger apartment."

"I take out the garbage." That was a trip down the slippery back stairs. He
had almost fallen once or twice himself, and falls were much more dangerous
in her condition. "You're saying you do all the rest?"

"Yeah."

"Well, things might change when there's a baby." Caring for an infant was
damned demanding, even when it was bottle fed.

"Well I hope the baby, at least, is changed." Some times the Candy who
probably had laughed before the rape shone through. This was one of those
times. Well that took care of housework until reality squeezed her -- it
certainly took care of any planning that they could do right then. If
housework was where she should take the lead, budget was where he should.
He, after all, had experience with the income which would be *their* income
before long.

"Budget. I've been putting away $200 a month out of my take-home. We'll
need some of that to pay for feeding you. We can save money on my parking
downtown. I can get back and forth on the El. It stops very close to
traffic court. The way I live, driving doesn't cost much; it's parking that
eats you alive."

"You really eat most of your meals out?" Well, yes, if mostly plainer and
cheaper fare than he had been feeding her.

"Not breakfasts. More than half of those I eat here."

"Well, you're going to have to learn to stomach my cooking. That will
increase our grocery bills, but less than you're spending in restaurants."

"I'm sure that anything you cook will taste delicious." He couldn't wait.
Besides, that would mean that he could be sure that she liked what was on
her plate.

"And then," he continued, "there's your clothing bill."

"That's not all that great. You'd be surprised." He might be surprised, but
so might she. In the first place, she might find that jeans made her feel
out of place. In the second place, she would need maternity clothes
reasonably soon.

"Have you thought of maternity clothes?" She didn't look like she had. But
they really weren't prepared to deal with this now. "Look, I know this
isn't quite what he said. Let's put it into 3 compartments. There's house
-- rent, utilities, phone. We can put car insurance in there, too." Fixed
expenses that she hadn't the faintest idea about. "Then there's my
expenses. Then there's your expenses. Why don't we come together Sunday
after church. I'll bring my pay-stub, the housing costs, and my costs. You
bring your costs. We'll work out a tentative budget then. And, of course,
the baby will blow that to smithereens. Carolyn used to claim that the
twins could outgrow their clothes on the way home from buying them."

"Then, there's child-raising rules." By going on, she seemed to accept his
suggestion.

"You agree that I have equal voice?" It was, after all, in her interest
that he be seen as the parent.

"And equal responsibility?" she responded.

"Certainly." Then he thought of exceptions. What if she, so strongly
influenced by Carolyn who was an advocate, decided to breast-feed? "Obvious
constraints excepted."

"Sure."

"I think, though," she continued after a moment, "that Rev. Lawrence was
expecting us to decide more than that we'd get an equal vote -- like what
the rules were. I keep picturing a very small baby, but I know that we'll
be parents for decades." Yeah. While he pictured her with a swollen belly,
his picture of an actual kid was always a third twin.

"Yeah," he said. "I, on the other hand, keep picturing the twins when I
think of kids."

"What do they want you to do that's not appropriate in church?" That
question was out of left field, but they weren't really making a hell of a
lot of decisions tonight.

"Spin them around." That sounded inaccurate. "Really, spin one of them
around, and then the other. Unlike their father, I hold them tight when I'm
doing it. It's really an outdoor game, but they're too used to Bill's
roughhousing to respect furniture."

"You plan on treating your own that way?" Well that depended on what he
wanted. It depended, too, on what Candy wanted. He'd asked for an equal
vote; he didn't plan to ignore her.

"Well, our own, we can tell that they can't do that inside." She had, after
all, said that she was picturing a small infant. "And, of course, I didn't
start with the boys when they were babies, and they won't have Bill's
influence, either." But was that going to be true? Anyway, Candy could
control Bill. "Well, I suppose that I said that we should let Bill have
some access. Really, he's good with kids. As to limits, I think -- whatever
I said about my having equal authority -- you should be the one telling
Bill the limits. I've never seen him argue with a mother, except, of
course, with Carolyn."

"Anyway, you don't expect to be too rough with it. You're right, 'it'
sounds wrong. Too rough with him or her." Well, he wasn't ever going to be
*too* rough with him. They just had to agree what was too rough, and with
her thinking of an infant in her arms, she would push for limits that were
inappropriate for a 5-year-old hellion.

"We'll agree, beforehand, what's too rough at any particular age. You know,
not even Bill held the twins upside down when they were newborn. And, of
course, it's not 'too rough with him or her.' Either it's 'too rough with
him' or it's 'too rough with her.' And those might well be different
questions. Anyway, The first issue is what the kid wants. Some of what he
wants is wrong, outdoor games in the house, for instance. But you don't
spin around or hold upside down a kid who doesn't want you to.

"Now, to get more practical, what is your position on physical punishment,
spanking?" That was an active debate around the church, since nobody wanted
to discuss it in the presence of kids, it was discussed remarkably often in
the choir.

"I keep thinking of a baby." Well, you don't spank a baby.

"That's obvious. You don't spank an infant. Think of a 3-year-old."

"I still remember being the one who was spanked." Which means somebody who
always sees spanking as brutality. At least he always had.

"Yeah. Me too. It's a live issue in the church. Hell! It's a live issue in
the marriage of Carolyn and Bill. That's why I asked. They didn't. Until
the twins came along, their main arguments were over tax rates."

"I don't know. I'd rather not spank her, but I don't know what else to do."
And there you had the problem. Positive reinforcement was all very well,
but you could feed a rat or a pigeon only when it did what you wanted. You
had to feed your kid regardless of how it behaved. Well, let's see. They
really had agreement on this. Neither *wanted* to spank, and each suspected
that he or she would. Well, the decision should be more conscious than
that. Besides, the 'never' crowd at the church would be willing to give her
suggestions.

"Well, in the beginning, you can discipline a kid by holding it away from
what it wants to do. I don't know what else to do when they get to be
Paul's age. of course, those are kids who were spanked regularly. Once you
start, I don't think other punishments work. Okay, let's go with this. We
don't plan to spank. When either of us feels that other punishments aren't
working, we have a discussion where the kid can't hear."

"That's very sensible." Which he would take for agreement. They were really
up in the air in this discussion -- talking about 2 different imaginary
kids. But they'd had the discussion; it would get concrete later.

"I hear a lot about reading to the kid." That would have to start, if the
doctrine he heard were to be obeyed, within the year.

"Well, don't you do that with the twins?" Well, sure, they were going to
read to him. The doctrine was rather stronger than that.

"Yeah. But there is an opinion in the church that you should read to the
kid for a half hour every day from the time he can sit up to the time that
he can read by himself. You read holding the book so you both can see it.
Bedtime stories are additional."

"You say I should." Hell, no! He'd said he wouldn't shirk anything that he
was physically capable of doing. The last thing he would want to shirk was
reading. On the other hand, she should do some of the reading.

"I say someone should. As you said, I enjoy reading."

"We'll try."

"And, when I said there's an opinion in the church, the women have these
circles. They're part of UMW. They get together mostly by the age of their
children. As you could guess, they swap a great deal of advice. I only hear
the edges, from Carolyn or in choir. Anyway, you'll have other sources,
books, your doctor, your own mother, maybe some other acquaintances. As I
said, I expect to have an equal vote, but there will be many issues where
you'll get advice and I won't have heard of." He was afraid of her shutting
him out, but he was equally afraid of her passivity.

"And when I do, I'll talk it over with you." That was what he wanted to
hear. She'd take the lead, but she would talk with him.

"You are a dream."

"Is that child care?" She asked.

"Not really," he conceded. "I think, though, that it's all the decisions on
child care either of us has enough information or opinion to make."

"That leaves sex." Yeah! That was something they could talk about; maybe it
was something they could do something about.

"Do you still think I'll frighten you?" After all, they weren't married
yet. He didn't have the right to have sex with her. But the first question
was whether she could have sex without its frightening her. Their last sex
had suggested that she could, but they could legitimately work some more on
that problem. And the last time they had worked on it had been the most
erotic experience of his life. And, after all, if she was willing to have
sex now, she merely had to say that she needed more reassurance.

"Not as long as you move slowly." Well, she clearly wasn't in the mood to
work on it some more. The other was a problem, though, when had he moved
too fast?

"That's good to know -- both.... I mean it's good to know -- very good to
hear -- that I don't frighten you, and it's good to be warned to move
slowly." And he would move slowly when he could. As his arousal went on,
however, he lost control. "But, right at the end, I might find it
difficult."

"Right at the end doesn't bother me."

"Still, I'll try to keep it in mind."

"You know, I don't think we ever told him that I had been scared." Candy
was changing the subject, and changing it drastically.

"Well, we told him that you had been raped. It doesn't take a genius. *I*
knew that you were afraid of men the first time I met you, and I'm not all
that sensitive. For that matter, the man is an experienced counselor,
trained too. They probably tell him that rape victims react badly to men in
seminary." Did they really handle rape counseling in seminary? Marriage
counseling, sure.

"Still, I got the impression that he wants every couple to settle the
questions about sex before they get married." She might well be right.
Well, what *were* the other problems about sex? He could see some coming
up, when her belly got in the way, but -- at that time -- she would have
comfort questions that her experience would address. Finally, he gave up.

"The floor is open... I mean what issues about sex do you want to bring
up."

"Eric, I want you to take care to excite me in every sex act." Hadn't he?
He had tried. For that matter, he would have sworn that she had two orgasms
before he'd asked her to say 'yes.'

"I'll try. Did I fail that time?"

"Oh, no. You were wonderful." Well, that was good hear. "But, I wasn't
considering that the standard." In a way, it wasn't. He'd taken her to an
orgasm by hand without expecting it to go further. What she'd asked for was
to be excited before he went into her.

"Anything more?"

"Well, I want you to kiss me all the time." That must be in exaggeration,
but it was a pleasant one to hear.

"Not during working hours, unfortunately. But, I'm off duty now." And, when
he got up, she got up, too. She came into his arms, and they had a long
kiss. She cooperated enthusiastically in the kiss, and turned at his
pressure on her shoulder when they broke. He could hold her marvelous
breasts while kissing the side of her neck. When he pulled her back against
his erection, she cooperated. She even rubbed her seat against it. He
remembered, though, that she had said they didn't have an excuse for actual
sex. After a while, he let her go. It was time to take her home.

Well, this would be her home in a few weeks. He wouldn't need to stop where
he had. And he could kiss her more often -- and more comfortably than in
the car, too.

"Maybe, in this weather, we shouldn't kiss all the time. Instead, we should
find time to be inside where kissing is more pleasant." Like in their home.
But that was something he'd almost forgotten -- to make it her home. "Oh,
by the way." He went to the living room to get her keys. "This one is the
outside door. This is the apartment door. This is the trunk and this is the
car door and ignition." She took the key ring and dropped it in her purse.

But, driving her home, he remembered that he had more to discuss. Start
with the question to which he knew the answer. "I'll see you Sunday,
right?"

"Sure. 10:30?" Good question.

"It's messy driving. Want to make it a little earlier? 10:20?"

"Sure." Well, she was agreeing.

"Do we have to wait 'til Sunday? You kept saying that we couldn't have a
date between Sundays because you needed to think things through."

"Well, I did." Sure she *did*.

"You did, and you thought them through. Do you still need more thinking
time?"

"I don't believe so?" If she hadn't agreed, it was because he hadn't asked
it right.

"Pick you up Friday at 6:00?"

"Or I could meet you downtown."

"Don't do that. You shouldn't spend time on the CTA when I can pick you up."

"Are we going to compare budgets?" Well, he could probably do what he
needed to do on Thursday night. On the other hand, if they compared budgets
in his apartment, they might do other things, too.

"Let's just eat. Let's leave budgets 'til Sunday." She was silent, which he
figured out was her agreement. When he parked the car, they had a kiss.
Between their coats and the steering wheel, it was a little strain. When he
walked her to the door, they had a kiss and a hug before she went in.

Later that night, he dreamed of stripping Candy of her elaborate wedding
gown on their wedding night. She was naked underneath, and his clothes
disappeared, too. He took her on the carpet, and their orgasms were mutual
and explosive. Whatever was imaginary of that scenario, his orgasm, at
least, had been real. The sheets were still sticky when he awoke.

Thursday night, he wrote Millie a long letter. She had been cleaning his
apartment on Friday mornings for a couple of years, although they hardly
ever met in person. If Candy was going to take on the household chores, she
wouldn't need Millie. He told her that Feb. 1st was her last day. He
described Candy and said that she had a key and might drop in. He enclosed
a check for 7 weeks, including 4 of severance.

When he picked Candy up for their date, she was dressed to the nines. Well,
he would take her to a restaurant worth of that dress, if not quite worthy
of the beauty of the woman gracing that dress. Manfredo's required
reservations. He would take her to the top restaurant of a hotel. Their own
guests never made reservations, so restaurants in hotels never required
them.

She glowed in the formal ambience, and the meal went well, too. They had a
glass of wine each. That much wine wouldn't put him near the DUI limit. She
was animated when he drove her home.

She stopped him when he reached for her outside her door. What happened to
the woman who wanted to be kissed all the time? "Come in, instead." Okay,
she had decided to be kissed in comfort. Her parents were there, and he
greeted them while she took care of her coat upstairs.

"What's this about holding the reception in the church?" her mother asked.
"Will they serve food or do we need to find a caterer?"

"We usually get take-out food. Church meals are potlucks, and that doesn't
go with a wedding reception."

"I can't figure it out."

"Do you want me to take care of it, then?" When he asked Bill to be his
best man, he would ask him to pick up the food, too.

"Are you willing?"

"Sure." That was an echo of Candy. "I know the places around Evanston."

Candy came downstairs and led him into the kitchen. She told him to put his
coats on a chair, and they had a long, sweet kiss. He was listening for
footsteps in the hall while he held her marvelous breasts again. Even
though her parents stayed where they were, it wasn't as nice as complete
privacy was. That didn't limit his arousal, though, and he was glad that he
had his coat to cover his groin before he returned to the living room.

Saturday, he called Bill to ask him to be best man.

"Sure. 3:00 you say?"

"Yeah. That's when the service starts. It might save my nerves if you were
a little early. Candy isn't trying for a fancy wedding gown, so I figured
that you and I would do well in suits."

"I'm sure. I was the only one who wore a monkey suit at my wedding. Dan not
only wore a suit, but a professor's suit."

"Look, I told Candy's family that I'd provide the food at the reception. If
I order it and pay for it, can you pick it up after the service?"

"Sure. Cake, too?"

"Damn I forgot that."

"The bride is the one that's supposed to get nervous."

"Yeah. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Early onset Alzheimer's."

"Gee, thanks."

"Any time."

"Well, assume that I'll order a cake and will tell you where to get it. Do
you have a recommendation?"

"Not from personal experience. Carolyn's family didn't want it to be dry.
We went downtown."

"Yeah. I should have remembered." And that was the recurring theme of that
time; he should have remembered. He did remember to pick up Candy on
Sunday, though. Despite all the things that were slipping his mind, he
never forgot her. Indeed, when he forgot other things, it was because he
was thinking about her.

She looked gorgeous when she opened the door to him on Sunday morning, and
he told her so. When he got into the car beside her, they kissed.

"Look, 2 things," he said when he had the car moving. "Today is coffee hour
again. Second, have you thought about inviting the church?"

"They won't expect something fancy?" No, they knew him, and nobody who knew
him associated him with something fancy.

"Not really. I've been to receptions in the church parlors. They bring in
food from local restaurants."

"But the wedding service?"

"It will be out of the standard book that Methodist preachers use. They've
seen long white trains and flower girls. They've seen ordinary clothes."
She was responding to the 'fancy church wedding' model, and that was his
fault, not hers. He had never expressed his, Aldersgate's really, model.
"You want to be part of the church, don't you?"

"Very much."

"Well when Aldersgate members get married to each other, everybody looks
on." He was putting that too strongly.

"Okay."

"Well, it won't be everybody." He needed to correct his statement. "The
kids don't usually come, and others give it a pass, but it's one thing to
be invited and give it a pass, and it's another thing to not be invited."

"I said 'okay.'" Yeah. She had.

"The reason I ask today is that I'd like to issue the invitation at coffee
hour."

"Why not?"

"And this time, maybe, it would be better if we don't split up."

"Yeah. I can see that. You were right the first time, though."

After the service they went into coffee hour and sat with Carolyn, Bill,
and the boys. When the rattle of plates died down, he spoke to Candy.

"Get up with me." She did, and he took her left hand. "You've all seen
this," he said loudly. He showed her hand with the ring. "Candy and I are
getting married. The wedding is in nearly 2 weeks. Saturday, February 2nd.
It's at 3 p.m., and it's in the sanctuary. You're all invited."

There was a scattering of applause. Before they sat down he took Candy
around the room and everybody said nice things. Well, every adult but
Claire. She got up and gave Candy a silent hug. They sat down and finished
their coffee and cookies.

When people started to leave, he led Candy down the hall to the church
library. They had a nice kiss with his foot blocking the door. He needn't
have bothered, as nobody tried to get in.

They went to Maria's Pantry for the meal afterwards, and Candy finished her
ravioli. It wasn't a huge serving, but it was the only solid food that he'd
seen her actually finish. She declined dessert, however, citing the cookies
she'd had at the coffee hour. While they were there, he gave her the
figures on income, his expenses, and what would be family expenses -- rent,
car, that sort of thing. She gave him her list of her expenses.

She was going to wait in his apartment for the deliveryman Monday, and he
gave her the money for the tip when they were back in the car. He didn't
like to wave money around in a public place.

"They'll probably set up the bed when they deliver it. If not, leave it. I
don't want you doing heavy lifting. Anyway, if they do give them the 20. If
they don't, give them the single. Don't offer them the 20 if they'll put up
the bed. Anyway..." But there wasn't anything further to say. He started
the car and drove her home. They had a sweet kiss outside her door, but she
didn't invite him in.

Monday, when he got home, the place smelled better than it ever had. Food
smells wafted from the kitchen. Candy came towards him.

"Well!"  He reached for her.

"Take your coat off first." That was sensible. She felt much better against
him when he wasn't wearing a coat. He hung both the parka and the suit coat
in the closet. She was warm and soft and arousing against him as he
explored her mouth with his tongue and her seat with his hands.

"I gather," he said when he came up for air, "that you didn't want to go
out for dinner."

"You said to make myself at home." Well, yes, but he hadn't meant for her
to cook for him. On the other hand, this was a delightful foreshadowing of
their marriage.

"I meant for your convenience, but that smells delicious. Did the bed come
all right?"

"Yeah, but the sheets didn't." Damn! The sheets hadn't come because he
hadn't bought any, and, of course, twin sheets -- top sheets, too, but
especially fitted bottom sheets -- didn't work on a double bed.

"Damn! I should have thought of that."

"So should I." That didn't follow. She was always blaming herself.

"Why? You didn't know what I had."  Now, she might have been at fault for
being so distracting that he couldn't get his act together, but she wasn't
at fault for not knowing what sheets he had in his linen supply.

"Is there a place to buy them before it closes?" Now, that was the right
question. And, yes, they could get to Sears. Sears would have sheets. Or
should he go alone?

"Yeah. Can you leave the dinner?"

"Easily. Let's go." She was starting to take charge, and that was
fortunate. At Sears she selected several sets of sheets and a blanket. They
would need another pillow, too, and they bought that. She got another
couple of pillow cases, although his old ones would still work.

After a short time kissing, she broke to return to the kitchen. He made the
bed with the new sheets and blanket. He put old -- but washed -- pillow
cases on both pillows. Then he went to the kitchen for another kiss.

"Where is your calendar?" Candy wasn't in the mood for kisses. She was too
busy being a chef. He pointed to the calendar hanging on the wall. She
giggled. "No, silly, a colander, to drain the spaghetti." He heard the
difference in pronunciation the second time, but he didn't know what she
was talking about otherwise.

When she figured out that he really didn't know what she meant, she had him
pour the water out of the pot in which she had boiled the spaghetti. She
held the lid on so that only the water got out. Then she used tongs to
remove the spaghetti. When the only noodles left were swimming around, they
did it again.

The meal was delicious, and he told her so. When it was over, they cleared
the table and loaded the dishwasher together. Although she didn't have to
cook for him, he appreciated the togetherness. It felt like they were a
married couple.

After that, though, they were a pair of teenagers. They went from kissing
standing to kissing with her in his lap. His hands went everywhere, and she
didn't make even a *pro forma* protest.

Then, he had to take her home. Well, in 2 more weeks, he wouldn't. When
they were here, she would be home. They still, however, had to get through
those 2 weeks.

"Look," he asked her on the way to her family's house, "dates Wednesday and
Friday nights?"

"Sure." Right then, Candy's usual unenthusiastic acceptance felt right. Of
course they were going to go out together.

"Let's skip this 6:00 bit. I'll come right after work. I'll aim for 5:30,
but don't put on your coat 'til I ring the bell."

And those nights he took her to movies after the restaurants. They sat with
his arm around her. He didn't reach for her breast, partially because they
had more nearly private -- although not totally private -- time when he
picked her up and after he walked her to the door. When they were in the
kitchen, her parents stayed away.

Sunday, he picked her up as usual. They sat close, but not touching, in
church. Claire was in the same pew, and said that there was something wrong
with her car. He offered her a ride home. The weather being fair and not
too cold, Candy and Claire decided to walk with him to the car instead of
his coming back to pick them up. They were among the last to shake Rev.
Lawrence's hand leaving the church.

"Rehearsal Friday night?" Rev. Lawrence asked Candy. Well, he'd heard
vaguely about wedding rehearsals. He hadn't thought about it in relation to
them.

"Um, sure. Claire? Can you make it?" Claire had shaken Rev. Lawrence's hand
just before Candy did.

"Yeah. Do you want me to tell Joan?"

"Could you? I quite forgot about the rehearsal." So he wasn't the only one.

"That's all right. It's your first wedding. It's not my first, not even my
hundredth." Now, Rev. Lawrence turned to him. "And you host the rehearsal
dinner. Is 7:00 a good time?" He looked at Candy, who didn't seem to have
any objections.

"Okay. We'll call you if there is a problem." They all went down the
stairs, and he pointed Claire towards the car. "If Mom, Dad, and Rachel
can't come, it will be Friday night, not 7 p.m., which is the problem."

They drove Claire to the residence for woman grad students. When he started
towards the restaurant, he turned his attention to their immediate future.

"Well, we won't have a date Friday night."

"Or we'll have a different kind of date." Well, it wasn't what he thought
of as a date.

"Are Monday and Wednesday all right?" He didn't want to seem to be taking
her for granted. Still, he thought that the week before the wedding an
assumption of a standing date wasn't out of line.

"Sure." They ate at a different Chinese restaurant. Again, they kissed at
her door but she didn't invite him in. She evidently thought that Sundays
were different from dates.

Back home, he made 3 phone calls. Bill wasn't surprised by Friday night. He
suggested the Milano's back room for the rehearsal dinner.

"They don't take large crowds, but a dozen can eat there without feeling
lost."

"Thanks." He got the answering machine at Mom and Dad's. He tried Rachel.

"Hello." Stan sounded excited.

"Stan? It's Uncle Eric."

"Hi." He was much less excited, now. This wasn't the phone call he wanted.

"Is your mother there?"

"Sure. Mom, it's Uncle Eric." The last sentence was shouted, but Stan had
taken the phone away from his mouth so it came over the phone at less
volume than the first. The rap of the phone being set down, and then a wait.

"Eric?"

"Rachel. There's been a slight change in plans."

"She's thrown you over."

"No. Slighter than that. There is a rehearsal the night before. It's at
7:00, and I'd like you to be there. I called Mom and Dad, but I got the
answering machine. Anyway, I'd like you to be there, but I could understand
if you couldn't. I don't know what you'd have to rehearse, anyway. But,
that might be my ignorance. I don't know what I'd have to rehearse, either."

"Well, they'll tell you. Has anyone told you to buy your bride a bouquet?"

"No. Well, not 'til now. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I hope she's a good manager; you need someone to manage
you, and I'm too far away." That was a dig, but it was too close to the
truth for him to try to dig back.

"I left a message on Dad's machine. I'll call tonight. Talk to them, okay?"

"I'm not the one who doesn't talk to them. Long distance isn't that
expensive, you know."

"I mean about this."

"Well, you didn't talk to them about this, either. No, 'I've met a nice
girl.' Boom, the first news is that you're getting married, and that's in a
letter. And I had to learn from them." Well, there was no reason writing
duplicate letters to Rachel and Mom. Anything he wrote one would be told
the other.

"So, I'm a bad son."

"And a bad brother."

"And, apparently, a bad uncle. Stan used to like to talk to me."

"That, for once, isn't your fault." From Rachel, this was a great
concession. "He's going through another phase. I asked about his going, and
he's not interested. He's not interested in much, right now, and what he is
interested in he's not telling me." That sounded familiar. Some interests
you don't share with your parents, especially not your mother.

"Maybe my birthday gift should be a subscription to *Playboy.*"

"Don't you dare.... You think that's it?"

"Well, he's a little young." He hadn't seen Stan for a couple of years, but
it wasn't *that* long. Stan was still 12, not a teenager yet.

He looked a florist up in the Yellow Pages. They were open Saturdays, not
surprising since he'd reached them on Sunday, and he could stop in Friday
to select a bouquet which he could pick up Saturday. That was one thing he
didn't have to ask Bill about. Well, Rachel and Bill told him privately;
the pastor blurted it out in front of an audience. He now understood
polygamy. If you went through this a couple of times, you'd know what you
were doing.

If Candy's figures were accurate, she would add to his costs less than he
would save on parking and cleaning services. Of course, she wasn't counting
buying maternity clothes -- let alone the costs of a baby.

Monday, he was paired with Bob. The judge, Goldberg, had been a prosecutor
-- before Eric's time -- and was a dream to appear before. The lunch break
was generous, and he got to Carson's again and bought a fancy set of
towels. They could probably live with the ones he had, but his only matched
sets were a little worn. Again, he left when court let out, and he got to
Candy's house shortly before 5:15. Her mother returned to the kitchen, and
he and Candy kissed until her father got home. They went to a movie and
then to the Pho place again.

He could depend on others to remind him of what was needed for the wedding.
After that, though, he was going to be starting a marriage, and Candy
didn't have any more experience there than he did. Well, she would need
cash. Then, too, he was going to leave her the car. Well, the cash he could
provide. While he was getting the cash at Northern Trust on his lunch hour,
Tuesday, he got the forms for putting her on the account. She would need to
be on other accounts, too. He paid most of his bills with credit cards.
Well, he'd send for those which weren't local. That night he typed up and
signed a paper saying that Candace/Candy Wharton/Stewart had his permission
to drive the car. In the morning, he put it in the glove compartment next
to the registration.

Wednesday, he didn't leave the office until 5:30. Figuring that anybody in
the office might have seen Candy there, he decided that he wouldn't invite
any of them to the wedding. When he picked up Candy, she wasn't dressed for
anything fancy. He took her to the first Chinese place in Evanston again.
While there, he handed her an envelope with the cash and told her they
would talk later.

"You still have your car keys?" He asked while they were walking to the car.

"Yeah."

"Feel confident about driving tonight?"

"Yeah." She didn't sound confident, but Candy never did. She got in the
driver's side, though, and he got in the passenger side.

"Drive me to the apartment. Do you know the way?" He gave her some
directions, but she sort of knew Evanston by now.

"Look, why don't you take the car now? I have papers in the glove
compartment saying that you have my permission to drive the car in case you
are stopped. The envelope I gave you is some cash. You spent a little for
groceries already. This is money for what you think the household needs.
Some of it is in singles, 'cause you don't want to go in and buy a head of
lettuce with a 20. The tank is nearly full, but you might need gas, too.
I'll ride the EL to work the next two days, and Bill or Dad will get me to
the rehearsal -- to the wedding, too."

She only acquiesced. Thursday night, though, he saw evidence that she had
been there. Pete, the sexton, usually came in Thursday nights after
rehearsals. After his dinner, he got in the church while the choir was
coming out. He caught Pete there and told him about the wedding, the
reception, and the rehearsal.

"Yeah, Pastor told me."

"Well, I'm sorry to make extra work for you, but this might help." He
handed him two 20s.

"Why thank you."

"You're quite welcome." He went out and back to the apartment.

Friday, he left directly from court. Since he was on the EL, he got home
well before 5:00. He showered, shaved again, and dressed in clean clothes
except for his shoes. There was a call from Mom on his answering machine.
They had started early, Dad and Rachel having taken the day off. He called
their motel and told Dad how to find his apartment. They came by at 6:30,
and Dad gave him he wheel. He parked close to the church. Rev. Lawrence was
there and let them in. Joan was already there, and Candy and her family
came minutes later. Bill let Claire in, and they were all assembled.

Just what had to be rehearsed, he couldn't tell. Of course, fancier
weddings had more to be rehearsed. They went to Milano's for the rehearsal
dinner, and there were few enough people that Candy got to know his family.
She drove him home, and they had a nice kiss in the car. The next time,
they would be in their own home.

Saturday morning, he made the bed with all new bedclothes. He had cereal
for breakfast. Dad picked him up, and he went to their motel for some
family time.

"Really, Eric," said Rachel. "She is a beauty. What does she see in
*you*?"

"Somehow, that's not a question I've asked her. And I'd appreciate your not
asking the question either."

"Isn't she rather young?" Mom asked.

"19. That is, much as it may surprise you, over the age of consent."

"Well, yes. But what does she do?"

"What you did at 19, and what Rachel and I did. She goes to school."
Actually, Candy had told him that she wasn't going back this semester. The
semester had already begun. But Mom didn't have to know that.

"Really, dear." Everyone was telling him 'really.'

"Well, you know, yes, she's younger than I am. But, since I'm older than
she is, I'm established enough that I can support a family on my earnings
alone."

"Well," Dad said, "she's a lovely girl. I'm surprised that she's not
pressing for a huge, fancy wedding."

"Dad," Rachel said. She'd gone all out for her wedding. Dad had been happy
enough at the time. If he could change one aspect of that wedding, it would
be her choice of groom.

"I didn't say anything about you."

"Look," Eric said, "she's a different person. We're all, each of us,
particular individuals. Some things are important to one person, and some
things are important to other persons. I just hope I can provide her with
what is important to her." That was truer than he was willing to explain.
Yes, Candy needed him to be father of her child. In a year, however, she
would need this much less. He had to become what she would need then, and
he was determined to find out what that was.

They went out for lunch, and his family asked fewer personal questions in
public. He got a rundown on Stan. He stopped at the florists for the
bouquet, and got to the church about 45 minutes before everything was to
begin. He got his family seated on the left of the front pew and gave Rev.
Lawrence the wedding license. When Candy's family came in, he gave her
mother the bouquet and went into the fellowship room so Candy had freedom
to come and go.

Bill got him, and they went around so that they came in the back. They
stood to one side for a few minutes, and then Dennis played the wedding
march and her father walked Candy down the aisle. She had always looked
pretty, but she looked especially beautiful right then. The church, never
full on a Sunday, was remarkably less full then.

The service went without a hitch. A the end, he kissed his bride. Bill
ducked out, grabbing Dan Hagopian. Marge Hagopian and a couple of other
women from UMW went through the reception line first. They proceeded to mix
the punch. The line was done before Bill and Dan got back from the Thai
place. They brought the wedding cake, too.

Marge shooed Candy and him to the long table at the back of the parlors.
They sat there while Claire and Joan brought them their food. Everybody
else got their own. After the meal they cut the cake, and people lined up
for it. There was a table with some wedding presents on it. According to
Mom and Mrs. Wharton, they weren't supposed to open them then. They
separated and went around giving thanks and getting congratulations.

When he thought that the time was ripe, he walked over to Candy and looked
a question at her.

"You want to go?" Candy asked.

"If you want to."

"Let me thank Claire and Joan and get my purse." They started to leave.

"Carolyn and I will take care of the presents," Bill said. Oops! something
else he'd forgotten.

"Thanks."

Then Candy led the way to where she'd parked the car. He drove them to
*their* home. When they were upstairs and out of their coats, he kissed her
and began to remove the next layer. She stopped him.

"Tonight," she said, "let's do it this way. I'll get undressed and into
bed, and then you will." Okay. If that's what she wanted.

When she came out of the bathroom in her sexy robe, he saw that she'd been
right. They were a married couple, but -- more than that -- she was a
bride. The wedding night was special. And, since it was special, he should
shower again. He'd been so nervous that he'd sweated like a pig. He should
wear pajamas, too, rather than his usual boxers for sleeping. He got the
pair that Mom had given him for Christmas, and he took them in when he went
to shower. He shaved again, too, and was lavish with the aftershave.

She looked beautiful lying there. "Oh, Candy," he said. When he got in bed,
she moved over, not avoiding him but giving him room. He kissed her and
stroked her face. 'Take your time,' he reminded himself. He'd promised to
take his time and not move too fast. As her mouth opened for his tongue to
enter, he slowly stroked down to her breast. He folded the sheet back to
see her, not only the breasts but the dark delta barely visible through the
sheer cloth.

"That's a lovely nightgown," he said. "Would it be hypocritical to say that
and ask to take it off?" When she raised her midsection off the mattress,
he pulled the nightgown up. She sat up and helped him remove it entirely.
When she lay back down he could clearly see the dark brown delta both
shielding and emphasizing the center of her sexuality.

"The pajamas, too," she said. "Sauce for the goose." Well, at some time he
would have to remove them. He didn't know how she would react to seeing a
naked man, though, and he would prefer her more aroused before she saw him
naked. It was her sensibilities, he worried about, though, and he followed
her choice.

"Actually, I look better in them." He moved out of bed to strip.

When he got back in, he kissed her lovely breasts. When her nipples
responded to his suction, he stroked her thighs. She opened her legs, and
he caressed the folds of her sex. When he felt between them, she was damp.
He was so erect that it was almost painful, but she had her own erections.
He kissed one firm nipple and then the other while he stroked her moisture
up her folds to the nubbin between them.

He had promised to excite her, and he was succeeding. Her hips were rising
into his hand, and her whole body seemed to stiffen. He sucked on the
nipple of her far breast before kissing a line down that breast and up the
near one. When he reached that nipple, he licked all around it before
sucking it. All the while he lightly rubbed the nubbin and dipped his
finger deeper into her folds to bring up more moisture.

"Oh," she said. She stiffened more. He had promised to excite her, and she
was excited. This was the time!

"Oh, darling," he said. He started to move into position. He stopped just
outside the gates. "Say yes."

"I think I said that this afternoon." She was giggling when she said that.

"Say it again." *He*, unlike the mother-fucking perp, would always wait for
her permission.

"Yes." Her mouth said it, and then, as he sank into her warmth, her body
said it. He was bare, and she was soft and smooth and liquid around him.
Every touch as he slid into her made his head spin. She clasped the head,
and then the shaft.

"Oh darling. So soft, so smooth, so warm." Finally, she clasped all of his
cock warmly, wetly, lovingly. It had never been like this. As he withdrew,
each inch of his shaft experienced the smooth slide of her tunnel, then the
special hug of her entrance, then felt strangely lonely outside. He stopped
just as the head was feeling the extra tightness just before her folds.
Then he returned to her warmth, again feeling the unique welcome of her
clasp.

His arousal spiraled, and -- despite his efforts to keep it slow -- he felt
himself moving faster and faster. He had all of her, but he wanted more of
her. He thrust in hard, trying to go deeper than he could. Then he
exploded. It was the most sensual feeling of his life.

He collapsed onto her softness. He knew he should move, delightful as this
embrace was, but he didn't have the energy. Even breathing was an effort.
Candy held his back. Finally, he caught his breath and gathered enough
energy. He moved over to his side.

"Sorry," he said. She didn't say anything, but she moved next to him a
little later. He fell asleep hugging her.

That morning, Candy rushed to the bathroom. He heard her throwing up. Of
course. He had known she was pregnant, and he had heard about morning
sickness. She came back to the bedroom a little later, and grabbed her robe.

"Do you want to use the bathroom before I shower?" she asked.

"That's a good idea." He pissed and then shaved. He came out, still naked,
to let her in. When she was done, he took his own shower. They would have
to set the alarm earlier to accommodate both of them on work-day mornings.
He needn't have bothered shaving early; she avoided his kiss. He kissed her
forehead, which she accepted. She cooked eggs for breakfast, but ate only
toast herself.

At church, they sat behind Claire. Joan wasn't there. Candy went up for
communion with him, which made him happy. After church, they were still in
wedding-congratulation mode. Carolyn came in after changing out of her
choir robe, and her family trailed after her.

"Who's that?" Bill asked before he could greet the boys.

"Uncle Eric," Paul and Johnny said.

"And who is the woman standing with Uncle Eric?"

"Miss Wharton." Johnny said. Paul wasn't saying anything. Probably he
smelled a rat.

"She sure looks like Miss Wharton, doesn't she? But really, she's Mrs.
Stewart."

"Bill," Carolyn said, "don't obfuscate." She was a wonderful woman with a
beautiful alto voice, but occasionally she said something which reminded
you that she was a professor.

"Treading on your monopoly, dear?" Bill asked. "Very well." He turned to
the boys. "Yesterday, she married your Uncle Eric. Since he's 'Mr.
Stewart,' that makes her 'Mrs. Stewart.' Is that clear?"

"Well," Candy asked, "if he's 'Uncle Eric,' can I be 'Aunt Candy'?"

"You want that?" asked Carolyn.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, today they got more information, and more confusion, than is fit for
kindergarteners. This week is for you guys. Why don't you come visit us a
week from Wednesday? We can get the boys using your new name then."

"Prof. Pierce, you are more than kind."

"Well, if the guys can call you by a new name, can you call me by my name?
I'm not your professor any more. Can you call me Carolyn?"

"Certainly, Carolyn. What time Wednesday?" Usually, he went straight from
work when he was visiting Carolyn, Bill, and the boys, but Candy and he
were a couple now. That answer wouldn't really work.

The two women set the time. The group went out the front, shaking the
pastor's hand. Rev. Lawrence's was always careful to shake the hand of the
kids as well as the adults. He and Bill went for the cars while the others
waited.

"Mexican food okay?" he asked Candy when she was in the car.

"Fine but I'm cooking supper." And she cooked a delicious supper. They
cleared the table and filled the dishwasher together. Somehow, doing that
made him feel more married.

Cuddling while they watched television wasn't so much being married as
being in love. He wore the same pajamas, and she wore the sexy nightgown to
bed. He'd said that he would kiss her always, and he hadn't made a good job
of it since making the promise. She hadn't complained, and apparently she
found the cuddling on the sofa a satisfactory substitute. Once in bed,
though, he kissed her thoroughly.

They hugged while they continued the kiss. He felt her lovely breasts press
against him. He remembered the lovely feelings he had when he was within
her, but it was too soon for his body to respond. He knew she was lying
beside him as he drifted off to sleep.

Mornings weren't the problem he had expected. She had morning sickness, but
she didn't shower until he was gone for the day. Morning sickness or not,
she cooked breakfast every morning as well as dinner every night. She ate a
little more of the dinners she had cooked, but much less than he did.

Her avoidance of kisses in the morning was fine. Actually, he didn't want
to kiss her right after she had thrown up, either. He tried to remember to
keep the kisses coming other times, and, he enjoyed those kisses. Hugging
could be even better, and she seemed to like it, too.

He used his lunch times to collect forms from stores where he had charge
cards. She needed to go on all of them. He used office time and an office
typewriter to send letters to his other charge accounts. Maybe she would
want accounts of her own, but he didn't know what. He realized he didn't
really know what women bought, except clothes and groceries.

Their grocery bills were certain to be much higher than his had been. If
she kept up this pace, he would eat more dinners in the apartment in
February '80 than he had in the previous 3 years. The higher grocery bills,
however, weren't going to affect their total outgo. His savings on
restaurant meals for the week would be more than what he'd given her in
cash, and she hadn't yet asked for more.

Wednesday, he suddenly remembered that he hadn't put her on his health
insurance. He went to the personnel department after court and did that
directly. They put her on immediately but required a form to get her a
card. The personnel guy had him file a new W4, too. By Friday, he thought
he had everything together. The credit cards with out-of-town companies
weren't here yet, but they might take weeks.

That night during their kiss, he wanted to hug her as he had the night
before. He had an erection, though, and he thought it might either offend
or annoy her. He moved away from her to sleep.

Saturday morning, when she looked ready to face the day, he gathered all
the forms together. All she had to do was register her new signature.

"These are to get your signature on the account and the cards. Probably you
should practice a few times," he told her. Then he had a new thought. "You
are going to take the name 'Stewart,' aren't you? I should have asked."
Candy got one of her old school notebooks and practiced her signature. When
she thought she had it stabilized, she started signing the forms. When she
got to the bank form, he had a new thought. Northern Trust was in the Loop,
and convenient for him. Maybe she wanted something in Evanston. Maybe it
would solidify her relationship with her new home town. He should give her
the opportunity.

"Look, it'll be a while until the new checks come. Your signature will be
good Monday afternoon or so, but the new checks will take a couple of
weeks. Until then, businesses might not be happy taking them. I can make
sure you have enough cash until then. Another possibility is opening an
account up here. Northern Trust is convenient for me downtown, but not for
you."

"Cash will be fine." Then he should remember to get her more cash.

"I just don't know what groceries cost," he said. "I'm used to doing my
budgeting *post hoc*. I open my credit-card bills and see if I went under
or over budget the previous month."

"Well," she said, "we're both learning. I'm saving receipts, and I'll add
them up to see what the groceries cost. I'm not any more used to being
married than you are." That would be fine, and she sounded real
understanding of his forgetfulness. Well, between now and when the checks
came, he would make sure to give her as much each week as she said the
groceries cost. Before she got those figures together, he should get her
another $100 on Monday.

"That's right. Well, we have a little padding." He hadn't put any more
money into his mutual fund since he'd first proposed, and he'd taken enough
out to pay for the ring. Money was sitting in his checking account right
now that would cover all but the most dire emergencies. "Anyway, one more
form gets you on my health-insurance plan." After she had finished that,
she went into the kitchen.

After dinner, they settled in front of the television again. This was fine
for him; he spent 40 hours a week plus travel time away from home. Candy
would soon need a break too keep her from going stir crazy. Luckily, the
apartment was new to her, and this shouldn't be a problem right now.
Anyway, this was as good as it could get for him, and he paid little
attention to the show. She snuggled into his arm, and he stroked her
breasts and then her thigh.

He had an understanding that at some point in her pregnancy, Candy would
develop a distaste for sex. He had no idea when that was, but thought it
would be sometime after her stomach got large. Between now and then, he
would get as much as she would give him. It had been a week; certainly she
wouldn't refuse him this night. She certainly wasn't expressing any
distaste. His desire rose to the point that he left her to go to bed. She
took the hint and came in not that long afterwards. Again, she was wearing
the arousing robe. She took it off to show her even more arousing nightgown.

"Do you really need that nightgown?" he asked. She didn't answer, but she
took off the nightgown. He could see the soft breasts he had stroked
earlier, the glistening thighs, and the delta where the hair hinted at the
delights between those thighs.

She got into bed, and they had a sweet kiss. Soon, the kiss turned hot. He
pressed his lip hard into hers, and her mouth opened for his tongue. Now he
felt not only the shape of her breasts but the smoothness of the sides and
the firmness of the nipples on top. He had to taste those nipples. When he
did, he had to feel her thighs and the sweet folds between them.

She opened her legs when his hand went to their junction. She was already
moist in response to him. Slowly, reverently, he stroked that moisture,
those folds. and the tiny nubbin between the folds. The nubbin, no less
than the nipples, responded to him. Her body stiffened beside him. Her
breath roughened.

"Ah," she sighed.

"Oh, Candy," he responded. He got in position. As he was entering her, she
pushed up to take more of him. She was so sweet; the flesh around him was
so smooth and warm. He told her so before he began moving. The sensations
were glorious. Then they got even better. Then they ended with an explosion
as he poured himself into her.

"Oh, God, Candy." He sank onto her softness. When he could regain his
strength, he moved off.

"Sorry," he said as he was moving. When he had his weight on the sheet
rather than on her, he hugged her in the spoon. She was his, if not as
dramatically as she had been his a few minutes previously. He hugged her
until he slept.

They were no longer celebrities in church, but they had people to talk to
after the service. When Dennis came down after playing the postlude, he
headed for him.

"Look, you seemed to do your courting in church, and I could understand
that keeping you out of the choir. You're a married man, now. Do you think
you could sing again? We are really unbalanced, and Maureen is coming back
soon." Maureen had a lovely soprano voice, but he could believe that the
congregation didn't hear much tenor when she used the volume she could
achieve.

"I'll think about it." He would really ask Candy, but if he expressed it
that way, Dennis would ask her himself. "I don't want to be up there next
week." That was a coffee hour, and -- although choir members participated
-- Candy would have to find a table by herself before he came up from the
robing room.

"Well, try for Thursday. We rehearse the next three anthems." He knew that,
but he saw Dennis's point. He needed three rehearsals to sing well; two
would help. If he were to sing an anthem with only one rehearsal, he would
be ragged.

"I'll think about it." And he did think, and -- what was more important --
consult his wife, about singing in the choir.

"Chinese place okay?" he asked when they were in the car driving away from
church.

"Fine. But I cook supper."

"Do you want to make that the weekly pattern? I mean Sunday dinner at noon
out -- Sunday supper at night at home." He thought she should get out more,
but he didn't want to look like he was avoiding her cooking.

"Okay."

"Well, it is now the weekly pattern. If you see a reason to change it, tell
me. And. speaking of which..."

"Yeah?"

"I like spending time at home with you, but I get out for 40 or 50 hours a
week. Your break from spending time at home with me is spending time at
home alone."

"Well, I go out shopping nearly every day." She did? What did she buy? And
what did she buy it with? He'd only given her a little more than $100.

"Well, that's good." Was it really good? And she would find going up and
down the stairs more of a chore in a few months. "If you want to go out
shopping, it's good that you do. But I was thinking of us going out
together -- movies or something. Would you like to?"

"Sure."

"Once a week?"

"Sure."

"I have another question." They started their relationship having all of
their discussions in a moving car. They now had a home, but it still felt
more appropriate to bring up the questions while they were driving.
"Dennis, the organist, suggested I go back to the choir. That would mean
our not sitting together. Would you mind?"

"No. That's fine."

"I want to be with you the beginning of the next coffee hour, which is next
week, so I won't sing then. But rehearsals are Thursdays. I thought I might
start rehearsing this Thursday."

"Okay."

"That would mean that the night we go out together couldn't be Thursday." A
long silence. "How about Tuesday."

"Okay." By now, they were in the restaurant parking lot.

They saw a movie Tuesday, and went to visit Carolyn, Bill, and the boys
Wednesday.

The boys, who had never been certain of the identity of 'Miss Wharton,'
were happy to call he 'Aunt Candy.' Carolyn went back to the kitchen, and
Bill wasn't home yet.

"Spin me around," said Paul. Carolyn didn't mind that *before* dinner, but
she didn't appreciate it in the living room.

"Why don't you invite Aunt Candy and me up to your room? I might spin you
around up there." Carolyn was insistent that their play room was their
space and that they controlled admittance -- except for their parents and
Mrs. Jackson, the cleaning lady.

"Okay," said Paul. Which wasn't much of an invitation, but it was as good
as they were going to get.

"What's the magic word?" he asked Paul when they were in the kids' play
room. Both boys were busy clearing debris off the floor. He wasn't going to
spin anyone around until the footing was reliable.

"Uncle Eric, please swing me around."

"You'd rather have that than books?"

"*Please*!"

"Why don't we do it like this? Before supper, I'll swing you around. After
supper, Aunt Candy will read some books to you."

"Yeah." And Johnny echoed Paul.

Candy took Johnny's hand and stood beside the TV set. It was easier to
avoid collisions if everything that was in danger of collision was in the
same area. He picked up Paul and got him in a tight hug. He spun in 3 full
circles, the 2nd one real fast. Paul let go, and he set him down. Johnny
ran over for his turn, and Paul went and stood by Candy and let her take
his hand. He spun in the opposite direction for Johnny. He'd learned that
was the best way to reduce dizziness. The boys had been so good that he
repeated the process. He and Candy then went downstairs to emphasize that
the game was over.

Bill came home while they were on the stairs. The boys ran into him on
their way downstairs, but they stopped at his word -- and grip on Paul;
they stayed behind him until Candy was off the stairs.

The twins didn't get much upside-down time before Carolyn called everybody
to dinner. The kids were used to telling their stories of 'school' at
dinner, and he -- and apparently Candy -- listened with interest. After
dinner, Candy helped clear. He sent the boys back upstairs to get some
books for Aunt Candy to read to them. Soon after they had brought their
books downstairs, Candy and Carolyn got to the living room.

He set her up in the middle of the couch with a boy on either side and a
couple of books on the other side of each boy. She read to them until Bill
called time. Since the alternative was bed, she got a long kiss and hug
from each boy, he got the same, and then it was Carolyn's turn. Bill herded
them up the stairs. Carolyn sighed as the clatter receded.

"So how is married life treating you?" she asked.

"It's still full of surprises," Candy answered.

"Yeah. Just wait until you get to parenthood. 'I didn't expect that,' is
the motto of the mamas. Dr. Spock tries to prepare you, but he doesn't have
the imagination that either of those 2 have."

"Eric tells me that you have some circle to help you." Candy would be
interested in parenting advice sooner than Carolyn suspected.

"They are more help for the younger ones. Not just younger in age, but
having younger kids. I had, unfortunately, been a mama for several years
when the Priscilla Circle was formed."

"Rev. Lawrence tried to warn us, but he didn't have questions for
everything," he said. "And, too, Candy not only has to get used to being
married, but to being married to me."

"And vice versa," Candy said. "Actually, Eric is one of the good things
about being married." She didn't sound convincing to him, but Carolyn
didn't seem to notice. After the conversation went on for a bit, Bill came
downstairs alone. Carolyn immediately headed up for good-night kisses, and
Bill dumped the wedding gifts on a chair next to him.

"Thanks. I should have remembered them."

"You guys are the least mercenary couple I've ever seen," Carolyn said from
the stairs. "I had all the packages opened the next day." Well, yes, but
she had had many more gifts. He could have told his coworkers, and they
would have chipped in for a gift or two. Then, however, they would have
remembered the date better; besides, he didn't know who had been around to
notice Candy asking for the sex-crimes section. It had been better to leave
them out of it.

They thanked their hosts for the meal and for all the help during the
wedding and before. Carolyn and Bill, in turn, thanked them for the
entertainment they had provided the twins.

"Nice people," he said in the car driving back to the apartment.

"Nice people. Nice kids."

"You enjoy being Aunt Candy? Reading to them?"

"Yeah, but I'm never going to spin them around."

"Well, they'll probably never ask you. For that matter, they're getting too
heavy. I'm not sure how long I can keep that up.... I think our first visit
as a couple was both a pleasure and a success." He was leading the witness
again, but Candy didn't express opinions unless he did.

"Yeah." Her tone, at least, sounded satisfied.

And they were, really, a couple. He could introduce her into the society in
which he was such an insignificant participant. He figured that Candy would
impress more than he ever had. But they were a couple; he'd bask in her
reflected glory.


The end
Married State - M
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2012/09/06


These same events from Candy's perspective, can be read in:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/ste_03f.htm
Candy's experience

The first adventures of Eric with Candy:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/ste_01m.htm
"Why Me?_3"

Another story about another couple beginning marriage
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_04m.htm"> "Legal - M" </a>


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