Chapter 5

Their reconciliation marked the beginning of a perfect summer. There were very few days they weren't together, though some of them were taken up with study. Mike took Abigail to Norton Aerodrome at Lightwood. A former barrage-balloon site, it had been taken over by the Council as a driver-training centre, where, for a small fee a potential learner driver could be taken to acquire the rudiments of vehicle handling. It was also used for CBT, the training now required of would-be motor-cyclists before they're even allowed on the road.

They spent several hours there, including a picnic lunch; it might be overgrown and neglected, but it's on the edge of the city and quite pleasant. By the end of the day, Abigail was competently starting, moving off, controlling and stopping the old AJS; she'd even managed to ride several circuits of the centre, getting up to third gear once or twice. She was very proud of herself.

In return, Mike agreed, rather reluctantly, to accompany Abigail to the dojo, where he began to learn the basic principles of Judo. Rather to his surprise, he liked it and happily went out to buy a 'judogi' (or 'gi' for short) with the intention of taking it seriously. The instructor didn't actually comment, but certainly noticed that Abigail was, indeed, calmer and more focussed; he thought Mike had potential, but thought he would never become expert.

They made several visits to one of the swimming baths to get some serious exercise in between visits to the dojo. Mike got his first inkling of Abigail's body as revealed by her swim-costume. Abigail noted, (smiling gently when he wasn't looking) his involuntary reaction to seeing her. Which was one element of the summer she wanted to work out. She was quite determined as to what she wanted, just not sure how best to go about it. Then, a couple of weeks in, her mother solved the conundrum.

"Abby, love, your father and I have been offered the use of a cottage in Scotland for a couple of weeks from late July. We ... sort of expected you'd prefer to stay in Sheffield and we're relying on you to look after the house."

She looked at her mother, a questioning expression on her face.

Her mother frowned slightly. "I noticed the pill packets ... I was hardly surprised ... Mike seems a good lad and as long as you're sure of what you're doing ... we don't object to your having him stay overnight while we're away."

Abigail blushed, but continued to meet her mother's eyes steadily.

"This isn't an open invitation for you to sleep with him when we're back here, and you'll need to negotiate with his mother if he's not going to be at their house. But you're both adults and you both have to make your own decisions. Are we clear on this?"

She couldn't respond immediately ... she was having difficulty assimilating that she was having this conversation at all with her mother.

"Er, yes Mum ... does Dad know?"

"He does, but he'll pretend he doesn't. You're still his little princess, you know, and it's going to be hard for him to let you go. I was surprised at how lightly he let Mike down when we first met him."

Well, that was part one of the puzzle fitted. She took the next opportunity offered to have a private word with Mike's mother, who was very accepting and readily agreed to help with some arrangements, which was another part of the picture. The final element was persuading Mike to arrange a romantic evening with a meal involved for the first day her parents were to be away. That was fairly straightforward. All that was left to do was to fill in the time and that was no problem at all. Between swimming, Judo, motorcycle training and maintenance (Mike having pointed out that if Abigail was serious about riding a classic bike rather than a modern one she needed to know how to deal with several regularly occurring problems) study, days out and local walks ... and of course exploring each other, they had plenty to keep them occupied.

The Fergusons left for Scotland Saturday morning. Abigail and Mike spent the day at a local country fair; the AJS was an entry in the classic motor-cycle section of the classic car rally. Since it was in regular use, rather than being a 'concours' entry Mike didn't expect anything except a free pass for the day ... and he wasn't surprised. He did have quite a lot of favourable comment, however. The judges actually commented that they were happier seeing a machine being used as it was supposed to be used, rather than cosseted in a heated garage and transported to the meeting on a trailer, but that sadly it meant the machine lost points on appearance and preservation.

Mike had arranged for a discreet table for two at Nonna's on Ecclesall Road. It meant they could walk to the restaurant, which was only half a mile from Abigail's home. He explained to her and she happily agreed ... he was fully prepared to order a taxi both ways if she hadn't. Abigail had argued with her mother about footwear. She pointed out that she was determined to be comfortable, and she wanted to be able to walk, so there was no way she was going to wear significant heels. As it was, the two-inch heels she ended up with required practice anyway. What was she wearing? A 'little black dress', of course ... and she looked wonderful.

Having discussed the menu with the chef, Mike trusted him to deliver an extra-ordinary gustatory experience ... and they were not disappointed; they were treated to a succession of beautifully prepared and presented courses accompanied by a superior wine. They were very satisfied and a little tipsy when they made their way back to Riverdale Road.

In the hallway, Abigail pointed to a holdall Mike recognised.

"Take that up to my room, sweetheart, please?"

Mike looked at her. She held his face in both hands and kissed him. "your mother," she said, "is not expecting you back tonight. She knows where you are, and put up the bag with what you need for a day or two ... okay?"

"Are you quite sure, Abby?"

"Ohhh, yes ... quite, quite sure. Don't keep me waiting too long..."

In her room, she turned for him to unzip her, and shrugged the dress off to pool at her feet. Still in lacy bra and panties ('itchy and not very comfortable – silk or satin next time – she was later to comment) she began to undress Mike. As she was doing so, he couldn't resist caressing her smooth shoulders and reaching round to unclasp her bra; she smiled brilliantly, brightening even more as he cupped her breasts; she reached to push down his boxers then her own panties; they were naked together for the first time. He brushed his hands over her as they stood in the middle of the room, so lightly he barely stirred the fine hairs, then she was pulling him to her and kissing him, pressing her breasts, with their hard little nipples against him. His hands stroked her back, feeling, revelling in the feeling, of the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, her bottom; Abby, stepping back, little steps, drawing him with her until she sat then lay back on the bed, pulling him down onto her.

Mike, though, had other ideas, and slid down, kissing her breasts and gently nibbling the nipples standing up hard and proud. Further down, his hands tracing the outline of her body as he moved – he poked his tongue into her navel and she giggled.

Arriving at the junction of her legs, he could smell her arousal and couldn't wait any longer to taste her; her individual, unique, wonderful flavour; sweet and tart and musky, her juices flowing on his tongue; exploring her labia, finding her clit and strumming it with his tongue; Abigail exploded into orgasm.

It wasn't her first; they'd brought each other to orgasm with their fingers often enough in the previous weeks, but it hit her with an intensity beyond any previous experience. He didn't stop, though, and she crested again ... and again ... before she dragged his face away from her.

"No more for a minute ... please," she whimpered. "Just kiss me." She wriggled back and twisted until she was laying fully on the bed, and he lay beside her, kissing her gently; allowing her to taste her own juices on his face and lips; idly caressing and playing with a breast, her side, her bottom, her thighs.

"You ... are... so ... beautiful..." he whispered.

"It's time," she said, rolling onto her back.

Moving between her legs, he rubbed his penis up and down her labia; she took hold and positioned him at her entrance. He pressed down, slowly, but firmly, feeling a slight resistance which suddenly gave way and he was sliding into her. She gasped and winced as her hymen broke, and he paused. She took a deep breath.

"Okay ... now..."

He was so excited and she was so tight that he could only manage a few strokes before coming, but the sensation of his ejaculation triggered another orgasm for her so they groaned together as they came.

"Mike..."

"Abby, my love..."

"Hold me..."

"Always..."

They drowsed together, close, gently stroking each other, touching and holding, deeply content; kissing, tasting mingled flavours, personal, garlic and wine, wholly satisfying; eventually drifting off into sleep.

Neither could have said who woke first; it was more of a gradual awareness in the dawn light as their hands began to move ... had they even stopped as they slept? His hand captured a breast and fondled it; hers his penis hard with his morning erection.

"This is weird..." she whispered. "I never shared a bed with anyone before ... not since I was a baby, anyway ... but, doesn't it seem right somehow? Sort of ... complete?

He smiled and, releasing her breast, stroked her hair away from her face. "Yes." He cupped the discoloured side of her face and kissed her. "I don't want to ever let you go."