Part 13

Steve kissed Shannon again. After all, that's what they'd gone to all this trouble to get. He hugged her to him by her butt. As the kiss went on, he raised his hands up her back under her sweatshirt. She shivered.

He dropped his hands and held her butt again for a moment. When he raised his hands the next time, they were outside her sweatshirt and in front.

She put both hands on his face and held it while her tongue entered his mouth. "Why don't you wash your hands again?" she asked. Good idea. He kissed her on the nose and went into the bathroom. He used the facilities. (She'd been right -- his hand was cold.) Then he washed his hands thoroughly under water as hot as he could stand.

He left the bathroom light on and went around the room closing the drapes. The light from the bathroom -- the light through the drapes, for that matter -- was quite enough. Still, when he was done the room afforded a little more privacy. Shannon thought it looked a little like a cave.

When he came back to her, he held her face for a deep kiss. "Better?" he asked.

"Your kisses still give me goosebumps."

"You're sweet. Silly, but sweet."

"That's my line," she said. "Brosna?"

"Did you look it up?"

"Sure. It's a river."

"A river," he pointed out, "that flows into the Shannon river. Logically, I should have used something which flows out of the Shannon river, but -- even for a fantasy -- I couldn't see naming a kid 'Atlantic.'"

"I'm glad you have some limits." She was laughing.

He kissed along her neck until he reached her earlobe. He pulled her against him while he sucked that in. This time, when his hands slid up under her sweatshirt, she didn't object. She did shiver when he scratched her back lightly, but she also sank against him. At least, she thought, Steve isn't rushing into this.

Remembering his image of post-wedding behavior, he lifted the waistband of her sweatshirt. After a moment, she raised her arms.

He flung the shirt towards a chair. Then he started kissing all the skin he could reach. They had more than three hours for kissing, after all. He figured that he could cover all of her skin in that time. And the critical bit? Would she let him? Probably this wasn't a good day to try. They'd already had a longer argument than he wanted to have this day.

She saw that she'd been right. This kissing of the shoulders and neck was a preparation for intercourse. And, if her own feelings were any guide, an effective preparation. Steve didn't have any more experience than she had, but he seemed to know what he was doing. When his lips reached her stomach, however, her legs felt weak. She pushed him away. He was still fully dressed. She started to unbutton his shirt.

Steve wasn't sure where this was going, but he wasn't about to ask any questions right then. He stood still, except that his hands roved over her shoulders and arms. Anything more would interfere with her actions. When she reached the last button she could, he pulled the rest of his shirt out of his pants. When he'd thrown the shirt towards a chair, he raised his arms for her to remove the t-shirt.

This time the kiss was even better. So much of them touched; only her bra interfered above the waist. The room wasn't really cold, but the warmth of the skin was pleasant, as well as the consciousness that this was Shannon he was touching.

"Turn around," he said as he broke the kiss. There were still parts of her front he hadn't kissed, but he wanted access to those lovely breasts.

He lifted her hair to kiss the back of her neck. Slowly, he kissed her spine down until the bra strap interfered. He unsnapped it and kept on kissing downward. He stopped just above the waist of her jeans.

He straightened and pulled her against him. The skin of her back was warm against his chest. Her abdomen was smooth and firm under his hands. Her breasts were even smoother and so soft. He held them for a minute before his fingers started to tease her nipples. He kissed the back of her head, keeping his lips closed against her hair.

But the tiny bit of her spine wasn't the important part that the bra had covered. He removed the bra completely and dropped it on her other clothes on the chair. At a slight tug on her shoulder, she turned to face him.

Left hand on her clothed butt and right hand on her breast, he kissed her forehead. He skipped her mouth on the way down, but kissed her cheek, neck, and shoulder on the road to her breasts.

He raised his left hand so he could press both breasts against his face as he kissed the valley between them. He kissed up her breast, dropping his left hand to give him access. He stopped just at the line of her areola to look at the nipple straining towards him.

"Oh Shannon," he said. Then he kissed it, sucked it.

Shannon felt fire radiate from that kiss. Her knees felt weak. When he removed his mouth, she stepped back to sit on the bed.

Was she saying 'no'? He looked at her and she opened her arms. He went to the bed, tilted her chin up with one finger, and kissed her thoroughly. He leaned over and kissed each nipple before kneeling in front of her. He took each foot in his hands to untie the sneakers. This didn't reveal anything new, really. She was still wearing socks.

He pushed one leg of her jeans above the sock. He kissed her shin though the panty hose. He pulled off that sock. Then he repeated the process on the other leg. He kissed each ankle through the hose. Shannon had cute feet as feet went. Still, they couldn't compete with her breasts. He looked at those again, but this wasn't the time for that.

He rose back to his feet and held out his arms to her. She took his hands to pull herself up.

He struggled with the jeans for a moment. Why did girls have zippers on the side? She grinned, but didn't offer to help. When they began to come down, he saw the white panties. "Oh, Shannon! " he said. There was some complicated set of equipment underneath the panties. Had she worn a chastity belt? When he got the jeans lower, he saw the separate nylons. "Oh, Shannon! " he said again. "Oh, darling! "

"You like?" She was grinning.

"I like." That wasn't strong enough. She sat down again to allow the jeans to come off completely. He heatedly kissed the skin above the tops of the nylons. The things that attached them were another puzzle, but she still didn't offer any help.

He slowly eased one of the nylons down, kissing her leg as he went. This was too delicate to toss towards the chair; he walked to the chair and draped it over the back. Then, he repeated the same process with the other leg. She leaned over and undid his belt. He held his pants up while he walked to another chair and sat down. He removed his sneakers and socks before stripping off the pants. He left the sneakers on the floor and the rest of his clothes on the chair.

Shannon had intended to undress Steve as he undressed her. She did see, however, that he'd been bright enough to start with her shoes. His jockey shorts didn't hide his erection very well. Her shivers weren't all because the room was rather cool, but that was part of it. She raised the covers and slipped in. The sheets were cold.

Steve lifted covers and looked a question at her.

"Come on in," she said. He slipped into the bed. He kissed her. Their skin was touching almost everywhere.

He could feel her nipples pressing against his chest. "Oh, Shannon," he said. He'd been saying that a lot recently. "I love you."

He was lying over her with his knees on either side of hers. She could feel his hardness press against her thigh as his tongue invaded her mouth. According to the sex-ed classes he was ready, but he didn't seem to be doing anything about it. Instead, he moved off to the side, still touching her, and kissed all over her face. Then he kissed lower, along her neck and then her shoulder.

He kissed each breast alternatively. Her nipples ached for his touch before he gave it. Then, it was the lightest lick on her right nipple. By the time he got around to sucking one (the left), she needed it so much that she held his face to it with her right hand. Her left was nearly trapped under him.

Steve felt he was in heaven. When he kissed her mouth, she kissed him back. When he kissed her neck, she wiggled delightfully -- provocatively -- under him. When he kissed her nipple, she held his head in encouragement. Of course, he was totally -- painfully -- erect. But this wasn't about him, this was about them; and his erection wasn't going to be about them until Shannon decided. Maybe it wasn't going to be about them until their wedding night.

Right then, he was ready to make that decision. She was so responsive; he loved her so much. When he could tear his mouth away from her breasts and kissed her belly, she wiggled so erotically.

The room, if it had been a little cool for sitting around almost naked, was still warmer than her room at home. With Steve under the covers with her, she was soon toasty warm. Steve's kisses were heating her up, as well. He ducked his head under the covers when he started kissing her breasts, and he stayed down where she couldn't see him. She could sure feel him, though. He was kissing her everywhere.

Would he want to kiss her there? Would she let him? The books made it sound so nice. Besides, she was done with saying 'no' to Steve. The thought made her writhe in embarrassment. She couldn't decide; she'd let the moment decide for her.

Steve was kissing her belly while she wiggled under him. Wiggling under him, that was so erotic a concept. He came up the bed to kiss her mouth. It opened for him, and her tongue welcomed his. He held a breast in each hand, cupping them, almost as if he were judging their weight. His left hand stroked lower, passed over her quivering belly.

He brushed her panties. White panties! Not that he could see their color like this. His hand continued on to stroke her thighs, stroke the insides of both thighs at once.

The feelings were nearly unbearable. Shannon spread her legs. Suddenly, Steve kissed her; his tongue invaded her mouth and sought hers. While she was dealing with that, his hand clasped her mound through her panties. She spread her legs wider as his fingers began to rub her.

Steve abandoned Shannon's lovely mouth in favor of her even- lovelier breasts. Her nipples were so hard and so responsive. He sucked one and then the other. Shannon was breathing hard, and she was raising her center rhythmically. Her mound pressed several times a minute against his hand.

Shannon delighted in the attention Steve was paying to her body. Every stroke of his fingers, every touch of his lips, warmed her. But she needed more, oh! how she needed something more. And then she got it. A fire shot through her again and again. It was ecstasy; it was too much. And, then, it was over. She clamped her legs together and rolled away from him. She gasped in air, unable to get enough.

Steve was glorying in her response to him, and then she rolled away. The emotional chill was matched by a physical chill on his back; Shannon seemed to have taken the covers with her as she rolled. He readjusted the covers and snuggled against her back.

She didn't do anything to push him away. He lay like that for a moment.

"Shannon, what's wrong?"

She reached back to take his hand. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's wonderful." Then she needed her breath. After a bit, she took his hand and hugged it with both of hers against her breast.

He didn't find her statement very convincing, but the feel of her breasts against his left hand was something he couldn't resist. First he cuddled her top one, and then he stroked the nipple with thumb and index finger.

"Do you mind?" she said. He stopped immediately.

"That's not necessary." How could she put this? His chest felt so nice and warm against her back. His hand felt so good on her breast. She didn't want him to go away, she just wanted that hand to stay. It was just... "Just be very gentle with that. They are sensitive just now."

"Did I hurt them? Did I suck too hard? Is that why you rolled away?"

"No. I don't know. It was just awfully much right then."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I wanted it, and then I didn't." Did Steve want the word 'climax'? "I love you."

He was slowly figuring out that she'd come to an orgasm. It was too bad she'd rolled away, but that wasn't rejecting him. He pulled his arm so he was hugging her arm and body, but his hand wasn't putting pressure on her breast. "I love you, too."

She could feel his arm cuddling her and his hand cuddling her in a different way. She could feel his warmth against her back and his hardness against her butt. According to the sex-ed books, he was ready. At least he wasn't rushing, for which she was grateful. She suddenly suspected that the sex-ed books were damn poor preparation. They didn't teach driver's ed out of books.

Still, he sure felt like he was ready. And she was ready, which she hadn't been a few minutes ago. He was still thoughtful of her, still Steve.

Steve loved the feel of Shannon against his chest, Shannon's breast in his hand, Shannon's legs against his, Shannon's butt separated by only a few pieces of cloth from his raging erection. He began stroking her nipples as gently as his fingers could move. Shannon shivered; he could feel the motion against his entire body.

He missed the feel of her breast in his hand, but he needed to stroke more of her. He caressed her delightful belly, slightly curled in this position, her thighs, her mound covered by panties. They were white panties, lovely panties, panties promising even more delights on a later day. Nice as they were to imagine, pleasant as their feel under his hand, the hair and mound underneath them would be even more arousing. He thought that Shannon might allow him to remove them now. It was, at least, worth a try. He put his fingers under the elastic at her waist and stopped.

Now? Shannon thought. Was this the time? Well, he'd been thoughtful; she'd already had a climax; she was ready for more. But one thing was missing. He'd promised to provide a condom.

Safe time or not, she wasn't going to take that risk.

"Did you bring something?" she asked.

"Something?" Steve hadn't a clue what she could mean.

"In your stories you always provide a contraceptive."

Steve didn't think she could actually mean it. Still, his cock lurched at the thought. Whatever she meant, it was time to get out what he had packed. He climbed out of bed, opened up the suitcase, and brought out the sock-covered box. For good measure, he brought out the paper bag with his other preparations. That he put on the nightstand on what had been his side.

Back in bed, he pulled the box out of the sock and opened it. He tore one packet off, and put the box and the packet on the nightstand. "Is that what you wanted?"

Shannon nodded.

"Then kiss me." She did. Conscious that the brief trip had cooled his hands, he held them between his thighs.

That didn't warm them fast enough to risk touching her. So he broke the kiss, climbed over her, and kissed her again with his chest against her breasts and his legs on both sides of hers. His tongue invaded her mouth; his chest rubbed against her hard nipples and just felt the supporting softness; his erection pressed against her mound. All this contact was tremendously exciting, but he remembered that -- unless he blew it -- he would get even more contact soon.

Shannon was pretty sure that he needed to be between her legs, and her panties -- his underpants for that matter -- needed to be off. Then she figured out that Steve was waiting even longer. That was good... maybe. Anyway, it was a reminder that Steve didn't grab. The kiss was exciting; the reminder was reassuring; so was the prompt surfacing of the protection, for that matter. All in all, she could let herself go. She sure wanted to let herself go. She hugged Steve and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.

Steve kissed all over Shannon's face. He pulled the covers over his head as he moved lower. He spent a lot of time on her breasts, kissing all over her right breast before he reached the nipple. He enjoyed sucking there, but reminded himself that he had to give equal time to the right one. Rolling over to that side took all the covers with him. He solicitously tucked them around Shannon before resuming the kissing.

The flat plane Shannon had lain down on originally had turned into a nest. Partly it was the mattress's indentation under their combined weight. Partly it was the pillows pushed to each side by this time. The culmination was the sheet and blankets Steve had settled around her so carefully. The world, so chilly and blustery this time of year, was banished. She was surrounded by warmth, and Steve was providing much of that warmth. She was damn-near surrounded by Steve, for that matter. And his mouth on her breast was sending shivers through her body.

When he reached for her panties this time, Shannon raised her hips. Getting them off with him entirely under the covers was a bit of a problem, and he had to tuck her in again. Then, though, he could feel all of her. He stroked her silky curls for a minute. He took his hand lower, and then stroked upwards between her thighs. When he got to the juncture, she parted her legs more. He touched her lower lips.

"Oh, Shannon." He moved up in the bed to kiss her again.

Their tongues touched; his fingers were stroking her very lightly. She could feel the excitement rise.

When he parted those lips, he could feel her dampness. She was ready for him! He explored what he had seen only in his dreams, constantly reminding himself to be very careful. This was the ultimate delicacy of his delicate love. His chest was pressed against her in this position, and he could just feel the softness of her breast. Suddenly, he had to kiss it again.

He stroked between her lips while he sucked at the nipple. Her hand came down to grasp his wrist. He'd always stopped when she wanted him to stop; he'd told himself that he always would. Could he stop this time? But she didn't push him away.

Instead, she pulled his hand against her. Grateful, he stroked again, feeling the slickness. He sucked again, tasting the firmness.

She was tremendously aroused by his strokes. She wanted more, more pressure, faster motion. She pulled him against her to increase the sensations, but his motions didn't get harder. She could feel her climax waiting just inches from her. With his gentle motions, though, it stayed inches away. She ached for it, panted for it, but it didn't come.

And then it did.

She soared away into joy. "Ah! " she said.

Shannon was arching against his hand, writhing on the bed. She said something inarticulate. Her orgasm seemed to go on forever.

And then it ended. He dropped his hand and raised his mouth immediately. She lay panting beside him, sounding like she'd run a mile. She was damp with sweat. Scared of the outside air hitting her like that, he carefully tucked the covers around her again. Slowly, her breathing became more normal. She shivered once, and then turned her face towards him.

"Steve?"

"Yes. I love you."

"Love you, too. Do you think it's time?"

He'd thought it was time since the summer. But he didn't say that. He pushed down his shorts and reached for the packet. He'd only put on a condom once before, for practice. His hand shook as he eased this one on his tip and rolled it down. It was greasy, and he held the sheet away from it. Getting between her legs like that was a bit clumsy.

Shannon came down a little from her excitement while Steve got into position. His fingers weren't at all as exciting spreading her labia as they had been stroking between them. His covered thing was slippery and a little chilly. "Is it okay?" he asked.

Fine time to ask. Still, he wasn't taking her for granted, even now. She nodded; her decision was made.

He was there! Where he had imagined himself so many times. She nodded. "Oh, Shannon," he said. "I love you." And he loved her more than he ever had, more than he could have imagined possible, as he pushed into her. At first, it wouldn't go. He had to remind himself to be gentle.

And then, something shifted, and he was entering her. The feeling around his cock was a tight clasp and, even through the rubber, warmth. The feeling was exquisite, somehow softer than his grip had ever been, and all around him. He was conscious of a drive to just shove into those warm depths, but he kept himself moving slowly. When he checked her face, she didn't seem to be in pain. She didn't look like she was in any sexual rapture either; more like she was interested.

Finally, after what seemed to be hours -- albeit delightful hours -- of pressing into her, his pubic hair was against hers. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She felt him spreading her as he entered. It was neither the pain nor the sensual delight that different novels had suggested. His fingers had brought more pleasure. Still, they were doing it; that had to count for something.

She shifted under him, spreading her legs and bending them more.

He adjusted himself too. They were still pressed against each other for their entire length. He could still feel her around his cock and against his body. "I am now," she said.

"Can I move?"

"Oh yes."

If anything, the sensations he felt moving outward were more intense. She clasped him at the most sensitive spot just under the head of his cock. Then he went inward again. Soon, he was moving in and out faster and faster. He felt what seemed like an explosion in the back of his head, and then he was thrusting against her trying to go deeper without any progress. "Shannon! " he said. And he was shooting into her, again and again. Then he collapsed onto her softness and gasped. It had never been like that, never.

The sensations she felt started to be more like the excitement his finger had provided. And watching his face gave a real feeling of power. She was the reason he looked like that, the reason he sped up like that, the object of his evident desire as he pressed against her so hard. It did jump within her as it had jumped in her hand. And, then, he dropped onto her and panted in her ear. He was heavy, but even that was nice. If she felt mildly desirous, she felt extremely desired.

Then he was just heavy. As he regained his breath, he shifted to support a little of his weight himself. He kissed her shoulder, hugged various places; but soon he was shrinking out of the rubber. He had to dispose of it and the mess. "I have to go," he said. He grabbed the bag on his way.

She thought he looked a little silly, holding the base against him as he went. But he had taken responsibility. And he had brought her joy. And he had called her name at his climax. Not telling much, she didn't hear as much as some of her friends did. She had heard stories, though. Steve had known who he was with.

They had done it, and she was glad. Still, Steve's worry about check-out time had been wasted. They had done everything, and it couldn't be eleven yet. If what they had done hadn't been dirty, and it had -- a little, she felt a somewhat soiled. She wondered how long she'd have to wait until she could wash up without insulting him. She wondered what they would do afterwards; make out? Making out seemed beside the point.

Steve was half-tempted to dump the thing in the toilet. Still, all his training was against flushing anything that wouldn't dissolve. He tied a knot in the middle, twisted it into a lump, and wrapped it in toilet paper. He dumped it in the wastebasket. He rinsed himself off, used the toilet, and washed his hands with water as hot as he could stand. He brushed his teeth. He rinsed his hands under the hot water again and dried them.

She watched it bob up and down a little bit as he walked back. Both of them looked a little proud of themselves. Maybe they deserved to be. Still, his hands were the only part of him which was even nearly warm enough when he climbed back in the bed. She shivered when he kissed her neck. Then she returned his kiss.

"Toothpaste! " she said.

"I brought a new brush for you." He thought the kiss he got in response was more enthusiastic than any he had received that morning. "It's in the bag. The toothpaste is in the medicine cabinet."

The shape he saw, spreading out from her waist in broad abundance, hadn't been much hidden by swimsuits -- not even by tight skirts and jeans. Still, some of her hair was visible between her legs; enough that he could convince himself that he saw the parting. The clutch and relaxation of muscles was different, too; and the parts shook up and down in a new way as she walked to the door.

Why, he mused as the door closed on her, were girls so sexy from behind? It wasn't that he particularly wanted to thrust himself into her that way. He'd been where he belonged, hoped to return there soon, and regarded anything else as a poor imitation at best. Maybe it was just the spread of their legs, the reminder that there was standing room.

She was already chilled when she closed the door. Still, the lubrication -- welcome at the time -- was starting to feel icky.

She washed her face, a few other critical areas, and down there most carefully of all. She used the toilet, dried herself, and washed her hands. She was chilly by now, and she hadn't brought anything with her, neither makeup nor brush; the robe was at home. She did brush her teeth carefully. She turned off the light and headed back to her place in bed at a fast walk. It was that or get dressed.

She looked so brave then. Sexy, certainly, with her nipples bobbing up and down nearly in synch. Attractive, as her legs scissored together to hide the secrets he had so recently visited, and then apart to reveal their beginning. Beautiful, as he saw the hair on her mound bushed out for the first time, not crushed down as the panties left it. But she looked brave more than any of that; bared to his view, she accepted that bareness.

She walked around the bed to her side; there was another glimpse of that rear-view sexiness.

Then it was pressed against him, and more than a little chilly. He tucked the sheets around her carefully and cuddled her. When she lay curled up like that, she had a bit of a belly to fit into his hand. The big knuckle of his index finger rested against her navel; his pinky just brushed her hair; and the space between fit into his palm. Knowing that she was proud of her slimness, that she would straighten if he mentioned it, he cuddled this little bit of her.

With his foot, he tried to move the last piece of blanket over her leg. When that failed, he moved his hand outside the covers again to flick this bottom part over them both. He kept his leg curled over hers under the blanket. Snaking his arm back inside the warm covers, he tucked everything real tight around them. Then he held her breast. "Y'know?" he whispered. "I love you."

He reached his lips up to kiss the back of her ear.

He held her breast in his hand, supporting its weight, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. He kissed her shoulder and other places he could reach from behind her. His cock grew again, moving itself along the softness of her hips.

Shannon saw that she'd been right. Kissing her breasts was part of making out; kissing the back of her neck was part of making love. And he'd been right, too. They needed this time. With his body heat and his careful tucking of the covers, she was getting quite warm. Even so, she shivered at his next kiss.

"I love you," he said.

She turned so she could face him. "Love you, too." And then she kissed him on the lips. It was a simple kiss, but the follow-up involved tongues and holding. His bottom hand held her right breast, and his other hand tucked her in again. But there was a lot of stroking involved in the tucking in.

There was a pillow behind her waist and another behind his head.

They were breathing each other and the space between as much as the outside air. She could smell him, and a bit of herself, and a strong whiff of what they had done. Under the rubber smell, and she was quite determined not to complain about that, the total was somehow earthy.

She kissed him again, invading his mouth for once. He welcomed her tongue with his, and scratched her back with his free hand. She moved closer to him in response, one breast pressing into his trapped palm, the other brushing against his chest. As his hand passed over her hip, she pressed that toward him as well. Suddenly his penis was pressed between her thighs and moving upward. She froze.

"Sorry," he said.

The kiss was broken already. "Don't be." She moved back enough that it was lying lower on her hip. "What do you call it anyway?"

"My cock, usually. And what do you call yours?" Then, before she could deny having one, "you know what I mean."

"You're going to laugh," she said.

"Tell me! " He could imagine some secret phrase from girl culture.

"My vagina."

"That's fine." Shannon was a class act. Other girls had cunts or pussies; she had a vagina. "But it does leave off the front porch." he caressed over her mound and between her legs. "I like this part a lot... Not that I don't like the other -- your vagina."