Chapter 5

Friday 13th February to Saturday 4th April 1970

I think when she displayed herself to me naked, that was the moment the line was crossed, no matter what Penny might have thought. She came into my arms with her legs shamelessly spaced and pressed herself against me. Her arms went round my neck, which pressed her taut tipped tits against my chest, and her mound against my already grown erection. We kissed gently and lovingly at first and then (and I can’t remember who took the lead), increasingly voracious and abandoned.

We drew breath and moved rapidly to the bed where we entwined and kissed some more. Things became more and more passionate until either she lay back, legs wide open, or I pushed her. In any case she definitely pulled me over her, of that I am absolutely sure, so that I was laying between her open thighs and my aching cock was pushing along her now not so secret valley.

I pulled away a little, conscious of the danger to he virtue, but she angled her hips, and the tip of me was in her. I stopped at the edge, between her labia, but she grasped my bottom and pulled me further in, and I sank to the hilt.

She had her eyes closed, she was breathing deeply. I pulled back slowly and she whimpered, I pushed back in and she moaned. I did it again, she moaned again. Then I stopped. She made a movement to do it again, then she stopped as well.

There was war going on in my head (the big one), some of it below consciousness. There was the biological drive to copulate and impregnate, conflicting with emotional warning bells and sirens screaming that this was a bad idea. There was the warm silky feeling of her vagina clasping me urging and impelling me to stroke in and out and feel that indescribable pleasure of her body, and everything else in me shouting to stop before I did something quite stupid and irreversible.

Just a few strokes, just a few. Do it slowly, you’re nowhere near coming. Oh that feeling! That was the temptation. Then a fleeting thought as I lay deep within. There was no resistance, no hymen, no blood?

That stopped me and I gently withdrew, rolled to the side and began to caress her. She opened her eyes and they were full of guilt, and I knew why. She pushed my hand away.

“Graham we shouldn’t have done that. You knew I didn’t want that until I was married.”

She moved away from me in the bed. It provoked annoyance. I was getting the blame – again?

“You knew it as well,” I reposted, “but you went ahead anyway. You pulled me in.”

“I could be pregnant.”

“Unlikely: I was nowhere near; I hardly moved.”

“Some sperm could have leaked out.”

“As I said, highly unlikely.”

“We had no right to take even the slightest risk.”

“Wait a minute. You said full sex only if fully committed. Didn’t we commit to each other tonight, and didn’t you move your hips and push me into you? Or didn’t you mean it when you said you’d marry me?”

“Of course I said I’d marry you, and I meant it, but we shouldn’t take risks like that until we’re married.”

“We could use protection.” I said, knowing the reaction.

“I don’t want rubber between us. I want us to be open to each other and to having a baby. So I don’t want to do it again until we’re married.”

“We’ve not done it at all yet,” I said peevishly. “That was not full sex. We hardly moved, you didn’t come and I certainly didn’t.”

“I don’t care. OK, I want our first time when we do it properly to be without barriers. So don’t try anything like that again.”

That angered me. “I would point out that I pulled out, by myself. My decision not yours. I didn’t notice you pushing me away at any stage. So don’t try loading all the guilt on me.”

I turned my back on her. All the romantic feelings I had had for her had gone. In my book she had ruined a wonderful evening by blaming me for something we both did, and for which I did not feel in the slightest bit guilty.

“Graham...”

“Just go to sleep. You might like to reconsider some of your comments in the morning. You’ve ruined what could have been a beautiful evening. We both did it, I pulled out. I stopped it. You didn’t. So take the blame yourself if you must lay blame. Go on your own private little guilt trip if you can’t admit it to me, but don’t lay it on me. Goodnight.”

Silence, then she turned onto her side facing my back. After a few moments, I could feel her crying.

I turned over and took her in my arms.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I was frightened. Sorry, sorry!”

“All right,” I soothed. “Just get some sleep. We’re both tired.”

She lifted her face for a kiss, which she got, then buried her head into my shoulder.

“I really do love you,” she said quietly.

“And I love you,” I replied. “Now get some sleep.”

Next morning was Valentine’s Day. I woke up to find the bed empty. My spirits dropped as I remembered the last time, when she came out of the bathroom fully dressed, but she came into the bedroom carrying mugs of tea and she was still beautifully naked.

She carefully put the mugs on the two bedside cabinets, giving me a smouldering kiss and climbing back into bed. We drank the tea before she broached the subject.

“I need to say something about last night,” she said, continuing before I could say anything. “I was unfair. After you fell asleep, I couldn’t get off to sleep and I realise now that I made the running. I was so excited and I did want you to make love to me, but once you were inside me I was terrified. But I loved the feeling of you there.

“Then you didn’t do anything and then pulled out. I felt so frustrated and empty. It was so unfair of me to attack you as if you had seduced me. So I’m sorry; it was my fault, not yours.”

It was typical of her. She was true to herself, and wouldn’t let herself get away with anything, but she had gone to the other extreme: instead of blaming me, now she was blaming herself for the whole thing.

She continued, “I’ve decided something. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be sleeping together so often, it’s an accident waiting to happen. So I won’t be coming here so often this term, and if we sleep together, I’ll wear pyjamas.”

Here we go again, I thought, Make decisions without consulting me.

“Just a minute,” I said sharply, “You’ve decided. You’ll not be coming here. You’ll be wearing pyjamas.” Here a note of sarcasm crept in. “D’you know, I really thought we were a couple. I thought couples discussed things, and agreed things together.”

She was quiet. Then, “I can’t do anything right, can I? But I’ve got a lot to lose. I’m the one who might get pregnant, so I think I have a right to make rules, but if you don’t agree...”

I took a breath. “This is how I see it. Last night was a special night. We were both on an emotional high, and things got out of hand...”

“That’s why...”

“No wait. We’ve been together for fourteen months. We’ve got closer, we’ve slept naked together for best part of a year. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but until last night, did I ever give you the slightest feeling that I was going to seduce you?”

“Well, no.”

“And from what you’ve just said, I didn’t last night either. I couldn’t resist when you offered yourself to me. So don’t you think you’re overreacting? If we want to marry it means we want to be together as often as possible, we want to be together for life. Now it seems that the day after we commit to marry, you’re cutting me off.”

“You see,” she said, “losing control like we did last night leads to arguments and anger – and you are angry. But don’t you see? It’s not your self control that worries me, it’s mine. After what I felt last night, I don’t know if I can keep away from you. You understand?”

“If you tell me that you might lose control, you can be sure I won’t let myself be seduced from now on. You know a number of times I’ve asked you to trust me. Have I ever let you down?”

“No, every time it’s been good for me.”

“So trust me again. You want to wait till we marry. OK, I’ll wait. But to keep away from me, you think that’ll help? It’ll make us frustrated and more likely to slip up.”

She thought for a moment. “You’re right, of course. I’d not thought it would make it more likely that we’d go too far, but in any case, I think I’ll be busier this term. There are observations and some practicals.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“I’ll come to you as often as I can, and you could come to me sometimes, just for a day if I have a lot on. How’s that?”

“OK,” I said with resignation. “D’you still want to go and choose your watch?”

She smiled broadly, and nodded. We finished our tea, lay down and hugged and caressed, brought each other off, then lay entwined for a while before getting up for the day. She chose an omega watch with a gold bracelet.

I left the shop blessing the new credit card I’d acquired, which had now a much heavier balance, but I had lighter heart. I got an enthusiastic hug and kiss for my trouble, and after some more shopping we made our way home.

“Darling,” she said, as we drove back to the flat, “When should we announce it? What about Easter? Your family gets together and I have to go visit my parents, and Derek and Ingrid would be there. What do you say?”

Well, she’d learned something about discussing things, so I agreed. No one else needed to know until we were ready to tell them.

“One question they’re going to ask is when are we getting married,” I ventured. “Did you have a date in mind?”

“I thought Easter next year, April.” she said, “Suit you?”

“Suits me,” I said.

The weekend after Valentines, as if to validate what we had discussed, she came for the whole weekend again. She worked for most of the time, but we went to the pub and met Ian. When she came to bed she was naked. That was her all over (yes, yes, because she was naked. I meant she took what I had said about trust seriously). She often showed by her actions that she was implementing important decisions rather than talking further about them.

It was as if she was telling me wordlessly that she trusted me to keep our lovemaking low key, which we did. We pressed ourselves together, we kissed deeply and all over each other’s bodies. We caressed, fingers traced over breasts, over and into crevices, anuses, pussy and cock, we gave orgasms by mouth, and she kept at me until I came in her mouth, after which we kissed and exchanged our tastes. But we never went near missionary or cowgirl or anywhere that might have led to a sound fucking.

When we cuddled afterwards, she thanked me, and said she wanted to feel me in her so badly, but that I had kept her on an even keel. I felt smug, but my body told me I was stupid. Mind over matter, though matter was pushing it!

Many months later, that ordinary weekend spent together proved very important, as did the Saturday 7th, and Sunday the 22nd of March.