Chapter 3: Lover

He kissed her again, his tongue meeting hers while she hugged him. She pulled his clothed chest against her breasts until they hurt. When she let go, he moved away. Then he was kissing her face and neck. He kissed down to her breasts, kissed all over her left one before getting to the nipple. He held her right breast while he licked there, then teased the right nipple with his hand while sucking the left one. He kissed a trail down her left breast, across the bone, and up her right one. Finally, he licked and sucked that nipple.

He kissed a trail down from her breasts and across her stomach. Then he pulled away. She felt abandoned until he started untying her shoe. He removed both of them -- she’d worn such clunky shoes for the winter weather. He pulled her socks off and kissed her big toes through her pantyhose. He knelt on the bed over her as he kissed her stomach again, working up her body to her breasts. There, again, he kissed all over each breast before getting to the nipple. Then he kissed back down to her navel. That was ticklish.

“Let me,” he said. His hands were at her waistband. She arched so that her rump was off the bed. He tugged the jeans down, the panties going with them. Jen had selected her bra for him to see; the panties were old, and the elastic was shot. She hoped he wasn’t looking at them. Now, she was wearing only pantyhose and a watch.

He kissed her stomach before saying, “Again.” She arched, and he pulled her pantyhose down. He stopped to kiss her mound -- the bony part, not anything sensitive -- before taking them all the way off.

“Sweet Jen,” he said. “Beautiful Jen. Delectable Jen.” Now, he kissed her thighs. She raised her knees and spread her legs to welcome him, but he lay beside her instead. While he kissed her breast, his hand caressed her thighs and toyed with the hair on her mound. He parted her lips. “Darling!” he said. He sucked her left nipple as his finger traced up her cleft.

When the finger touched her clitoris, she gasped. He sucked hard. He stroked her and sucked alternate nipples until she shook with a climax.

Not relenting even then, he kissed her gasping mouth and then headed between her thighs. His finger made way for his tongue. He licked those lips, occasionally just touching her clitoris with his tongue. She felt herself spiraling upward again. He didn’t let up, licking her lips, licking her so-sensitive clitoris, playing with her nipples with one hand. He inserted a finger and massaged her tunnel while his tongue was busy just outside. He even sucked the clitoral area while she was already having a spasm. She arched again and again. Finally, she reached down and pushed his head away.

He withdrew his finger and lay beside her. It was time for him, way past time, but she needed to catch her breath first.

The next thing she knew, she was covered with the bedspread and several blankets. He was shaking her shoulder. “Time to wake up. I have to get you back.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly one. You’ve been asleep for hours.”

She had?

“I’ve put your clothes at the foot of the bed,” he said. “Are you going to go back to sleep?”

No. For one thing, she had to use the bathroom. “I’m awake.”

He left her. When she had donned the minimum, she dashed out. He directed her to the bathroom without her asking. After that, she got everything on. He’d put her outerwear on a chair. She was tempted to sneak a look at his drawers, the drawers in the nightstands, at least. He might come in, though. She did look around. There was a stationary bike to one side. It almost looked like two rooms, one for sleep, a much smaller one for the exercise.

He was already wearing a sweater when she came out, and he got his coat on immediately. They went downstairs with him carrying the pizza box. When they got to the front door, he said, “Wait in here.” She watched him get in the car he’d left down the block. He took some time getting it started, then he drove away. Before she could figure out that this was the most efficient way to get back to the apartment house, he was back. When he stopped, she went out. On the short walk to the car, the wind cut her to the bone. “I’d have offered you a shower,” he said, “but I was afraid you’d catch your cold back in this weather.” The heater was on, and, by the time they passed the county line, the car was warm.

“I’m sorry,” he said. She wasn’t. She was just sorry this hadn’t happened months ago. He couldn’t date a student? What about the year and a half she’d been a seminary student but not his student. “I got carried away.” He wasn’t the only one. And not only figuratively. He’d carried her off to his bed. How Neanderthal! How sexy!

He didn’t say anything else. She almost dropped off again. He started humming. “Sing it,” she said.

“Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine,” he sang softly. “Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine,” was much louder. Then his voice softened again. Was he being suggestive? Professor Blake being blasphemous? She decided it was all her imagination.

After he finished the tune, she asked, “Would you like to sing another?” She fell asleep to his marvelous voice.

“Jenny,” he said. “We’re there.” He shook her. He walked her to the door and went into the kitchen while she was starting to unwrap herself.

He was still in his coat, though, for the good-night kiss. He was more tender than passionate. “Love you,” he said. “I’ll call.” She managed to bolt the door after him and get into her nightgown before dropping into bed. She had so much to think about, but sleep took her immediately.

The next morning, she found the pizza box perched precariously on top of some of the other items in her refrigerator. There were two pieces still in it. However much a Chicagoan she was, cold pizza wasn’t her idea of breakfast. She did nuke one for lunch, however. Her phone rang about two-thirty.

“Independence United Methodist Church.”

“David. Can you talk?”

“It rings in the parsonage, too. I’m all alone.”

“No calls from the D. S. asking what you were doing being driven home after 2:30?”

“No. I think they were all asleep.”

“Lucky them. This seminar isn’t going to get much from me today.”

“I’m sorry!”

“I’m not. Look, I already know that the rest of this week is shot. Could I prevail on you for another date next Monday?” Could he prevail? The question was whether she could wait that long.

“I’d be honored.”

“Same time? Maybe another nationality’s cuisine?”

“What nationality is pizza anyway?”

“American. Chicago isn’t a nationality.”

“Tell Da Mare! Anyway, I’d be honored.” She’d said that already. But he didn’t seem to be complaining.

She was tempted to call him during the week, but she resisted. She paid for personal long distance, but the church treasurer saw all the bills, and they included the numbers she called and the minutes the call lasted. Maybe she was paranoid; maybe somebody had seen her arrive in David’s car in the middle of the night and told all their friends. They wouldn’t call the district superintendent to complain, whatever David thought. They wouldn’t even complain officially to the pastor-parish committee. Martha Englehard would hear the gossip and tell Joe. Since he hadn’t been officially informed, there would be nothing for him to do.

On the other hand, she had to deliver moral imperatives to these people. If they suspected that she wasn’t following the morality that they thought important, they’d ignore her even more thoroughly than they did now. At the committee meetings, anyway, she saw no sign of disillusionment.

Sunday morning, she heard him during the first hymn. That voice had sung for her on their way back, a private concert. She started to think back on that evening but pulled herself up short. She had a service to lead; she couldn’t even think of her sermon until its time came.

The handshake and the comments seemed incredibly innocent to her. Others took longer in the line than he had.

Monday, he called her again. “On for four?”

“Oh yes. Dress casual?”

“Casual is fine.”

Well, casual might be fine, but she wasn’t going to wear tight jeans again. She was ready at ten ‘til four. He rang the bell at five ‘til. “Was I too demanding on the ride back?” she asked. “I loved your singing, but I was too out of it to think that you might strain your voice. And then I fell asleep on you.”

“I kept singing. It kept me awake. How did your day go?”

“Last week? I was rather slow in the morning, but I felt wonderful. I did some hospital visits in the afternoon and perked right up by the evening meeting.”

“And today?”

“Great” she said. “I had this to look forward to.”

He stopped for Philippine take-out in the city. He seemed to know where everything was. They had to park two blocks from his apartment, but the walk wasn’t chilling. Again, she collected the keys and gave them to him when he returned from the kitchen. He helped her off with her coat and scarves, then stood back to admire her peasant dress. “If that’s casual, I’m one of the casualties.”

“It’s old.” And she couldn’t wear it around the church; it almost called for pigtails, not that she would wear them -- not that she could wear them with this haircut. Still, she didn’t look professional in the dress; she looked like a young girl. On the other hand, she had no problem with David’s thinking of her as a girl.

He tipped her head up and kissed her sweetly. The percolator burbled before they could get serious. In the kitchen, he poured her a cup, and served her a small portion of each of five dishes.

“Taste each,” he said. “Take as much as you want for seconds.”

“Chicken adobo,” he identified one dish.

“I’m glad you waited until after I’d tasted it. It tastes delicious, but ‘adobe’ doesn’t sound appetizing.”

“Adobo is different. I think the names are a coincidence. Now that,” of another dish she was sampling, “is pon-sit. The Greek gods ate ambrosia ‘cause nobody on Mount Olympus could make pon-sit.”

It was delicious. The whole meal was delicious. “Want dessert?” he asked at the end.

Well, yes. But she didn’t want ice cream. She wanted some more of his delicious kisses. “No. Want me to take the coffee while you clean up?”

“That would be kind of you.”

He had two nightstands, one on either side of a twin bed. She put a cup on each and went back for the pot. It went on the nightstand with his cup. She was still wearing the clunky shoes. She wore them to the church and changed there on Sundays. She slipped them off now. She sat against the headboard.

“Jen,” he called from the living room. A minute later, he looked in the doorway. There weren’t a hell of a lot of places to look in the apartment. He quirked an eyebrow but made no verbal comment. He sat against the headboard on the right side. There wasn’t much room, but she didn’t want more. “My cup?” he asked, nodding towards it.

“Yeah.”

He kissed her deeply, then held her breast through the dress. He didn’t mention that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Maybe he had noticed earlier, though it would be hard to see in this dress. His other hand reached behind her and slipped inside the neckline. His fingers couldn’t quite reach her left nipple, they stroked the top of her breast.

When she broke the kiss to breathe, he kissed her forehead and nose. That tickled. He moved back, pulling at the shoulders of her dress. “Don’t want to get this wrinkled,” he said. Wrinkled? She’d told him it was old. On the other hand, since the option seemed to be removing it, let’s protect it from wrinkles by all means.

She’d selected this pair of panties for his view. They covered only the essentials and were lacy there. He seemed to be looking at her bare breasts, instead. She hoped he wasn’t disappointed at their size. But he’d seen them already, and he hadn’t seemed to think they were too small. This time, too, he looked at them appreciatively. Then he kissed them appreciatively.

He covered with kisses the entire surface of each breast except the areolas. When he finally licked across her nipple, it sent a thrill through her. She was quite excited before he returned to her mouth for another deep kiss. His hand went to her thighs during that kiss. He tickled her there, caressed the insides of each thigh. She spread her legs, but he didn’t seem to get the hint.

Then he trailed his hands up between her legs, stroking the thighs as he went. This time, he didn’t stop. His hand covered her mound. He licked and sucked her nipples as he lightly caressed her lower lips. She arched to press more firmly against his hand. She loved the feelings; then she wanted more; then even those stopped.

He lifted his head and his hand moved to her waist. “These are lovely,” he said, “but aren’t they in the way just now?” She lifted her rump again so he could remove the panties, and then again to help him ease off her pantyhose. He stripped off his shirt and undershirt, although not -- oddly enough -- his pants before returning to lie beside her.

His skin was warm against hers as he kissed her. Then he moved aside before renewing the kiss. He stroked her thighs again while his tongue invaded her mouth. This time, there was nothing barring his access to her genitals. His fingers were a little chilly as they parted her lips, but the sensations they brought heated her. He stroked her as his lips traveled down her throat and chest. He sucked on her left nipple just as he stroked her clitoris for the first time. Fire burned through her; she may have gasped.

“Lovely Jen,” he said. “Delightful Jen.” Then his mouth went back to doing better things. When he abandoned her breasts, it was to trail kisses lower and lower. When he got to her waist, he got up to move between her legs. He kissed both thighs on his way to their juncture. The first touch of his lips on her lower ones was delightful. And then it got better and better.

Heat spread out all over her body from her center, from his tongue. The heat became a fire which burned through her. It consumed her.

And, when it left, nothing remained. Slowly, her self came back together, David was holding her, cuddling her, murmuring to her. “Jen, sweet Jen,” he said. “Jen, lovely Jennifer, say yes.” Say yes to what? He was holding something in front of her face. It was a packaged condom.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, David, oh yes!” Which, one part of her brain noted, was much more romantic than ‘It’s about time.’

He rolled away from her. She felt the bed shake as he pulled off his trousers and rolled on the condom. Kneeling between her legs, he kissed her. Then he kissed each of her breasts while his fingers spread her labia. She felt him right at the opening. He kissed her again. “Oh Jen,” he said. Then he pushed in.

He spread her, filled her, stretched her. She felt his pelvis press hers. He shifted so his hands could reach her breasts. “Sweet Jen,” he said before he started moving.

He withdrew slowly and almost all the way on each stroke, then pressed inward until she was filled. Then he would rub against her from side to side before withdrawing again. She crossed her ankles behind his rump and lay back to enjoy all the sensations. Soon, though, she dropped her feet to the bed to thrust back. She was enjoying every moment of this, and she would enjoy the moment of his orgasm the most. She was looking forward to that, the tribute to her desirability. She’d had hers, and -- as much as she was enjoying the prelude -- knew she wouldn’t have another tonight.