I first saw Emily Warren when I was a college senior working in the Fall semester class registration line and she was a freshman signing up for classes. When our eyes met, hers softened into a delicious, sensual twinkle. There was a quiet, yet unmistakable, explosion in my brain. It was love at first sight.
Our first date and first kiss were that night. We were together every available moment for a week. We spent, spending the time learning about each other, and letting our love ripen.
"There's a fraternity party tonight. Let's go," I said to her on Friday afternoon.
"I hear their parties are drunken orgies," she replied.
Her expression made me twitch. She pressed against me and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist.
"You don't have to get me drunk, Mike. Lead me to your bed and tell me what you want me to do," she said.
Within the hour, we made love for the first time. She was a virgin, which surprised me. When I commented on her eager surrender, she said, "I've never been in love before."
I proposed a week later. She blessed the event with her tears and happily accepted. At Thanksgiving, I took her home to meet my parents, who wholeheartedly approved of her. When we returned to school, she moved into my apartment, although her dormitory room was paid for the semester.
"Oh, Mike," she whispered as she lay naked in my arms one night, "I can hardly wait until Christmas. I've told my parents everything about you. They're dying to meet you."
"I hope I'll pass inspection," I replied.
"You will, honey."
On December 21, we hopped into my Taurus for the three-hour drive to her parents' house. It took five hours, because we. We stopped at a little, offbeat motel to fuck like rabbits, since the Christmas Holidays might not give us time alone.
Her parents lived in a comfortable, tudor-style home on a quiet, tree-lined street. We pulled into their driveway about three in the afternoon. Emily jumped out of the car, hurriedly pulling me after her. The front door swung openopened and my heart stopped.
"Mom, this is Mike Dillon. Mike, this is my mom, Vicky Warren," Emily said.
Vicky had a soft, questioning expression as we exchanged polite hellos. The world swirled and I floated in unreality as we unloaded the car. Emily's younger sister, Gretchen, bubbled happily around us, sharing in her sibling's joy. Billy, her younger brother, shook my hand like a man and struggled with the bags.
"Are you all right, honey?" Emily asked solicitously when we had a moment alone.
"Just fine. Why?"
"You act like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm a little tired. I guess it's the trip and finally meeting your mom and all."
"Why don't you take a short nap? Dad'll be home in another hour."
"That sounds great."
She pushed me back on her bed and took off my shoes, gave me a kiss, and quietly closed the door as she left.
Memories of Christmas seven years ago overwhelmed me.
Brian was the first and I was the last of our Dad's six children. Dad divorced Brian's mom and married mine, so we weren't raised together until his Mom died. Brian and Elaine, his full sister, came to live with us then. He was sixteen and I was seven at the time. I adored him as only a little brother can adore a big brother. He was home for Thanksgiving. Dinner was over and we were visiting before the game started.
"What do you want for Christmas, Mike?" Brian said as he sprawled on my bed, thumbing through my Playboy.
"To get laid," I answered.
"I'm glad I'm not fifteen again. Still a virgin, huh?"
"Yes," I replied with a deep sigh.
"The first one's always the hardest. Okay, I'll get you laid for Christmas, but... " His voice changed and his eyes got hard. "... if you ever tell anyone about it or about her, I'll cut your nuts off."
"Oh, jeez, Brian, do you mean it?"
"About cutting your nuts off?"
"No, Brian. About getting me laid."
"Yeah, Mike. I mean it."
Brian called me three days later. "What are you doing this Saturday, Mike?"
"Hanging out. Why?"
"I want to give you your Christmas present. Mike? Are you still there?"
"Yes," I squeaked.
"Tell your mother we'll be spending Saturday together. I'll call her later to confirm it. The story is we're going Christmas shopping, and we'll actually do some before I take you home."
"Brian... Brian, how can I ever thank you?"
He laughed and said, "You'll have a good time, Mike. See you Saturday. Don't beat off between now and then."
He picked me up at seven thirty Saturday morning. We went to IHOP, had breakfast and talked about things, except we didn't talk about what I wanted to talk about. He waited until we got back in the car for that.
"Here's what's going to happen, Mike. We're going to the Holiday Inn. A lady friend of mine's going to spend the day there with you. She's not a hooker. She's a housewife who's married and has two kids. She's never done anything like this before, so she'll be nervous at first just like you are. Just be cool."
"She's someone else's wife?"
"Yes. We've been having an affair."
"Why's she doing this?"
"She likes the idea of being a young man's first woman. I'll introduce you to her and then leave. Treat her right, Mike. She's a very good woman."
"What's her name?"
"Vicky. You don't need to know anything else about her. She'll need to leave at three. You just wait in the room. I'll be back to pick you up."
I thought I'd never stop shaking as Brian pulled into the motel and stopped in front of room 123. When he knocked on the door, the shaking stopped and a feeling of euphoria, warm and tingling, flooded through me. She cracked the door, saw it was Brian and let us in.
"Hi, Vicky," Brian said, as he gave her a quick kiss. "This is Mike, my little brother. Mike, this is Vicky. You two have fun." Brian stepped back, closed the door behind him and was gone.
The silence was deafening as we stood there, two quaking strangers. When her eyes cut up to me, she blushed brightly and looked away again. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
About five six with light brown hair that touched her shoulders, she wore a long sleeved white blouse and ankle length denim skirt. Her face was pretty, her eyes big and brown, her lips medium fullness. When she backed away and sat on the edge of the bed, she glanced at me apprehensively. She took a very deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then she looked directly at me. Her eyes were soft and warm with a hint of a twinkle.
"I hear I'm your Christmas present," she said. I nodded. "And I'm your first, Mike?" she asked. Her voice was warm with a gentle shyness.
"Yes," I croaked.
"You're my first, too, in a way. I've never been a first before."
"Oh," I said.
The conversation died and watched each other. When she smiled, she was even prettier.
"Have you kissed a girl?"
"Why don't we start there?"
When I didn't move, she grinned. "It'd be easier to kiss if we were next to each other. Why don't you sit here?"
She patted the bed by her. Moving without conscious direction, I sat by her. She moved those few inches to rest her thigh against mine. It was hot and soft through our clothes.
When she wrapped her left hand around my right, her fingers seemed alive with electricity and the sparkle of the wedding band on her ring finger blinded me. Her palm was moist. The fingers of her right hand were on my cheek, and gently she turned my head toward hers. Her lips were on mine.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?" she said when my response to her kiss was catatonic.
A tear slipped down my cheek, but I didn't speak. I couldn't. I wanted to scream with joy and throw her on her back. I wanted to do so much. It was like my brain was the engine and my body the transmission, but the clutch was out. Like a burning fire, her fingers slid from my cheek down my body to rest on my cock. He was sound asleep. She sighed and pulled away, sitting with her hands folded in her lap.
"Don't you like me?" she whispered.
"I like you very much. I think you're beautiful," I replied, but I still made no move toward her.
She walked to the chair facing the bed and sat down.
"Have you ever seen a woman undress?"
I shook my head.
"Watch me," she said.
She wore loafers with low heels. Legs crossed, she extended the toes of her right foot and slipped her shoe off. I watched another shoe slip to the floor. She began unbuttoning her blouse. I realize now, years later, she was being provocative to stimulate me to action. When it was happening, I still didn't move. When she pulled off her pantyhose and dropped them on the floor, she was left in a bra and panties, standing, watching me. She looked exasperated.
"Let's try this," she said as she took my hand and pulled me to my feet.