Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: An Unwitting Discovery
Summary: College romance has unexpected twist.
Keywords: inc,fic,fantasy
   It was the start of my sophomore year at North Carolina State University
(NC State).  Living on campus for the first two semesters had been okay,
though having three roommates made study - and life, for that matter - a
little difficult at times.  I had lived in a four-bedroom apartment that
shared a single open 'common' area and one bathroom.  That wasn't ideal,
but I'd been mostly okay with it since it was inside the engineering dorm,
which was supposed to be for the more dedicated students.
   The problem with 'supposed to be' is that it often differs drastically
from reality.  I found my fellow occupants were dedicated, but their
dedication was to pursuit of game.  Their 'prey' consisted mostly of
combatants in online video games, but a couple of the guys had a side
pursuit of bedding as many of the females on campus as possible.  These
particular young men also seemed to tilt the tables to their advantage by
making themselves immune to the effects of alcohol.  The fact that the
drinking age was 21, didn't seem to interfere with their managing to
languish on the edge of sobriety.  They reminded me of my stepfather,
although Pete had generally kept his sheets 'throwed' more firmly to the
wind.
   These distractions, coupled with simply adjusting to this new
environment, caused my first year in engineering to go less smoothly than
I'd hoped.  I wound up pulling low B's in some of my core courses, and I
hadn't expected that, since I'd gotten mostly A's in high school.  Another
thing that I hadn't expected was how well I'd done in the biology class I'd
taken as an elective.  I had taken AP Biology in high school, but always
figured I'd follow in my Dad's path by taking up some type of engineering.
It seemed to have worked well enough for him.  Instead, I found myself
engrossed in all of the new advances in biology, so I'd followed up with
two more core BIO courses in my spring semester.  I found myself just
flying through them, along with calculus I and II, and general chemistry I
and II.
   I'd gotten into college, mostly, based on my math SAT score and good
grades.  My English score was passable, but on the low side.  That meant
that I had a few courses to make up, but I'd done pretty well in my
remedial English classes, both semesters.  In fact, I'd gotten A's in every
course except my major, so I was really rethinking my chosen path.
   Towards the end of the spring semester, I had already decided I wanted
to take a break over the summer.  I wanted to go see my Dad and think about
things.  But when I'd called in April, I found out that he and Aunt Katie
were going on a vacation to Europe.  I was in the midst of making a whole
'nother set of plans when he'd called me back to invite me to go with them.
Of course, I jumped at the opportunity.  I'd loved taking French and
German, in high school, and wanted to see more of the world.  Dad had been
to all kinds of cool places after my parents divorced and I felt pretty
fortunate to have been invited along, on this trip.
   By the end of my second semester, I had just about had a full hat of the
dorm situation.  I'd done the calculations and, if I spent just a little
more, I could afford an efficiency apartment.  The burn rate from the
college fund Dad had set up wouldn't increase too much.  Additionally, I
felt I could forego the fun stuff he'd told me there would be funds to
cover.  The final straw that pushed me to move was an incident where one of
my roommates had used my room for sex while I was out studying at the
library.  This guy had a reputation for being the sort that was naturally
horizontal.  However, his activities had cost me a night's sleep before a
big test in engineering.  In my opinion, it had been the reason I'd gotten
a C on the final.  It dropped my overall grade for the course to a mid B.
That was actually a little higher than the previous semester's engineering
course, but I felt as though I should be making A's in my major.
   So I spent the last week of May moving into my new efficiency and, when
June came, I flew to Vienna to meet up with Dad and Aunt Katie.  From
there, we went off to several different cities and had a great trip.  It
was a very enlightening trip in many respects; I learned a lot about
myself. I learned a lot about Dad and Aunt Katie, as well.
   One of the side-benefits of the trip was that I had time to get Dad's
honest input on the possibility of my chancing my major.  Since he was an
engineer, I'd expected him to balk at my idea of switching my major to
biology, but he was actually super supportive!  His words had been, "Tommy,
I'm still putting money in your college 529 and personal funds.  You need
to make sure you really like what you are preparing to do in life.  Get
that right, everything else is gravy."
   Well, that's my version of it.  Dad has an odd way of speaking, to my
way of thinking.  I spent most of my 'growing-up years' in Texas, while Dad
was raised in North Carolina, so we have slightly different vocabularies.
When Mom left Dad, she moved us to Austin, and my use of colorful Texas
colloquialisms increased dramatically.  Lately, though, I've noticed my
language skills are changing - most likely the result of my remedial
English classes.  I find myself working constantly to adjust my speech and
writing.  Now that I think about it Dad would never have used the word,
gravy.  In fact, I was starting to drop it from my vocabulary, too.
   My Texas drawl had gotten me some sideways glances, my first few months
on campus.  It garnered some chuckles in English class, as well.  Funny
thing was, I was born in North Carolina, not too far from campus.  On top
of that, my accent had started to change to match the surrounding people
fairly quickly, too.  I'd bet money that most folks from up north couldn't
tell a Texan from a Tar Heel, just by listening to them speak.  When I hear
someone from either place, it's pretty clear, at least to me.
   Still, there's speaking, and then there's writing.  I very quickly
learned that most of my writing, in college, would be of a more technical
nature, and there was no room for colloquialisms in such documents.  As for
speaking, I simply disliked feeling self-conscious when the instructor - or
my classmates - looked strangely at me because of my choice of words when I
gave an answer to a question posed in class.
   One day in class last spring, while giving an answer to a question, I
used the phrase, 'rode hard and put away wet'.  After the students settled
from their belly laughs, the professor had me spend several minutes
explaining myself.  I worked hard to share the concept of the proper care
of horses, before the instructor caught on that the phrase - one that any
Texan would easily understand - was another way of saying 'mistreated' or
'abused.' Then he explained to me that around here term had a more vulgar
meaning in the students' vernacular.  I thought about it a bit and realized
the two meanings might not be all that different.
   After returning from Europe, I found two experiences similar.  Coupled
together they both encouraged me to improve my ability to communicate and
become more aggressive with my language and accent adjustments.  I honestly
liked hearing all the different accents I was exposed to, on campus.  The
thing is, accents can identify you with a particular place, and that can
lead to your being incorrectly 'pegged' as being of a particular
intellectual level, often a low one.  So I listened to the sounds of the
voices around me, and worked hard at minimizing my south-Texas drawl.  I
even fantasized that I might lose my accent, all together, while pursuing
an advanced degree up north somewhere.
   Dan - my father, and Pete - my stepfather, couldn't be more different.
Pete can strut sitting down, but can usually barely afford to put beer in
the fridge.  'Barely afford' means that he does it, and then complains
about anything else he has to buy.
   Dan makes really good money, working as an engineer out on the oil
platforms in the Gulf, and his month-on, month-off schedule doesn't give
him as much time to go spending it as most folks with 'normal' jobs have.
He doesn't flaunt his money, though, like some folks do.  He's got a fancy
house, with a pool, down on the Gulf, but he says it's just a house - a
place for him to keep his stuff.  Maybe he's right, and it just seems like
a fancy mansion to me, compared to the double-wide Mom and Pete have, just
outside of Austin.
   Dad always looks forward to having me visit for at least a month, in the
summer, and a week or two every other Christmas.  He's kept my bedroom,
there, just like it was when I lived with him.  It is a place that is just
mine and didn't have to do double-duty as some other sort of room, despite
the fact that I only spent a few weeks out of the year sleeping in it.
   As far as I could tell, Dad - Dan - was a good man.  I can't recall him
ever having a cross word for Mom, even after their divorce.  Considering
the fact that she cheated on him, and left him to run off with another man,
that's downright saintly.  Even Dad's version of their meeting gave Mom
more credit than she probably deserved.  The story went like this: He met
this cute redhead on one of his computer gigs.  She was 'in charge of' the
computer database at a mom and pop electronics store.  That was probably
generous, too.  I suspect she was just the one that did all the data entry,
'cause that's what she does now.  He said she was taking some night classes
at one of the community colleges and needed some 'tutoring'.  The only
words he used, that even approached casting a negative light on Mom, were
still shaded with kindness.  It was his description of how I'd been
conceived.
   "We'd been dating for about two months when Miss Launa Duinerua 'forgot'
to take her pills and I knocked her up with you.  It wasn't quite a shotgun
wedding, but it was close."
   Pete was the kind of guy that you can't tell anything.  To him, even my
questions were wrong.  I guess he fits that adage: You can always tell a
Texan, but you can't tell him much.  Dan was pretty much the opposite in
that regard.  I could talk to him about damn near anything; he was a
listener.  When I was a little dude he took time to read to me, listen to
my questions, and make sure I understood things in my classes.  It set me
up to a great start on my education.
   Mom was cut from a different cloth.  She spoke almost as little about
her parents as Dad did, his.  Still, I'd heard enough bits of information,
over a lot of conversations with her, to gather that her folks were a
little on the harsh side.  The way they treated her bordered on abusive,
and she'd wanted to be out from under them.  It seemed pretty inexplicable,
but she had very few nice words for Dad even when they were married.  After
the divorce, she would cut him down in front of me, every chance she got.
My Mom wasn't abusive to me, but she seemed to do things without
considering their effect on me.  I loved my Mom, after a fashion; she was
my mother, after all.  However, we were at odds more often than not.  The
God's honest truth was Launa [Duinerua] [Anderson] Davis could start a
fight in an empty house!  Her dark red hair color seemed to personify her
fiery moods.
   Even as a kid, I understood why Dad's job took him away from us for a
month at a stretch.  He was trying to make our lives better than what he'd
had, when he'd been a kid.  He never talked about his childhood much but
certain clues would pop out: how strict his father had been, how his dad
never had any real time for him, and how poor they'd been.  Dad was gone
for a month, and then home for a month, on account of the fact that he
worked on drilling rigs and oil platforms.  He couldn't be home all the
time but, when he was, he was all in.  I guess Mom didn't get that.  Dan
worked hard so we would have a good life - and we did, right up until the
day that Mom met Pete.
   It might seem a little thing, to some folks, but the break-up of a
marriage is never a little thing, and that's even truer when there are
children involved.  That was the biggest issue I had, with my Mom.  I
thought that her leaving Dan, for Pete, was a bad choice from the get go.
She treated me like a naïve thirteen year old at the time, but I knew it
was a raw deal and told her so.  I was being ripped away from a truly good
man who tried his best to be an excellent dad to me.
   In his place was a weak excuse for a man, who really didn't seem all
that interested in me, or any kids for that matter.  Worse, I was getting
uprooted from my really nice home in Corpus Christi to move to a damn
trailer park in Austin.  The whole deal just plain sucked, and I resented
it.  The only good thing I had, going for me, was that - thanks to Dan's
coaching and patient tutoring - I was already taking advanced classes in
high school when Mom left him.  That, at least, got me into the advanced
placement program at my new school in Austin.
   During my last few months in high school, Pete reminded me fairly
regularly that I'd better get a scholarship, or I was going to need to find
some work and pay him some rent....  My grades had been good, but my SAT
scores - while they were good enough to get me into college, weren't high
enough to qualify me for any scholarships, especially when Dad's income was
added to the equation.
   When I got the letter of acceptance to Dan's alma mater, NC State, I
began to panic.  During the week before visiting Dan for the summer, I'd
been trying to figure out how I might get some college loans and then how
I'd pay 'em all off when I got out.
   Dan had, of course, provided my deliverance.  When he told me he had my
four years of college covered; I could have kissed a coyote!  Not even Pete
could let the air out of that balloon!  Dan made that whole 'get a job'
threat, from Pete, a moot point.  On top of all the college funds, Dan
bought me a brand new Ford Taurus.  As much as I wanted to be my own man, I
had to be honest with myself: Dad's help was a Texas-sized relief.
   Well, long story short, the encouragement from Dad, during the vacation,
convinced me to switch my major to biology with a minor in engineering.  It
wasn't like I was failing engineering.  I just found the biology came to me
naturally and was much more interesting.  The start of the fall semester of
my sophomore year I got into a junior level class on genetics that was only
offered every other year.  There were only twenty of us taking BIO-310,
Principles of Molecular Genetics, and the associated lab.  The class met
every day at 3:00 PM, which was fairly unusual.  Most classes gave days
off, but this one met daily and included a required lab on Fridays at 5:00
PM following the class, for a total of five credits.
   Monday was the last chance course change day, and Tuesday was the first
day of classes this fall semester.  Morning classes had gone smoothly, and
I was waiting outside the lecture hall for my genetics class.  A prior
class was still going on, but about to let out.  That was when a vision
appeared beside the doorway.  My eyes beheld the face and figure of the
woman I hoped was going to be the future Mrs.  Anderson.  God, she was a
sight!  I was in love with her before we'd even spoken.  I was certain it
wasn't just a physical attraction, like you might feel toward a super
model; there was some strange, indefinable something that drew me to her.
   Trying to place what it was about her, I assumed a casual leaning stance
against the painted cinder-block walls of the old building, studying her as
surreptitiously as I could from my position across the hall.  Her face was
very symmetrical and her figure feminine, but not overly so.  She had
strawberry blond hair that came down to her mid-back.  She was a just about
my height, maybe a little shorter since she was wearing low heels when I
first saw her.  Her lips were full and a little pouty, but they looked just
right on her.  None of that seemed to make a lick of difference, in my
head. I was convinced it wasn't purely a carnal attraction despite the fact
that the only interaction we'd had, thus far, was visual.
   The previous class had finally let out, but I kept staring until I
realized I had probably looked a little too long.  I blushed lightly as I
passed her, going into the room.  I headed for the back of the class, which
I considered my normal spot.  Sitting in back meant I could see everyone,
plus it seemed to garner me less attention.  Today, it also meant I would
have a very good view of her as she had chosen a seat that was across the
aisle of the small platform lecture hall.
   Professor Franklin came in, introduced himself, and handed out the
syllabus.  Then he said, "There are some of you who shouldn't be in this
class."
   I thought to myself, Bet that fella is talkin' about me.
   He continued on, "The pace of this course is quite rapid.  We're going
to cover a lot of material in the first two weeks.  If you're not keeping
up by then, I suggest you drop."
   That stunned me.  It was probably the most honest advice I'd ever heard,
from an educator.  Thing was, I took it as a challenge.  I went home to my
little efficiency and started reading the textbook that very night.  I got
through about a quarter of the book, and then started in on the
supplementary material.
   When Wednesday's genetics class rolled around, there was a pop quiz.  I
knew I aced it cold, and that impression was verified when he collected the
quiz sheets.  He had kind of looked mine over with an astonished expression
on his face.  During the rest of that class session, I raised my hand for
many of the questions he asked.  Additionally, I asked him some questions
when I felt that he glossed over some items that seemed important.  When I
left the class, that day, I felt like I was on top of the world.  I walked
down the hallway, heading for the parking lot, thinking about how great
this semester would be.  That's when someone tapped me on the shoulder,
prompting me to turn around.
   I'm sure the astonishment on my face was unmistakable.  I hadn't
forgotten about her, but had hardly expected to find myself face to face
with her, that day or any other.  I usually didn't have that kind of luck
with 'average pretty' girls, let alone drop-dead-gorgeous ones!  My mind
went momentarily blank, as I got lost in the twin glistening gems of her
emerald eyes; I couldn't believe she was standing there, talking to me.
   "Hello, my name is Suzan.  What's yours?" she asked with a voice that
melted my heart instantly.
   It took me several agonizing seconds to realize it was my turn to speak.
"Oh - um - I - uh." The words stuck in my mouth.  I tried again.  "I'm
Tommy," I told her, keeping it simple.
   "Nice to meet you, Tommy," she smiled at me, seemingly unaware of how
I'd just made a babbling fool of myself.  "You really seem to have a grasp
on this stuff.  I haven't seen you in any of my other biology classes,
though.  Did you just transfer in, here?"
   "Well, uh, no ma'am.  I - uh - sorta - um - uh," I stammered.  "I
changed majors - um - uh - from engineering," I finally worked it out.
   "How'd they let you take this advanced course?" she asked ponderously.
   "Well, I took the three core courses, last year, and got all A's.  I'm
taking a fourth, now.  When I met with my new advisor, she recommended I
take this one as well, 'cause it was only offered every two years," I told
her, loosening up a little.  "Taking this fourth core biology class, and a
couple organic chemistry courses, will put me on track to finish in four
years, despite the change in my major - though I'll probably have to take
some summer courses, to make that plan work."
   "I'm a junior, this year; I'm just surprised at your grasp of the
material," she complimented me.  "I was wondering: would you like to be
study partners?"
   "You - um - oh - hm - uh - yeah - ah - sure," I fumbled the words out. I
hoped she didn't see how I was looking at her.  I desperately didn't want
to screw this up.  My mind was racing around faster than a one-armed
paperhanger.  "Uh - when would - um - you - um."
   She came to my rescue.  She gently placed her hand upon my shoulder and
said, "Tommy, you were really well spoken in class, just now.  Calm down
and just talk to me, okay?"
   That was it; I was done.  She owned my heart, right then and there. 
"Okay, Suzan.  When would you like to study?" I asked with clarity that
surprised even me.
   "Well, I have a part-time job after classes most days, but I'm off by
9:00 PM.  We could meet up in the library or my apartment, but I have
roommates."
   "Okay, the library is good.  I have an apartment, too.  But no
roommates," I offered.  I knew I'd stepped in it, then, 'cause she'd never
think to be alone with me, the way I was practically ogling her.
   "Oh, really?  That might be better than the library," she said, as my
jaw dropped open.
   She smiled pleasantly for a few moments, probably waiting for me to
respond.  "Hey, Tommy.  You might want to close that.  People are going to
stare," she teased me back to my senses.  "Look, you give me the address,
and I'll bring some food from where I work."
   She was going to bring food, too?  "Oh, okay.  You want me to just text
it to you?"
   "Yeah, perfect.  Give me your phone."
   I gave her my phone and she texted herself, so I'd have the number and
she'd have mine.  Then she gave it back and said, "Okay, just text me the
address.  I have to work early today, so I've got to go.  See you this
evening."
   She walked away briskly.  I watched her hips sway back and forth to the
end of the hall.  I'd've rather watched her walk than eat fried chicken -
and, for a Southerner, that's sayin' a lot!  I couldn't help myself.
   I spent the rest of the day thinking about her.  I had a few gals that I
hung out with in high school but most never really took a fancy to me.  In
my senior year, I'd got involved with one of them.  Come to think of it,
she'd been in my biology class, too.  The relationship had been fairly
short, though.  After she ended it, she'd moved on pretty quickly to a
fella that had graduated a couple years before.  He had a car, an
apartment, and a job managing a fast food place.  I figured she'd dumped me
for him 'cause she thought I was a poor trailer dweller, and probably
didn't imagine I was going anywhere.  I seemed to get that a lot, after Mom
moved us into that trailer park.  The names I used to hear, as I got on the
bus, would make a sailor blush.  What none of 'em knew was that I couldn't
wait to get out of that place.
   Suzan's voice had not even a hint of accent.  If you'd asked me where
she was from, I'd have just said, "Heaven".  I couldn't blow this chance,
so when I got home I cleaned everything.  I mean everything.  I knew we
were going to study, but I didn't want her to even get a sideways thought.
Studying was going to be the easy part.  What was hard would be not rushing
things, thus making her think I was some kind of weirdo who falls in love
at first sight.
   Around 8:00 I texted Suzan the address and got a shower.  Cleaning up
the apartment had given me an odor that might have put off seasoned farm
hands, and I really wanted to make a good first impression.  In the shower
I found myself with a real rigid problem that wouldn't be dissuaded.  I
wasn't about to let it get the better of me, so I beat it back with vigor.
In the end, it had taken two attempts to straighten it out and, by the time
I got out of the shower, it was almost nine.  I'd blown a lot of time on
that exercise, but I definitely didn't want to frighten Suzan off.  In my
small bedroom, I put on clean underwear, jeans, a shirt, socks and boots.
   What seemed like just a few moments later, there was a knock at my door.
When I opened it, she was standing there, still wearing the cute outfit
she'd had on earlier.  The difference was she smelled like food.  It might
have actually been the food she'd brought; she had a bag in her hand. 
After I stared at her for what was probably too long, I finally invited her
inside my little efficiency apartment.
   "I'm sorry.  Excuse my manners, I haven't had a woman over here," I
offered.  What?  What did I just say?  I asked myself.
   "Thanks for doing this, Tommy.  I brought some chicken Chow Mein.  I
hope that's alright."
   "I'm sure it's better than my cooking," I chuckled in response.
   She stepped into my apartment, and deposited a big paper bag on the
table in the kitchenette.  I dug out some plates and utensils.  "I don't
have any chopsticks," I told her.
   "I don't use them - never learned how.  But I brought some, in case you
wanted to try," she winked at me.
   I didn't know what to think.  If she was trying to win my favor, she'd
already done it.  I think I'd have crawled over cactus for her, if she'd
asked.  I tried to keep my cool, as my two hungers battled for dominance.
"You want something to drink?" I asked, finally.
   "Sure; what do you have?"
   "Well, I have some coke or water."
   "What kind is it?"
   "Well, I've got grape or orange."
   "I'll take grape," she said, a little oddly.
   "Sorry, I guess it must be a Texas thing.  Back home, 'coke' ain't
Coke-a-Cola.  It's just a generic term for what northern folk might call
'soda' or 'pop' - any carbonated beverage." I explained, as I poured us
each a glass of grape fizz.
   Suzan opened the containers and dished the food out onto the plates, and
we were soon digging into the Chow Mein.  I decided to use the chopsticks
that she'd brought.  Dad had taught me how, when I was like five and,
anymore, eating Chinese with a fork just didn't seem 'right'.  When she saw
me dig in, with them, Suzan took a stab at it, too.  She was struggling a
bit, so I showed her the trick.  I placed the first stick across her middle
finger and between the bend of the thumb and index finger.  Then, I had her
pinch the second stick between her thumb and index finger.  Touching her
right hand with both of mine, as I got her set up, had put me back on alert
below the table.  I tried to ignore it and hoped it wasn't noticeable. 
After just a few more attempts with the chopsticks, she'd gotten the hang
of them and was happily chowing down like a character in a Bruce Lee movie.
   "You're just a natural born teacher, aren't you?" she asked.
   "Well, my dad taught me, and he's got a knack for making things pretty
simple," I blushed.
   "It must run in the family, then." she smiled.
   After the meal, I told her, "I'll clean all this up later.  We should
get to studying, before it's too late." I moved the plates and containers
to the sink and wiped off the table.
   "Yeah, I just thought this first night could be a 'get acquainted'
thing," she said, as she got out her books.  She had all the books I had,
plus another that I hadn't seen.
   "Is that the lab manual?" I asked.
   "Yeah, we have a lab at the end of each week.  I heard that this guy
really pushes the labs hard."
   "I haven't found that book yet.  The book store was out."
   "Well, maybe we can be lab partners, too," she said cheerfully.  "Then
we can share this one."
   We dug into the books and covered much of the same material I'd read
through, the previous night.  This time, though, it wasn't just me reading
the stuff.  The two of us conversed about the material.  It was kind of
funny, really.  She kept telling me that I was helping her, but some of her
insights really brought things full circle for me.  We wrapped things up,
long about midnight, and planned another session for Friday night.  That
would give us time to work through the results of our lab, prepare our
report, and get it perfect before turning it in on Monday.
   I walked her down to her car, then.  My apartment wasn't in a bad part
of town, but the parking area wasn't very well lit.  Besides, during my
visits with him, Dad taught me to be a gentleman.  Walking Suzan to her car
was the gentlemanly thing to do.  We arrived at her beat up old Corolla,
and she put her backpack on the passenger seat.  I followed her around to
the other side of the car, and just barely remembered to reach out and open
the door for her.  The payoff, for that little effort, came in the form of
the thousand-watt smile she aimed at me.
   "Thanks, again, for this," she said.
   "No; thank you!  I really got something out of this, too!" I told her.
   Then, out of nowhere, she planted a kiss lightly on my cheek.  "Good
night, Tommy."
   "Good night, Suzan." I knew I was blushing six shades of red.  I
wondered if she could see it under the dim lighting, as I dared to lean
closer and kiss her cheek, in return
   I couldn't believe my luck.  I didn't know it yet, but my drought was
about to end with a flood!
   The next day in class, Suzan sat in back beside me.  I took notes in the
textbook margins and in a separate composition book if there was something
special covered.  The professor appeared to be sticking to the book fairly
closely.  Suzan was just writing in her notebook but occasionally glanced
over to see what I was doing.  I couldn't help feel a bit self-conscious
since I was technically the underclassman in this.  Her frequent inspection
was also giving me a bit of an arousal issue, too.  About halfway through
the class, I noticed her glances drop lower, and I saw a faint smile appear
on her face.  Talk about embarrassment!  My eyes closed involuntarily,
wincing at my body's betrayal.
   Toward the end of class, the professor handed back our quizzes.  I had,
indeed, gotten a 100%.  Suzan had missed one question, for a 90%, which was
still an A on his ten-point scale.  After he finished, he opened up the
class to questions about the quiz and the homework he'd assigned.  There
was a smattering of questions but nothing of real importance, so we were
let out a couple of minutes early.  The homework would be due Monday, along
with the report on the lab assignment.
   In the hall Suzan chatted with me briefly.  "You're just full of
surprises," she said.
   "Franklin's comment about the pace of the course, that first day, was a
little scary," I admitted.  "So I read the first several chapters of the
book that night." I didn't want to admit how much of the book I had
actually read as I saw her looking at the Good Job!  comment that the
professor had written on my quiz.
   "Well, I think I picked the right study partner," she said, as she gave
me another peck on the cheek.
   I was blushing again.  I couldn't believe she'd done that right there,
in the hall.  I wanted to grab her and kiss her back, but I tried to remain
calm.  "I can't wait to do the lab.  I need to check the other bookstores
and see if any have that lab book."
   "We can share until you find one," she offered.  "I need to go to work
now, but I'll see you in class, tomorrow."
   This time, I escorted her to her car, and we chatted idly as we walked
toward the parking lot.
   "What's your next class?" she asked, at one point.
   BIO 310 was the last class I had, that day.  "Thursday is my light day,"
I told Suzan.  "I get to go home."
   "Don't you have a job, Tommy?"
   "No," I blushed, "My Dad is footing the bill for all this."
   "Wow, my parents basically raised me and were done," she said, a bit
dejected.
   "Yeah, my step-father would have done the same, but my Dad is the best.
He wanted me to not have to choose between an obligation to a job to earn
college money, or extra study time when I needed it.  When do you get off,
tonight?"
   She took my question as an invitation, "I wish I could come back over
tonight, but I'm supposed to work until closing.  I'll see you tomorrow,
though," she smiled coyly, as she dropped her gaze towards my crotch.  My
arousal had evidently returned without me really noticing.  Suzan clearly
had me melted like putty in her hand.  She told me, "Bye" and got into her
car.
   After I watched her go, I couldn't stop thinking about her.  Her long
straight strawberry blond hair had smelled wonderful.  She didn't over-use
fragrances, in fact I don't know if I even smelled a particular scent.  She
definitely smelled feminine.  There was another odor there too; it smelled
like home.  It reminded me of my favorite feather pillow, back when I was a
child.  It made me want to curl into a fetal position in a nice warm bed,
which was a very odd sensation to be having on this hot August day.
   Clearing these aroma-triggered memories from my mind, I started walking
towards the bookstore to see if they had gotten the lab book I still
needed. The campus bookstore said they were still having trouble getting
it. The professor had given them the wrong student count for the class.  I
spent the rest of the afternoon driving around to several other bookstores
looking for it.  Around six, that night, I returned to my apartment, having
had no success at any of the bookstores.  I would not be able to prepare
for the lab like I wanted to.  My late registration for the class was
probably the cause of the book shortage.
   Inside my efficiency, I pulled out my laptop, opened it on the kitchen
table, and started searching for the book online.  I found a copy, but it
wouldn't be there until next week.  I went ahead and ordered it, and then
started searching to see if I could find and electronic version somewhere.
By nine o'clock, I was tired of looking and getting hungry.  I put the
laptop away and warmed up some of the Chinese that Suzan had brought.  I
really wished she didn't have to work late.  I'd have given anything to see
her right then, and my thoughts weren't very scholarly.  After eating I had
decided to go ahead and turn in early for the night, when I got a text.
   "Hey - got off early.  Still want to prepare for the lab?"
   "Yes!" I pressed send and instantly hoped the exclamation point didn't
make me seem too desperate.
   She was at my place in moments, knocking on the door.
   "You must have texted from just down the street," I said, grinning, as I
opened the door and welcomed her inside.
   "Yeah, I had thought about going back to my place, but I could use some
prep for the lab."
   God, she smelled good.  It wasn't the food smell, either.  "I looked for
the book again today, still no luck, so I ordered it.  But it won't be here
until next week."
   "Oh, that's too bad.  I should have let you borrow mine," she said
apologetically.
   "Well, you're here now," I said.  My eyes roamed over her.  I really
couldn't help it.
   She caught me looking and just smiled.  Her emerald eyes twinkled as she
watched me, now.  "Why don't we study for that lab," she suggested, as she
placed her backpack on my table.
   "Okay, I guess I could sit still for that," I said, stupidly.
   "What'd you say?"
   "Oh, sorry; What I meant, was, Yes, ma'am.  "
   "No, what did you say?"
   "It's silly," I said.  "I'm still working on dropping my Texan lingo. 
I'd sit still for that just means I'm up for doing that.  I wouldn't get up
and walk away." I knew I was blushing furiously.  Amongst the youth around
Austin, that phrase frequently carried a second, less wholesome, meaning.
   "That's so cute," she said stroking my cheek.  She literally had no
accent.  Well, maybe it was an American accent, thinking of the various
European accents I'd heard.  But to me she spoke like one of those
television news anchors.
   "Where are you from, Suzan?" I asked, trying to place her voice.
   "Well I spent most of my childhood around northern Virginia, but we
moved around every few years.  I ended up in Durham, for high school.  Then
I started school here just as my parents moved out to the west coast."
   I guessed all that moving from place to place probably did wash away
most her accent.  "Why'd you move around so much?" I asked, since it seemed
like she was being open.
   She didn't answer right away.  Something was making her hesitate. 
"Well, my dad is a preacher," she finally said, not offering any further
details.
   "Hmm, that makes sense." I felt like maybe I'd touched on a sore topic.
She looked pretty nervous about something, so I suggested, "Well, let's get
started."
   We sat at the kitchen table together.  First we worked on the homework
for Monday, to see if there were any problems that would need extra
research.  Then we went through both the lab procedures, and all of the
questions about the lab, to make doubly sure we knew what we needed to look
for during the session.  When we thought we were ready, and had all of our
steps planned out, we decided to call it a night.  All that felt like it
took about an hour.  However, the clock on the stove read a quarter after
one.
   "Jeez, Suzan!" I exclaimed.  "I'm sorry; I didn't realize it was so
late!"
   "Well, crap, our time just slipped away," she said thoughtfully.  "And,
here, I thought time only flew when you're having fun!"
   "Or when you're with someone who's fun to be with," I offered, suddenly
wondering where I'd gotten the mettle to make such a statement.
   Her gaze transfixed me again.  "That's true, too," she agreed, nodding.
   I wondered if I should offer for her to stay the night, for a short
moment, and then decided I was on a role, so 'nothing ventured, nothing
gained.'
   "Hey, uh...  maybe...  um...  You want to stay here, tonight?" I asked
the question awkwardly.
   She looked around the apartment.  There was only the double bed just
visible through the doorway to the bedroom.  I didn't have a couch or even
an easy chair and I could see her hesitation.
   "I um...  didn't mean we - "
   "Sure," she said, cutting me off.
   "We can put a rolled-up blanket down the middle of the bed, or
something."
   "Don't be silly, Tommy; I trust you.  I was just thinking - I didn't
bring a change of clothes." she said.
   "I have some long tee shirts.  You can pick one out, if you like." I
offered.
   "Yeah, that'd be great."
   Leading her to the bedroom dresser, I pulled open a drawer filled with
neatly folded tee shirts and told her, "You choose whatever you like."
   A cute little smile crept across her lips, "Wow, so neat."
   My heart leapt.  Her praise instantly rewarded for the time I'd spent
all that time cleaning.  You can't beat making a good first impression on a
girl, and you sure can't undo making a bad one.
   After she picked one out, I went to the bathroom to get her a
toothbrush. I pulled the remnants of a four-pack from the cabinet under the
sink, and handed it to her.
   "You can have one of these, too.  What time is your first class?" I
asked.
   "Not until 10:00, so I should have time to go back to my apartment and
change," she said, as she headed into the bathroom.  "Thanks, for the
toothbrush.  I'll be out in just a minute."
   While she was in the bathroom, I changed quickly into some gym shorts
and a tee shirt.  I heard the toilet flush and the water in the sink
started.  My heart rate was increasing as this situation was unfolding.  I
wondered at Suzan's trust in me; I wasn't entirely sure I trusted myself. I
mean, I trusted my waking self, but what might I do in my sleep?  The
doorknob was turning, now.  The light from the bathroom streamed out into
the bedroom.
   Suzan stepped into the room and placed her neatly folded clothing on my
dresser by the door.  The pile appeared to include a bra.  The tee shirt
she'd selected came down far enough to just barely cover her panties.  I
felt my face flush as she turned back to face me.
   Then she did a little 'ballerina' spin, with a knowing smile on her
face. "Look okay?" she asked.
   "Lots better than just 'okay'," I ventured, earning myself a bright
smile from her.  "You're my guest, so pick whichever side of the bed you
like," I said, and headed to the bathroom for my turn.  Inside, I found my
mind fogged by her feminine scent, which lingered in the air.  I sat on the
toilet, brushing my teeth and trying to clear my head as I relieved myself.
When I finished, I washed my hands and face, rinsed my mouth, and turned
out the bathroom light as I headed for the bedroom.
   Opening the door, I found Suzan had taken the far side of the bed, and
appeared to be lightly sleeping.  I climbed into the bed and turned off the
light on the nightstand.  As excited as I was, the comfort of her body next
to mine put me at ease for some reason.  The combination of her scent and
my own feather pillow sent my senses into twilight and I was asleep before
I knew it.
   I was awakened by the sounds of the neighbors in the apartment upstairs,
and quickly realized the situation had changed.  Suzan was spooned tightly
against my back, her arm wrapped around my waist and her hand in my shorts!
I remained frozen on my side, with my back toward her, for an interminable
time.  This turn of events had me as confused as a goat on AstroTurf!  My
morning wood was hard as a tent pole, and her warm hand was loosely wrapped
around it!
   After about fifteen minutes of this delicious torture - during which I
surprisingly did not explode, as I thought I might - she finally stirred a
bit.  Her hand gripped and stroked me lightly, and I felt her warm breath
on the back of my neck, followed by the gentle touch of her lips as she
left a feather-light kiss, there.
   "Morning," she said softly.  I swear, I'd never heard a sweeter sound in
all my natural born days!
   "Morning," I answered, trying to make the word come out as something
other than a pleasured groan.
   I rolled off my side, to be more on my back.  She adjusted her position
slightly, rising up on her left elbow to gaze down at me, and kept right on
stroking me gently.
   "Are you sure - " I started, and that's all the farther I got.  I was
going to ask her if she was sure that she wanted to go any farther, when
she dipped her head and her lips found mine.  Suddenly, I was in heaven! 
Her lips against mine felt so soft and full and wet.  Moments later, her
mouth was angled to mine and she tentatively stuck her tongue out, running
it gently across my teeth.  I opened my mouth slightly and her tongue
darted forward, surging deeper and looking for my own.
   The entire time, Suzan had kept a loose grip on me, even though my
member was straining hard against her hand.  She broke the kiss, after a
minute or so, to sit up and take a good look at what she'd pulled free from
my shorts.  A smile of delight slowly materialized on her lips as she
studied the object she now held with both hands.
   I wasn't a virgin, as I mentioned earlier, so Suzan wasn't the first
girl who'd ever held my cock in her hands, but that's about as far as
similarities went.  The girl whom I'd lost my virginity to, back in high
school, had been someone I'd known for years.  And, though we'd made love
to each other many times, I'd never had the chance to spend an entire night
sleeping in her arms.
   It had been less than 72 hours since Suzan and I had first glimpsed each
other, in that hallway.  We had already spent the night in bed, together,
waking in each other's arms to exchange the sort of kisses I'd only ever
dreamed about - the kind that made that other girl's kisses pale in memory.
And we were only partially clothed, with Suzan holding my cock and gazing
lovingly and longingly at it.  It was all happening so quickly; too
quickly, to my mind, and I thought that I ought to try and slow things
down, a bit, despite how much I wanted her.
   "I don't want to spook you, Suzan," I offered.  "I really like you...  I
think I might even lo -" I started to blurt out 'love,' but she cut me off
by placing her finger to my lips.
   "Shhhh, Tommy," she said.  "I can't tell you how glad I am, that you
feel that way.  I've felt the same thing, since the moment I first laid
eyes on you."
   Then, with a final loving smile, she lowered her head and took me slowly
into her mouth.
   The shock of it was astounding.  I'd had blow-jobs, before, from that
girl - Kelly was her name - I dated back in high school, and I'd thought
that hers were pretty good.  In those first five seconds, though, Suzan
took the experience to a whole 'nother level!  If Kelly's mouth had felt
'good' on me, Suzan's was pure, unadulterated heaven.  Her eyes were
riveted on mine, and a sort of...  well, 'communication' isn't the right
word for it, but I don't know a better one...  happened.  Whatever it was,
something passed between her eyes and mine, in that moment, and it was so
much stronger than mere words.
   A whole herd of thoughts stampeded through my brain, in those few
seconds, but only two stood out clearly.  The first was my realization that
this moment between Suzan and me was so far beyond my wildest dreams and
fantasies that it was almost surreal.  The second, though, was the 'sound'
of a 'dead slow' warning bell clanging for my attention, somewhere in the
back of my brain.  It took me a couple seconds to figure out what that was
all about because my 'little brain' had put things in override.
   "Suzan - " I moaned.  I hadn't intended to moan, but the feel of her
mouth on me wouldn't let the word come out any other way.
   Her fingertip touched my lips again, and she lifted her mouth from me
long enough to tell me, "Just relax and enjoy, Tommy."
   I took her hand in mine and slowly pulled her finger away from my lips.
With my other hand, I reached down and lightly stoked her cheek, then
lifted her chin with my fingertip.
   "Please, Suzan; don't," I pleaded.
   She raised her head and let me plop free of her mouth, a mixed
expression of confusion and disappointment spreading across her face.
   "You don't like it?" she asked, timidly.
   "Suzan, I loved it!" I told her.  "You have no idea how much I would
love for you to continue, how much I want to go further with you."
   "So, what's wrong, then?  Don't you like me?" she asked, tears appearing
at the corners of her eyes.
   "How could I not like you, and yet want to go further with you, Suzan?"
I asked her, smiling.  "I just think that we're moving a little too fast,
here.  I can't explain it, but I think we have something unbelievably
special, between us - "
   "I think so, too," she interrupted me.  "That's why I - "
   "Look, Suzan," I cut her off, "I don't want to ruin our relationship by
letting things go too fast.  I had a girlfriend, Kelly, in high school.  We
were knockin' boots by our second date -"
   "Knockin' boots?" she cut in.
   "Sorry; that's country slang for 'makin' love'," I explained.  "Anyhow,
we were just two teens goin' at it on a hot Texas night in the back of her
folks' van.  That first night I fell head over heels in love with her.  We
were a couple for about three months.  We did a whole lot of knockin'
boots, but then she up and dumped me for some other guy.  It really tore my
heart out and I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong."
   "That's so sad, Tommy," Suzan told me sympathetically.  "She must have
been pretty dumb, to dump a smart, good-looking guy like you, though."
   "Well, maybe - and - thanks for the compliment.  But here's the thing,
Suzan.  I came of age while living in a trailer park, and folks from a
trailer park - at least, in the South - get a certain 'stereotype stigma'
attached to them."
   "You're talking about that whole 'trailer trash' thing, right?"
   "Uh-huh," I nodded.  "Her family was kind of middle class, and my family
- well, we weren't.  Over time I have come to understand that we hadn't
spent the time to really get to know one another, yet.  Yeah, we knew each
other a while, but she didn't really to know get me, or what my goals in
life were, and I couldn't see things clearly enough to understand how
shallow she and her family were..."
   "You don't think I'm shallow do you?"
   "Oh, no.  Suzan!  Kelly was the shallow one.  She dumped me because she
and her folks thought it would lower her 'social image' if she was seen
hanging out with 'trailer trash'.  I'm just saying I beat myself up about
those mistakes a long time.  But I think they taught me a very valuable
lesson.  Now, I try really hard not to let my little head do all my
thinking, for me.  He's got a one-track mind, and is no judge of character.
Call me a romantic, but I'm falling for you hard and I don't want to cloud
my vision by going too fast.  Something tells me that I really don't want
to lose you.  I want us to really know one another - heart, mind, and soul
- before we know (I made quotation marks in the air, with my fingers, here)
one another, if you can understand that."
   Finally, her concerned gaze became a smile.  "Tommy, I'm a preacher's
daughter, remember?  Of course I understand what know (she duplicated my
'air-quotes') means!  But, thank you for saying it just that way.  That's
just ever SO sweet!"
   "I mean it, Suzan."
   She thought about that for a moment and then she opened up to me, at
last.
   "I guess I was moving a little too fast.  I'm sorry, I was pushy, Tommy.
I've had some disappointing experiences too.  Whenever a guy finds out that
I'm a preacher's daughter, he's history.  Preacher's kids get pigeonholed
too, you know?  People often think that we're different from other folks,
like we don't feel the same sort of passions and urges that 'normal' folks
feel.  They think that we only have sex when we want to make a baby, so
I'll be a virgin on my wedding night."
   "I can see that," I nodded.  "Guys can be pretty shallow, like that."
   "It's not just you guys," Suzan grinned wryly, shaking her head.  "Girls
get horny, too.  You guys have that...  thing, about thinking with your
little head'?  Well, women don't exactly have that kind of 'expression',
but we can get into situations where our bodies try to overrule our logic
and common sense, too.  With you guys, your pulse rises, and you start to
get erect.  With us, well, we get erections, too - our nipples, and our
clits.  And then, there's something that feels like a little electric
current, which zips back and forth between our nipples and our vaginas. 
When that starts up, believe me, we want sex, too!
   "Anyway, after I told you about my dad being a preacher, last night, I
got to thinking.  'Did I tell him that, too soon?  Did I give him enough
time to get to know me?' Suddenly, I was overcome with the fear and worry
that I might lose you unless I showed you that I was willing to...  well,
to go further with you, physically...  sexually.  Like I said, the majority
of the guys I've dated seem to become disinterested pretty quickly, if I'm
not ready to 'put out' for them!"
   Growing up in Texas, I must have heard Kenny Chesney's 'You Had Me From
Hello' at least a thousand times.  In that moment - hearing Susan's heart
expressed in words - I finally understood what the song meant, and I
borrowed Kenny's best line.  I mean, Picasso phrased it best, when he said,
'Good artists copy.  Great artists steal.'
   "You don't have to worry about that, Suzan.  Let's take it slow because,
you know, you had me from 'hello'." I smiled at her.  "I'm not going
anywhere."
   "So, maybe we could still try that kissing thing, again?" she asked. 
God she was so cute!
   "Yeah, that was kind of nice," I admitted, grinning at her.
   I pulled her close and we resumed our deep kisses.  There was still a
little groping, but much less.  Suzan's lips were soft and wet.  She was a
much better kisser than any of my previous girlfriends.  She was much more
passionate.  I could feel the bond between us growing.  The make out
session that ensued lasted quite a while.  I was really happy we'd slowed
things down.  Well, my big head was.  My little head was still yelling at
me, but I'd take care of him, later.
   It ended all too soon, as Suzan broke off the kisses.  She sat up and
gave me a big hug and a smile.  "I'd love to hang around and continue this,
but I've got to get to my apartment and get ready for class.  It's nearly
8:30!" she pointed at my clock.
   "So soon?"
   "We'll see each other in class and lab, silly," she said, as she stroked
my cheek.  "And, we'll see each other tonight."
   She took her clothes to the bathroom and got dressed.  As I pulled on my
own jeans, I was happy, sad and more than a little proud of myself for
interrupting things.  The happiness was winning slightly because I felt in
my heart it would allow us to succeed as a couple.  Her admission of how
deeply attracted she was, gave me confidence that I would have the strength
to wait.  She reappeared from bathroom and she paused by the door looking
at me.  Her head was tilted slightly and she had that knowing smile on her
face again.
   "What?" I asked.
   She came over and gave me a big hug.  Then she looked me straight in the
eyes, with her face just inches away, and softly said, "I just wanted to
say, Thank you.  You were right.  We weren't ready.  I really appreciate
your openness and honesty." That was followed by another wet kiss.
   Moments later, she was out the door and gone.  I couldn't believe the
series of events that had transpired over the last day.  It seemed almost
too good to be true.
   The rest of my day was kind of a blur.  Each class had held my attention
enough to stay productive but, during the free time in between, my mind
drifted back to dwell on the morning's events.  I remember thinking how
easy the calculus III pop quiz was.  My statics class was challenging, and
held me focused.  I had a quick snack at the student union, while I worked
to get my homework for my statics and calculus done and out of the way. 
Then I decided to go over my genetics homework again, and quickly
discovered that I wasn't paying it any real attention.  Any reference to
biology just sent my thoughts drifting back to Suzan.  She filled my
thoughts, even though I had taken care of the little head in the shower
that morning.
   Finally, as 3:00 PM neared, I made my way to genetics class.  I saw her
coming towards me in another cute blouse and jeans, her hips swaying ever
so gently as she walked.  Her hair was a radiant aura, or mandala, around
her face.  She wore just a light touch of lipstick, but no other make-up
that I could see.  She smiled at me when her light emerald eyes caught me
staring at her.  We headed to the back row of the class together, and sat
next to one another.
   We got back a set of homework and started into the next lesson.  We were
both very intent on the professor's words.  Between the two of us, we
answered the majority of the questions he put to the class during that
session.  Towards the end of the class he went over how the lab would
proceed, later that afternoon.  We were going to be performing several
manual iterations of the chemical reaction steps of Di-deoxy DNA
sequencing. Those particular steps form the basis of how automated lab
equipment currently performs DNA sequencing.
   The class ended early and we had a little over an hour before the lab
started.  Suzan and I found a quiet study area, and went over the material
one last time.  The session was less productive than the previous one, as
we kept making eye contact and touching hands.  I could smell her light
fragrance, due to our proximity, and wondered if she was having a similar
issue.  We broke shortly before the lab started, to use the restrooms.
   While we were apart I thought about how I had gotten to this point.  She
had initiated everything, so far.  She'd asked me to be her study partner,
then lab partner, and then, finally, there had been the contact that
morning...  I wasn't shy exactly, but I hadn't been the aggressor in any of
it.  It was kind of nice, a change of pace, to actually have a girl come
after me.  I finished emptying my bladder at the urinal and flushed.  With
my mind focused on my situation, I was oblivious to my surroundings, and
nearly ran into Professor Franklin as we arrived at the sinks
simultaneously.
   "You seem to be doing much better than I expected Mr.  Anderson," he
said, as he began washing his hands at the sink.
   I wasn't really sure how to respond to what felt like a kind of
left-handed compliment.  "Oh, uh - thanks, professor." His words pretty
much told me I'd been correct in my suspicion that he didn't think I
belonged in his class.
   "You seem to be helping out Ms.  Sanders.  I hope you can help her
master this material."
   Now, I wondered if maybe his first comment might have been praise. 
Also, I hadn't realized until that moment that Suzan had a last name.  'Of
course, she does,' I told myself.  'Everyone does, I just hadn't known it,
until that moment.
   Finally, putting the facts together, I told him, "Yeah, we're studying
together and want to be lab partners."
   "That's a good idea.  We will be working in pairs, for the labs.  It
also looks like the two of you might have some other common interests,
though still within the field of applied biology," he quipped.
   I laughed with him, as we exited the restroom.  During the first few
days of class, he'd been totally serious during his lectures.  Away from
the lectern, the professor apparently had a sharp wit and a sense of humor
- even if it was just a tad on the bawdy side.
   A rush of protectiveness came over me in that moment.  "We're taking
things slow," I assured him.  I really didn't want him getting the wrong
idea about Suzan.
   "Slow and steady wins the race," he said, with an approving nod.
   The lab went quickly.  Suzan and I worked well, as a team, both of us
having decided in advance which of us would handle what tasks, and all of
our prep work really paid off.  The results were exactly as we had
expected. We had completed the electrophoresis and gathered our data before
any of the other students.  We got some odd glances from the other students
as we finished up to leave.  Outside the room, Suzan and I agreed to meet
back at my apartment, around seven.
   I went back to the apartment and cleaned up again, not quite as
fanatically as the first night but I liked the positive feedback she'd
given me.  Then I called and ordered a pizza so we would have some food
while we worked.
   The doorbell rang, a little after seven.  I opened it to find the guy
from the Joe's Pizza Shop standing there, balancing a large box on his
hand, with the other outstretched.  "Here's your double-pepperoni pizza,"
he told me in a flat, bored-sounding voice.  "That'll be fifteen dollars."
   I handed him a twenty from my wallet and said, "Thanks; keep the
change."
   "Hey - thanks, man!  You have a great night!" he said, the bored look
turning to a bright smile as he handed me the box.
   "You, too," I replied, as I started to close the door.
   The night should be great.  I just hoped we could keep it slow and
steady.  Just as the door was nearly closed, Suzan was pushing on it. 
Reopening it, I saw she had her backpack slung over her shoulder.  I held
the door open with one hand, while holding the pizza box in the other. 
Suzan sashayed into the apartment, dropped her backpack on the table.
   In the kitchen, I opened the pizza and got a couple glasses of water. 
I'd already put out the bottles of oregano, garlic powder, and crushed red
pepper flakes, things I liked to add on my pizza.  Then I joined her at the
table and we ate while we went over our results and write-ups.  After we'd
both eaten - two slices, for her, and three, for me - I put the box in the
fridge and wiped the table so we wouldn't get our papers fouled.  Then we
got to work on finalizing the result tables and graphs in our lab
notebooks. Around nine, we'd gotten everything into pretty decent shape.  I
noticed that both her handwriting and her block printing were significantly
better than mine, and her grammar, as well.  She masterfully blended
appropriate use of passive voice to objectify results and active voice to
describe the actions taken during our experiments - something I was just
learning about, in my English course.
   I was just about to compliment her, when she said, "Your report has the
cutest style of writing, Tommy."
   "Huh?" I wasn't sure, but I thought it might be a joke.  "I'm still
working on my English.  Not everyone can write as beautifully as you, Suz."
That got me a little punch...  Note to self: Don't truncate Suzan's name.
   However, just moments later she scooted her chair caddy-corner to mine
and had me in an intense lip lock.  It was a little awkward, in the
straight-back chairs in which we sat but Suzan was definitely turning me
on, something fierce.  Her arms were tight around me and her hands were
caressing my back.  My hands were combing through her long, strawberry
blonde hair.  I brought some forward to my nose, inhaling deeply.
   Until that moment, I didn't know how much I had a thing for hair - or,
at least, the smell of it.  Hers smelled good.  There was no restaurant
odor, that night, to mask her scent - just pure, unadulterated Suzan.  The
scent didn't just remind me of my favorite feather pillow; there was
something else, there, I couldn't quite put to words.  It was definitely
enticing my hormonal response, so it was probably a pheromone.  However,
just giving it a technical name didn't really do it justice, either.  We
kissed and groped for a long while.  Our willpower kept things just on the
edge of exciting, without crossing the boundary.  Around ten we decided to
call it a night.  She was the one who noticed the time; I was completely
oblivious by then.  My brain was nearly in overload.
   "I'm working the lunch shift tomorrow, but I'm off for the rest of the
weekend."
   "We should do something that doesn't involve kissing, my lips are out of
practice," I joked.
   "Yeah, we should," she said, as she pushed my chest playfully.
   "How about if we have a picnic in the park and then take in a movie
tomorrow night?" I asked.
   "Okay.  You want to pick me up?"
   "Yes.  What time do you think you'll be ready?"
   "Probably by 3:00; they are usually slowed down by 2:00, and let us go."
   I walked her to her car again.  Opened her door and held her hand as she
got inside.  Then I ducked my head into the car door and gave her another
kiss.
   "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow."
   "Me too."
   The next day I slept in.  I kept having the best dreams.  One good one
would roll into the next.  All of them had something to do with Suzan.  I
finally awoke just past noon, but evidently I had needed the rest.  I
frequently found after learning lots of new stuff, reading or even lengthy
stressful events, I would go into hibernation mode the next couple days.
   After my shower, I did some laundry in the small, stacked washer-dryer
set in the utility closet of my efficiency.  It was the thing that'd sealed
the deal on my choosing this place.  The shared laundry facility, in the
dorms, had sucked; people kept taking my clothes.  Using the laundromat had
been worse.  I might have grown up in a double-wide, but public laundry
just plain weirded me out.  I wandered into the kitchen in my boxers to
make some simple sandwiches and wash up some fruit to take on the picnic. I
also set out some water bottles I had filled at the tap and got some
crackers.  It wasn't going to be anything fancy.  I just wanted to change
the venue a bit, to reduce our temptation.  Last night had been hard - pun
fully intended.  The memory of Suzan's lips on my cock was still too fresh,
and I didn't want the proximity of a bed to tempt either one of us to
renege on our agreement to wait awhile.
   When I'd finished making most of the preparations for the picnic, I
moved the laundry up to the dryer.  I passed the time, during the drying
cycle, playing a little on my guitar.  I couldn't play too loudly because
the neighbors would complain, so I went through a few of the softer country
tunes I liked.  I can't sing very well, but sometimes I try.  I kept coming
back to Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Susie-Q".  Yes, I definitely had
Suzan on the brain.  She - and an unidentified number of her roommates -
had been out, and she was on her way back to her apartment.  Her text
included her address.
   I pulled the warm shorts and a shirt from the dryer and changed into
them.  Gathering the items for the picnic into a brown paper bag, I headed
down to my Taurus.  The drive over to Suzan's was fairly short.  Her place
was in a decent apartment complex, where all of the two story buildings
were laid out in long rows.  I found her Corolla and parked next to it. 
Her apartment was toward the end of one of the buildings, and she met me at
the door in a terrycloth robe, just as I walked up the sidewalk.
   "Hey, I just got out of the shower when I saw you out the window.  I'm
about ready.  Come in and have a seat."
   Taking me by the hand, she gently pulled me through the doorway and into
a short entry hall that, in turn, opened into the downstairs portion of the
apartment.  It contained an eat-in kitchen, a small living room, and a
'powder room' - a small closet-sized area fitted with a sink and toilet.  I
understood, from talking with Suzan, that the upstairs contained four
bedrooms and two baths.
   I couldn't vouch for the upstairs, but the downstairs looked more like a
furnished apartment.  They had way more furniture than I did - but I guess,
with four girls living there, they could more easily afford the furniture.
Next to one of the two sofas, a scuffed and scratched guitar perched in an
old stage guitar stand.  I was about to go check it out, when one of her
roommates strode out from the kitchen area, clad in Daisy Dukes, a very
skimpy top, and - clearly - no bra.
   "Barb, this is Tommy.  Don't mess with him!" she said in a serious tone.
Then, she disappeared up the stairs.
   Barb rolled her eyes at Suzan's remark.  Then she stood there, studying
me for several moments.  I got a really odd vibe from her, but she finally
went upstairs without saying a word to me.  As I looked around, I could see
the apartment wasn't very tidy.  It wasn't so much a lack of proper
housekeeping, as it was, clutter.  I was a little surprised, but then as I
understood it there were four girls living there.  Suzan had described the
apartment as being 'four walk-in closets and two bathrooms.' Pack four
college girls into a tiny place like this one - with what most girls 'need'
to survive a long trip away from home, and there'd be bound to be more
'stuff' then there was, places to put it all.  I knew that my mother
couldn't even take an overnight weekend trip, without packing for or five
outfits, in case the weather changed, and a huge makeup kit and toiletries
bag.
   I looked around the room for a moment, finally picking the cleanest,
least-cluttered place to sit.  That happened to be the couch next to where
the guitar was standing.  Feeling a little restless, I reflexively reached
for the guitar.  The condition of the instrument only appeared to be bad;
in fact, most of the 'damage' I saw was purely cosmetic, the kind of scuffs
and scratches that come from long years of use without receiving any tender
loving care.  I took a closer look at the instrument, inspecting it for
cracks, poor joints, or other faults in construction, and found nothing
major.  The maker's name had long ago been worn off the headstock, so I
peered into the sound hole and was pleasantly surprised to see the familiar
C.  F.  Martin logo on the bit of paper glued to the inside back of the
guitar, together with a date that indicated that the guitar had rolled off
the Nazareth, Pennsylvania, factory's assembly line in 1980.
   Though it was okay, structurally, it was badly out of tune.  I spent a
few minutes tuning it by ear, and then strummed a few chords to check it
out.  The tone sounded excellent, and there was no 'fret buzz' on any of
the strings, from the nut to the bridge.  It wasn't a bad guitar, after
all. It had just seen a lot of use - or, perhaps, abuse - over the years.
   I heard a rustle across the room, and looked up to see Suzan standing at
the foot of the stairs.  She'd apparently been standing there, quietly
watching me, for a couple minutes.  She was dressed in a nice pair of khaki
shorts and a turquoise blouse that really picked up her emerald eyes.  She
smiled at me as she crossed the room and took a seat on the sofa, next to
me.
   "I should have known you'd play."
   "Yeah, I play a little," I said, as I played a few chords from
'Susie-Q.'
   "What made you pick that song, to play?" she asked, looking at me in
surprise.
   "I don't know," I shrugged, "except for the fact that your name is
'Suzan'."
   "Not counting 'Oh, Susanna', which is a like one hundred fifty years
old, and 'If You Knew Susie', which goes back to the 1920's, and Johnny
Cash's 'A Boy Named Sue', there are at least ten songs from the Rock and
Roll era that mention Suzanne, Susan, Susie, or Sue.  Why did you pick
'Susie Q' to play?" she persisted.
   "I really don't know, Suz," I answered her.  "It's just that something
about you makes me think of that song.  That's all, I swear."
   "Then, I guess our study sessions must have our brains syncing up with
each other," she laughed.
   "What makes you say that?" I asked her.
   "Well, I really am a 'Susie-Q'," she smiled at me.  "My middle name is
'Quinn'.  It was my mother's maiden name."
   "Oh - I didn't know that," I said.  "You never told me."
   "Well, I'm not terribly crazy about it, because it makes my initials
'SQS' - 'squeeze' - but it's my name, so there's nothing much I can do
about it," she sighed.
   "Well, when you finally find the right guy, maybe you'll get a different
last initial, at least," I suggested.
   "Yeah, right!" she snorted, laughing.  "And, if you turn out to be that
'right guy', then I'll be a 'SSA'."
   "But you'd still be my 'squeeze'," I retorted.
   "Your 'main squeeze', eh?" she smiled.  "I think I could get used to
that."
   "My only squeeze," I corrected her.  "The word, 'main', would mean
'primary', and infers the possibility of secondary or tertiary.  I'm a
one-woman kind of guy."
   "That makes me happy, Tommy," she said.  A cute smile formed on her lips
and she asked, "So why don't we take that guitar on our picnic; maybe you
could serenade me." Her face was gleaming.
   "It's your guitar?" I asked, surprised.
   "Yes, but I don't play very well - and I had to stop taking lessons
several months ago, when the teacher at the local guitar shop nearly
doubled his hourly rate.
   "Perhaps I could give you some pointers," I offered.
   "Would you?  That'd be great!" she said, enthusiastically.  "But, we
really ought to get going.  We're wasting daylight, and there are two other
nosy women in the kitchen who are bending an ear to hear what's going on,
in here.  I don't think we want an audience, do you?"
   "No!" I agreed.  "I didn't even know they were there," I added, dropping
my voice to a whisper.
   "Well, let's go."
   Out to the car, I opened the trunk with the key fob so she could deposit
the picnic blanket and her guitar in with the other items.  The look on her
face told me she was surprised about something.
   "What?" I asked.
   "Tommy, this car - it's - it's like new.  I don't think I've ever been
in a new car."
   "Oh, yeah - uh - my Dad.  He wanted to make sure I could get around and
probably wanted to make sure I'd come to see him."
   "He must really care about you," she said.  There was some underlying
tone there I didn't get and I didn't want to push it too much.
   I opened the passenger door for her and she got in.  She was clearly
wowed over the leather seats and interior components.  I closed her door
once her legs were in and got in on the driver side.
   "It's even got a USB connector and an AUX input for a phone or music
player," she marveled.
   "It sure made the long drive here, from Corpus Christi, nice.  It's not
new anymore,though; I've already put nearly ten thousand miles on it."
   "It screams 'road trip'!" she said and broke out laughing.
   I started the car and headed to a nearby park that I knew had picnic
tables.  The park was fairly active with people enjoying their Saturday
afternoon on this late August day.  We chose a table away from most, but it
was still far from private.  The table we picked had some shade, due to an
old, gnarled maple tree whose trunk must have been two feet across.  I put
a sheet on the table and set the paper bag out.  Suzan set the guitar
beside the table and began pulling things from the bag inspecting them.
   "I'd just made some simple stuff, hope it's okay," I said.
   "Of course," she said.  She sat down and unwrapped a tuna sandwich and
took a big bite.  "Mmm, just enough relish and mayo, not too much."
   "I didn't really get a chance to go shopping today, I totally slept in.
So, I made those quick," I admitted.
   "It's good, I wasn't being sarcastic.  Stop being so tense.  We're both
here for the same thing."
   "I'm sorry, Suzan.  It seems like I'm anxious with you around - like
that first day, when you introduced yourself.  I was all kinds of
tongue-tied."
   "I thought you were cute," she replied.
   "Honestly, I've never had even an 'average-pretty' girl walk up and
introduce herself to me, and then start a conversation - let alone a
drop-dead-gorgeous woman like you.  It just doesn't happen, to guys like
me."
   Suzan was blushing a little, "I know I'm attractive.  I've been told
that, time and again, since I was about ten, and I've finally accepted it -
reluctantly.  But being attractive is almost as much a curse, as it is a
blessing.  The guys with the egos - the ones who think that they're God's
gift to women - all seem to think that all they have to do is walk up and
say 'Hi', and the girl will swoon all over them."
   "Yeah, I've seen those guys; I just don't get why girls go for them."
   "Meanwhile, the truly NICE guys?  They all figure that a girl that
pretty is already 'taken', so they never even make a move."
   "I think I would have made a move, eventually," I offered.
   "Well, when I saw you looking at me, that first day, I read it in your
facial expression, and body-language.  I was pretty sure you'd love to walk
over and say 'Hello', but were intimidated by my looks."
   "I did, but I thought it might be too quick.  I wanted to pick a better
time."
   "Well, you made a really strong impression during our second class
together.  I just couldn't leave it to chance.  I had to find out if you
might be one of the nice guys.  I was worried you might never make the
move, or that some other girl would snag you away from me.  So I pounced!"
she exclaimed lightheartedly.
   "I'm forever in your debt," I replied sincerely.
   "We'll see," she teased.  "Really, though, I was okay with you being all
'tongue-tied', too.  I've seen it before.  It just verified my suspicion
that you one of the good-guys," she said
   We talked for the rest of the afternoon.  The time just flew.  We talked
about what we thought we wanted to do in life.  I explained how and why I'd
recently change my goals, which led to me telling her more about my family.
I didn't get into too many details about my Dad and Aunt, but enough that
she knew they lived together following their respective divorces.  I even
told her about some of my life in high school and living in the trailer
park.
   Suzan shared a little about all the different places remembered living:
Alexandria, Pittsburgh, Chicago, Boston, and Durham.  She'd lived in a
couple that she didn't really remember.  I could see how that much moving
could give a variety of different perspectives.  Especially the way she
explained how she often felt like an outsider, everywhere she moved.  It
set her up to be an observer and maybe why she was drawn towards the
sciences.  She was still avoiding saying much about her dad, but I
understood that.
   She had me play guitar for her, for a while.  Then she showed me what
she'd learned in her lessons.  She had just begun taking them when she was
a freshman.  I gave her a few pointers, which was a very 'hands-on'
session. We made out a little, but not too much groping; people were around
and walking passed us periodically.
   Around dusk I said, "I looked up a few movies at the dollar movie place.
I haven't seen much of anything in a theater."
   "I took a look too, it is the same for me.  Movies are a luxury our
family didn't take.  There was one about a time traveler."
   "The Time Travelers Wife?"
   "Yeah, it seemed interesting, but I'm up for whatever you like," she
said.
   "I thought about that one too, let's go give it a look."
   We packed our stuff back in the trunk and drove over to the cheap movie
place.  Their money was clearly made on the concessions.  We opted to just
get drinks.  The movie was pretty decent.  Suzan really liked it.  We held
hands the entire time.  The ending was sad and Suzan had some tears welling
up.
   "Sorry, I didn't know it was a sad one," I told her once we were back in
the car.
   "It was good.  Romantic and sad."
   Over the next few weeks we kept things on a very even keel.  Our BIO
class was going great.  Suzan and I had both gotten A's on the first test.
Professor Franklin had put nice comments on both our tests.  My other
courses were going great, as well.  I spent most of my weeknights studying
for them and left Thursday and Friday for working with Suzan.  Although, we
had also started doing our other homework and study in my kitchen, too.
   Our weekend dates gave us more time to get to know each other.  Suzan
even rearranged her work schedule, so she was off every weekend.  We went
to some of the film noire showings, on campus, as they were free.  We
visited the museum of life and science.  We took a day trip, hiking on some
trails around Pilot Mountain, an extinct volcano about an hour and a half
from the university.
   We were getting along fabulously.  We were constantly kissing and
petting and, though those 'other' desires were always lurking in the back
of our minds, we managed to avoid giving in to those temptations.  We both
realized there was too much at stake, to take the risk.  We knew all kinds
of things about one another: things we liked or disliked, our hopes and
desires, musical tastes, reading interests, and probably a hundred other
things.
   Eventually, we'd reached the point where we'd seen each other on good
days and bad, in fair moods and foul, and nothing had changed the way we
related to each other, except, perhaps, to deepen the love we'd already
developed.  About the time I realized that, I decided that it was time for
us to take that next step in our relationship.  I knew that I couldn't love
her any more than I already did, even if I tried.  For her part, Suzan had
occasionally dropped little comments to me, alluding to a similar
realization.  She'd also dropped a few subtle hints that, whenever I was
truly ready, she was quite willing to pick up where we'd left off, that
very first Friday morning.
   Still, I wanted to do something to make it a truly memorable occasion,
for both of us - not that our first time, making love, wouldn't be
memorable.  I knew it would be, but I wanted 'special', not merely closing
our textbooks and strolling back to my bedroom, something a bit on the
'exotic' side, something...
   During the last week of September, the inspiration came to me.  We were
driving home from another one of our frequent picnics, and Suzan was
'gushing', once again, over my Taurus.  It seems that the 'stigma' of a
pastor driving around in a 'posh' new car or appearing to live anywhere
except on the ragged edge of poverty, that had first appeared in the 'Jim
Bakker' scandal days of the mid-1980's, had never truly died.  Thus,
Suzan's father had always opted for cars that were several years old,
though in serviceable condition, and which did not sport the 'luxury
package items' of higher-end cars.  The bells and whistles that came
standard with my Taurus had never ceased to fascinate her.
   The whole incident reminded me of that first time I took her anywhere,
in the car, when she told me that the vehicle simply 'screamed road trip. I
knew, in that moment, that whatever the 'special' time was, that I planned
for us, it would involve a road trip.  But, where to?  After a bit of
pondering, I thought about the beach.  I'd driven down to Myrtle Beach, one
Saturday, in the late spring of my freshman year.  It was an easy drive,
long enough to be a road-trip, but short enough not to be either tiring or
boring.
   I did some checking, online, and found that the October temperatures for
Myrtle Beach would be quite pleasant, overall.  The water might be a tad
cooler it would be, if we drove farther south, but this was an optimization
problem that I figured I could solve.  Going farther south, we'd be
swapping the extra driving time for warmer temperatures, which didn't come
at a very favorable exchange rate.  For one thing, with the warmer water
temperatures, there also came a greater tourist influx, thus creating
higher demands for hotel rooms - thus upping the cost per night, of a
visit. It would also cost us extra in gas, there and back, plus cut down on
the time that we had, to enjoy being at the beach.  All in all, we'd get a
much nicer room for our money, at Myrtle, and have more time to enjoy our
stay - which was my primary reason for the trip.
   I made tentative reservations at a place that had good reviews on the
Internet, and then it was time to tell Suzan of my plans.  I decided to
wait until after Suzan and I had completed our normal Thursday evening
pre-lab study session, to suggest the trip to her.  She'd be busy, much of
the time between Sunday night and Thursday evening, so I wouldn't be seeing
much of her, anyway, except in class.  And, if I brought it up first thing,
on Thursday evening, and she was at all enthusiastic about it, we'd most
likely lapse into discussing the trip and never get any studying done.
   This week's lab looked to be pretty simple.  We had become quite an
efficient team in preparing our setup.  At times, she would always show me
something I hadn't seen or thought about.  At other times, it was the other
way around.  When we were done, I decided it was time to spring my little
surprise on her.  I cleared our books and papers from the table, out of the
way, refilled our sodas, and returned to sit across from her.
   "Hey - so - it looks like this lab write up is going to be pretty easy.
I was thinking maybe we could - - um - I don't know, say - um - finish it
up at the beach.  What do you think?" Of course, I waited to do so until
she was taking a sip from her soda.
   "What do you mean, finish it up at the beach?" she coughed and
sputtered, catching me - and the table - with the spray of carbonated
liquid.
   "Well, you've commented a couple times on how my car simply 'screams' to
be taken on a road trip, so I figured that it was about time.  Myrtle Beach
is only about a three-hour drive, from here, and it'll still be really nice
weather, there, for another three weeks.  I was thinking that we might go
this weekend, if you're at all interested.
   "I love the beach!  That'd be great!" she chortled with glee.  "But, can
we get any kind of decent hotel reservations, on such short notice?  It'd
be a real bummer, to plan a trip and have no place to stay."
   "That's why I already made the reservations," I told her quickly, as
felt my smile trying to break through.  "Seventh floor, perfect view of the
ocean.  We could leave tomorrow night, right after the lab and be there by
about 11:00 PM."
   "Sunrise at the beach?  Hmm, I'm SO glad you told me after we saw how
easy this lab was going to be.  I might have turned you down, otherwise,"
she said, as she tried to conceal her glee.
   "Yeah, I can tell!" I couldn't hold back any more and I laughed.  "You
would've had zero interest."
   "Yep, you sure do know me - all study - all the time."
   Her giggling was suddenly unrestrained, and then she burst out laughing.
It was contagious and I loved to hear her laugh.  We were both in knots for
the next couple of minutes.
   When we regained our senses, I said, "We should leave right from the
university.  I could pick you up, in the morning, so you don't have to
leave your car on campus."
   It was all agreed.  After I saw her off, I came back into the apartment,
got on the phone, and confirmed the deal I'd booked on a condo rental right
on the beach.  Room rates for the second weekend in October were pretty
low. The ocean-facing room was on the seventh floor, so we would have a
great view.  I spent another hour or so, loading up a thumb drive with
tunes I knew we would both like.  Finally, I packed a duffel bag with swim
trunks, underwear, socks, shorts, a couple polo shirts, and then a decent
pair of pants and dressier shirt.
   The next day flew past.  I met her at her apartment, early enough to get
her to her ethics class.  She had a small suitcase, which I put in the
trunk.  She was nearly giddy with anticipation, when I dropped her off, and
a few of her fellow ethics students got a good chuckle out of the
passionate, extra-long lip-lock she laid on me before sliding out of the
passenger seat.  We met back at the BIO class, and then went to do our lab.
We stayed a little later than we usually did, and actually turned in our
lab books at the end of the lab, we had been so prepared.  The great thing
about that was that there would be no pressure to work on anything, over
the weekend.  We were free.
   We started out for Myrtle Beach at just after six-thirty.  The first
part of the trip was on highway 147.  Suzan played the part of copilot,
managing the music and GPS.  Turned out she'd brought her own thumb drive
of music.  She'd picked a fair portion of it just for me, based on my
tastes, and she had way more than three hours' worth.  There was lots of
beach music, like the Beach Boys, Jimmy Buffett, and several Kenny Chesney
songs - like "Guitars and Tiki Bars" and "Key's In The Conch Shell", that
had a "beach" feel.  There was also a random mixture of rock that she
liked, and country that she knew I liked.  There was one song that came up
at least twice before we got on I-95.  I knew she liked Coldplay, and I had
started to enjoy their music, as well.  The song, 'One I Love', seemed to
carry extra meaning, and I caught her glancing over at me several times,
when it was playing.
   Not too far down I-95, I pulled off to get a fast food meal and use the
facilities.  We were about an hour out from Myrtle Beach, when I noticed
she'd nodded off.  I let her sleep; she was just lovely.  I hoped things
would work.  I was pretty sure we were ready, but how do you know?  It felt
right and it didn't feel like the little guy was speaking.  When I arrived
at the place, we had to go through a guard gate to get registered.  I left
her in the car and locked it with the fob.
   Back in the car, I found the parking deck.  Yeah, I had to find it; it
was pretty dark, and I hadn't been to this place, before.  It was a complex
with lots of little houses away from the beach and then a long tower that
faced the beach according to the map they gave me.  I hadn't ever been to
the beach on the Atlantic only the Gulf of Mexico.  I found us a decent
spot in the parking deck and got one of the luggage trolleys.  When it was
loaded, I opened her door and woke her gently.
   "Mmmm, I'm sorry." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.  "We're here?"
   "Yes, ma'am.  May I assist you?" I asked holding my hand out to aid her
out.
   "Thank you, Tommy."
   She held my arm as we found the elevator and I rolled the trolley in
front of us.  The room was older, but very well kept.  Entering, we found a
very nice one-bedroom apartment.  There was a fold out couch, a kitchen,
laundry closet (bigger than mine), and a very nice recently remodeled
bathroom with a big walk-in shower.
   "What do you think?" I asked her.
   "This will be perfect!"
   In the bedroom was a king size bed.  We dumped the items off the
trolley.
   "I'll be right back," I told her.
   Taking the trolley back meant I had to roll it all the way back outside.
I took it back down to the elevator, waited for it to arrive, rode it down
to the ground floor and put the trolley back in the corral.  Then I had to
wait again for the elevator to come back.  I must have been gone nearly ten
minutes 'cause, when I got back to the room Suzan was in bed with her
nightgown on.  She was stunningly beautiful, and I couldn't believe my luck
in having met her.  I went to brush my teeth and get ready to join her.  I
knew she was serious about seeing that sunrise at the beach, but I wondered
if she was having some of that hibernation thing I was experiencing.
   Morning came quickly.  Suzan was shaking me gently awake.
   "Let's go down on the beach," she coaxed me.
   "Okay."
   We both got up and dressed.  This morning, Suzan only partially hid
herself from me.  She dressed with her back to me, but in the room with me.
I followed suit.  We were down on the beach before the sun came up, walking
hand in hand at the water's edge.  The water was pretty chilly and I
suspected that we might not swim in the ocean this weekend.
   She found the spot she wanted, to await the sunrise, and we sat hand in
hand on the cool sand.  She would periodically give me a kiss or hug, but
was intent upon seeing the sun break.  The sun crested very slowly.  Once
it had pushed about half its disk above the horizon, Suzan sang a little of
a Cat Stevens song 'Morning Has Broken'.  Her voice was so clear and
beautiful, it nearly brought tears to my eyes as I sat there, just
listening to her.  She stopped after the first verse and hugged me close.
   "Thanks for suggesting this.  I know I keep saying the same thing, but
it it's just perfect."
   "I'm glad we came.  I don't know if we can swim in the ocean or not, but
they have several pools here and a few hot tubs."
   "It's fine, Tommy.  I just love the beach, any time of year.  It clears
my mind and relaxes me."
   After the sun was fully up, we strolled on the beach, stopping
occasionally to collect a few sea shells exposed by the tide, as mementos
of our trip.  Suzan's swimsuit was more revealing than I'd realized in the
dimly lit bedroom.  The angle of the rising sun revealed a lovely figure.
The cool morning air had stiffened her nipples and they had me staring,
periodically.  Suzan caught me looking several times, but just smiled a
very knowing at me.
   When the sun had gotten much further into the sky we ventured into the
ocean to our knees.  The water was just too cool for us.  We decided to try
later in the afternoon, but for now we'd go to the pool.  The pool was
lightly heated and used salt water with just a bit of chlorine.  It
reminded me of Dad's, although it was much larger.
   There was only one couple in the pool area when we arrived.  There were
older but they looked happy and in decent shape.  I noticed Suzan studying
them as we waded and played.
   "What is it?" I whispered when we were on the opposite side of the pool
from them.
   "Nothing, they just look happy."
   "Yeah, they do."
   The message to me was clear despite the fact she hadn't spoken her
thoughts.  She was imagining us, like that, some day in the future.  I
wondered.  It was really too far off for me to fully comprehend.  We both
had school to finish.  I kept thinking I might want to go to graduate
school.  We just needed to take it slow, a day at a time.
   Around noon, we went to the little restaurant bar at the resort.  We got
some crab dip and crackers that was pretty good, and some virgin strawberry
daiquiris.  As we ate, at a table by the pool, more people began appearing.
It never really got crowded, but there were more folks than I'd expected.
When we finished eating, I suggested we might want to get some sunscreen. I
didn't have any, and Suzan hadn't brought any, either.  We went back up to
the room and put on shorts and shirts over our swimsuits.
   I drove us to one of the many beach stores along the main drag.  Inside
I got a can of spray-on sunscreen and four really big beach towels.  Suzan
picked up a few souvenir items with lighthouses on them.  As we headed back
to the resort, I spotted a nice restaurant.
   I asked, "Can you remember that name for me?"
   "That restaurant?"
   "Yes.  I want to take you some place nice for dinner."
   "That place is too expensive.  You're already spending too much."
   "I am very thrifty.  The room isn't nearly as expensive as you think. 
I've actually been doing better than I'd expected, in my little efficiency.
Not eating on campus is saving me money.  Their meal plans seem like a
deal, but I can make things cheaper.  I only splurge occasionally, for
takeout food." Mostly when Suzan came over.  I wasn't a great cook.
   "Okay, you win, but I want to contribute to the trip financially,
somehow," she insisted.
   "We'll see," I said.  I was grinning ear to ear.  There was no way I was
letting her pay or know what I'd spent.  But maybe I could let her buy
lunch tomorrow before we drove home.
   Back at the resort, we went directly to the beach.  I locked my wallet
in the glove compartment.  We had towels and sunscreen and our bathing
suits on underneath our clothes.  It was nearing the hottest part of the
day.  The sand was nice and warm, on our feet, as we came off of the
boarded walkway over the sand dune.
   I found a nice spot and spread out two of the large beach towels.  Then
I stripped off my clothing.  Suzan did the same.
   "Okay, stand here and I'll spray you," I said.  Suzan had a funny little
smirk on her face.  "You're bad."
   "I can't help it.  Your words often have these cute little undertones in
them."
   "It wasn't intentional, that time," I said unconvincingly.
   I liberally sprayed her down so she wouldn't get burnt.  Then I hit the
high spots on myself.  I tanned pretty easy.  In spite of my blond hair, my
skin tone took more after my Dad than my Mom.
   "I'm going in no matter how cold it is," I told her.  "You don't have to
come, but it's the beach; I've got to go."
   "I'm coming, too," she said with another grin forming on her face.
   We took each other's hands and started out into the water.  It wasn't
all that bad, after the initial shock wore off.  The water had warmed,
some, from earlier in the morning.  There were kids and some adults wading
so, it had convinced me we could do it.  I was glad we did.  The water over
the sandbar was almost warm.  Suzan and I spent the next few hours trying
to ride waves.  The waves here were much larger than in the Gulf.  It was
making me think of a summer trip, a trip that would include Suzan.
   Several times in the water we held each other and I could feel the
tension growing.  We were playing, swimming, talking, kissing, and groping.
It was wonderful.  As the afternoon grew on, the groping went over the line
several times.  She'd had her hand in my pants, and I'd had mine inside her
top, several times.  Of course, we were out chest-deep, so there was
nothing that anyone would be able to see, but they could probably guess.
   Before things got out of hand I said, "Let's go and get changed for
diner."
   Back in the room I let Suzan go first in the shower.  She went in with
her clothes.  I heard the water turn on and decided I'd look up the
restaurant.  I phoned them up to make reservations and they told me I
didn't need them, but took my name anyway.  Just as I got off the phone
Suzan reemerged in a nice skirt and blouse.
   I took my turn.  I quickly showered with the nice soap and shampoo they
had in there.  Suzan's scent was strong in here and I wondered how far we
might go tonight.  I dried, shaved and got dressed.
   When I reappeared with my nice pants and collared shirt she commented,
"Don't you look handsome!"
   "Well, you look just gorgeous, so I think we make a nice pair.  You
ready?"
   With that, we were off.  The restaurant had a nice deck, and the hostess
sat us right next to the railing so that we could hear the ocean waves
crashing in.  After the waitress had handed us our menus and gone off to
fetch our drinks, Suzan took a look at her menu and her eyes got really
big. The prices on the meals were a little high, but they were well within
the range I'd expected.  When the waitress reappeared to take our order,
Suzan ordering lightly.  I ordered some appetizers and got a platter.
   When the waitress left, I told Suzan, "Look; I planned on this.  It's
your turn to stop worrying."
   She relaxed and smiled at me lovingly.  "Thank you.  I love you."
   And there it was.  "I love you, too." I reached across our table and
took her hand.  "I mean that, with all my heart."
   The meal was delicious, and the portions were actually fairly large, and
Suzan ate some of mine.  Suzan's whole 'financial worry' issue was
bothering me, until I suddenly remembered what she'd told me about her
parents.  Suzan's father was a pastor.  Pastors get paid out of whatever is
left from the weekly offering, after the building expenses are paid.  I
guessed that, unless he was the pastor of one of those huge mega-churches,
with several thousand members, the paychecks might be kind of slim.
   I didn't know how poor her family had been, but I'd obviously
experienced a bit of both poverty and modest comfort in my lifetime, so I
had a bit of understanding.  My dad had taught me how to budget for things,
and I used a finance program to plan for things and keep track of my
spending.  I'd put in an estimate of $700 for this trip and, thus far, we
were well under budget.  I didn't want Suzan to worry about all this so
much that it ruined the trip for her.
   We finished before the sun went down and headed back to our room. 
There, we perched out on the balcony to watch the last of the daylight
disappear and catch the moon's rise.  Standing at the railing on the
balcony, I gazed into Suzan's eyes.  I heard myself saying those words,
again, and they never felt truer.
   "I love you, Suzan."
   "I love you, too, Tommy," she answered, stepping into my open arms.
   A moment later, we were locked in a deep, passionate kiss.  My arms went
around her back and my hand dropped to her bottom.
   Suzan broke the kiss and whispered, "You better tone that down, mister.
Today has been absolutely magical, and you have no idea what your kisses
and hands are doing to me, right now."
   "I was thinking that I actually did have a pretty good idea," I smiled.
"But, why don't you tell me, so that I can be certain."
   "They're making me want to rip your clothes off, throw you onto that
king-sized bed, and make mad, passionate love to you until the sun comes
over the horizon again."
   "Would it surprise you to know that that's exactly what I was hoping
for?"
   Suzan's breath caught in her throat, for a moment.  "Are you sure,
Tommy?" she asked me.
   "As sure as I've ever been, of anything," I nodded firmly.  "There's
just one little problem..."
   "What's that?"
   "Believe it or not, in all my planning for this weekend, I forgot to
pack any condoms..."
   "You won't need them, baby," she laughed quietly into my ear.  "I've
known all along, what I felt for you, but I was ready to wait until you saw
it, too.  In the past, I avoided any form of birth control - except with
one guy.  I know my moods, and I've never trusted condoms, because they can
rupture too easily.  And I've heard too many horror stories, about IUD's,
to feel safe using one of those.  That basically meant that it wasn't safe
for me to be with any guy, and that was my big 'safety net'.  There's no
way I wanted to risk getting pregnant - and blowing college and my future
down the drain - just for the sake of a roll in the hay."
   "That doesn't tell me why I won't need a condom, honey," I said, as I
touched her cheek.
   "When I met you, I knew in my heart that you were THE ONE.  There was
just something about you.  A couple days after we had that talk about
waiting, I went to a doctor and got a prescription for The Pill.  I didn't
know when you'd finally see the light of reason, about us, but I wanted to
be ready - and I didn't want to have anything come between us when it
happened - least of all a silly piece of latex..."
   "So...?"
   "So take me back into the room, and make me your woman, Tommy.  Now, and
forever..."
   We moved into the room and pulled the drapes.  All my worries faded away
as we resumed our kissing.  Suzan began unbuttoning my shirt.  Once done,
she pushed it off of my shoulders and ran her hands across my chest.  I
finally had to break the kiss, so that I could assist her out of her
blouse, and discovered that she'd worn a sheer black lacy bra.  It was the
ultra-sexy sort that I'd only seen in the Victoria's Secret catalogs that
kept coming to the apartment.  I'd guiltily kept the current month's
edition since it was addressed to the former occupant but included or
Current Occupant and those don't get forwarded.  Her pink nipples pressed
pertly against the transparent silky fabric.  I searched for the expected
hooks in back, but failed to find them.  I fumbled with the front, for a
moment, but was once again stumped.  Suzan finally giggled, with a trace of
amusement, and came to my rescue.
   "Here's the trick, Tommy," she smiled, gripping the front just between
those luscious breasts.  "Just give it a twist, like this..." She
demonstrated the motion, and suddenly both cups fell away to reveal her
aroused breasts.
   After feeling kind of dumb, I realized Suzan had not shown the slightest
trace of annoyance with my inexperience.  Her bra was a type I hadn't seen,
before.  I'd only been intimate with that one girl, back in high school. 
Her breasts had been pretty large, and she'd only worn those heavy
'support' bras, with three or four hooks on the back.  Suzan's petite
breasts didn't need such support.
   Of course, all thoughts of embarrassment, or my inexperience, vanished
instantly when she took me in her arms and began kissing me again.  The
feel of her naked breasts on my own bare chest induced a full-body tingle
that ran from my toes all the way to the top of my head.  My hands began
tracing up and down her sides, at her waist.
   A low, throaty moan from Suzan suggested that she found our contact thus
far to be eminently pleasing, and so I decided to move my hands a little
higher - so that they brushed the sides of her breasts.  That contact
caused goose-bumps, and a little shiver to course through her body as it
pressed against mine.  I guess the shiver was because I was tickling her,
because she stopped me and directed my left hand to cup her small, pert
breast.  There, she pressed my hand against her with her own hand.  A
moment later, my right hand found that breast's twin, and I began to cup
and caress each, gently, opening my fingers to let her erect nipples pass
between them as they fanned across.  In response, Suzan hungrily sucked my
tongue into her mouth while softly rubbing the growing bulge in my crotch.
I was already in a fairly excited state.
   Our standing position wasn't the best place to do what we were doing. 
Suzan must have been thinking along the same lines, as she encouraged me
towards the bed.
   She didn't need to convince me; I was just stunned by her beauty.  She
was kind, and patient, with my relative inexperience.  She gave without
asking.  She was so much more mature and intelligent than any of the girls
I'd known or dated, back in Austin.  I might have been helping her with her
studies, but she had a different take on so many things, and that helped
give me a different perspective.  Her beauty pervaded her entire being. 
She made me want to be a better version of myself.  She had enchanted me
from my first glimpse of her, in that hallway, before the first genetics
class.  The weeks had flown past and, now, it seemed we were finally going
to give ourselves to one another without hesitation.
   Suzan stopped at the foot of the bed and tugged my pants down.  I kicked
the dress slacks to the side of the bed and then assisted her out of her
skirt.  I found myself kneeling in front of a cute black thong that had
curls of strawberry blonde pubic hair peeking around its edges.  My face
was just inches away and her aroma was intoxicating - so much so that I
buried my face in her crotch and inhaled her scent deeply.  Suzan's hands
were in my hair as I pressed her back onto the bed.  I continued to sniff
and lick her through the thong for a time.
   Suzan's squirming brought me back to my senses and I continued with my
slow undressing of her.  Kneeling in front of her, I lifted each foot one
at a time and removed her black flat shoes.  Suzan rested on her elbows as
she watched me remove each sock and then turn my focus to her thong.
   "Can I take this off?" I asked, as I tugged gently at the slender
elastic waistband of the thong.
   She smiled wickedly and answered.  "Of course."
   Chuckling to myself, I eased the thong down over her hips as she lifted
her bottom, slightly, to help me move the skimpy garment farther. 
Suddenly, I was left gazing directly at her neatly groomed pubis.  The hair
above her vulva was about an inch long, curly, and a perfect color-match
for the hair on her head.  Below her mons, however, she was neatly
depilated.  Her lower lips were puffy and parted, and glistening with the
dew of her arousal and some saliva that I'd left behind.  My mouth was
drawn to kiss them again without the covering.  Her wetness tasted stronger
and I found myself kissing her lips more deeply.  Suzan was moaning softly
as my tongue traced the outer lips.  The sounds just encouraged me further
and I moved to lick her inner lips, which made her tremble slightly.
   "Mmmm, Tommy!  You're making me so wet!" she exhaled.
   Her praise made me a little bolder, and I took her entirely into my
mouth while pressing my tongue deeply into her.  Suzan's fingers were in my
hair, alternately gripping and stroking.  My focus remained intensely on
her inner lips, and on sucking the continuing wetness that flowed from her.
Her musky taste enthralled me, and I lapped at her wantonly.  The little
sounds she made, deep in her throat, were music to my ears.  When I passed
over her emerging clitoris, Suzan pressed my head down lightly.
   "Oh, yesssss, right there, Tommy!" she extolled me, as she began to
gently quiver continuously.
   I increased my focus on her elongated clit, and her excitement mounted -
as did the intensity of her quivering.  I plunged my tongue into her
repeatedly until I felt she would soon be able to take now more.  I could
sense her abdomen beginning to undulate so finally, I worked a couple
fingers inside her and began I rubbing her lightly, inside, as my tongue
worked her button on the outside.  Suzan's climax wracked her body
suddenly.
   "Oh, God, yes, Tommy!" she shouted.
   Her fingers tightened in my hair as her undulations became bucking.  Her
hips bucked as she forced herself against my mouth and tongue.  Her vaginal
muscles gripped my fingers as I continued to work them in and out at an
increased speed.  Wave after wave of ecstasy gripped her lithely undulating
body.  When, at last, she settled, she was panting heavily and her legs
came to rest upon my shoulders.  I continued to kiss her beautiful lips,
but withdrew my fingers so she could recover.  She slowly released her grip
on my hair and looked down at me with her face looking slightly dreamy.
   "That was SO awful.  I really think I'm going to have to have you do it
again and again, until you get it right," she giggled.  Her tight little
tummy bounced lightly with her mirth.
   "I'm not sure you could lie still for that," I teased her, in return, as
I removed myself from beneath her legs.
   I slid up beside her, on the bed, and we embraced each other tightly. 
Our mouths joined, and her tongue slipped past her lips and sought mine. 
We kissed for a long moment, and then she pulled back slightly to look me
in the eye.
   "I lied, you know," she told me.
   "That's not an auspicious admission, from a pastor's daughter," I told
her, in mock concern.  "So, what did you fib, about?
   "A minute ago, when I said that you were awful," she smiled.  "Tommy,
I've only been with one guy, and you were way better than he could ever
hope to be..."
   "I'll still do it, again and again," I smiled back at her, "whenever you
ask me to.  I loved it."
   "What part did you like?" she asked me, cocking her head to the side and
raising an eyebrow.
   "Everything," I told her.  "I loved the feel of you, and the scent of
you, and you tasted like the nectar of the gods.  You're vagina is so
beautiful, I could just eat you all night."
   "I've never tasted myself, on a guy, until now.  It's not bad, really -
and I'm very glad you like it so much.  Now, was there anything else you
liked?"
   "Mostly, I loved the fact that I could pleasure you so much with my
mouth and fingers."
   "That was soooo good, Tommy," she sighed.
   "Why?"
   "That other guy?  He only did that to me because I begged him, and he
made a face about it, the entire time.  I think he must have been one of
those real men don't eat pussy types."
   "His loss," I chuckled.  "Though, I don't know where I stand, on the
real men scale, because I've never thought to check."
   "You're my man, Tommy, and that's the only thing I care about!" she
informed me with a fierceness in her voice that warmed my heart.
   "Now, honey, the night is passing, and there are so many other
interesting things for us to try, and do..."
   "Such as?" I goaded her, giggling.
   Suzan's free hand was seeking out my groin.  She soon found her prize,
but it was still encased by my cotton briefs.  Her delicate fingers traced
my manhood playfully, through the soft material.  As our kissing
intensified, Suzan slipped her hand inside the waistband of my briefs.  The
contact gave my heart a jump.
   "You'll soon see, darling," she cooed.  "Meanwhile, one of us is still
slightly overdressed, and it's not me!"
   Before I knew what was happening, she was the one kneeling between my
legs and her hands were alternately tugging the sides of my underwear until
they were coming down.  My overexcited and fully engorged cock flipped up,
smacking against my abdomen as my briefs released me.  I was in a daze,
just watching her wriggle them past my knees and then feet.  Suzan was on a
mission.  After she tossed my briefs aside, she climbed back between my
legs, and stretched herself full-length on the mattress, to inspect me more
closely.
   "Your blond treasure trail is so cute," she commented demurely.
   She lightly traced the path of my pubic hair to its end, with her
finger, and suddenly engulfed me in her mouth.
   "Jeez," I exclaimed, surprised.
   The interaction was intense and short.  She had taken almost my entire
length and worked me with her tongue and throat.  But it was over as
quickly as it had started.  She had apparently only done this to get me wet
and slippery.  She released me with a plopping sound and my dick was
thickly coated in her saliva.
   "I've been wanting to have this since I saw you staring at me in the
hall," she admitted.  Rising to her knees, she straddled forward and
maneuvered her strawberry blond cunny directly above me, driving herself
downward on my shaft in one swift motion.
   "Uhh, oh, it's so nice, Tommy!"
   "Oh my gawd!" I exclaimed at the same time.
   I looked down to see our bodies joined.  The sight of our pubic hair
smashed together, with her impaled completely on me, was absolutely
exhilarating.  She remained firmly like that while a shivering spasm rocked
the rest of her body.
   Her pink nipples were easily accessible, with her atop me, and my hands
were drawn to her firm breasts.  After cupping them for several moments, I
raised my head and upper body so I could take one of them into my mouth.
   "Huhhhh," she sucked a gasp of air in as I gently suckled upon her teat.
   Then, the stimulation seemed too much for her, and she pushed me
backwards to a reclining position.  She was still quivering, slightly, as
she adjusted to my penis.  Her hands remained on my chest as she lifted
herself up lightly.  I watched her rising up amazed to see her inner lips
cling to my shaft as she rose upward.  The sheen of her fluid glistened on
the visible portion of my shaft.
   Suzan's body had a definite hourglass shape, and I drew my hand around
her fit abdominal area to take up new positions atop her gently curving
hips.  I resisted the strong urge to force her back onto me, but I felt the
need to grasp her, while I let her drive.  The curve of her hips always
excited me and now that I had her atop me I just loved how they felt in my
hands.
   The tip of my cock was nearly out of her when she reversed direction and
slammed down onto me, suddenly.  The shock of it startled me nearly as much
as the first time, and drew another moan from me, "Ahhh!"
   Over the next several minutes, she continually repeated this motion of
gently easing me nearly out as she rose up, only to rapidly drive herself
downward and reinsert me.  It was a lovely, slow torture that she stretched
out for the longest time.  The motion morphed into that more continuous
abdominal undulation that gently worked my cock inside her.
   "God, your cock feels so good, inside me, Tommy," she rasped.
   "Ohhhh, yesss," I managed to moan in agreement with her.
   I didn't know how long I was going to last, like this.  Her command of
me was pushing me to the edge too quickly.  My hands on her hips now guided
her to slow down.
   Suzan opened her closed eyes smiled broadly at me.  "You okay?" she
asked mischievously.
   "Yeah, but I want it to last," I panted, as my hips rose to meet her
strokes.  "We only get one 'first time' together."
   She winked as she said, "We can always go again." Suddenly her pace
changed.
   I could feel the urgency building in my balls and knew I wasn't going to
last long like this.  Her grin simply widened as she gripped me tightly
with her vaginal muscles and instantly climaxed on me.  Her hips rocked
wildly, slamming me into her velvety cunt in very short, repetitive
strokes. The intensity of her sudden and tumultuous peak was dangerously
close to pushing me over the edge.
   "Oh, no!  Oh, fuck.  I'm going to come, Suz," I screamed, as I risked
inadvertently truncated her name again.
   "Oh yeah, fill me with it, Tommy!  Shoot it inside me!  I want to feel
it!" she cooed.
   The throaty pleading of her soft voice, coupled with her continued
gyrations, took me over the edge.  She'd struck the mother-lode and, before
I could lift her up or pull free, my fluid was pulsing inside her.  Jet
after jet emitted from me.  There was so much of it that soon it was
escaping her as she continued to ride me up and down.  There was too much;
it was running everywhere.  It was watery, too, and that didn't seem right.
   In my confusion I started to panic.  "Oh, no!  Oh, nooo.  I'm sorry,
Suz," I cried, as I continued to convulse into her in a mixture of agony
and ecstasy.
   Suzan saw the tinge of horror that must have been on my face and
instantly soothed me, "It's okay sweetie.  That was great for me too.  I
told you I wanted to feel you cum inside me, when we came together for the
first time." She was stroking my face lightly now.
   "Something's wrong though," I said looking at my lap.  "There's so much,
I don't understand.  I never came that much."
   "Oh, honey; everything's okay.  You made me squirt a little too!" Suzan
said lovingly.
   "I didn't know." In spite of her emotionally generous nature, I felt
dumb and inexperienced again.  I felt like I'd ruined it.  My face must
have gone ashen.
   "Hey, don't.  That was great!  I mean it.  You're the first guy that
ever made me do that!"
   She was so much more than kind.  I was still feeling like a dolt, but
her encouragement was definitely lifting my mood.  She shifted off of me,
to lie beside me, still stroking my flagging cock with her hand while she
stroked my bruised ego with her words.
   "Tommy, you were good.  So good."
   "Really?"
   "You were great," she reiterated.  "I've only ever squirted when I hit
my G-spot with my vibrator.  I didn't think it could happen for me, during
sex." She could see I was still confused but waited for me to form my
response.
   "I'm sorry, Suzan.  I don't have much experience.  I guess I should have
told you before.  I've only been with that one girl I told you about from
high school."
   In all of our discussions, we hadn't dealt with that one topic: our
previous lovers.  I'd told her about that first heartbreak, but she hadn't
really spoken about any of her experiences.
   "Tommy, Tommy.  Please don't start doubting yourself.  We're here to
learn, aren't we?"
   "Yeah, we are." Her take on things frequently blew me away.  I hugged
her tight.  She gave and gave.  She was so open with me.  I put all my
cards on the table with her right then.  "Suz, I love you."
   "Let's make a deal," she said.
   "What kind of deal?"
   "Let's be open and honest, about everything we feel, with one another."
   "I feel like I'd like to give it another try.  Can we?" I asked with a
huge smile.
   She gave me a sideways grin as she saw how serious I was.  "Come here,
you." She pulled at me encouraging me to get atop her.  Once I was, she
kissed me deeply.  After some time she broke the kiss and whispered,
"Tommy, please make love to me."
   I just wanted to please her.  I'd really have done anything she asked.
But I also wanted to redeem myself because, regardless of her protests, I
was still really struggling with nearly botching our first time.
   "So, where is it?" I wondered aloud.
   "Where is what?"
   "Your G-spot."
   "Oh, they are all different, you know?  Mine is kind of to the front,
but fairly deep inside.  My abdomen is kind of long and I can't comfortably
reach it with my fingers."
   Looking at her petite fingers I mentally compared their length to my
penis.  My fingers weren't as long as my penis either, but I wondered if I
could reach it.  Her abdomen was longer than a most of the women I'd seen
on campus.  It wasn't odd looking, in fact I found it one of her most
attractive features.  After thinking about it for what was probably too
long, I decided not try tonight, but would add it to my list of things to
attempt, for her.  For now, it felt like what Suzan wanted was a nice
missionary coupling.
   Her slit felt pretty slick, but I wanted to make sure.  I went down on
her again, since it'd been so terrible, that first time.  This time around,
I took more time and Suzan was squirming and bucking and groaning
breathlessly by the time I finally paid a visit to the man in the saddle.
He seemed a little larger, this time, almost like a little penis.  When I
took her engorged clit into my mouth and gently sucked on it, she climaxed
and pressed some of my ejaculate out.  I continued eating her and sucking
her more forcefully.
   "Ohhhh - faaawk - Tommy!" she moaned, as her orgasm continued and
pressed out several short little squirts her of clear fluid - all of that
without having her G-spot manipulated.  I was treated to more of her yummy
nectar, which I concluded flowed more easily once started.  There wasn't
nearly as much as when we'd climaxed together, but I was happy to learn
about my partner.
   I continued to lick more gently, as her orgasm slowly subsided.  By the
time she had calmed, my manhood had returned its fully reinvigorated state.
I climbed back into the position she'd originally pulled me into, looked
her in her beautiful emerald green eyes, and slowly inserted myself without
the assistance of any hands.  Her eyes flashed as I reached full
penetration and my pubic mound met hers.  With her hands guiding my hips I
began to rhythmically withdraw and insert.  We gazed lovingly at one
another as I built up momentum.  My arms held by body above her while our
bodies impacted against each other with a sound like the clapping of hands
and, after a few minutes, Suzan closed her eyes, letting herself drift off
and get lost in the sensations.  I continued that pace unabated, for what
felt like half an hour, and my glutes were starting to burn when Suzan
finally began to crest.
   "Mmmm.  Ohhhh.  Mmmm," panted moans escaped her mouth upon each thrust.
   Looking down I watched as my glistening penis disappeared and reappeared
from her.  The sight of her engorged clit and stretched lips clinging to me
hastened my climax.
   "I'm going to cum inside you, Suz," I announced, unashamed and
unworried.
   "Oh, gawd.  Yes, yes, yes, fill, me, baby!  Pound me harder, Tommy."
   My soul mate's wish was my command.  I let my upper body rest upon her,
grabbed her hips and she lifted her legs high giving me full access to go
as deep as possible.  Soon we were both wracked with spasms.  I couldn't
help but lean my head forward and suckle at her beautiful tit as I
continued to pump rope upon rope of semen into her.
   Suzan's quim clamped down upon me as I came to rest atop her, buried
deeply.  "Fuck!" she exclaimed as she pulled me deeper into herself with
her legs clenching behind my back.  Her body rocked and trembled.  I stayed
on top until I was convinced I was crushing her, and then moved to lie
beside her and embrace her in a tight hug.
   "That was freaking awesome," she whispered.
   We fell asleep in one another's arms.  At some point in the night Suzan
had opened the curtains.  I awoke around midnight to use the restroom.  The
moonlight was streaming directly in though the sliding glass door,
illuminating the bed.  Suzan looked lovely, in the moonlight.  I crawled
back into bed and snuggled up next to her.  Her light breathing lulled me
to sleep again.
   Sunday arrived abruptly, for me.  Evidently Suzan had found my morning
wood and was taking care of it for me.
   "Ohhh, gawd." I hadn't expected the suddenness of it.  The wetness of
her lips and roughness of tongue on the mushroom head nearly triggered me
right then.  My hands were gripping at the sheet as she twirled her tongue
on my head and took me back into her mouth.
   Suzan looked up at me adoringly as her head bobbed on me.  Her eyes
twinkled with mischief and she stopped for a moment, lifting her mouth from
me to speak.  "I was just thinking that I should finish that little thing I
started, a couple months ago."
   "You don't have to do that, Suzan," I told her, smiling.  "I'm already
on Cloud Nine!"
   "I know I don't have to, baby," she grinned wickedly.  "But I really do
want to.  And I'm dying to taste you, so don't you dare try to pull away!"
   Then she slurped me back into her mouth and worked me to the point of no
return in about five glorious minutes.  Soon, I was past the point of being
able to hold back.
   "Suzaaaan, I a - uh - oh fuck!" I was erupting like a west Texas gusher.
She swallowed most of it, but there was a lot and coming fast.  When I was
done, she lay back beside me, using a finger to scoop up the trickles of my
cum that had overflowed my mouth and guide them back to her lips.
   "I've been wanting to do that since the very first day walked me out to
my car after class, and I saw how excited you were," she told me when she'd
finished cleaning her chin.  "You taste delicious, by the way.  I'll be
wanting more of that sweet cream - much more!"
   I pulled her closer, and kissed her deeply.  Yes, I tasted some of my
own cum, still clinging to her tongue, and I could live with it.  After
all, she'd already tasted her juices, on me, without complaint, so
turnabout was fair play.
   We stayed in bed until around nine.  It was just nice to be in bed
together, giving and receiving the love we both felt so deeply.  Eventually
we got out of bed and went to shower together in the big walk-in shower. 
The bathroom floor was done in large 18-inch smooth-honed Travertine tile
that carried into the open shower.  There was a long half wall tiled in
smaller size tiles with interesting natural color mixtures that made the
whole thing feel opulent.  Inside there was a tiled bench against the rear
wall and there were multiple shower-heads controlled with four different
knobs.
   Suzan went in first and had the top two shower-heads running at a nice
warm temperature.  When I joined her I could tell that this wasn't just
going to be a shower.  Suzan was fully wet, her long hair took on a
slightly darker red-orange color.  Her lips curled into a naughty grin as I
got under the water with her.  The motion of her hand stroking me lightly
had me at attention in moments.  She was quickly on her knees in front of
me taking me into her mouth and throat deeply, pulling my hips forward to
take me deeper.  Before I got too excited she stopped and bent down holding
the sturdy grab-bar.
   "Do me from behind," she said.  "But don't finish, there.  I want that
in my mouth."
   I entered her from behind.  The crown of my cock passed through her
tight inner lips with a plop.  The saliva she'd applied aided my entry.  I
thrust into her repeatedly and then pulled out.  The reentry was similar
encountered a similar plop as I pressed into her again.  That got a throaty
moan from her, so I repeated it again several times.  The combination of
her saliva, wetness, and shower made the entry almost effortless.  Gripping
her hips I continued with full withdrawal, but used her hips to quicken the
entry.  I loved watching myself press her lips apart from behind.  Her
smooth pussy and extended clitoris were mesmerizing.  This vision coupled
with Suzan moaning and telling me to take her to the finish line.
   "Do it!  Finish me!" she begged.
   The two rounds of morning sex, plus the blow-job she'd given me, were
keeping my climax at bay and I continued to thrust into her.  Wet, squishy,
slapping sounds of our repeated union echoed in the tiled shower.  Suzan's
legs began to tremble in this standing position.  Pulling out of her to
have her face me I lifted her light body up and reentered her.  Now her
legs were wrapped around me and her arms clung around my neck.  I wanted to
see her beautiful emerald eyes as she came on my cock.
   It didn't take long.  Her sitting position pushed me deep inside.  Her
vaginal muscles began to contract and I watched her face as it contorted in
ecstasy.  I continued to pound into her while wave after wave rocked over
her.  When my soul-mate finally reached her peak, I thrust deeply into her
and held her firmly.  Rather than screaming out as I expected she might,
Suzan just let out a long breath of air.
   "Faaaaaaaaa."
   The warm water continued to flow down onto us as she came back to me. 
Her eyes filled with love and lust.
   "That was very nice," she finally spoke, her voice just barely audible
over the water.
   Slowly, I set her down on the bench and my penis plopped out.  Suzan
grabbed me almost at once and began sucking and bobbing her head on me as I
stood in front of her on the bench.  She was working me mercilessly.  Her
eyes flashed upward at me as she could feel my balls start to tense.  She
encircled the base of my cock with her thumb and forefinger while her lips
and tongue sucked and nibbled on my sensitive cock head.  Within moments,
she had coaxed what felt like a cup of jizz out of me.  Greedily she sucked
every drop from me and finally tongued the tip of my dick slit.  Now I was
the one needing to sit on the bench and I joined her.
   "That was amazing," I told her.  "And very hot.  I love watching your
mouth on me.  It was just like that morning."
   "I loved doing it, baby," she smiled back at me.  "I loved watching the
look on your face, as you emptied yourself in my mouth!  And, your cum
tastes so good."
   "I guess we need to get showered and out of here shortly," I said after
a bit.
   With all of our sexual exploits, we barely got out before checkout.  We
were packed and ready to go just in time, which was around eleven for our
condo.  It left just enough time that we could have a nice sit down Sunday
lunch, get back on the road and arrive back at our places before too
terribly late.  It seemed like timing couldn't be more perfect.
   When I let Suzan buy lunch, she was so happy.  It didn't really sit
right with me, but that was just because Dad had taught me that the
gentleman always pays.  I know that is old school and perhaps a little
chauvanistic.  In my case, though, I felt bad letting someone who worked
pay for me while I had my Dad paying my way.  He had allotted a certain
portion of my college fund - over and above tuition, books, meals, and
lodging, for 'fun stuff'.  The whole of my freshman year, I had maybe
purchased one or two albums and seen a movie or two, so I had - I figured -
about twice what the trip had cost, thus far, remaining in my 'fun fund'.
Still, I let her pay because she wanted so very much to contribute to the
cost of the trip.  Allowing her to pay made her happy - and that made me
happy.
   Getting into the Taurus for the trip back, she asked, "Did you want me
to play some of what you brought?"
   "Sure, I have a lot of music that's similar to what you brought," I
said.
   She smiled broadly, and slid my thumb drive into the slot, and the music
began to play.  As I'd told her, there were some duplicates of tunes that
she'd had, on her thumb drive.  There were also some 'special songs.  I'd
recalled the morning that I'd first visited her apartment, and what she'd
said about all the songs with "Susan" in the title or lyrics, and
researched them.  Most of them were on the 'sad' side, but there were a
couple - 'Susan', by The Buckinghams, and "Symphony For Susan", by The
Lettermen - that were mostly happy songs - as well as being songs that were
easy enough for me to sing along with, once I'd learned the lyrics.
   Also in the mix was one particular song that I'd planted, that would
play at least five times in the three hours it would take us on the drive
home.  'Wouldn't It Be Nice,' by the Beach Boys, kind of summarized the
emotions and thoughts I'd been having lately and now especially, after this
trip.  There was no way that my baritone-tenor range could match Brian
Wilson's falsetto on the lead vocals, but that wasn't important.  The words
were, and the second verse of the song held the key:
   Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up
   In the morning when the day is new,
   And after having spent the day together,
   Hold each other close the whole night through?
   I hoped I was planting a seed that might grow in her mind.  There were
only three copies of it on the drive with slightly different names so we
did hear it more than once.  I'd also planted one of her new favorite songs
a couple times the new song by Coldplay, 'Paradise'.
   The end of October found Suzan and I doing great as study and lab
partners.  We'd also gotten into a fairly regular habit of being bed
partners, and terms of endearment such as 'honey', 'baby' or 'sweetie'
slowly began to replace first names whenever one of us addressed the other.
She never called me Tom, but I frequently called her Suz.  I got the
feeling I was the only person whom she allowed to do so.
   Friday nights were always the big nights for our bedroom romps, because
she worked weekdays and had started working evenings on Saturday and
Sunday, after the beach trip, because she wanted to contribute to our
date-fund.  It became readily apparent, at least to me, that what we should
do was to become roommates.  She had financial aid for tuition, books, and
meals, and was working primarily to pay for her portion of the rent on her
shared apartment.  The beach trip seemed to spur anew her need to earn
money.  Logic suggested that, if she moved in with me, we could keep each
other satisfied, focus more on our studies, and save some money in the
bargain.  It would be a true win-win scenario, right?  I just wasn't sure
how to bring it up to her.
   The first time I thought about trying was after I gave Suzan her first
'official' guitar lesson.  She'd stopped taking lessons with the guy at the
guitar shop when he went upped his lesson fee.  I had offered to teach her.
When I was done with the lesson...  well it all got messed up.  I don't
know exactly how it came out wrong, but somehow she felt like she needed to
pay me, and I wasn't having it.  She was so independent.
   I didn't want to force the issue, but I did try to work our
conversations toward the topic of living together on a couple different
occasions.  On each of these subsequent occasions, my timing was slightly
off and, luckily, I narrowly decided against broaching the subject.  The
next time I was angling to work it into conversation, she was in a pretty
dour mood because of issues with someone at work.  I got the impression
that the person was someone with whom she'd been romantically involved.  I
figured it was better to keep my mouth shut and seem a fool, than open it
and remove any doubt.  The last time, she was lamenting the time that work
took her away from study, but then she proceeded to talk herself into the
freedom that it gave her.  I definitely wanted to avoid having her think I
was trying to make her dependent upon me.
   Finally, one Friday evening, it happened very naturally.  We finished
another lab write-up together, and then she and I each had some homework
for different classes.  She was already staying over several nights a week
but almost always Friday and Saturday.  We both worked separately on our
assignments at the kitchen table in the straight-back chairs.
   She struck up the conversation casually.  "You know what we need?"
   "A sex break?" I asked hopefully.
   "You always want a sex break, silly.  What we need is a sofa or a couple
of easy chairs."
   I noticed the use of we, both times, so I took the opening.  "Well,
then, I guess that we should go shopping."
   "When should we go?" she asked.
   "I'm thinking tomorrow morning, after - "
   "You are insatiable," she interrupted me and laughed.
   "I was going to say, 'breakfast', but that other thing would be okay, as
well," I chuckled.
   "You men are all alike," she laughed, "always thinking with your little
heads!"
   "True, but I'm also thinking - and, this time, it's with my big head -
that maybe you should just move in with me, while you're at it," I said,
hoping her rejection would not be too harsh.  "After all, you spend most of
your time - and not a few overnights - here, anyway!"
   Her eyes lit up like those of a kid on Christmas morning.
   "You mean it?" she asked.
   "Yeah, I mean it!  Would I ask a question like that, if I didn't?  I've
been trying to think of a way to ask you, for several weeks, but you spoke
so often about the freedom that having your own place gave you."
   "Honey, the 'freedom' I was talking about was the freedom from having to
live in a cramped dorm room with a roommate - assigned by the college -
which I can't get along with.  Sharing an apartment with you?  That's -
what is it, that you Texans say?  A horse of a different color?"
   I couldn't help but chuckle at her turn of phrase.  She had been hanging
out with me so much that her imitation of my drawl pretty much nailed it.
Her eyes danced with mirth as she jumped up to straddle my lap.  She was
kissing me furiously before I even knew what had hit me.  At that moment, I
wished we had a couch already.  How many times had we started out in one of
these hard chairs, only to have to break for a more natural positioning on
the bed?  Rather than breaking the kiss, I stood up with her still
straddling me.  Her legs wrapped more tightly around me, and I headed
towards the bed.
   At the bed I undressed her slowly.  We had taught each other how our
bodies worked so well over the past few months.  Going slowly made her
arousal all the stronger.  Each piece of clothing taken off was folded and
placed on the dresser.  Once she was fully naked on the bed, I disrobed for
her, slowly, and she stared at me with rapt anticipation.  I joined her in
bed and kissed her deeply for several minutes.  Then I broke the kiss and
touched her lightly with my fingers and traced kisses through her erogenous
areas.  Her body quivered in anticipation.  Finally, I worked my way down
to her vagina.  She'd taken to a completely nude look, after the beach
trip. I found the sensation wonderful and, apparently, so did she, as my
mouth engulfed most of her.
   I ate her like that for a long time.  At some point I figured I might
pushing it too far, so I changed my focus and worked my middle and ring
finger into her gently.  I had made Suzan squirt several more times with my
penis during love making, but now I wanted to see if I could find the
elusive G-spot with my fingers.  After a few minutes, I thought I'd gotten
it.  It was well inside, on the roof of her vagina, kind of spongy and
textured like a walnut shell, just like all the how-to texts I'd read said
it would be.  I hoped my hands weren't hurting her, but soon found that she
was shooting a stream of fluid on my hand as she convulsed.  I resumed
munching on her and slurping the fluid greedily.
   "Ohhhh, faaawk, oh fuck, mmmm - uh - oh my gaawd, right there.  Don't
stop!" she exclaimed, as she bucked wildly.
   I continued to strum her like my guitar, and couldn't get that Beatles
tune, 'While my guitar gently weeps', out of my head.  Her decent was slow,
after I led her through a series of orgasms.  I continued to lap at her
gently and finished with a light kiss.
   Climbing up beside her, I laid on the bed.  After a few more moments I
wistfully asked, "So is that a 'yes' then?"
   Her face lit up with her laughter.  I'd have paid good money just to
hear that sweet sound.  Soon she was atop me, kissing me and positioning
herself on my straining cock.  Her slickness helped guide me in to what had
become a very tight vaginal canal.  She had been quite tight during our
very first session those weeks ago at the beach, her orgasm from
manipulating her G-spot seemed to have made Suzan even tighter.
   "Suz...." I screamed out her name as she finally forced herself down
upon me.
   She began a slow, rhythmic grind, on me, that built rapidly.  Every time
I got close she would slow things back down.  She was building me up for a
climax like I'd never had.  Over and over she would increase her tempo
until she was pounding me so forcefully that the tip of my cock would begin
hitting her cervix.  Then, backing, off she'd bring me down slowly.  Every
peak she brought me to was, higher and more intense than the one before. 
Both our bodies were glistening with perspiration.  She bent down and
whispered in my ear.
   "I'll let you know after this."
   With that, she unleashed herself.  Her tempo increased into a twitching
motion that rocked her hips while most of her upper torso remained still. I
couldn't help but thrust my hips up to meet her.  Her hands grasped my
shoulders for support as she used the strength to culminate the session. 
Her beautiful petite breasts were just there in front of my face and I
couldn't resist as I sat slightly forward to take the left one in my mouth.
The shock wave that went through her caused a tightening in her vaginal
muscles that pushed us both over the edge together.
   Never releasing her nipple from my mouth, I thrashed beneath her as a
new flood of liquid rushed around my cock.  Stream after stream erupted
from my cock in what had to have been the most intense orgasm I had ever
had.  My cock remained firm and I continued pounding her even as she froze
up during the final moment of her climax.
   "Yes, yes, yes, Tommy!  The answer is yes!  Ohh, fuck, don't stop!"
   I wasn't stopping.  I wanted to hear another yes, and wound up hearing
several.  Eventually, of course, I had to stop, because I was running out
of steam.  She collapsed, exhausted, on top of me.  We remained in bed the
rest of the evening, softly stroking and petting one another.  Light kisses
and tender looks were exchanged.  We were moving to the next level, and my
love was moving in with me.
   The next morning, she was up with the roosters.  Okay, there weren't any
roosters, but it was early.  Her excitement over getting a piece of
furniture was a mystery to me.  She dragged me out of bed and into the
shower.
   "This is going to be such fun," she said as she lathered up her hair.
   I tried to be as enthused about it as she was, "Yeah, it'll be nice to
have a sofa."
   I must not have been very convincing.  Suzan grabbed my semi-stiff
pecker and stroked it.  Mischief was definitely in her eyes.
   "I thought we were going shopping," I said stupidly.
   "You want me to stop?"
   "No."
   What followed undoubtedly tied our Sunday morning at Myrtle Beach for
the most fun I'd ever had in a shower.  It wasn't a long romp but it
definitely woke me up and made me more enthusiastic about shopping for a
sofa.
   The shopping trip consisted of going to about four different furniture
stores, looking for a sofa we could both agree on, and afford.  It was in
the fourth store that we found one that'd work.  She insisted on
contributing half, so we were in it together.  We had it delivered the
following Thursday, since that was my light day.  The sofa was really
something between a love seat and a sofa.  It fit neatly on the open wall
of the entry room.
   The move was a foregone conclusion, and I hadn't even realized the
impact until we were doing it.  A couple days after that night when she'd
said yes, she arranged for a small rental truck to gather her stuff.  The
couch had arrived Thursday, and we were at her place Friday, packing and
loading the truck with her few possessions.  Most of her stuff was boxes of
clothing, but a chair and a desk were among her things.  She was giving
away her bed (mine was bigger), but had a dresser that was larger than
mine. It all fit into the efficiency, since we hadn't gone overboard with
our furniture purchase.
   Suzan cut back her hours at the restaurant, significantly, following the
move.  Now that she wasn't paying for a share of an apartment, and eating
cafeteria food most of the time, her money was stretching much further
without having to be supplemented by waitress wages and tips.  She was
digging the idea of focusing on studies and me.  I couldn't have loved her
more.  I was just so over the moon that I decided to call my Dad to tell
him the news.
   It was late October, and he was home.  Looking at the exact date on my
phone, I realized I'd missed calling him for his birthday.  That guy worked
hard and was generally frugal.  He didn't even have a cell phone.  When he
answered the phone, I wished him a belated happy birthday.  Then I broke
the news to him and told him Suzan and I were in our one-year trial period,
and he just laughed.
   I could hear him telling Katie my news, and she was saying something
back to him.  That was when he told me I should invite her to Corpus
Christi, for Christmas at his place.  They had already been expecting me to
come for the holiday break.  My two cousins, Zane and Adam, would be
joining us a couple days before Christmas.  I told him I'd think about it,
as I wasn't sure how Suzan might react.  Aunt Katie was after him to have
me send them a picture.  When I got off the phone I messaged Katie a
picture I had of Suzan, from my phone.  Then I had to laugh at the irony;
she was a little older than Dad, but had better technology, and yet Dad was
the one with a job in a technology field.
   Suzan asked me, "What are you giggling about?"
   I explained the irony of my Dad's aversion to cell phones, despite his
technology-related job, and Aunt Katie's apparent hipness with gadgets. 
Then I took the chance.  "They've invited you to come along with me, to
Corpus Christi, for Christmas.  You want to go?" I asked hopefully.
   "Oh, definitely!" she exclaimed.  "I've already heard so much about your
Dad, and your Aunt Katie, from you, that I can't wait to meet them.  What's
the weather like, there, in December?"
   "Well, you probably won't want to go swimming in the Gulf - at least,
not without a wet suit - but Dad's pool is heated.  The air temperature
regularly gets into the low 70's."
   "So he is off, in December?" she asked thoughtfully.
   "Yeah, the whole month."
   When it came to talking about family, I'd noticed a couple things.  I
knew that Suzan's parents were currently living in California, although I
must have missed the reason for it.  She really didn't talk all that much,
about her family.
   As far as my family was concerned, I'd told her that my Mom and
stepfather lived outside Austin, and that I didn't really care to visit
them or talk about them all that much.  I'd talked a fair amount, about
Dad, telling her that he programmed automation stuff for oil platforms in
the Gulf, and had this crazy month-on, month-off work schedule.  I'd also
told her that my Aunt Katie had moved down to share the house with Dad,
following her own divorce from my Uncle Jim.  I didn't tell her about the
couple revelations, about Aunt Katie's true relationship with Dad, which
I'd only learned about during my trip to Europe, with them.  I figured I'd
have to clue her in on it, if our relationship got to the point where we
were planning a trip to the altar, but not until then.
   "At least your aunt had someone ready to help her out and cheer her up,"
Suzan mused, when I'd told her about how Aunt Katie had learned of her
husband's infidelity.  I really had to fight to keep the smile off my face,
when I thought about just exactly how Dad was cheering my Aunt Katie up.
   "Have you told your parents you've moved in with me?" I wondered aloud.
   She got a queer look on her silent visage.  I wasn't sure, but it looked
like she might tear up.
   "Hey, it's okay if you haven't.  I just wondered..." I tried to change
the trajectory of the question.  "Is everything alright between you and
them?  You don't talk about them much.  I know your dad's a preacher.  Do
they even know you're dating me?"
   "You're going to find out soon enough, I guess." She fell silent as she
looked for the words to say.  "I'm adopted, Tommy.  My folks are a nice,
very religious couple, but I never felt like I was part of their family. 
When I decided to go for a degree in biology, instead of theology, they
kind of stopped talking to me.  I try to stay in touch, but..."
   "Are you ashamed of me?" I asked without thinking about the accusatory
nature of the question.
   "Oh, god no!  Tommy, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me,"
she said, as she flew into my arms, her sobs a mixture of joy and sorrow.
   "Hey, I love you.  I didn't mean to upset you," I said, as I gently
stroked her hair.  "Sometimes I'm insecure about what people think, about
me.  It was a stupid question."
   "It wasn't stupid; it was open and honest.  You were sharing and I
wasn't..." she bawled.
   "Look, if there is one thing I know, it's that we don't get to pick our
families.  After how I fell for you in what seemed to be the blink of an
eye, I don't even think we get to pick who we fall in love with, either!"
   Her tears turned to kisses, and kisses turned to groping.  Almost before
either of us knew what was happening, we were naked upon our new sofa. 
Let's just say the sofa was a big hit, that night and many others.  The
soft arms of the sofa were at just the height to allow me to bend her over
one of them, for perfect rear entry, and she was really beginning to think
that 'doggie' was one of her favorite positions.  The material was
pleather, so the cleanup was easy.  It had become more than a study and
reading place.  It was a part of our 'sexual architecture'.
   Towards the end of October Professor Franklin gave us more details about
the final project.  On the syllabus it just read as: Familial Testing
Project.  It would involve each of the lab partner teams rotating through
his research lab in order to perform the final portions of the experiment.
I felt it might be a recruiting technique aimed at attracting
undergraduates into doing research alongside his grad students.
   The biology department, and the university in general, had a relatively
strong undergraduate research program running, and I was actually
considering getting involved in it, since students often got to travel and
do research abroad during the summer.  Of course, it didn't hurt that Suzan
was interested in doing research, too.
   The final lab would be a multi-part affair.  Each student would be
sending cotton swabs to their parents, to get DNA samples.  (Yes, they
could opt out, if they were paranoid.) The collection would take time so,
we needed to get those in the mail as soon as possible.  All of the results
would be confidential and very unofficial; we weren't professionals.
   Suzan discussed her situation with Professor Franklin, and was told that
she (or anyone else opting out) could get samples from random volunteers.
The object was to perform the steps to prepare the samples (if you've
watched any 'CSI' episode, you've seen some of the process), then put them
through the analyzing equipment and compare the sixteen genetic markers
among the alleles in our own samples with that of our parents.
   After class that day we each called our parents.  I had to make two
calls.  Launa was iffy about giving the sample, but she finally agreed when
I told her that everything would be kept entirely confidential.  Dan was
easy; he just needed the swab to show up in the mail before he left for the
month of November.  I was going to have to FedEx his, overnight, but he
just had to swab.  Aunt Katie could send it back via snail-mail.
   I didn't hear the call Suzan made to her parents, but she told me,
"Well, they consented."
   "That's good, right?  Are you okay?"
   "Yeah.  I didn't want to listen to a sermon about how I was living in
sin, so I didn't tell them we were living together," she told me.  "But I
did tell them I was seeing someone.  I even told them your name, okay?"
   "More than okay, Suz!  I love you."
   The love making that evening was soft, sweet and uninhibited.  That
night, a burden seemed to have been removed and her mind emotionally freed.
We were still learning from one another, and she performed several rather
enjoyable experiments upon me, that evening.
   Later that night, as she slept beside me, I thought about how complex
Suzan's relationship with her parents was.  We hadn't really discussed
religion yet...  I never knew how to bring it up with her Dad being a
pastor.  I wondered how large a schism there was between her and her
parents and how much it had to do with religious belief.  I considered
myself an agnostic, like my dad.  I didn't really know very many pastors'
kids.  Of the few I did know, one was the rowdiest of the bunch that he ran
with.  I could imagine Suzan might be struggling with questions about her
beliefs.
   Thanksgiving break was our first holiday together.  We shared it alone.
I baked a turkey breast.  Yeah, I cooked.  It was simple stuff that Dad had
taught me.  So we had turkey, smashed potatoes and asparagus.  Suzan did
the hard part; she made the gravy.  We went out afterward and looked at the
Christmas decorations.  We'd agreed that, since we were going to spend a
couple weeks in Corpus Christi, for Christmas, it made little sense to
splurge on decorating the apartment for the holiday season - though Susan
did insist on hanging a wreath on the door, and taping a sprig of mistletoe
over the doorway between our main area and the bedroom.
   When we got back, we sat on the sofa and talked about what we were
thankful for.  We were both thankful that we'd found one another.  She was
thankful for our health.  I was thankful that we were getting along so
well. I finally admitted to her that I wasn't really religious and opened
the door to allow that conversation.
   "I don't really know what I am, Tommy.  Growing up, a pastor's kid sees
a lot of things most folk don't.  I became acutely aware of the ugliness
that can sometimes occur in the name of God.  My Dad's behavior often
seemed at odds with his supposed beliefs.  I supposed having to come up
with fifty-two sermons a year leads to some odd things taken somewhat out
of context to avoid being boring or repetitious.  But to me it almost
seemed Machiavellian the way words were twisted to make a certain point.  I
have personally observed the most devout behave hypocritically and the
unrepentant be absolved when their donations are large."
   "I wasn't trying to push you to think any particular way.  I just figure
we each need to know how the other feels, about various things, as we
progress in our relationship.  With you being a preacher's kid, religion
naturally becomes one of those 'various things.' You've never once said
anything, about wanting to go to church."
   "Yeah, it's part of the problem between me and my parents, especially my
Dad.  They think I've lost my faith...  I don't know what to tell them, I
am conflicted and not even sure if I ever had it.  I believe in lots of the
messages that encourage moral behavior but I always questioned everything.
The older I got, and the more I learned, the more I see the things that
don't fit with scientific observations.  The pursuit of biology has me
looking for an orderly universe controlled by observable rules, not the
whim of some being."
   "Well, that's where I am too.  I don't actively disbelieve, I just don't
actively believe.  I'm agnostic.  If I saw some proof, I might.  I like the
idea that morals are a social optimization of happiness," I said trying to
make the conversation lighter.  There was definitely something I was
picking up about her Dad.  Luckily, she seemed to come back from that
darkness.
   "How does someone with such a Texan accent have such deep geeky
thoughts?" she asked snuggling up to kiss me.
   "You know someone with a Texan accent?  I think I'd like to meet them."
   That got me some giggles and a long make out session on the couch.  It
seemed to me like there were no barriers in sight.  We seemed compatible.
To me I was counting down the months, two months down and ten to go.  After
we made love that evening I lay awake wondering when we might get married.
She was going to be a senior next year and then graduate after that.
   The final days of the semester were upon us quickly.  Both Suzan and I
had finals to study for and papers to turn in.  The small apartment didn't
have much in to keep all of the material we were generating straight.  It
was on our list to see about a file cabinet and some bookshelves, but the
rush of getting finished was overriding everything.  Professors seem to
procrastinate about some things, as much as students.  I was getting back
midterm papers and homework that had been turned in weeks ago.
   During this time period we also had our final BIO lab.  It was pretty
straightforward once I had gotten the samples.  Aunt Katie had sent Dan's
swab back, right after he left for his month on the platform.  Launa,
however, had to be reminded twice to before I actually got her swab back.
We took a Thursday afternoon appointment, to go through professor's lab,
since Thursday was now a light day for both of us.  We ran our samples and
got the printouts.  The automated equipment made some of the previous labs
feel much harder, in retrospect.
   Back at the apartment that evening, we worked across from one another at
the kitchen table.  Despite working together to do the lab, this lab was
supposed to be an individual effort to write up, since the results were
personal, and since it was going to be counted as the final for the lab. 
We both took our printouts and began working on our write-ups.  Reviewing
my results, it was clear I had multiple matches with my parents.  I had
eleven matches with Dan, and five with Launa.  I was nearly finished when I
saw Suzan's expression.  I could tell there hadn't been any matches, but
there was a kind of sadness on her face as she taped her results to the top
of her results page and close her notebook.
   Getting up I went to her and hugged her tight.  "I know," I told her.
   She hugged me back, "I'm being kind of silly.  I knew there wouldn't be
any matches.  I don't know why, but seeing it confirmed on paper made me
feel sad."
   The week of finals seemed like a blur.  Suzan and I studied together for
the BIO class, but we each had a full load of classes.  I was actually a
little over on credits to catch up for the change in major.  Suzan and I
studied endlessly on the sofa.  There were almost no sex breaks.  Almost.
My exams went smoothly for the most part.  Statics was looking like a
strong B but everything else was looking like A's.
   The night before we were going to leave for our winter break trip to
Corpus Christi, Suzan and I found ourselves cleaning our apartment.  We had
both left various books, notebooks, returned homework, and other papers in
piles throughout the living area during our mad dash for finals and
everything that goes with that.  We had taken a divide and conquer
approach. Suzan was tackling our mixed piles of course work.  I was working
on the kitchen: refrigerator, kitchen sink, dishwasher, and garbage.
   I was about to haul a big plastic garbage bag down to the dumpster, when
I saw Suzan stumble over a stack of stack of material which contained our
returned lab books.  She wasn't hurt, but her attention was drawn to the
data sheets from our last lab.  My notebook had landed so that the allele
data was sticking out and hers was opened to that page.  They weren't
directly touching, adjacent, or even facing in the same direction.  But for
some reason Suzan knelt down and placed them side-by-side.
   The entire incident must have taken seconds to happen, but it seemed
like everything was happening in slow motion.  First there was a light
smile on her face, which quickly changed to something akin to horror.  She
looked at me with tears filling her eyes.  Suddenly I was watching her run
into our bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
   I went to look at the data sheets where she'd arranged them.  My Mom's
results were on the outer right and were aligned with hers, which were on
the left in the crease of her notebook.  As I studied both sheets, it hit
me: she'd matched nine alleles from my mother.
   Suzan was apparently my half-sister.
   "Just fuck me blind," I muttered.  "What are the chances of that?"
   I knew what the test results meant, but I didn't want it to be true. 
Then I compared her results with mine, and we only matched three.  That
made some sense, because I'd apparently acquired the majority of my DNA
from Dan, and there were no matches between Suzan and Dan.  What the fuck
are we going to do?  I thought.
   Now, I knew I'd left Suzan alone for too long.  She must have been in
shock.  I could only imagine what she might be feeling.
   "Honey," I knocked lightly at the door.  "Honey, can I come in?"
   "No!"
   "Please, Suz.  This doesn't change anything."
   "It changes everything!" she said, between sobs.
   I cracked the door open a little.  "Please.  I love you."
   She was lying face down on the bed with her head buried in my big
feather pillow.  Tears had already soaked large wet spots of the navy
pillowcase.
   She turned her head slightly and rasped, "Tommy, don't you realize what
we've done?"
   Entering the room I joined her on the bed.  I attempted to sooth her I
as I stroked her back.  "Suz, we haven't done anything wrong, legally or
morally."
   She wasn't having it.  "We're related, damn it!"
   "We might be related," I corrected her.  "This sixteen marker test is
not definitive on any of this stuff."
   "You saw how many matches I have with your mother?"
   "Okay, it a high probability, but it isn't definitive."
   "We can't do this.  I can't do this." She started to get up.  "I've got
to go, I can't stay here."
   "No, Suz, please don't go.  Please, sweetie, I love you.  We can work
through this," I said, as I followed her to the apartment door.
   Suzan wouldn't be stopped.  She was in fight-or-flight mode, and I
didn't want to fight with her.
   "Please, think about it!  Don't give up on us," I pleaded as she went
out the door into the night.
   After she left, I plopped heavily back in my chair at the kitchen table.
I was struggling to figure out how this might even be possible.  Suzan was
about a year and a half older than me.  Launa was a shade over three years
older than Dad.  I wondered if she could have possibly had a daughter
before they were married, one that she gave up for adoption?
   There was no way I would even broach the issue with Mom.  I thought
about calling Dad to discuss it with him, but we were supposed to leave for
Corpus Christi tomorrow morning.  I decided against doing anything,
immediately.  It wouldn't be fair to Suzan, for me to do anything without
discussing it with her first, but we couldn't wait long.
   I gave myself an hour to let her calm down.  In my numb state of shock,
I went ahead and carried the garbage out, as if we might leave together
tomorrow.  As I walked I kept thinking that how bright Suzan was.  I was
certain she could rationalize all this, given a little time.  The emotional
shock of finding your biological mother, on top of finding out your
boyfriend's mother might also be your mother must have been extreme. 
Still, given time, I was just sure that we could sort it out.
   The minutes of that hour were some of the longest of my life.  My
longing to hold Suzan and make it all okay had me in emotional knots.  I
was pretty sure we were on safe ground, legally.  She was adopted just
after her birth, so the records would surely be sealed.  Her surname was
not the same as Launa's maiden name, Duinerua.  As long as neither of us
said anything, we could legally take our relationship all the way to the
altar.  The only problem that might arise was if the professor had noticed.
He no longer had the lab books, though, and my guess was that he most
probably wouldn't have picked up on the matches, either, unless he was
looking for them.
   I tried to distract myself by putting away, and organizing, the rest of
the school materials we'd generated.  I placed thing in neat stacks in the
bedroom.  I segregated her items from mine, thinking about how that
separation might expand if she decided we couldn't continue.  The maddening
hour came to an end.  Well, it was at least fifty minutes when I gave in
and texted Suzan.
   "Please, come back." Oddly, though, I heard the ping from somewhere
nearby.  Her purse was right there in the bedroom with me.  Fuck, she
hadn't taken her purse.  I grabbed my coat and headed to the door to go out
and look for her.
   As if on cue Suzan was knocking on our door.  She apparently had also
forgotten her key.  I opened the door and couldn't contain my relief.  "Oh,
my god, honey." I swept her off her feet.  "Please, don't ever leave me
again." I kissed her as she hugged me tightly.
   Her cheeks were cold, and she was shivering lightly.  The shock she'd
had gotten, after seeing her sixteen allele results beside my Mom's, was
far from resolved.  Running out into the cold night hadn't made any big
change, but she'd come back.
   Finally, she spoke.  "I'm sorry, Tommy.  I love you.  I really do.  I
just don't know if I can do this."
   Her tears started again.  No matter how I consoled her, she wasn't
coming back from her retreat.  Jagged sighs replaced her sobs as she began
to fall asleep.  She seemed to be shutting down and within moments she was
nearly silent.  I took her to our bedroom, set her on our bed, knelt beside
her and stroked her beautiful strawberry blond hair.  Tears had reddened
the area around her eyes.  As she lay motionless on our bed I wondered how
she'd even made it back to the apartment.  There was a strength in her, I
just knew there was.
   I removed her shoes and socks and pulled the covers over her to warm her
and allow her to sleep.  In her emotionally induced apoplectic state, it
was as if her discovery had become her unwitting.  I sat beside the bed in
the floor, not wanting to leave her alone, I held her hand.  I worried that
nearly anything I did might cause any further emotional distress, so I dare
not sleep with her in the bed.
   The emotional stress was having some impact upon me, as well, but - in
her brief absence - I had already made up my mind.  I did have slight
advantage in the circumstances, since I had already been prepared for
thinking about this situation, because of one that was very similar. 
During my trip to Europe with Dad and Aunt Katie, I had developed empathy
for their situation.  I'd tried to imagine what I might do.  What would I
do, to help my sibling?  I'd thought it was a rhetorical exercise, of
course since I didn't have any brothers or sisters, at the time.  I'd
decided I agreed with them living as a couple.  There was little chance
they were hurting one another or anyone else.  Now - now, I knew; I would
do anything I could.
   This wasn't exactly the same situation, but Suzan and I had been drawn
to one another.  We'd done everything right.  We'd taken the time to make
sure it was love not lust.  We'd learned each other's desires and dreams.
Now, I was determined that I would do anything I could to keep her. 
Naturally, I wouldn't go against her wishes, but there was no reason to
share what we'd learned publicly.  My mind desperately sought out ways to
help.  Involvement of outside people seemed out of the question.  Soon, I
was asleep on the floor, holding my beloved's hand.
   Sometime later, Suzan stirred and I awoke.  She was looking down at me
in the dim light.  I smiled at her and she returned it.  She squeezed my
hand weakly.  Our gazes were full of love and concern.
   "Why are you down there?" she asked hoarsely.
   "I love you.  I know it was a shock.  I can only imagine how you feel."
   "I don't want to think about it.  Come up here and hold me.  I need
you," she whispered.
   "That's why I stayed," I said, as I got to my knees.  I leaned in to hug
her tightly.
   "Up here," she said a little more forcefully, as she pulled my arms
toward her.
   I joined her on the bed and spooned her tightly with the covers
separating us.
   "Under the covers, please?" she pleaded.
   "Suzan, I want to give you time to think this through."
   "Please?"
   I joined her under the covers.  "I don't want to hurt you, sweetie.  I
could never forgive myself."
   "I know."
   I hugged her tightly.  I knew that procrastinating, not talking about
the problem we faced, wouldn't make anything better.  However, I thought,
just having some time to absorb the information might be needed.  I didn't
want to interfere in that process.  She had to come to accept what I
already knew.  We just don't get to choose who we love.
   We laid together, under the covers, for a long time, her breath gentle
and unperturbed by any further jagged sighs.  I could tell she was awake,
but remained silent.  How quickly would she go through the stages?  My AP
psychology class, in high school, had taught me that Dr.  Kübler-Ross's
DABDA model applied to many things, not just death and dying.  Our teacher
had expressed the idea they may simply exemplify the basic process of
integrating new information that conflicts with previous beliefs.  It felt
like Suzan was still in the denial stage and anger, bargaining, depression
and acceptance were a ways off.  I wondered if we were even going to go to
Corpus now.
   In the morning Suzan was still in bed with me.  I took it as a good
sign. I lay with her until she began to stir.  She turned over to me and
kissed me lightly on my lips.
   "I love you.  We need to get ready to leave," she said.
   "You still want to go?" I asked hesitantly.
   "They are expecting us.  We've been planning to go for almost two
months. I don't know what we're going to do, but I feel we should go."
   I let her shower first, not knowing what level of interaction we would
have, now.  I packed a big duffel bag while she was in the shower.  I put
it and my backpack with my laptop by the door.  Suzan reappeared,
completely naked, from the shower.  As she began to dress, I could see
tears forming in her eyes.  I went to her and kissed her.
   "You need to get your shower, so we can go," she said, as she sadly
stroked my cheek.
   I simply obeyed her and showered quickly.  When I came back into the
room, she had packed.  Her bag, her backpack, a purse, and her pillow sat
at the front door with my stuff.  I got dressed quickly.  We both put on
light winter coats.  I made three trips to carry items to the car, and
added our guitars at the last moment.  I locked the apartment and we walked
hand in hand to the Taurus.  I opened the passenger door and assisted her
into her seat.  When I closed the door, she took the pillow she had carried
from the house and placed it between her head and the door.  She laid her
head against it as I started the car and thumbed the button for the heater.
   It was around 6:30 AM, and we had a long trip - over 20 hours - ahead of
us.  The morning was chilly, and the chill seemed to reach all the way into
my heart.  I hoped our trip to warmer climate would improve Suzan's mood,
but only time would tell.  Her breath fogged the window, lightly, as she
rested.  She seemed to be withdrawing further but, somehow, she'd mustered
the strength and the courage to undertake this trip with me.
   *
   To be continued.
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1QdQXsD
  
AnUnwittingDiscovery