A Most Unusual Passage
Copyright© 2026 by J&J
Chapter 40
I lay naked under the covers, trembling with excitement, certain that any second, I would hear Roger’s footsteps on the stairs. But I heard no sound at all from downstairs.
Gradually my excitement turned to doubt, and I was certain I would hear the sound of the front door as he left. And still I heard nothing at all.
Had he managed to leave, and I didn’t hear the door? Just possible, but I certainly would hear him start his Jeep. Just to make sure, I silently crept out of bed, over to the window and peeked down at the drive way. The Jeep was still parked where he had left it. I carefully crept over to the door, listened and heard absolutely nothing. If he had fallen asleep, he wasn’t snoring.
I got back in bed and waited. And waited. This was certainly not going the way I had envisioned it. In fact, it didn’t seem to be going at all. I was feeling frustrated, puzzled, foolish and now more than a little angry. I had just decided to storm down the stairs and demand an explanation when I heard movement downstairs. I froze, scarcely able to breathe. They seemed to be coming towards ... yes; the footsteps were definitely on the stairs. As always, Roger moved without hesitation, but there seemed to be a thousand steps, and my excitement grew with each one. By the time the doorknob started to turn, I was afraid I was going to pass out.
The door opened, and as soon as I saw those blue eyes, all my fears and hesitation ended, and I knew exactly what I wanted. I simply pulled back the corner of the covers in invitation and waited. Roger walked to the side of the bed, but to my dismay, he sank to his knees beside it and took my hands. To the question in my eyes, he shook his head gently, and I knew immediately he was not here to make love. I was crushed and mortified. I tried to roll away, so I wouldn’t have to face him, but he held my hands and wouldn’t let me.
I lashed out in my pain and anger. “If you’re not here to make love to me, then what the hell are you doing in my bedroom?”
“I am here to explain, because I knew you wouldn’t understand unless I did.”
“What is there to understand?” I asked bitterly. “You don’t want to make love to me; you don’t find me desirable. And you let me make a total fool of myself all evening long.”
“You see what I mean? You are completely and totally wrong in everything you just said. And if you stopped and thought about the evening, you would realize it. Why is it that women are so completely unprepared to rationally handle the concept that a man can find you extremely desirable and want you and still not hop right into bed with you? I’m only saying no to having sex; I’m not saying no to you. Am I so terrible to say no to making love tonight?”
“Because I’ve never heard it before,” I lashed out angrily. “It’s not a term men use a great deal. So you’ll have to explain it to me. Explain to me how no, I don’t want to make love to you is not a rejection.”
“I do want to make love to you, very much. And I didn’t lead you on, or let you make a fool of yourself. I was on the other side of the same kiss you were, and I felt the same things you did. I think we’re both aware that we have something very special happening here, and for me, something that’s never happened before.”
“I never felt like this either, Roger. But I know how to express what I feel. Why are you holding back?”
“That’s why I sat downstairs so long,” he continued. “There is a me that wants you now. That wants it all now. But there is another side of me. I had a wonderful time with you at the movies this afternoon, and got a thrill just from having your head on my shoulder, a thrill I haven’t experienced from such a simple and innocent touch since I was 15. I enjoyed cooking dinner with you. I loved playing my guitar for you.
“What I’m trying to say is I don’t want this sweet courtship to get lost in the powerful physical attraction we feel for each other. In fact, the very strength of those feelings makes me want to take my time all the more. You slowly sip a grand cru Bordeaux so that you have time to enjoy every nuance of the bouquet and the complex blend of flavors. This is no ‘Bud Lite’ romance to be consumed in a single night and just as quickly forgotten.
“So that, my lovely, wonderful Elizabeth, is the reason, and the ONLY reason, I’m about to do one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. I’m going to kiss you tenderly on the cheek, and wish you good night, and go home to enjoy a very long, cold shower.”
“Roger, you can’t possibly mean that...” He kissed my cheek. “Roger, I warning you, I’m fair and truly seduced, and I expect some follow through.”
“Good night, sweet Elizabeth.” He started down the stairs.
“God damn you, Roger; this isn’t fair!” I heard the front door open. “DO YOU REALLY THINK I’M GOING TO PUT UP WITH THIS CRAP?”
Even from downstairs, his voice carried. “I’m really banking on it.” And then I heard the door close”
“God damn,” I cried out to the empty room. “What’s a girl have to do to get laid in this town?”
The next day was one of the last days of school. At least, I think it was. I was sort of in a daze that day. Fortunately, Glenda had already arranged to take my classes for a special presentation on effective research. Glenda is capable of putting together the kind of special class that can actually hold the students’ attention in those last few days before the end of school. That left me to wander around the office, while I tried to sort out my feelings. One minute, I would be swept away with the incredible romance behind the gesture and mooning away like a love-sick school girl. Then I would reject the whole thing as utter bullshit and try to fathom what was really going on. Which usually got me really angry, at least until I remembered those eyes, and then the roller coaster would go around again.
Finally Fancy could stand it no longer. She came in and shut the door. “Oh my, that certainly must’ve been some first date. I’ve been trying to judge by your mood, but, girl, you’re all over the map. What the hell happened? Was it great, or was it a disaster?”
“Huh?” I replied. “Oh, don’t be sill; we had a ... ah ... nice time, but after all, it was only a first date ... oh hell, Fancy, the truth is, I have no frigging idea what happened. I don’t know if we’re engaged, or never seeing each other again or what.”
“You must have some idea what happened. Weren’t you there?”
“Yeah, I’m just not so sure where he is.”
“Yeah, right, whatever you say.” Fancy beat a hasty retreat. Minutes later I saw her having a lively conversation on the phone that involved frequent glances my way. Someone was getting a full report.
As I left school, heading home, I found Martha waiting for me. She opened her car door. “Hop in, Elizabeth; you and I are going riding this afternoon.”
We went by my place just long enough to change, and before I knew it, we were riding out across the fields. Martha soon called a stop and pulled her horse up beside mine.
“Okay, let’s have it. Fancy says you were walking around all day like you’ve been hit on the head with a two by four. So I’m guessing we’re not talking cologne allergy. So are you planning to tell your best girl friend what did happen?”
“Well, I can certainly try, but I’m not completely sure myself. It was like a dream come true. He was everything I had ever dreamed of and more, and I’ve had some pretty hot dreams.”
“Wow, this I have got to hear. Tell me the whole story, and don’t leave out a single juicy detail.”
So I told Martha about the whole day: the ride; the movie; fixing dinner; even the foot massage. Retelling the story made me realize that Roger was right; if I thought about our time together, I would know my thoughts about rejection were nonsense. It was obvious from the events of the day; this was a story of two people having very strong and tender feelings for each other.
“It was after the guitar serenade that I just wanted to be in his arms, and then we kissed. It was unlike any kiss, anything I had ever experienced; it burned like fire; it was cold as ice. I breathed with him; my heart beat with his. It was pure sex, and yet much more than sex. I was lost. And I looked into his eyes, and he was, too. I saw pure animal hunger there. He wanted me, as much as I wanted him.”
“So what did you do,” asked Martha.
“I whispered in his ear that I was going upstairs to my bed, and I would be lying naked under the covers, waiting, if he cared to join me.”
“I see you decided on the subtle approach,” laughed Martha, shaking her head. “Well, whatever it lacked in subtlety, it made up for in being one of the hottest invitations any man ever dreamed of. So after that little bombshell, what did Roger do?”
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I could hardly get the words out. “Nothing; he did nothing! What does it mean when a man turns down a woman begging for him to make love?”
“I don’t know.”
“No, Martha, go ahead; I have to know. It means he really thinks you’re disgusting, doesn’t it?”
“No, I mean I just don’t know. It has never happened.”
“Oh God, I knew it. You mean you’ve never ever had a man reject you like that?”
“No, I mean I’ve never heard of a man acting that way. I mean, he isn’t gay; he likes sex; he’s no virgin, and it’s obvious that you turn him on in a big way. This doesn’t make sense. When you said he did nothing, you mean he just ran out the door and went home?”
I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. “No, he came upstairs and tried to explain why he wasn’t making love, but it didn’t make sense, or maybe I just wasn’t really in a listening mood.”
“Yes, I can imagine you weren’t. But listen to me now, Elizabeth; this could be important. I want you to put your anger and all your emotions aside for a moment. Try to remember, and tell me everything he said.”
And so I carefully told Martha exactly what Roger had come upstairs to say and how he kissed me on the cheek and left. Martha was obviously surprised and moved by the story.
Martha shook her head. “That boy is some special piece of work. At my age, I thought I had heard just about everything a man could say to a woman. And heaven knows, nothing makes them more creative than a chance to get laid. But I can’t recall ever hearing of a man getting that creative not to get laid.”
“What do you think, Martha?” I asked. “Should I accept what he’s saying at face value? Do you think Roger really cares for me?”
“Oh, yes, I do. I can’t see any possible reason for him to lie. Men don’t generally turn down a chance for sex with a beautiful woman. It’s not in their nature. Besides, Elizabeth, I have watched you around men enough, so that I’m sure you knew that he was physically turned on, before you propositioned him. Didn’t you?”
I blushed. “Busted. You’re right; I would never have taken such a chance, without being sure that he was really interested. I definitely had visual and tactile proof that Roger was very much turned on. I believe there is an expression guys use about driving nails that would fit.”
“Well, honey, that’s all the proof you’ll ever need. The rest of a man’s body can lie, but that is the one part you can believe. So we know for a fact that Roger very much did want to make love with you, and yet he didn’t. I think you have to believe he’s sincere. And lucky you, because the idea of deliberately taking a relationship slowly, just to savor the moment of each and every step, has got to be one of the most romantic ideas I have ever heard.”
I sat quietly thinking for a few moments, and then said,” I guess you’re right. It’s very flattering being thought of as a fine wine, but last night, I really wanted to be a Bud Lite.”
Martha laughed so hard I was afraid she would fall off her horse. “I can imagine you did. But listen to me. I know you wanted it all last night, and I can’t blame you. But do you have any idea what it’ll be like, going back to your most innocent age and reliving the thrill, but without the fear.”
I looked at her puzzled. “I’m not sure I quite understand what you mean.”
“Think back, Elizabeth; do you remember the first time you let a boy touch your breast? What was it like?”
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