Chapter 19

Ah to be young and in love. Or maybe enjoying the possibility of love...

The more time Kendall and I spent with each other, the longer our list of discovered mutual interests grew. Much of that came from being avid readers, and we had long enjoyable conversations about books we had both read. I still teased her occasionally about her covert love of romance novels, which after a few blushing episodes she learned to take with good grace.

And the sex was ... spectacular. Her body was magnificent, inside and out. She had the tightest pussy I'd ever felt, and she was even more beautiful when nude. And she was completely at ease when showing me her body, in contrast with her sometimes shaky self-confidence with her clothes on.

She was really into role playing fantasies in bed. She would often take on a persona or situation, and it was my pleasurable job to decipher who she was or where we were. The scenarios usually included her being either forced or seduced into bed, and once we reached that tipping point we had some of the most vigorous and uninhibited sex I'd ever had.

We were lying on a blanket thrown over the sweet smelling grass of a lawn on campus, basking in some unusually fine weather. We were on our stomachs and up on our elbows, making our first pass through our current chemistry homework assignment. I knew Kendall would finish before me, as I'd come to expect.

I kidded her that she was the hare to my tortoise, but when discussing the material she had a comprehension every bit as complete as mine. But I still took satisfaction at her undisguised surprise when I found a nuance that she had missed. I could tell it wasn't something she was used to. When it happened she quickly moved on to the next topic. I couldn't tell if it impressed her or made her uncomfortable.

I glanced over when she closed her big textbook with a loud thump, and waggled her eyebrows at me. I grinned and resumed reading. I managed to stay focused, even when she rolled onto her back and put her hands behind her head, her breasts pointed proudly up at the sky. After several minutes of plowing through the densely packed and ponderously phrased words on the assigned pages, I closed my book as well.

She pointed upwards. "That cloud looks like Zeus getting reading to throw a lightning bolt at us."

I rolled over and followed her gesticulating finger. "Where?"

"Right there ... see the arm drawn back?"

"No."

"Well, what do you see?"

I looked over at a pair of very attractive coeds passing by.

"Boobs."

"What?"

"Boobs. Right there," I said, gesturing with my chin.

She spotted the girls and snorted.

"Men," she said disgustedly, "boobs over Greek mythology."

"I'm only embracing the feminist philosophy as espoused by Erica Jong. Perhaps you should study her teachings."

She quickly rolled to her side to square up with me.

"Really," she said slowly, drawing it out to apply her born and raised Tennessee accent on each syllable. "I seem to remember being the one to tell you about her book in the first place."

That was true; I'd blitzed through the book 'Fear of Flying' in one night.