Chapter 2

They drove along the thruway, just a little above the speed limit. From the passenger seat, she said, “I really can’t believe this. I’m Mrs. Walsh. That sounds so strange. Mrs.”

“It makes me really happy to hear you say it, Emma. Knowing there’s now a Mrs. to come home to.”

“Well, that won’t happen till after the honeymoon, of course. We get to spend the next ten days together. How much longer till we get to this resort?”

“I don’t know, maybe another thirty minutes. Check the map, would you?”

It turned out to be a few minutes longer than that, but soon they pulled the rental car up to the entrance and attendants rushed to open the doors for them and gather their luggage. Kenny tipped them from a roll of bills that looked much smaller than it did when he took it out of his savings account.

At the check-in desk, after tapping on the keyboard they quickly found his reservation. “Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, welcome” said the clerk. “You’re with us for ten nights, correct?”

Kenny completed the paperwork, while Emma stayed a few steps behind, hands folded in front of her. Armed with a keycard, and a handful of brochures detailing the resort’s amenities, they followed the bellhop to the elevator and their room.

The bellhop opened the door and deposited the luggage on the stands by the closet, then went around the room telling them how to open and close the blinds, operate the air conditioner, and use the telephone to call room service. Things any ten-year old could figure out in two minutes, but it was necessary so he could hold out his hand for a tip.

The bellhop pocketed the bill, with the hint of a leer behind him as he left. The couple had ‘newlywed’ written all over them.

The door closed with a substantial thud. The hotel seemed to be more solidly built than most of the motels he’d stayed in previously. Couldn’t hear much from the corridor.

They looked at each other a little nervously, and Emma fiddled with her watchband. She reached over and put her purse on a chair. “This is going to take some getting used to, I think. Let’s talk a little, okay?”

Kenny nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. Emma came over to sit beside him, a little tentatively.

“So, let me ramble a bit, Kenny. I’m still a little nervous, even though I’ve thought about this, a lot, since we got engaged. So, growing up...”

She cleared her throat, and coughed once.

“So, growing up, I was my mother’s daughter. She took pretty firm control, how I looked, what I wore, whether I should take dance lessons or learn a musical instrument – those kinds of decisions. They were never mine to make. She has a strong personality – you got that, didn’t you, when you’d come over to the house to pick me up for dates? – and she gives my dates the third degree, makes sure they have the right attitude, have a life plan, a work ethic, that kind of thing.

“You got that, I heard her giving you the third degree before I came downstairs each time. I’d talk to her about it, ask her to back off some, and she wouldn’t hear of it. She was protecting me. At least in her mind she was. The same thing was true about sex, even about things that were only remotely sexual, like kissing.

“I got it hammered into me from about nine on, and it got more serious when I got into my teens. I’m still not sure where it comes from. We’re not really religious, and I don’t think she was when she was growing up, either, so it’s a puzzle why she did it, does it.

“And when you asked me to marry you, and I told my parents, the conversation changed between her and me. She got more explicit about what was allowed and what was not. Like a list I was supposed to memorize. I’ve lived with her for twenty-odd years, I know when to nod and look agreeable so she’ll stop.”

And here she stopped, rearranging herself on the mattress, feet on the floor.

“What I didn’t tell her – have never told her – is that I’d made up my own mind, and the moment I said ‘I do’ I was never going to listen to her again for life rules. It was just easier growing up to go along so that I had a reasonably calm home life.

“I have girlfriends, some of them I’ve known since we were kids. Their home lives were ... more flexible than mine, so they experimented as they got to their teens – smoking, alcohol, drugs, and sex. And they talked about it when we got together, so I’ve heard a lot of things they’ve tried that I haven’t.”

She paused again, looking somewhat uncomfortable. After a few seconds, she went on.

“I’ve even seen some porn, when I’ve been over at their houses and the parents were out. There were things that were ... a surprise. I’d never thought about them, so seeing people doing those things and even enjoying it ... well, it made me decide that I’ve got to make up my own mind about things.

“My girlfriends, of course, used to, like, compare notes about sex things they’d tried, either because they wanted to or their boyfriends wanted to. So I’d hear about things they liked and things that were sort of uncomfortable or strange, and they’d debate it back and forth, and someone might suggest something that would make an uncomfortable thing less difficult. Like taking a guy’s thing in their mouths.

“Anyway, I remembered all this stuff they talked about. I never contributed, naturally, I just sat on the outside and listened, because I still wasn’t dating. My parents again.” She laughed, a little self-conscious.

“If my mother had had any idea about the things we did when I was over at their houses, I’d probably have been sent to a convent or something. But my girlfriends had had lots of practice hiding this stuff from their parents, so when they came over to my place and my mother gave them the third degree to make sure they weren’t corrupting her daughter, they were able to lie convincingly. My mother never had a clue.”

She turned on the bed to face Kenny. “So what I think I’m saying is, all that stuff that was hanging over me when we were going out, that’s her, not me. I’m going to make up my own mind, decide what I like, what’s fun, what’s ... uncomfortable because it’s new and strange, the things I hate.

“Kenny, I need you to help me figure this out, okay? I may want to try some things you might be uncomfortable with, and I’d ask you to humor me. And the reverse is true, if you want to try something, I may be a bit nervous, but give me time. I’ll try things and see if I like them. We’ll have to figure this out together, okay?”

Kenny looked at her, as if he were seeing an entirely new person. Over the past few days, he had mapped out a plan of action which he thought would allow him to indoctrinate her to some of the sex things that got his engine running. He hadn’t been sure how receptive she was going to be, so he had the steps ordered in his mind. As he watched her, he tossed the plan out.

“I wondered about this aspect of our relationship, Emma. You know I love you, and I’ll do everything to make you happy. If you want to try new things, I will keep an open mind, as I hope you’ll do, too. I’ll confess to you that it’s about all I can do to keep my hands off you right now. I think I’m about ready to rip that dress off you and throw you onto the floor.”

“We’ll have to make a list, then. Put that as number one. However, my first item is a shower. I feel a little sticky, so hold that thought. Give me ten minutes.”

She looked at him, then kicked off her shoes, rummaged in her suitcase for toiletries and clothes, and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door.

Kenny sat there on the bed, imagining the scene on the other side of the door. What if he decided to join her in the shower? What might happen then? He mentally shook himself by the shoulders, and said to himself, “Just wait, give her time to get used to the idea.”

Instead, he kicked off his shoes and loosened a couple of buttons on his shirt, as the room was suddenly feeling warm despite the air conditioner. He rubbed his sleeve over his forehead.

He heard the shower stop, and sounds from behind the closed bathroom door. He thought he heard humming. Was that her?

He felt his mouth getting dry, and wished he had some water, but he’d have to go in to the bathroom to get it.

Too late. He heard the sound of the doorknob turning, and then the door opened. She stepped out.

His breath caught in his throat. She had changed out of the travel dress and into a knee-length nightgown that was just transparent enough to give a hint to what was underneath. She stood there by the bathroom door, one hand on the door jamb.

“You look ... amazing,” he managed to choke out.

“You like it? I picked it out myself. Oh, you’ll find this funny. My mother bought me one, too, when she was picking out my trousseau. She thought I should have something appropriate to wear to bed. Hers was thick flannel, buttons at the neck and it ends about three inches above my heel. For a summer wedding. Then she was second-guessing herself, thinking it might be too daring.”

She grinned.

“This was ... a good choice.”

It hit him all of a sudden. In all the time he’d known Emma, even when they were dating, he couldn’t remember ever seeing a hint of what she looked like under the old-fashion clothes she wore. Her mother’s doing, he supposed. The wedding dress she wore earlier today, was lovely, all white lace and train, but it was floor length, the arms were covered, and it came all the way up to her neck. The “honeymoon dress” she had put on before they left in his car, cheered on by well-wishers and cascading rice, came below her knees and had only one button daringly loosened at the neck. Everything was covered up. Until now.

Kenny finally got his limbs under control and stood up. Emma walked toward him slowly. When she got within arm distance, he reached out and pulled her in close, wrapped his arms around her and, finding her lips, kissed her.

He noticed it right away. The kiss was different, not at all tentative as it had been when they were dating. She was putting all of herself into it. She was also pressing into his body, something she had avoided, even for as long as they had been going out. She was grinding into him, pelvis to pelvis. She could not have been unaware of his hard-on, because it was straining against his zipper.

When he finally had to take a breath, he leaned back and said, “Now, that’s a kiss. You haven’t been practicing with anyone else, have you?”

She gave him a playful punch. “No, I just spent a lot of time imagining how I’d do it. It was okay?”

“‘Okay’ is too polite a word. It was great. Emma? That nightgown is lovely. Really, it is. But if I don’t get it off of you real soon, it’s going to wind up in shreds on the floor.”

She smiled and raised her hands above her head, waiting. Kenny gripped the nightgown near her hips and slid it up over her raised arms. It dropped behind her to the floor.

“Oh, Emma! You’re gorgeous!”

She was petite, a good six inches shorter than he. The first thing he noticed was how fit she was. She’d told him that she tried to jog semi-regularly, and it showed. There was no excess fat anywhere that he could see. Her normal clothing, bought, he thought, by her mother, had quite effectively downplayed the normal curves that women would try to show.

She didn’t have a large bust, but her breasts were full and had prominent nipples. As she moved, the breasts would sway gently. Her ass was round and quite firm, the butt cheeks curving in to leave a gap between her thighs that almost pointed to what lay between them. Her legs were strong, no jiggle in the thighs at all.

He was surprised to find that she had trimmed her pubic hair to a neat triangle, and had shaved the labia bare. He wondered if her mother was aware. Somehow, he was sure that she would not approve.

He tried to remember how he’d imagined her under the clothes, but it was lost in the image before him. He knew his jaw was gaping, but he didn’t care. He ran his fingertips from her thighs up over the sides of her torso, trying to memorize every inch. After too long a time, he choked out, “Turn around.”

She turned slowly until her back was to him. How was it, he thought, that I never noticed how round her butt is? Why wouldn’t she want to make sure everyone saw that shape? Probably her mother’s doing again.

“I don’t even know where to start with you. I’ve got to kiss you everywhere.”

“Now, hold on there, mister, how is it that I’m the only one naked? This is a two-way street we’re on here. You just stand there for a minute.”

With a half-smile, she reached up and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. When she had done the last, she pulled the shirt out of his waistband and leaned in to run her hands over his chest, occasionally placing a kiss at various points.

“Halfway there,” she said. She looked him in the eye as she pulled his belt and unfastened it, found the button holding it closed, then reached down to find the zipper. She made a game of not being able to find the zipper, rubbing and squeezing until she had him gasping. Finally, she grasped the pull for the zipper slider and tugged it down.

It took only a moment for gravity to drop the pants around his ankles, leaving him in his shorts.

“Almost done,” she assured him. Still looking him in the eye, she slipped her fingers under the waistband and pushed them over his hips. They joined his pants at his ankles. She looked down.

“Oh,” she said.

He was as erect as he’d ever been. His dick was sticking straight out, and seemed to be vibrating. She continued to stare at it for another minute.

“It looks nothing like the drawings you see in the anatomy books in the library. They always make it look like kind of an afterthought. This is more like the phalluses we saw in the porn flicks. All my girlfriends used to joke about it while we were watching. They’d say, “I wish Bobby had one like that”, or “Jack’s about half that size”.” How big are you?” She reached out to take it in her hand. Kenny groaned.

“I don’t know. I’ve never measured it. I don’t know where you’re supposed to measure from.”

“It’s ... bigger than I thought it’d be. I hope it’s going to fit without hurting.”

“If you keep doing that, Emma, it’ll be over before it starts and we’ll never find out. Not till later, anyway.”

“Huh? Oh, you mean the hand. Sorry. Look, let’s lie down, okay?”

They pulled back the duvet and blanket and climbed onto the bed, arranging themselves to face each other on top of the sheets.

She cleared her throat. “Am I what you expected?”

“No,” said Kenny, “you’re beyond what I had anticipated, in about every conceivable way. Whatever preconceptions I had, they’re gone. You’re about as perfect as I could imagine.”

“You’re not what I’d imagined, either. You’re ... bigger than I’d thought, and you’ve got a cuter butt. I like your chest, too.”

He laughed. “Oh, did you spend a lot of sleepless nights wondering what you were going to find?”

She kissed his chest. “No, no sleepless nights, just some pleasant erotic fantasies.”

“Ooh, I see. Well, you’ll have to share your fantasies, maybe we can make a couple come true.”

“So far, I’m liking the reality. The fantasies can wait.”

“Emma, indulge me, would you? I want to examine your body, memorize it. All the places I never got to see before.”

“Okay, you start. Then it’s my turn.”

He made her lie on her back, relaxed. He wasn’t exaggerating, he started at the top, running his fingers over her ears, her face, her chin, and down her neck. He’d stop every so often and kiss or lick some particularly interesting spot. By the time her reached her upper arm she was sighing quietly.

When he reached her breast he squeezed it rhythmically with one hand while licking and sucking on her nipples. The sigh turned into a soft moan. Finally, Kenny moved on, continuing slowly down her torso. As he moved past her navel and approached her pubis he could feel her body tense, waiting. Her legs were close together, so he really couldn’t clearly see what lay between them.

But this was an exploratory tour. He’d return later for an invasion. He gave her clitoral hood a chaste kiss and moved down to the inside of her thigh, nibbling and licking, making her gasp. By the time he reached her knee, she was whimpering. Her knee, the back and inside, was particularly sensitive. The sound she made sounded like the beginning of the word ‘No’.

This was just the quick overview, the fly-by, so Kenny moved onward, down her ankle, and when he reached her foot he looked up to find that she had grabbed the sheets tightly in two fists and had her eyes screwed shut. He wondered if he was hurting her. No, she’d say something if he was.

So, down the ankle onto the instep, where her foot was shaking. He put his hand on it to stop the movement, then took two toes into his mouth and sucked on them.

“Oh, no, oh my God, don’t, it’s too much, Kenny, stop!” Her whole body was shaking as she tried to get away. Some perverse part of him told him to keep going, payback for all those attempts to squeeze her tit or get a hand under her dress that had been rebuffed.

But he could tell that it was bordering on painful for her, too sensitive, so he kissed the foot instead, and she finally relaxed.

“Turn over, Emma. On your stomach.”

She flipped herself over and found a comfortable position. Her legs fell more open and from his position at her feet he could look up her legs and finally glimpse her mons. He had to stop and take a mental snapshot to remember it. He mentally shook himself and returned to his tour.

He started at the back of her ankle, just above the heel, and kissed and licked his way upward.

Her face was buried in the sheets now, and he could hear her whimpering as he moved higher. He heard her gasp as he kissed the back of her knee. He made a mental note that this was a place he should revisit, because it got her crazy.

By the time he reached the cheek of her ass, her fingers were clawing the sheets the way a cat digs its claws into the rug. He squeezed and kneaded each butt cheek, and licked the place where it joined her thigh. When he did, she made a high-pitched sound in her throat.

Damn, he loved her ass, couldn’t get enough of it. It was so smooth and firm, and was perfectly curved. He put a thumb on each side of the crack and pulled the cheeks apart. Christ, look at that! That perfect, puckered little asshole, and just below it the entrance to her pussy, waiting for him.

He felt it calling to him, and he pushed his face into the crack and let his tongue follow the crevasse. Her mouth still buried in the bed, he clearly heard her cry, “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!”

That made him stop short. In all the time he’d known her, he had never heard her swear. If she was particularly angry at something, she’d say, “Nuts!” Once, when she caught her hand painfully in a closing door, he’d heard her say, “Damn it,” but she had immediately looked so shocked at her lapse that he thought it best not to comment on it. This was very new.

He pushed his tongue in once more, just to see if it happened again. This time it changed to a mantra of “Oh, Jesus,” repeated over and over. He went lower, and when he reached her anus, and pushed his tongue at it, he heard again, “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!”

He found her response so erotic that he kept it up for a while longer, until it was pretty wet with saliva. It was like pushing a button; he’d tongue her asshole and she’d start swearing, overwhelmed by the feeling.