Beware the Roasburies! Pt. 01

"You're ringing well," I said changing the subject, "You should be ringing methods soon. Do they ring doubles?" (Doubles are on five bells, with the sixth keeping time, which is easier). "That would be a good start - Grandsire or Plain Bob."

"Perhaps next week. Jeff's very good, he keeps us moving on."

I saw her into the house, we kissed at the door and I left for home. On the way I turned things over in my mind. Memories of the previous week, happy, contented, relaxed.

Then bringing her to Liverpool, it felt different. I realised that this was a place she was starting to treat as a second home. She was at home there, she had a room and people she knew whom I didn't know. She was living a life of which I knew nothing. Then there was a feeling I was intruding somehow as a visitor, and I remembered she did not ask me in for a drink before I left for home, or was it that I wanted to get away?

I had only just entered the flat when the phone rang. It was Penny.

"Darling, I wanted to be sure you got home safely. I miss you so much."

"Me too," I answered.

We chatted for a short time and then I suggested she needed to get to bed, with her course restarting the next day. So we signed off with expressions of love and affection. I felt much better.

Weekend 10 - 11 January 1970

Things settled down. We phoned and wrote, and we worked. The first weekend she stayed in Liverpool which was a break from her routine the previous term, but she pointed out that the course was getting more intensive and she needed to consult papers and books the library would not release, but kept for reference. I met Ian at the pub on Saturday night, and went to the parental home for lunch on Sunday after ringing for the service.

Weekend 17-18 January 1970

She came to my place the following week on the train, and said she really couldn't afford to commute every week. I shrugged and offered to pay her fare, but she said it wouldn't hurt us to see each other once a fortnight and it would mean she could use the library more effectively. She wanted to get a distinction in her course, and that meant working hard. I understood that; she was something of a perfectionist. I remembered how disappointed she had been at not getting a first for her degree.

Sunday 1st February 1970

Two weeks later I went to Liverpool on Sunday morning after ringing, and took her out to Chinatown for lunch. We went for a walk afterwards. I stayed the night and left early the next morning to get to work before the flexitime deadline. I was sure Mr Walsh would be keeping an eye out for me, stop-watch in hand.

Weekend 7-8 February 1970

On the first weekend of February, and I pointed out that the next weekend was Valentine's weekend and was she coming over? Oh yes, indeed she was.

It was on the 13th February 1970, the Friday before Valentine's Day itself, that our relationship took another step forward, or rather two steps. Another Friday the Thirteenth!

For a reason I could not fathom I had felt cut off from her that term, even though we talked on the phone weekly and wrote to each other once and sometimes twice a week. Her letters were all full of love and were often explicitly sexy, as were mine, so I shrugged the feeling off.

It was during the weekends when we were separated that I missed her badly. So perhaps that was why I felt a strong need to belong more deeply to each other. I wanted her to commit to me as I wanted to be committed to her, and I was going to ask her again to get engaged.

Weekend 13-14 February 1970

Penny made the journey from Liverpool to my flat on Friday evening, and I had booked a table at one of the better restaurants in Manchester, Orchards, the one where we had celebrated her graduation.

She arrived at the flat and put her bags in the bedroom, and then took to the bathroom for extended preparations for the evening. I brought her tea in the bathroom. She had found the bubble bath bottle, and so most of her charms were covered by the bubbles. She turned down my offer to scrub her back, and so I withdrew.

After the meal, which she appreciated greatly, we returned to the flat and thence to the local pub. We found a fairly quiet table, not easy on a Friday, and once the drinks were in place, I popped the question, or at least I tried.

"Penny my sweetheart, I've asked you before, and each time you've said you were not sure and needed more time, so I'm asking you again-"

"Yes, I will," she said, her eyes sparkling and a grin from ear to ear.

"Pardon?" I said, taken aback and unsure what she meant.

"I said yes, I will," she said. "To the question you are going to ask."

At last I caught on. "You have decided, then?"

"I've said so, haven't I? Yes, I think we should get married. In fact I'm sure. I do love you very much and I want to be with you. Being apart this year has made it clear to me that I don't want to be apart from you any longer than absolutely necessary."

We did not kiss. I still do not know why - you would have thought it would be almost compulsory.

Instead I sighed with relief. "Thank you. Would you like to look for a ring tomorrow?"

She nodded. "That would be nice," she said with a grin. "Very nice."

"Shall I get us another drink to celebrate?"

"Ooh, yes, I'll have another half of bitter please," and she laughed at my expression. I knew she was a beer drinker, but expected her to want something more extravagant by way of celebration.

"So, no champagne?"

"No, but on second thoughts I'll push the boat out," a pause, "and have a pint."

I got us a pint each, and I asked her what sort of ring she wanted. She surprised me again.

"You know, what I'd really like as an engagement ring, is a watch. I've not got one, but it would be useful when I start work. It was a problem timing lessons on first practice without one. I don't really mind not having a ring as such."

In truth I was a little disappointed. If she were wearing a ring it would tell everyone we were engaged, whereas a watch would give no message at all. I offered a ring as well, but she turned the idea down, on the grounds that because her parents would probably not fund our wedding since they didn't like our relationship, we would be paying for it ourselves. I had expected as much and saw the wisdom of her thinking.

We left the pub, stopped and kissed at some length, and then we returned to my flat. There we broke out the whisky and a Cointreau for her, and watched a sappy film on the TV. A few more kisses, a little fondling and then it was bedtime, and we were feeling no pain.

We went to the bedroom and I expected her to go to the bathroom to change, but she didn't go. She took off her clothes right there, one by one, in front of me, facing me, smiling shyly.

Her sweater, then her blouse, revealing a lacy dark blue bra. My eyes fell to her chest and looking up again saw her looking very self-consciously back at me. She then reached up under her skirt and pulled down her thick tights (this was February after all). Then she unclipped her skirt and allowed it to fall to the floor, leaving her in a matching pair of lacy dark blue french knickers. The bra hinted at her nipples, which in any case were pushing the bra into points, and her bush showed as a darker presence at her mound.

At this she paused and stood with her hands clasped in front of her, looking at me with apprehension. I smiled.

"You are so beautiful," I said, "so beautiful. Great undies. I'm so lucky to have you."

She blushed prettily, and the bra was then unclipped and fell forward and off, and the view as she stood before me presenting her body for my inspection, was highly arousing and very satisfying.

I took off my tie, undid my shirt and took it off, allowing it to sink to the floor. I kicked off my shoes, and lifted each foot to remove my socks. Then the trousers were unclasped and unzipped and pushed down over my hips until they fell to the floor and I was able to step out of them as they lay puddled at my feet.

I was erect and my cock was pushing out my boxers obscenely. I am not hung like a horse, and my prick is not as wide as a coke bottle. I am really the epitome of average. Even so, it was making quite an impression on the garment.

I felt confused. She'd played with my prick often enough, and more recently had had it in her mouth, so she knew it by sight, feel and taste, but she was gazing at it as if she were a virgin (which of course she was). I hooked my thumbs over the waistband and lifted them over the obstruction and pushed them down my legs, until they joined my trousers under the pull of gravity. Good old Newton!

I was naked; she was staring thoughtfully; she had on her panties. I cleared my throat.

Her guilty look as her eyes flashed up to meet mine was comical and I laughed. "You're gorgeous and you are entitled to look all you want. After all this is the package you wanted, what you committed to tonight - unless you want to change your mind?"

It broke her discomfiture, and she laughed in her turn, more of a giggle really.

"No," she smiled, looking downwards again. "It all looks fine to me."

I expected her to climb into bed as she was, but she slid the knickers down her slim legs and stepped out of them, leaving her nude. She stood with her hands by her side with a questioning expression on her face, head tilted to one side. She had never stood for inspection like that before.

"Now it's your turn. Want to change your mind?" Her hands went to her hips, one foot before the other, slightly apart, foremost knee bent, in a challenge.

"No," I mimicked her, "It all looks fine to me."

--

Chapter Five

I think that was the moment the line was crossed, no matter what Penny might have thought. She came into my arms and with her legs spaced pressed herself against me. Her arms went round my neck, which pressed her taut tipped tits against my chest, and her mound against my already grown erection. We kissed gently and lovingly at first and then (and I can't remember who took the lead), increasingly voracious and abandoned. She raised herself onto her toes and my cock obligingly slid between her thighs, then as she sank down it pressed against her furrow and parted her moist petals.

We drew breath and moved rapidly to the bed where we entwined and kissed some more. Things became more and more passionate until either she lay on her back, legs open, or I pushed her. In any case she definitely pulled me over on top of her, of that I am sure, so that I was laying between her wide open thighs and my aching cock was pushing along her now not so secret but well irrigated valley.

I pulled away a little, and she angled her hips, and I was inside her lips. I stopped at the edge between her inner labia, but she grasped my bottom and pulled me further in, and finding her open sheath, I sank to the hilt.

She had her eyes closed, she was breathing deeply. I pulled back slowly and she whimpered, I pushed back in and she moaned. I did it again, she moaned again. Then I stopped. She made a movement to do it again, then she stopped as well.

There was war going on in me, some of it below consciousness. There was the biological drive to copulate and impregnate, and there was an emotional warning bell and siren that this was a bad idea.

There was the warm silky feeling of her vagina clasping me urging and impelling me to stroke in and out and feel that indescribable pleasure of her body, and everything else in me shouting to stop before I did something quite stupid and irreversible.

Just a few strokes, just a few. Do it slowly, you're nowhere near coming. Oh that feeling! That was the temptation. Then a fleeting thought as I lay deep within. There was no resistance, no hymen, no blood?

That stopped me and I withdrew, rolled to the side and began to caress her. She opened her eyes and they were full of guilt, and I knew why. She pushed my hand away.

"Graham we shouldn't have done that. You knew I didn't want that until I was married."

She moved away from me in the bed. It provoked annoyance. I was getting the blame - again?

"You knew it as well," I reposted, "but you went ahead anyway. You pulled me in."

"I could be pregnant."

"Unlikely, I was nowhere near; I hardly moved."

"Some sperm could have leaked out."

"As I said, highly unlikely."

"We had no right to take even the slightest risk."

"Wait a minute. You said full sex only if fully committed. Didn't we commit to each other tonight, and didn't you move your hips and push me into you? Or didn't you mean it when you said you'd marry me?"

"Of course I said I'd marry you, and I meant it, but we shouldn't take risks like that until we're married."

"We could use protection." I said, knowing the reaction.

"I don't want rubber between us. I want us to be open to each other and to having a baby. So I don't want to do it again until we're married."

"We've not done it at all yet," I said peevishly. "That was not full sex. We hardly moved, you didn't come and I certainly didn't."

"I don't care. OK, I want our first time when we do it properly to be without barriers. So don't try anything like that again."

That angered me. "I would point out that I pulled out, by myself. My decision. I didn't notice you pushing me away at any stage. So don't try loading all the guilt on me."

I turned my back on her. All the romantic feelings I had had for her had gone. In my book she had ruined a wonderful evening by blaming me for something we both did, and for which I did not feel in the slightest bit guilty.

"Graham..."

"Just go to sleep. You might like to reconsider some of your comments in the cold light of the morning. You've ruined what could have been a beautiful evening. We both did it, I pulled out. I stopped it. You didn't. So take the blame yourself if you must lay blame. Go on your own private guilt trip if you can't admit it to me, but don't lay it on me. Goodnight."

Silence, then she turned onto her side facing my back. After a few moments, I could feel her crying.

I turned over and took her in my arms.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I was frightened. Sorry, sorry!"

"All right," I soothed. "Just get some sleep. We're both tired." (I could have added 'and drunk').

She lifted her face for a kiss, which she got, then buried her head into my shoulder.

"I really do love you," she said quietly.

"And I love you," I replied. "Now get some sleep."

Next morning was Valentine's Day. I woke up to find the bed empty. My spirits dropped as I remembered the last time, when she came out of the bathroom fully dressed, but this time she came into the bedroom carrying mugs of tea and she was still gorgeously naked.

She carefully put the mugs on the two bedside cabinets, giving me a smouldering kiss and climbing back into bed. We drank the tea before she broached the subject.

"I need to say something about last night," she said, continuing before I could say anything. "I was unfair. After you fell asleep, I couldn't get off to sleep and I realise now that I made the running. I was so excited and I did want you to make love to me, but once you were inside me I was terrified even though I loved the feeling of you there, filling me up.

"Then you didn't do anything and then pulled out. I felt so empty. It was so unfair of me to attack you as if you had seduced me. So I'm sorry; it was my fault, not yours."

"Penny, we had had a lot to drink as well. It lowered our inhibitions."

"That's as maybe, but I didn't just allow it, I was the protagonist."

Protagonist! She certainly had a way with words.

It was typical of her. She was true to herself, and wouldn't let herself get away with anything, but she had gone to the other extreme: instead of blaming me, now she was blaming herself for the whole thing.

She continued, "I've decided something. I don't think it's a good idea for us to be sleeping together so often, it's an accident waiting to happen. So I won't be coming here so often this term, and if we sleep together, I'll wear pyjamas."

Here we go again, I thought, Make decisions without consulting me.

"Just a minute," I said sharply, "You've decided. You'll not be coming here. You'll be wearing pyjamas." Here a note of sarcasm crept in. "D'you know, I really thought we were a couple. I thought couples discussed things, and agreed things together."

She was quiet. Then, "I can't do anything right, can I? But I've got a lot to lose. I'm the one who might get pregnant, so I think I have a right to make rules, but if you don't agree..."

I took a breath. "This is how I see it. Last night was a special night. We were both on an emotional high, and things got out of hand-"

"That's why-"

"No, wait. We've been together for fourteen months. We've got closer, we've slept naked together for best part of a year. I've wanted you for a long time, but until last night, did I ever give you the slightest feeling that I was going to seduce you?"

"Well, no."

"And from what you've just said, I didn't last night either. I couldn't resist when you offered yourself to me. So don't you think you're overreacting? If we want to marry it means we want to be together as often as possible, we want to be together for life. Now it seems that the day after we commit to marry, you're cutting me off."

"You see," she said, "Losing control like we did last night leads to arguments and anger - and you are angry. But don't you see? It's not your self control that worries me, it's mine. After what I felt last night, I don't know if I can keep away from you. You understand?"

"If you tell me that you might lose control, you can be sure I won't let myself be seduced from now on. You know a number of times I've asked you to trust me. Have I ever let you down?"

"No, every time it's been good for me."

"So trust me again. You want to wait till we marry. OK, I'll wait. But to keep away from me, you think that'll help? It'll make us frustrated and more likely to slip up."

She thought for a moment. "You're right, of course. I'd not thought it would make it more likely that we'd go too far, but in any case, I think I'll be busier this term. There are observations and some practicals."

"So where does that leave us?"

"I'll come to you as often as I can, and you could come to me sometimes, just for a day if I have a lot on. How's that?"

"OK," I said with resignation. "D'you still want to go and choose your watch?"

She smiled broadly, and nodded. We finished our tea, lay down and hugged and stroked, brought each other off, then lay entwined for a while before getting up for the day. She chose an omega watch with a gold bracelet, and I left the shop with a much heavier credit card bill but a light heart. I got an enthusiastic hug and kiss for my trouble, and after some more shopping we made our way home.

"Darling," she said, as we drove back to the flat, "When should we announce it? What about Easter? Your family gets together and I have to go visit my parents, and Derek and Ingrid would be there. What do you say?"

Well, she'd learned something about discussing things, so I agreed. No one else needed to know until we were ready to tell them.

"One question they're going to ask is when are we getting married," I ventured. "Did you have a date in mind?"

"I thought Easter next year, April." she said, "Suit you?"

"Suits me," I said.

Friday 20 - Sunday 22 February 1970

The following weekend, as if to validate what we had discussed, she came for the weekend. She worked for most of the time, but we went to the pub and met Ian. When she came to bed she was naked.

That was her all over (yes, yes, because she was naked. I meant she took what I had said about trust seriously). She often showed by her actions that she was implementing important decisions rather than talking further about them.