Chapter 6

While I was flipping the covers back, she slipped out of the scrubs trousers. Panties. Nice, simple pastel blue. Hip-huggers. I was jealous of those panties because they were hugging those hips.

She reached down and grabbed the edge of the covers I'd carefully left covering my lower half and gave them a flip. Snorted. "I like blue, too." MY underwear was dark blue. Cotton, of course, but the color was a simple choice. A sale somewhere. She bounced over me and slid her legs under the covers and turned to face me.

"Now, about all those kisses, sir ... what effect do you imagine that has on me?"

"Insanity of a more or less temporary nature," I said.

"You don't get off that easily." Then she giggled. "Possibly a poor choice of words." And she kissed me. And I kissed her back. That thin cotton material of our ersatz pajamas offered considerably more tactile response than previous kisses.

I felt soft, pliant breasts pressing against me, topped by nipples in a definite state of arousal. When the kiss broke, I made one more stab at being honorable.

"Jenn, we don't have to..."

She sort of gasped and sat up. "Chuck, you are one hard-headed individual. When words come out of your mouth, do you mean them? You know, like 'I love you'?"

"Yes, but Jenn..."

"But nothing. I can see from your bookcase that you read a lot."

"Or I buy a lot of used books at yard sales."

"Smartass! You read a lot."

"Point being?"

"Romantic love versus arranged marriages. Couples. Commitments. All that stuff of sociological import."

"My, we are a literate little thing when we're pissed..."

"If you want an ignorant bimbo, you stopped at the wrong disaster, buddy. Now listen to me."

"Okay. I'm all ears."

"No you're not. That wasn't an ear I just felt when we hugged." Giggle. "Sanity check?"

"That's what I'm angling toward," I said. "Jenn, you're darned sure attractive to me. And you're intelligent. But are you crazy?"

"If I was crazy then the ex would be lying in a freezer in fourteen separate plastic bags." She heaved a sigh. "I'm not crazy. I am disturbingly lucid today. And inventory? YOU, sir, are attractive to me as well. Not one of those stud-muffin calendar guys, no. Just a good, decent, easy on the eyes, pleasant guy. And you speak in a way that tells me that's the way you always speak, vocabulary, cadence, measured thought. And you seem to care about people. Think of me as your mail-order bride."

"Wha..."

"Mail order bride. Used to not be that uncommon. Girl shows up. Guy marries 'er. Simple. And they live together forever after. Determination that love is there and it's up to the two of them to make it grow and flourish. Verstehen Sie?"

"Ich verstehe," I replied.

"Hah! Extra points for German," she laughed. "But I still win."

"Careful. You might not know all the facts about the prize," I said.

"No alcohol in the house but a couple of beers and half a bottle of wine. Doesn't smell of cigarette smoke. Place is clean. No condom wrappers in the trash can. No other women's clothing. Not the slightest bit of evidence at all. And you just don't strike me as the type who'd be doing hookers."

"You could be wrong..."

"AM I?"

"No, but you could be..."

"Criminal record? You?" she asked.

"No. You?"

"I rolled through a stop sign four years ago."

She kept after me. "So were you waiting, hoping that the right one would come along and you'd do the dating and the engagement and the wedding and all that?"

"I don't know exactly what the hell I was waiting for."

"Your wait is over. Since YOU didn't define it, I shall. You were waiting for a slightly used but serviceable lady a few years younger than you who is tired of games and wants a guy who will be hers and hers alone. That would be me."

"And you?"

"Apparently I had to get fed up with a boy in a man's body who never progressed past the mental age of thirteen and I had to see that for myself. And then God had to kill my car to make sure that I found you."

"You are crazy," I said.

She flopped halfway atop me and her lips met mine, laughing. After the kiss, at close range, she spoke. "Is crazy a deal-breaker?"

"I think I could like 'crazy'," I replied, tugging her against me for a languorous hug. She slid a bit further atop me. I loved it. "Tell me this won't end."

"Why should it? Chuck, be honest. Is there anything I'm going to find out about you that makes you such a poor risk? Are you subject to binge drinking? Running off for the weekend with your buddies and stretching that to a few extra days? Gang-banging some slut behind a country and western bar on Saturday night? Drugs? Larceny? International espionage?"

"Do I get to ask the same questions?"

Those pleasantly warm brown eyes connected with mine. "Chuck, Chuck, Chuck," she sighed, "just the fact that you're ... we're having this conversation, in BED together, you know that tells me something."

"That I'm about two statements from being declared insane?" I said.

Apparently smart-assed answers are grounds for kissing. I got one.

"No, smart-ass," she said. It says that you have internal limits that don't come down just because part of your blood supply has been diverted away from your brain."

"Jenn, there's a huge part of me that wants to love you."

She giggled. "I can feel THAT." Her eyes crinkled in mirth.

"You know what I mean."

"I do, Chuck. You're voicing my own feelings. I think you know it."

"Yet here you are..."

"I know," she said softly. "I'm surprised, myself."

"Should we stop and retreat to our own beds?"

Her weight fell full atop me. Anther searing kiss. "Do you want to do that?"

"No. If you're sure this isn't..."

"No, it's not." And her hands snaked under the edge of my scrub tops.

It'd been entirely too long since I felt the touch of a woman, especially one like this. The occasional 'connection' that wasn't, the act seemed to me to be almost mechanical, that whole 'Tab A into Slot B' meme. This, though ... the touch of those hands carried more pure erotic passion than any semi-drunken coupling to which I'd subjected myself in the previous several years.

My own hands left her waist, her warm, pliant, living waist, moved down, my hands covering her rounded butt cheeks. Okay, I do admit to admiring the curve of those cheeks earlier, every time she walked past. The legs. Not overtly muscular, but carrying no extra fat. But that butt. I squeezed. Got an 'mmmmmm' for my efforts, then a wiggle like she was trying to mold her body into mine.

I kept one hand there. The pressure that she exerted against me was way out of proportion to the pressure I exerted on that hand. My other hand slid upward under her scrub top, savoring the taut skin of her back.

Another lingering, sighing kiss and she sat up.

"Coming to your senses?" I asked.

"You just keep thinking, Chuck LeBert," she said. She grabbed the hem of her scrub top and whipped it off over her head. "Should you turn that light off?" She glanced at my eyes. "Or leave it on? There's a sense that you can use if the light's on."

I stared at a pair of sagless 'B' cup breasts topped with pink, perky nipples. Managed to work my mouth into, "What's your preference?"

"I would prefer that you peel that shirt off."

I started struggling to do that while she still straddled me. She noted the effort and flipped a leg over me to leave herself sitting in the bed beside me. I sat up and peeled that top off.

Her eyes laughed. "Are we going to repeat this sequence in ten minutes or..." She finished the sentence by hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties.

"You mean I don't have to get you drunk and charm you with sweet words?"

"Oh, no, Chuck. You're much more subtle than that. You found all my hidden buttons and pushed them." She flipped onto her back and raised her hips, sliding those pale blue panties up those long legs, finally tossing them sideways.

"Okay, then," I said. I stood beside the bed, and bent over, shucking my own briefs. When I stood, she wasn't being subtle about looking at what was there before her, obviously erect, all six and a half inches of circumcised normality.

I watched her face. First, not even the slightest signs of disgust (really bad) or regret (almost as bad), either of which would have brought the proceedings to a halt. Instead, just the slightest hint of a smile, not some sort of fake leer meant to suggest uncontrolled lust or lasciviousness, but more like to say 'this is the way they look in bad porn'.

She patted the bed beside her. "Chuck, this is as seductive as I get."

"Jenn, if you were any more desirable I'd explode." And I started to crawl into bed.

Started. As in 'one knee on the mattress'. And two arms wrapped me and pulled me fully on top of her and she was writhing, positioning herself, working legs apart, and enveloping me, searching.

I started to say something but was stopped by her mouth on mine, her tongue probing, one of her hands holding my head for kissing. I could feel myself finding something hot and wet with that probe that had suddenly become the center of my existence. She felt it, too, and a few wiggles and we found ourselves mated.

The kiss parted with a sigh from her lips. Her brown eyes were bright in front of mine. "Chuck LeBert, you'd better be as serious as I am."

"I love you, Jenn Coleman." My turn for the kiss, then we couldn't keep still. I don't know what all she might have had pent up, but I know what I had pent up inside me and I knew that this mating was not going to be long-lasting. I was already fighting the rising fire.

"Slow," I whispered tersely.

She didn't go slow. She pounded upward against me, sharp breath hissing between her teeth. I was lost. There wasn't enough self-control in the universe to stop me now. Her hiss changed to "Unnggghhhhh!" and she slammed her pelvic arch into mine, then froze. Too late, I was spurting. She felt it. "Unnggghhhh!" Breathe. "Unnnggghhhh!" Breathe.

Her fingers fought for a non-existent hold on the short hair on the back of my head and she gave up and pulled my head down and fastened her lips to mine, breathing in sharp snorts through her nose. I managed short pushes to finish emptying the fire from me into her. Her legs languorously wrapped mine. Her arms held on. And I had no complaints.

Breathed together. Kisses. Sighs. More breathing. Then a little wiggle down below.

"We're making a mess of the sheets."

"I have more sheets. I may never have another moment like this in my life." Kiss. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever had one like this before."

A gentle push that I interpreted as a sign to move off her. I did. Got a naked Jenn plastered against me.

"If you can say that, Chuck, then you won't laugh at me when I say it."

I looked at her as she turned her face to mine.

"Seriously. Never. Ever. I have NEVER had an orgasm from intercourse. Fucking. Screwing. Anything right up to tonight. Apparently I have to be making love."

"Seriously?"

"I've faked a few. Wished it would happen, because to me it would have meant something. But no. Never. I'm not that experienced, Chuck. Couple of guys before you." She sighed. Understood my silence. Continued, "I don't want to be experienced. I want Chuck."

"I want Jenn. Jenn now. Jenn only. Jenn forever."

"Mmmmmmm." Giggle. "You got me. I want to be wanted."

"I want you."

Her fingers traced and tangled in my chest hair. She tugged. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Bother you?"