Chapter 7

"Christ, Amy, you do that again and I'm not ever getting out of this bed."

She giggled and totally ignored me, a fact for which I thanked every god I could think of. I'd wondered last night how this morning was going to play. I'd half expected, dreaded might be a more accurate term, that my little kitten was going to be back to her shy, old self once the light of day put a new spin on the evenings activities. Happily that wasn't the case.

I'd woken up to an empty bed and a stomach that told me it was way past breakfast. A look at the clock confirmed it was almost noon. I hadn't slept this late since... Well okay, since last weekend, but still this wasn't my house and usually I'm not one to linger after the night's festivities.

I had an excuse, - several in fact. Seemed that Amy wasn't one of those girls who needed a lot of sleep, at least that's how it seemed to me after spending the night with her. Every couple of hours she'd woken me up with her wet little mouth and hot little fingers demanding lessons I was only too happy to teach. Hell let's face, all she had to do was ask and I'd become her permanent personal tutor.

But lessons are hard work for both student and teacher and eventually this new and apparently insatiable Amy curled up in a snug ball, her head resting lightly on my chest. I fell asleep stroking her hair and listening to her soft breath deepen. Swear to god, I heard her purr.

I thought I could just stare at her all night, but at some point, my brain called it quits and shut down. One minute I was plotting out strategy on how to get Liam to seriously think about moving to Afghanistan and the next I was squinting in an effort to keep the morning sun from blinding me.

I rolled over and tried to find where Amy was hiding under the quilt. Yeah, stupid, but somehow in my groggy brain I seemed to have shrunk her already diminutive form down to Tinkerbell size. I couldn't find her so I stuck my head underneath the sheet and started to do that windmill thing you do with your arms when you're looking for that one sock you know is stuck in the bed somewhere from the night before when you came home drunk and couldn't be bothered taking off both of the pair before you crawled under the covers and passed out.

"Charlie, what are you doing?" Amy's voice came from the direction of the doorway.

I was halfway under the covers - the wrong way - with my ass waving it's naked self proudly in the cold morning air, so I suppose it was a pretty reasonable question from her point of view. Probably even more so after I said the first thing that popped into my mouth.

"Um, looking for you."

I backed out from under the covers and slid back in feet first all the while looking at Amy halfway across the room, wrapped in a pretty, pink bathrobe holding a tray with two mugs, a thermos of coffee and a plate of something that looked liked a homemade bundt cake. She regarded me seriously.

"You aren't really a morning person are you?"

She had me there.

I grinned at her and shook my head too busy getting my first glimpse of Amy in the morning to care how nuts I looked. Oh god, I'd been kind of hoping I'd been just reacting to the events of the night when I'd made my little discovery. Now I knew for sure. I was totally, hopelessly in love with Amy. And the emphasis, I'm afraid, was on the hopeless part.

"What?" She smiled shyly back at me and my heart lurched painfully in my breast.

"I was just thinking," I finally managed to speak, "there should be a rule that people shouldn't look as good as you do in the morning. It's too much of shock to the system when you're trying to get your heart started."

Amy rolled her eyes, "You really are full of it, aren't you, Charlie?"

"Hey!" I protested. "I'm being totally honest here."

For once, I was actually telling the truth. Amy's pink robe would have made most of the women I'd dated look like a fat Pepto Bismol bottle, but on her it looked unbelievably sweet and feminine. She'd obviously taken a shower and her hair was damp, the curls clinging to the matching pink headband she must have put on to keep her hair off her face. She was barefoot, but even her toes matched the robe with their glossy nail polish.

I wanted to jump her.

Instead, she jumped me. Not right away, first she set the tray down on the floor, but once that was done, she somehow levitated across the three feet that separated us and lightly landed, straddling my pelvis.

"Ommmph!" Okay, maybe not so lightly.

"Oh geez, Charlie, are you okay?"

"I will be," I gasped, "once my balls get out of my chest."

Amy slid off me. "Let me look."

That sounded like an excellent idea. I spread my legs and shoved the covers down to my knees. Amy obediently bent her head and took a gander at the, er, root of my problem.

"Looks okay to me."

Of course it did, there was nothing wrong with me. I'd only been kidding. A more experienced woman would have known that from the beginning. But now that she was down there I thought I may as well at least pretend I had some motive for wanting her to examine my cock other than the obvious.

"I don't know," I tried to sound pitiful, "maybe if you kissed it and made it better."

She actually snorted. This girl was catching on fast. Still, she leaned over a little farther and the next thing I felt was her wet little tongue giving my dick first aid like you couldn't get from the Red Cross. From there things followed the normal course of what happens when your encased in something hot and soft. Next thing I knew Amy was doing her vacuum cleaner impression.

Now we'd covered this ground the night before. In fact we'd reinforced her technique on several occasions. I thought we might even have been justified in saying we'd reached perfection. I was wrong.

"Christ! What are you doing?" This was actually a rhetorical question since I knew what she was up to, I just couldn't believe fastidious Amy was willing to go where no man had gone before. Or ever would for that matter.

Of course Amy doesn't recognize rhetorical very well so there was a wet pop as her luscious mouth left my cock. "Looking for your prostrate."

I groaned, "Sweetie, you found it."

She grinned evilly at me and pressed on my ticket to Disneyland again. Then she had the nerve to giggle when my dick drooled in joy.

She didn't say anything else, just went back to licking my lollipop. Of course with the double assault, I wasn't able to speak at all. Instead I moaned and groaned and did my best dying fish imitation as I flopped all over the bed. Fortunately, quick study Amy no longer thought this kind of action on my part was a sign that she was doing something wrong. Instead she took it as the encouragement it was meant to be and just kept at her heart stopping manipulations until the desired effect was achieved.

We lay there quietly for a bit, Amy's head resting lightly on my hip. I hazily thought about how I was going to thank her for the nooner, but I couldn't seem to get my body to go along with the plan quite yet. By my count this was my fifth orgasm in twelve hours, a new record if my half dead brain wasn't counting those three months when I was twelve and discovered for the first time how much fun sex with one person (the one being me) could actually be.

I distinctly remember my mother being amazed when a giant-sized bottle of Oil of Olay disappeared in less than a week. She went on and on about it at the dinner table one night until I thought I'd die from embarrassment. My dad looked like he was going to explode himself and later I heard him and mom laughing hysterically in the kitchen. Nothing was said to me, but the next day there was a new bottle of Jergen's all for me, (they were sympathetic, but no way were they going to pop for the expensive shit) sitting on my nightstand. Ah, the good old days.

Abruptly, I was brought back from my walk down memory lane by the feel of tiny hands. I forced my head to raise and I looked tiredly down at my crotch. There was Amy poking and prodding like she thought I was hiding the lost Dutchman Mine behind my balls.

"Um, what are you looking for?"

"Nothing," she didn't look up, "just looking."

"See anything you like?"

She laughed, "I never really got a look at one before, you know? And I didn't think you'd mind."

"No, not at all. Carry on, just forget I'm in the room." I struggled up to rest my weight on my shoulders and now we both were looking at my sleeping prince.

Amy looked up and smiled. "It's kind of silly looking isn't it?" She spoke slowly and turned her head sideways like she was studying modern art.

I looked at the dark patch of hair with the little sausage flopped upside down in the middle and the loose sack below. Okay, she had a point, but that didn't mean I was going to let her know I agreed with her.

"Actually, it's fairly normal," I responded a tad defensively. "And about half the world has one."

"Oh sure," she grinned again, "but I've only got this one to look at."

This was true. So being the gracious guy that I am, I laid back down and let her get on with her fun. There wasn't a prayer in hell that she was going to get me going again, but I don't think that was her goal anyway. She seemed perfectly content to look and touch and...

"Sweetheart, peanut, what the hell are you doing?" I sat up as best I could with a ninety-pound girl straddling my knees and crouched over my dick. "You know, you really can't see down that..."

"Charlie, how'd you get the scar?"

I froze. "What scar?"

"This one." Amy pointed to a place on the base of my scrotum as if I had more than one scar to choose from.

"Oh that. It's nothing." I tried to move away from her, but she wasn't having any of it.

"I don't know," she traced the slightly raised welt with her finger. "Looks like it might have been a pretty big deal at the time.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "Uh, it happened a long time ago, I barely remember."

"Uh huh. Go on."

My mind tried to come up with something, anything that would sound better than the truth. Then I looked at those big brown eyes, so warm and trusting.

Shit.

"Recess," I muttered.

"What?"

"You heard me, I got my dick poked by a sharp stick. We were playing Star Wars. It was a hot day and I was wearing shorts. Kindergarten, first day. I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, Charlie," her eyes were sympathetic for a whole two seconds. Then she lowered her head and laughed.

"And I thought you weren't just another heartless woman," I said as I pulled her shaking frame up until I could kiss her nose. "Brother, am I ever disillusioned."

Amy looked at me with those big beautiful brown eyes. Whatever she saw in my face made her smile, just a little, then tucked her head under my chin and sighed contentedly. I did a little sighing myself as I wrapped my arms around her and stroked the soft pink material that covered her back.

I closed my eyes and thought about all the different ways I'd seen Amy look. It surprised me to realize that whether it was the nerd girl I'd originally met or the pretty woman I'd bedded, I was always going to think of her now as beautiful. Damn, my mother had actually been right for once. What was inside a person was the most important thing.

This whole falling in love deal was a new experience for me. I realized that now, this was nothing like my masochist crush on Johanna or the puppy love I'd felt in college. In some ways it wasn't even as exciting as those had been. I didn't have the heart pounding, sweaty palms, oh my God I'm so happy I'm nauseous feeling at all. Instead it was it was more like I suddenly knew the answer to all the secrets of the universe were right there in front of me and just waiting for me to discover them in the depths of Amy's eyes. I knew it might take a while to unlock them, but, hey, I had time.

Like maybe the rest of my life.

Oh shit. Where had that come from? I was having a hard enough time dealing with the fact I'd somehow managed to fall in love, now suddenly I was skipping the next forty-seven steps and thinking about marriage? And the worst part was, even as the thought occurred to me my heart was telling me what a great idea it was. That didn't seem normal. Not for me at any rate.

I'd always thought that I wasn't the marrying kind. Partially this was because no woman had ever seen me that way, but also it had to do with my basic inability to figure out what the hell was so great about marriage. I'd never known why a guy would ever honestly want to spend the rest of his life with just one woman. In my mind, I guess, I always thought the real reason for marriage (besides the obvious biological imperative of procreation and carrying on one's own gene pool) was convenience and the promise of available sex. I knew this made me seem shallow, but as my friends fell like dominoes, I looked around and found an always expanding group of eager women and figured I could live with that.

Now Amy'd snuck into my life and with one smile convinced me I'd been completely wrong about the whole damn thing. All the Rachel's and Kendra's of the world didn't mean squat against the promise of being with her. God, I even could understand how John could move to Gary if he felt half as strongly about 'Nature Girl' Michelle, as I felt about Amy.

I'd been unconsciously tracing the pointy tip of her ear as I was thinking all this. Amy ducked suddenly and pulled her head up to look at me.

"That tickles."

"I'm sorry," I lied.

"No you're not," and swatted my hand away as I tried to reach her ear again.

I sat up and grabbed her shoulders flipping her over and under me. "No," I kissed her, "I'm not." And kissed her again.

That was a position I'd have liked to have stayed in for the next eight or nine hours, but my bladder had other ideas. Reluctantly I finally rolled off her and excused myself and went to the bathroom.

Efficient Amy had set out a new toothbrush, disposable razor and even some kind of shaving cream which was no doubt her father's cause it looked like it was probably popular in the 1960's. But it worked and after the obligatory morning piss, I scraped off the night's growth and brushed my teeth.

I thought about taking a shower, but I didn't want to rush things. I was, after all, in no hurry to leave and I didn't want to remind Amy either that I had my own home and didn't have to camp out at hers.

I knew I could get home too, if not now then in a couple of hours. The bathroom had a window and I could hear the steady drip, drip of melting ice. That's the problem with Chicago ice storms, just when you're getting to enjoy them, ; they go away.

But even if it was getting warmer outside that didn't mean it was time to break out the fans. It was cold and so was I by the time I made it back to Amy's bedroom. I dived under the covers and she screeched as she made a grab for the two mugs.

"Sorry," I shivered, and Amy took pity on me and handed me a coffee she'd poured from the thermos.

"Next time you get up, wait and I'll get you something to wear," she offered.

I raised an eyebrow, reached over and touched her robe. "Pink is not my color."

Amy giggled, "I'll bet you'd look cute," she teased, "but really I was thinking of the sweat pants again.

I groaned.

"No," she protested, "they weren't that bad. In fact without a shirt I'll bet you'd sort of look like Yul Brenner in 'The King and I'." She grinned. "With more hair." Amy took one small hand and touched the patch of hair on my chest. "A lot more hair."

I took her hand in mine and slowly moved it down my treasure trail. "Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera." And it was my turn to grin as her cheeks darkened to the same color as her robe.

"Are you staying for breakfast or do you need to go home right away?"

Huh? The last few minutes had seemed to me to be heading somewhere and it hadn't been in the direction of my house. I looked at Amy and wondered if this was just her being her usual non-pushy self, or if she really was trying to get rid of me.

I pushed myself over to my side and looked at her. "Um, I don't really have any plans..."

Amy smiled happily and I started to breathe again. However she felt about me, it didn't extend to wanting me out of her house in the next ten minutes.

"Okay, why don't you go take a shower and I'll start breakfast. Waffles?"

"I have a better idea," I pulled her up and kissed her on the nose. "Why don't we shower together and then go out for breakfast? I'll buy."

Amy shook her head and got that stubborn look in her eyes I'd just recently begun to notice. "I've already had my shower and..." She dropped her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

I raised her chin up with my finger, "What's wrong?"

"Look, about what's happened," she flushed a little and I started to feel this sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, "I want to thank you, really."

"But?" I forced myself to say.

"No, really, it's just that I don't want you to think you have to keep doing things with me. I know you only did that as a favor and I wouldn't want you to think I expected any more. Especially..." She ducked her head again. "Especially sex."

"You don't hear me complaining, do you?"

Amy smiled and shook her head. "I just want to make sure that you understand that I realize this was a one-shot thing. You obviously don't have feelings for me and I, well I..." She trailed off before she said Liam's name, but it didn't matter, I knew what she was going to say.

We stared at each other for a long time. God I hated this. I wanted so much to tell her that favor's be damned. That I wasn't that nice a guy and I'd wanted to make love with Amy. And now, now that I figured out just how wonderful it could be, I was willing - eager - to continue doing it for the rest of my life. I was just about to tell that when I noticed that her eyes were filling up with tears.

Shit.

"Hey Peanut," I said huskily cause I wasn't too sure I wasn't about to start crying myself, "I understand, I really do." I kissed her again on the nose. "Now didn't you say something about waffles?"

That broke the moment. Amy crawled out of bed and started towards the door. Then I remembered something I'd come up with to move along nefarious plan to keep her away from Liam and thinking of me, because I wasn't ready to give up. Not even now.