Chapter 2: Vivace

"So, what's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yeah, what should I call you? We many know each other in the "Biblical" sense, but I don't recall ever being formally introduced.

"Oh. My. God. You must think I'm such a slut."

"Well, yes, I guess I do, but believe me, you're the most perfect slut I've ever met. Never change."

I could tell that she didn't know if she should laugh or be angry. She decided to laugh, and I kissed her as a reward. This time the kiss had a special intimacy, and although we had just nearly destroyed ourselves on each other's bodies, there was still passion.

"Well, anyway, about the name thing?"

She sighed. "I'm Rebecca Stewart. And, I already know your name. I remembered, but you don't remember me."

She pouted, but it was a poor attempt. Nothing could hide the joy that radiated from every pore of her sated but still naked body.

"Well Rebecca Stewart, as I explained before you got so carried away, I can hardly be blamed for not remembering you."

"I got carried away?" She protested. "You seduced me."

"Hey, you're the one who picked the music and ordered me to play."

"OK, but you started it." She compromised. "We're both guilty."

I let the argument rest, and began to think more serious thoughts. Would I be arrested as a child molester? Where was the rest of the family? How would this all end? Could I have gotten her pregnant? Why did I still feel such a strong attraction to her?

It was all too much to worry about at one time, so I picked the most urgent question first.

"Where is everyone else? If you're a nanny, there must be some family around."

"There is family, but the kids are in day camp right now. Mrs. Scott, the woman I work for, drives them there in the morning, and I pick them up right before lunch. Speaking of which, I'm going to have to get moving."

She rose and gathered up her robe, but didn't put it on. As totally satisfied as I was, I still couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. I've been with my share of attractive women, but never with one so perfectly assembled. It was almost as if she were specially designed to ring all my personal bells.

I began to dress, but I had more questions.

"Look, I know this is sort of indelicate, but I guess I have to ask. Just how old are you?"

"Worried?" She smiled. "Don't be. After what just happened I'd die before I let anyone put you in jail."

"Just answer the question. I don't want you to die for me just yet."

"OK, OK, I'm eighteen, and I'm legal. Aren't you going to ask the next question?"

She was already reading my mind.

"Next question?" I was trying to play dumb, but it was a weak ploy.

"Pregnant. You should be asking if WE could have gotten ME pregnant."

I liked the way she phrased that.

"OK, are you on the pill or the patch or whatever?"

"Actually, no. And, to tell the truth, it was so good that I don't care.

She saw the look of panic in my face and had mercy on me.

"Don't worry. I just finished my period a few days ago. We should be fine."

Then she smiled. "Of course if intense sex can lead to pregnancy, we'll probably have triplets."

I let the issue of birth control drop and considered the next question on my list, the most important one. I didn't know how to ask this one, and, I didn't know what I wanted the answer to be, so, being a man, I ignored it and hoped it would go away. She, being a woman, wasn't about to let me off so easily. And so the duel began.

"Are you married?"

"No, divorced."

"Do you have children?"

"No"

"Are you engaged?" I could almost see her checking off the squares in her mind. "Do you have a girlfriend.?"

"Not engaged, but I do have a girlfriend."

"Live in?"

"Yes."

Her face fell. She donned her robe and pulled it up tight around her neck with both hands.

"Look." I explained. "I certainly didn't come here expecting you to happen. I'm usually very monogamous. What happened was great. It was beyond great, it was astounding, but I still don't know what to make of it. Maybe we should let a little time go by and try to put things into perspective."

It was the correct thing to say, but it was obvious that it was not what she wanted to hear. And she, being a woman, did what women do in situations like this. She began to cry.

"I don't know what I was thinking." She sobbed. "I don't know how I could have gotten so carried away. You must really think I am a terrible slut." Then she went into full blubber mode.

She was beautiful, even with tears streaming down her face, and she looked so vulnerable and pitiful that I had to take her into my arms once again. At first, she stood with her hands clenched against her chest, but as I held her, she relaxed and her arms went around my neck. As she lifted her face to mine, I couldn't resist kissing away the tears, and then I couldn't resist her lips. I held her face in my hands as I searched for the right things to say, and finally it hit me.

"You know, perfect pitch can be a pain, but I can always recognize a true tone. What happened this morning feels as true and as perfect as anything I've ever experienced. I've got a very good feeling."

She smiled, so I knew I was on the right track.

"Let's do this. You have my number, and you can give me yours. We'll take the rest of the day to think about this, and we'll talk tonight. Deal?"

"OK, Deal."

She still had her arms around my neck, and as her face brightened, I had to kiss her again. She was ready, and I couldn't believe how sweet it was. I had to have more, and the kiss just intensified. After almost a minute, we broke for breath. We were both panting.

"I really have to get ready to pick up the kids." She muttered.

"Yeah, and I've already missed my next appointment. I'm going to have to get on the phone and sort that out."

"Yeah." We both breathed almost simultaneously. We broke out laughing and kissed again. There was no stopping this time. Damn the appointments, let the kids wait. There was something inevitable at work here. It was futile to resist.

The robe was gone. My clothing flew off, and the floor in front of the old Steinway got a repeat performance. It was a very old piano, and I'm sure we weren't the first passionate couple who had made love before it. Maybe not the first, but there was not doubt in my mind that we were the most intense in our desire for one another.

The newness had not worn off, but we were more familiar lovers this time and our eagerness was not tempered with even the slightest of doubts. We poured ourselves into each other as if we were trying to become one person, and for a brief instant we may have succeeded. I had never had this feeling before, but at the height of our passion, I really wanted to make her pregnant.