Chapter 7: Reflections of love

When classes were over, Andy picked Marilyn up at the Zeta House. She was waiting for him by the door, and he lifted her for a kiss before getting her things and carrying them to the car.

Once in the apartment, he lifted her for another few kisses before they got down to the serious job of undressing. He opened the closet door so they could use the mirror, then a question struck him.

“Too cold?” He felt that the apartment was warm enough that nakedness was more comfortable. She, however, was more sensitive to coolness than he was.

“Nice and warm.” She joined him in looking at their reflections in the mirror. They watched the reflection as he kissed her shoulder and lightly brushed his fingers over her nipples.

“See, they stand up so prettily.” She looked, even if she didn’t say anything about her beauty. He kept his left hand there while stroked stroking down her torso with his right. When he got to her mound, she spread her legs in invitation. He stayed on the mound, however, playing with the hair there. When she moved to the side, he bent further and stroked the smooth insides of her marvelous legs.

“You’re teasing me,” she complained. She moved his hand between her legs. His cock twitched when he felt her moisture, and she looked directly at the reflection. He kissed what he could reach while stroking between her labia and tweaking her nipples. He could watch her respond to his caresses and respond, as well, to the reflection of her previous responses. She stiffened in his arms. Then, wonderfully, he could feel and watch her writhe in his arms.

He supported her as she slumped in completion and the reflection of her expression went from pain to satisfaction. A flush spread from her face down over her breasts.

“Darling, I love you.” And he did love her, loved her spirit; maybe right then he loved her responsive body even more. “You are so sexy, so beautiful.” She stood without his support. “Love,” he said as he turned her to face him. Her butt was sexy in the mirror, too. He lifted her again to kiss her and suck her nipples.

He carried her to where she could lean against a wall while he kept her up high. They had a short, but wet, kiss. He lifted her a tiny bit higher and grabbed her by the butt.

“Fit me in.” She reached down to spread her labia and aim his cock between them. As he lowered her slowly, she directed him until he was enclosed in her wet warmth. Slowly, he moved her down; slowly, he felt himself enter her more deeply.

“Darling,” he said when he was totally enclosed, hugged by her warmth. She clasped him with her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he carried her back to the mirror. He stood them sideways to the mirror so they could both see everything. Then he lifted her slightly and lowered her again. He could feel, and almost see, himself come out of her and return.

“Darling!” he said. When he began moving, she tightened her legs around his waist and hugged him by the neck. He carried her over to the mirror, stopping when they could both see the view from the side. “Gorgeous,” he said as he raised her far enough that he could see himself entering her. “Oh, love!” He could no longer see, but he could feel her surrounding all of him. When he lifted and lowered her again, she helped with pulls on his shoulders and pushes on his waist. Seeing their movements fed his arousal. Seeing her arousal and his own fed it further. From her expression as her eyes sought every reflection, something of the same was happening to her. She stiffened. He could see it and feel it.

Then he saw and felt her writhing in his arms. He held a shoulder to assure that she didn’t fall, but the motions were driving him towards his own peak. He could see a flush spread from her face to her breasts, but the writhing barely paused. Her clenches around his cock renewed themselves, taking him over the edge.

He thrust upwards into her, raising her upwards rather than entering any more deeply. Then he was pouring into her. He sank down, taking all of his will power in the effort not to simply collapse. Finally, sitting on the floor with nowhere to fall, he relaxed. She pushed off from his lap. He reached back and rolled onto his knees. Then he pushed himself up.

“Bed,” he suggested.

“Later.” She went into the bathroom, and he went to bed. Standing right then was an effort. She soon joined him under the sheet, and he hugged her.

“It’s a little warm for this close of a hug,” she told said.

“When we’re married, we’ll have to have air conditioning in the bedroom.”

“Andy, you haven’t had sex with another woman since we started dating ... That was a question.” Well, it hadn’t sounded like one.

“Nor before ... I’ve never made love with anyone else in my life.” Did she think that another woman had taught him the last position? Really, it had been a combination of reading books and of having an active imagination.

“Well, if you do in the future, it will be a deal breaker. I’ll file for divorce. If you so much as kiss another woman, you’ll sleep on the couch.” That was fair. Well, the principal principle was fair; bringing it up now was weird.

“Okay.” Well, kissing another woman wasn’t something he wanted to do, but what was her definition of ‘another woman’? “The Moppet?”

“Kissing family and such is quite all right. I’ll even let you kiss women over fifty and girls under five.”

“Okay. I won’t.” He hadn’t kissed anyone but Marilyn and the Moppet since Marilyn had accepted a date with him. He didn’t plan to start, but he still wondered what had brought on that question.

“Remember the list of chores I wanted you to learn?” she asked. “You wanted me to write out a list. I think this is a good time to do it.”

“Aww...” Well, he thought it was a much better time to cuddle.

“The goal you articulated was for me to lie in your arms at night. I should work, for the night is coming.” She got out of his arms and then out of the bed. She put on her panties and jeans along with her slippers before sitting down at the table with pencil and paper.

“Pack your dirty clothes?” He might as well do the laundry while she was making the list.

“Yeah. I really feel odd about your doing my laundry.” She got out her dirty clothes, though. Why, for god’s sake did she feel odd about it? She should feel odd about getting up out of his arms. When she insisted that he wash dishes -- including serving dishes -- rather than eating out of cans, that was making him do something that didn’t need to be done. Her laundry was something that damn-well needed to be done. As often as not, it added only minutes to the time he had to spend on doing his own laundry.

“Well, I’ll do chores when we’re married. You said so. That might as well include laundry. It’s a lot for you to carry. So, I’ll do laundry when we’re married. We’re going to be married for this week.” Maybe that was clearer in his mind than it had been in his words. She didn’t look puzzled, though. Indeed, she looked fond of him, which made her getting up even less explicable.

He added the sheets and pillowcases to the laundry. Since Marilyn was here, he made the bed. Then he took the stuff to his usual coin laundry. He loaded the machines. When he’d put bleach in with the white wash, he decided not to sit down. He had Marilyn at home.

“Forget something?” she asked when he came in. At least she hadn’t covered her breasts while he was gone.

“Remembered something.” He kissed her. He lifted her on to the chair, much more comfortable than bending over. He kissed down her neck and to her lovely, bare breasts. “The machine is doing the wash without my help.” Then he went back to licking her nipples.

“So, you decided to come back to do me.” He was hardly doing her; he’d have to go out again too soon.

“Nah! Just some minor tribute to your beauty.” He had ignored part of her beauty though, and he kissed down her torso to her belly button. Then he straightened, and they had a warm, wet kiss.

“I did the list,” she said. He took it and shoved it in his pocket. There was loads of time to deal with the list. He turned Marilyn around on the chair. He kissed her back. When he was kissing each vertebra from the waistband of her jeans upward, he saw his watch. He’d have to leave the rest of his route for another time; the washer was done.

“Time to get stuff in the dryer.” He lowered her from the chair and kissed her goodbye. When he’d got the dryer started, he remembered the list. He pulled it from his pocket.

Vacuum rugs Windows Cook Kitchen surfaces Tub and sink Toilet (Dishes) (Laundry) (Sweep)

Presumably the parentheses were tasks she figured he already knew, though garbage and mowing the lawn weren’t included. Most of them looked reasonable. If Mrs. Bryant were puzzled by what Marilyn wanted him to learn, he could always ask Marilyn to explain. She’d be in Evanston, not on the moon. The cooking, however, was much too general. He already knew how to cook, but he didn’t know how to cook the way Marilyn or Mrs. Bryant did. What did she want him to learn? Steak? Spaghetti? Toasted cheese sandwiches? His cock twitched at the last thought. He always compared Marilyn to a toasted cheese sandwich; she was so crisp on the outside and so gooey and tasty on the inside.

Well, he had the list right here, and a ballpoint in his pocket. He scratched out ‘cook,’ where it was and moved it to a separate column. Now, the list looked like:

CLEAN: Vacuum rugs Windows

Kitchen surfaces

Tub and sink Toilet (Dishes) (Laundry) (Sweep)

COOK:

“I don’t think I could learn to cook everything this summer.” He said when he brought it back to her. “Not even everything Mrs. Bryant cooks during that time. I’ll be in the hardware store most days.”

“You’re right. Let me think.” Her face was so expressive. It was fun watching her think. “Why don’t you learn what she can teach you about lunches and snacks? Does she use cookbooks?”

“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her use them, but, after all, I wasn’t checking on that.”

“Well, I’ll handle the fancy stuff and the main meals. You learn the basic stuff and how to take care of emergencies.” They had a nice kiss before he had to go back for the stuff in the dryer. When he got back, she had covered her breasts and was starting to cook. That was worth watching, even when she was covered up. While watching, he emptied out the laundry on the bed. He put his own stuff away but decided to leave hers until she told him that it was okay.

Her spaghetti was delicious, all the better for his getting to watch her cook it. She sat on his lap after dinner for a kiss. She might have covered herself up, but she didn’t object to his hands on the covered places. He felt her turn to look at her clothes still on the bed.

“Should I have put your stuff away?”

“No. I prefer this.” She got up and put her stuff away. The post-dinner cuddle seemed finished, and they got out their books. She was in his sight, if not in his arms, for the entire evening. Again, he found that her comforting presence helped his studying more than it distracted from it.

Without any demands from the next day, they went to bed early. Remembering his interrupted trip up her backbone, he kissed her from coccyx to skull before she turned over. Not needing a sheet, she writhed in his sight three separate times. He was stroking her towards the fourth when she promised, without any prompting on his part, his dearest wish.

“Andy, every night of our marriage, I’ll sleep in your arms.”

“Oh, darling, I love you!” He couldn’t express how much he loved her right then.

“Then come here and prove it.” Proving it meant entering her sweetness. And that only made him love her more. He exploded as she writhed under him and around him once more. Afterwards, he covered them with a sheet, and she did sleep in his arms. The morning was even better. With no external demands, with his ejaculation of the night before reducing his internal demands, he slowly stroked in her until the forceful rise of her groin against his made him speed up. They came at the same instant and eased back down to doze together.

She made a late breakfast. Afterwards, they set out hand in hand with some books for the campus. They were going to enjoy the weather outside. She lay with her head in his lap, and at first, he read her some poetry. Then she sat up and they each read their own book. The walk home was hand in hand. She made him a snack.

“Your peanut butter sandwiches taste much better than mine do,” he told her. And it wasn’t just that he could watch her make them.

“Do you use jelly when you make them?”

“No.” They were peanut butter sandwiches, not jelly sandwiches.

“Well, could you eat another whole one?”

“Sure.”

“See? PB on one slice, jelly on the other, then you put them together and cut it down the middle.” They ate. She only had half a sandwich. Sure, she was trim, but she didn’t really seem to eat enough to sustain that minimal weight. “You can make your own snacks when I’m not here, and you can make them and share them with me when we’re married.” He liked that last suggestion. And she seemed to like the idea enough to come into his arms for a long kiss. They’d share a bed when they were married; would they have this sort of fully-clothed standing cuddle, too?

Then they got back to work. He was determined to be better for her study habits than the sorority was. She shouldn’t have any reason to regret making him so happy. The study times were fruitful for him, and apparently for her. The dinner she cooked was delicious. The greatest pleasure, though, was their time in bed.

She writhed in his sight four times with time for kissing, cuddling, and talking in between. He was between her legs kissing her labia in preparation for separating them with his tongue when she tugged his hair hard enough to hurt.

“Andy, in me. Now.” Well, it was nice to be wanted. He kissed up her torso, giving both breasts some greeting but not wasting any time. She took him in her hand and placed him between her labia.

“So warm,” he said as he slowly entered her. And her warmth clasped him smoothly, slickly.

“So hard,” she answered. He went forward until she encased all of him. “So full.” He kissed her hairline.

“I love you.” He moved over her, just brushing her sweet nipples. He moved through her, feeling the slippery slide of her warm walls along his entire length.

“Andy.” She pressed upwards at his downstrokes. Her expression turned worried. He sped up as she threw herself at him and around him more strongly.

“Oh,” she said as her walls clasped around him. He drove in and out through the pulsing grip. Then he drove in harder and lost it. He pumped into her depths. She milked the few last drops from him with her last contractions. He rested on his elbows, but too much on her softness, for some moments.