Chapter 1

The first two years were fantastic! My knight in shining armor had come to rescue me; no more weeks of slogging through the swamps of despair, no more of the cyclic ennui I had felt since I started high school.

Ron and I fell in love during the summer of 1959. He was twenty-one, I was nearly twenty-one, and we were both deeply religious, puritanical, really. We were also both still virgins, brought up to believe that sex was for marriage, and not before. Our passions that summer would have none of that nonsense, and the passions prevailed. Once that barrier was broken there was no stopping us.

We both knew I would have to join Ron at his college that fall. I could talk my father into anything when I was on top of the world, and I told him I just had to go to Ron's school. My father, who could be very persuasive, went straight to the university president. I got enrolled there.

Ron and I were both staying in college dorms -- and there were no co-ed dorms or co-ed visits in those days. We snuck off whenever possible for a little privacy, and we were not too choosy about that. A dark corner behind the gym, a bush in a nearby park, the back seat in a borrowed car. Nighttime or daytime, it mattered not. We both lived for the sex; we needed our fix, at least once a day; two or three times if we could manage it.

By the end of November we could no longer bear living apart, and for us that meant we had to get married. We each broke the news to our parents at Christmas. I think mine breathed a sigh of relief to have their moody daughter off their hands. Ron's parents were shocked, but decided he was old enough to make up his own mind. His mind was indeed firmly made up, and we were married at the semester break.

It was unbelievable! A room with a bed of our own! It wasn't much of a place really. We were in an old house that had been broken up into apartments, of a sort. We had a bedroom with a kitchenette that had originally been a large walk-in closet. The rather cramped bedroom contained, in addition to the double bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, a small table and two chairs. That left hardly any room to walk around. The bathroom was down the hall, shared with another apartment.

We couldn't have cared less. I think we must have made love about four times a day all spring. I was madly in love, and ecstatically happy. The next year, Ron's senior year, we may have eased up a bit, more like two or three times a day, but it was still fantastic. I was still deliriously happy. Ron gave me all the love and all the sex I could dream of.

Well ... except for one time. Wait, that sounds like he held something back once. He didn't, not ever. But I did hold something back from him. I had one secret day, a day I never told him about.

Ron and I were always short of money, and always looking for ways to bring in a little extra. Ron worked twenty hours a week at the college library, and saw a notice there one day, a year after we were married. A blind student needed someone to read to him, for a calculus class. I couldn't do that — I had no idea what all those squiggly lines meant or how to say them out loud — but Ron sure could, because he was majoring in math. So Ron started reading for Tom, and tutoring him, too.

Tom wasn't totally blind; he could tell light from dark. He hadn't been blind at all when he first went to college; in fact, he was a football player and joined a fraternity. But he had a terrible accident that involved some acid or something. It seared his eyes and scarred his face. Fortunately, he couldn't tell where you were looking when you talked to him, or it would have been awkward, because it was hard to look at his face. Personally, I liked to look at his broad shoulders, strong arms, and powerful chest.

OK, I'll admit it. When he and Ron were poring over Tom's calculus book I sometimes looked at the rest of his body, too, especially his thighs and ... other things. I had quite a few chances to do that, because Tom often came to our place to work with Ron. He had an incredible ability to get around despite his handicap. We were several blocks from campus, but Tom insisted he didn't mind, and needed the exercise. By the second day he was in our little room he could thread his way over to our kitchenette without using his cane or bumping into anything. The guy was amazing.

One Saturday Ron had left for a four-hour shift at the library, and I was doing some studying at home. After a while I started getting horny, and I slipped my hand up inside my skirt to rub my panties. Pretty soon I realized that I had read the same sentence several times, and I had no idea what it was saying. What I needed was to lie on the bed, pull up my skirt, push my panties down, and ... OH YEAH!

About then I heard a knock on the door, and you have already guessed who it was. I knew too, because Tom always used a special knock. I jerked my panties up, rolled off the bed, and went to let him in.

"Tom, we weren't expecting you, but come in."

"Oh, hi, Jan, you mean Ron forgot?" He tried to look around the room. "Shame on you Ron, wherever you are."

I realized that Tom and Ron must have mixed signals on their scheduled meeting time together. I knew I should tell him where Ron was, and send him back to campus, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do that. I hated to think he had made the trip all the way for nothing. At least that's what I tried to tell myself.

"Sorry, Tom, Ron isn't here right now, but please come on in, anyway. Maybe I can try to help you."

"What you mean, is," Tom grinned, "that you've heard Ron say 'e high x' and 'y sub a-1' so many times that you figure you've learned it by osmosis, right?"

"Well," I laughed, "those phrases do sound pretty familiar, but that doesn't mean I'd know when to say them if I was looking at your book."

"Actually," I added somewhat hesitantly, "that wasn't the sort of help I was thinking of. Your whole life can't be just math equations."

"Thanks, but I think I've got my other classes pretty well covered."

"Oh, but surely your whole life isn't just classes."

I don't know what prompted me to be so bold. I guess the fact that I was still feeling horny, and maybe that I have a little tendency to get giddy and start teasing when I'm feeling really high. I'd been on a high for a year and a half, longer than ever before in my life.

Tom sighed. "No, basically, my whole life is just classes. Being ... like I am means it takes more time to learn stuff, and I don't have any time left over for other things."

"But you need to make time," I gushed. "Everybody needs time for other things. You need time to just relax, and have fun. You need time to spend with girls; you need ... emotional outlets. Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"No," he said almost bitterly, "who would want to have a boyfriend that looks like me? Who would want to have a boyfriend that couldn't ever compliment her on how she looks?"

"Looks are nice, but that isn't the only thing that matters. You could compliment her on how she feels when you touch her. Wouldn't it be even nicer to touch her than to look at her?"

"Yeah, but you forgot the first part. You don't get to touch a girl until after she really likes you a lot."

"I really like you a lot," I said, knowing I was getting into dangerous territory, but not caring. "And I'll bet lots of girls would like you when they got to know you. They'd like to look at you, too. You're really quite a hunk, you know."

"Oh, yeah? Look me in the face, look me in the eyes, and see if you can say that. I know I look disgusting, and there's no point in lying about it."

"Tom, put your hands on my cheeks. Here, like this, so you can see where my face is looking. Oh, yeah! That feels so nice."

"Listen, Tom," I went on, "girls like to be touched. I like to be touched. I like having you touch me. But right now, I was trying to make a point. You know where I'm looking, right? You know because you can feel me looking straight at your face. So now I'm going to confess something. Are you ready for this?"

I paused for effect, then went on, "I think you are one of the most exciting men I have ever met. Not only are you smart, and upbeat, with a great personality, but you also have broad shoulders, strong arms and a chest that any woman would love to press against. You, Tom, are just plain sexy."

"Don't do this to me," he moaned, "you're driving me crazy."

"That makes two of us, Tom. You drive me crazy sometimes. Like right now, for example."

"Oh, God, Jan, if you weren't married..."

I had cheated a little bit when I had Tom hold my cheeks. Yes, my face was right in front of his, but I wasn't looking at him, because I had my eyes closed. I was seeing him — all of him — in my mind's eye. And it really was driving me crazy.

"Shhh, Tom, don't say anything. Just enjoy the moment. Just enjoy this." I leaned forward and felt my lips touch his. I just brushed them gently and pulled away again.

"Oh, GOD!" he moaned, "It's been so long! You have to stop! You can't do that! I can't stand it!"

"It's what you need, Tom, and now," I gulped and knew what I was about to say and do was wrong, but I didn't care, "now, I've realized something else. I care so very much about you, Tom, like a friend cares. And ... as a friend ... I want to give you what you need. I don't care what the world thinks, I don't care what's right or wrong. I just know that this is right for us right now."

I leaned forward again and pressed my lips against his. The sensation was electric, and I moaned as our lips molded themselves into each other.