Chapter 30

I had a great weekend. Saturday was simply the most wonderful day I'd ever had. At the dance Saturday night, several people commented about how good a couple Shirley and I made, and about how happy I looked. Shirley, they said, was beautiful and radiant. There was a moment, during the early part of the dance, when I thought I was in big trouble. Mrs. Jones came over to our table and asked me to dance with her, As soon as we were out on the dance floor, she shocked me with something she said.

"If you get my little girl in trouble, Kenny, I'll see to it that you no longer have the equipment to do that to anyone else's daughter. I've seen the way you two are together, and I'm not too old to remember what the look that's on her face means. Her father can't see what's right in front of his face, but I do. I don't trust you, but I love Shirley, and I know she's only doing what she wants to be doing. You treat her right, young man, and you make damn sure she doesn't come back home someday with a little one baking in her oven."

"I really like Shirley, Mrs. Jones. I don't plan on hurting her."

"Getting her pregnant would hurt her, Kenny."

"Yes, I agree. I repeat, I don't plan on hurting her."

"I want to scream at you, to tell you that she isn't ready for any of this. The truth is though, she's happier right now than I've ever seen her before. I looked at her tonight, when you first walked in here together, and I almost cried because of how happy she looked. That can all change in an instant though. You're her very first boyfriend, her first love. That's a big responsibility for a boy as young as you are. I can't be there to protect her from what's most likely going to happen. No one can. Make the good times good enough for her so that she can get through the sadness that's bound to follow."

"Is that what happened to you, with your first love?" She looked at me, and then she smiled.

"No, not yet at least. I was so much older that she is though, and mine was a special case. This is different."

"Shirley was worried that she'd end up growing too tall for anyone to ever love her. I'm trying to show her that she's wrong, and that it's more than height that matters. Right now, she doesn't seem as worried about her growing taller than me. She knows from you how hard it might be for her, because of how tall she is. It's been worrying her a lot, and she's read all those books of yours, those romance novels, and she didn't want to miss out on all of that."

"They exaggerate in those books. I hope she hasn't built her expectations too high from reading those books. Real life isn't like that. Romance isn't like that."

"She told me that, that I don't say and do the same kinds of things the heroes in the novels do. I don't rescue her from abductors, or kill twenty men just to be with her. She said she already knew that part wasn't real."

"That's good. By now, I'm sure she's found out that a lot of the rest is exaggerated as well." I knew she meant the sex. There wasn't anything I could say that wouldn't have sounded like bragging to her. I couldn't very well tell her that her daughter hadn't been able to walk down to dinner at seven, because her legs were too weak to carry her, or that my parents and Jane and Grace had ended up in their own bedrooms, because the sounds coming from my bedroom had driven them to their own fevered pitch. Shirley looked radiant and beautiful for a reason. Her skin was glowing, and her eyes were shining, because she was supremely satisfied. Our coupling, after golf and lunch, had been without any aids or props. Shirley had announced that she was already fully primed for making love. She said she had spent a week thinking about me, and wanting a repeat of that Sunday night encounter.

One thing we learned from the first thirty minutes in my bedroom, was that I could delay cumming for a very long time when Shirley was on top, riding me. By the time she had managed her first orgasm, both of us were covered in a thick sheen of sweat, and her hair was absolutely soaked, and starting to curl on its own. After her first orgasm, all the rest of them, except for her last one, followed more quickly, and with considerably less effort from her. I made her cum three times, just by licking her pussy, with my finger sliding in and out of her butt hole. We had meant to quit early enough to shower and go down for dinner. The last time we did it, it was with me taking her from the back, doggy style. It was the only way that Shirley could control the pace without actually being forced to do all the work herself. It also was the way for me to bottom out inside her with considerable force. Shirley just loved it when I pounded against her cervix. She said it hurt, but that it hurt in a way that was very exciting and satisfying to her. I didn't want to damage anything, but I figured if we were doing any real harm, the pain would get too much for her to want to continue.

I had already cum three times, even before we tried it doggy style, and my dick wasn't as stiff as it had been earlier. Shirley didn't mind at all. I couldn't cum again, and we had been at it so long that I was getting a leg cramp in my right calf. Whenever I'd try to straighten and stretch my leg out, hoping to get rid of the cramp, Shirley would starting moving back harder and faster against me, and start yelling some more things, describing in graphic detail everything we were doing, and how, commenting on how it felt, and where she enjoyed my dick the most. I wanted us to stop a good twenty minutes before we did. When she finally achieved the orgasm that she had been seeking for the last thirty minutes, it must have been really exceptional. I know it lasted longer than any others I'd ever witnessed, and I could see and feel the muscles in her back and butt moving in disjointed spasms.

Shirley finally allowed herself to fall forward, sliding off my dick with a slurping sound. The rubber came off me and stayed inside her. I hadn't come close to cumming anyway, so I wasn't that concerned. I flopped over on my side, right next to her. I hadn't ever read any of those romance novels that Shirley and her mother read, but if the sex in them was better than what we'd just had, I didn't want to know about it, or have any contact with people who enjoyed it more. I was already afraid that I was going to hurt myself, if I did what we'd just done that afternoon, every single weekend from then on. I got up at six, and went in and took a shower. Shirley refused to budge when I tried to get her to join me. She claimed she was too weak to move. By six forty five, I was starting to get concerned. What was I supposed to say to my parents when Shirley didn't come downstairs with me for dinner. They were bound to notice, and make comments about it.

I went down by myself at seven, unable to delay any further, and not wanting to keep after Shirley, trying to get her up and into the shower, and dressed for dinner. I left her on my bed, sprawled nakedly, and uncaring about what was expected from her. At dinner, I made excuses for Shirley, telling the table that she wasn't feeling well enough to eat, but was hoping to make a strong enough recovery to attend the dance with us later. Halfway through dinner, Mama got up and excused herself. I didn't think too much about it. Perhaps she wanted to freshen up her make up, or go to the bathroom. When I saw her turn left instead of right at the top of the stairs though, I almost lost my appetite. She was definitely going to see a sight when she went into my bedroom. I felt bad for Shirley, but it was too late. Maybe I should have stayed up there with her, foregoing dinner. Now, at the very least, she was going to be very embarrassed by my mother's seeing her like that.

Dad looked over at me and smiled. "So, what have you been up to this afternoon, Kenny?" Jane and Grace started laughing and howling at my father's deadpan delivery of that line.

"Shirley and I were both so tired from golf, that we took a little nap." This time, all three of them were laughing and making rude comments about what loud sleepers, Shirley and I were, or saying I shouldn't have the television on so loud, and what was I watching? I listened to all of it, not making any return comments. I figured they'd get tired of it soon, but they didn't. I knew they were just teasing, but, after awhile, even if it's all in good fun, it gets old. It was a comment that Dad made that finally made me reply.

"Kenny, I've never heard anyone scream as loud as Shirley does. Or say the things she says."

"That's too bad Dad. Maybe you need some lessons." The laughing stopped, and I was afraid I'd once again gone too far. Dad was a proud and a reserved man, usually. It wasn't like him to tease this way. Maybe he'd been trying to loosen up a little, and my comment would drive him back into his reserved shell again.

"He'll have to ask Shirley when she has an opening." This was from Grace, and it broke the tension enough that all four of us were laughing this time. I looked at my watch, and it was seven forty five. It was time for me to go back to my room and face the music from Mama. I had expected her to be back down the stairs long before this, anxious to give me a piece of her mind, and to comment on my reckless, and ill advised, behavior. I found Mama and Shirley in my bathroom. Mama was helping her fix her hair, and Shirley just stood there allowing Mama to do what she wanted. They were both looking happy, and Shirley looked like she was fully revived, and ready for an evening of dancing.

"You look absolutely stunning dear. You are going to be the belle of the ball. Stay here for a minute. I've got something that will go well with your gown." Mama hurried out of the bathroom, and I walked in to take her place. I kissed Shirley, taking care not to smudge whatever make up she might have on. I noticed her skin seemed more clear and luminous than it had. I assumed it was a result of some make up. I stepped back, but Shirley wouldn't allow it, moving forward and encircling me with her arms.