Marcus’ House

“Marcus is a decent guy. I don’t expect complications. Can you guys just wait here?” Candace told her companions as she exited the station wagon.

She knew he was home. The lights were on, and she could hear an acoustic guitar from inside, practicing the same riff over and over. She rang the doorbell.

Marcus answered the door and Candace was struck by a flood of memories. He was older than he’d been when they dated, of course: he looked more like a man now. He still had the same curly brown hair, and the same pair of glasses. The torso under his torn Van Halen T-shirt had matured nicely. So had the legs below his swim trunks.

“Candace...,” he said with surprise.

“Hey Marcus. I understand you have a picture of me,” she declared.

Marcus tilted his head indicating she should come inside, and then he led her to his bedroom. It looked mostly how she remembered it, but now there were two framed posters: both illustrations of the girl from the Duran Duran Rio album cover, but with different clothing and poses.

From the closet he withdrew his freshman yearbook, and from inside he pulled Candace’s nude photo. He handed it to her.

“Why did you even accept this?” Candace asked. Her tone was mostly curious, but with a hint of hurt.

“I shouldn’t have,” he admitted. “I should have torn it up, or punched that asshole, or something. I was weak. It reminded me of what I lost - or I guess what I almost had.”

Candace shook her head disapprovingly. “That was never yours...”

“I know. I betrayed you. I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s just,” he began again when she didn’t say anything, “I really loved you. I thought that you loved me. We were going to be each other’s firsts. And then out of nowhere you completely shut me out of your life. To this day, I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Marcus...,” Candace explained, “I did love you. I did want to give you my virginity. But things happened in my life that had nothing to do with you. Things that made it impossible for me to have that kind of relationship.” She begged him with her eyes not ask any more questions.

“I’m sorry,” he said in earnest.

She meandered while they both tried to think of a way to fill the silence. “UCLA, huh?” She said, spying the enrollment papers on his desk.

“Yeah. You?”

“UVA.” After a pause, she asked, “So who did you end up doing it with?”

“Meg Gunderson,” he told her.

“Oh god!” She laughed.

“I know,” he said, joining in her laughter.

He looked at her with fresh eyes. Their relationship had been frozen in a glacier for years, and now in the span of a couple minutes it had come back to life. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“About that picture...,” he began. Candace winced, fearful of what he might say. “What’s it like?” When she didn’t immediately answer, he elaborated. “Do you like it? It’s just - I’m really curious, but I can’t imagine I’ll ever date a girl who’d do something like that. I certainly can’t trust what other guys have to say about something so exotic.”

She didn’t answer. Instead she walked to his nightstand and opened the drawer. She examined the box of condoms she found inside. Then she stepped briskly to Marcus and stripped his shirt off, followed by his swimsuit. She led him to the bed and handed him the box of condoms. He opened a fresh square and unrolled the rubber onto his rapidly stiffening cock while she kicked off her shoes, and then discarded her shirt, sweater, and skirt. There was nothing else to take off - her bra and panties had been surrendered earlier in the evening.