Elizabeth 06: The Honeymoon

Irene gave some consideration to suggesting Claridge's for dinner on Friday; but she decided at first that was a bit too blatantly romantic, and then she worried that it might well not be blatant enough given just how hot her blood was running. In the event, when Irene arrived back at her office from teaching her morning summer session on Friday, she found a note from Gregory awaiting her on her desk. Eagerly she tore the envelope open and read the note. She was still beaming with delight when her colleague Joan appeared in her office doorway. "Irene, could you...oh, I am sorry, are you preoccupied?"

"Not at all, Joan," Irene said, setting down the note. "How may I help you?"

"Oh, well, thank you, Irene. It is only that you looked most deep in thought about something there."

"I was, and am," Irene acknowledged. "The darling dear wants to make dinner for me at his home!"

"I'm a bit of a frustrated chef, I suppose," Gregory explained to her that evening, just after greeting her at his flat door with a glass of red wine in one hand and a single red rose in the other. The room was already full of the pleasant aroma of roast beef. "Gave serious thought to going to Paris to see about an apprenticeship somewhere, but my father insisted on banking. He said I could chase my silly dreams once I had my fortune made."

"I suppose you still could, then, couldn't you?" Irene asked from her vantage point by the kitchen window, Gregory having waved away any and all offers of help with the meal.

"One does get comfortable with the familiar after a time," he replied, looking up briefly from the vegetables he was chopping for the pot. He was wearing a darker suit today, minus the coat which was draped over the chair opposite Irene's at the little kitchen table; his tie was loosened but still present and he had rolled up his shirt sleeves, looking every inch the beleaguered but still energetic young professional she supposed he was. She suspected he had not changed clothes after work, but this only endeared her further to him. "I do like my job at the bank well enough and I adore Westfordshire City, and after all my friends are here. But maybe someday..."

"I understand all too well," Irene mused. "I once imagined myself setting off to see the world, or at least London. But life here has proven to be so very agreeable, hasn't it?"

"So I have heard, for you," Gregory said, scraping the vegetables into the boiling water.

"Exactly what have you heard about me?" Irene asked, intrigued.

"Only that you and your friends get on so exceedingly well, I assure you," Gregory said. "You all do have quite a reputation as an exceptionally tight-knit bunch, the sort we all envy for your intimacy with one another."

Irene let out a nervous laugh, curious as to just how much intimacy they were known for among Gregory's friends. No use in pressing him for information on that front, she concluded. "Well, I suppose that is so. We have seen each other through quite a lot. There was even a bit of consternation that Elizabeth's marriage might put an end to all that. But Agnes and I are finding it isn't so after all."

"I can't think why it should," Gregory said from the oven, where he was checking on what appeared to Irene to be baked potatoes. "All the boys down at the pub and the baths know how tight you all are, I can tell you that. Rather envious of it all, too, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Why should I mind that?" Irene asked. "That is very flattering, as a matter of fact. Rather a surprise to me, though."

"A surprise? That people envy you and your friends for your tight bonds?"

Irene sighed. There was no sense in being evasive with Gregory when he was rolling out the carpet for her. "I suppose you know, Gregory, that I have been single for some time now. Nearly a year since we lost Benjamin, and -"

"We?"

"I most of all, of course, but he was a friend to all the others as well. Once our bond was lost, things could never be the same with the others as well. What I was saying, though, is that I've had my time to mourn and accept the loss, and for better or worse, I have. For some time now I've been ready to fall in love again with someone new; but as you surely know, it has never even come close to happening. So all these lovely young men - yourself included, if I might be so bold - who envy us, you've had your opportunity to join us, but none has taken it."

"Myself included? Have I not invited you here tonight?"

"Yes, and I was positively delighted that you did," Irene reassured him. "Delighted and relieved, honestly. You were the perfect gentleman the other night, you know, but I was open to...well, a great deal more than we did."

Gregory was lifting the roast out of the oven, and for an uncomfortable instant Irene feared she might have inspired him to drop it on his feet. He succeeded in getting it to the counter, and turned to look at Irene with a bewildered look in his eyes. "Terribly sorry for that, then," he said. "I was only taking it slowly because after all, it was but one date."

"Yes, and that was lovely of you," Irene conceded. "I'm sorry if I sound ungrateful, Gregory. After giving it some thought I suspected as much. I suppose I am just very impatient after so many lonely months, and rather surprised to hear you and your friends envied me in any way when no one thought to invite me out. Until you did, but even that was only after I asked you first, after all."

Gregory looked thoughtful. "Would you like to know why none of us dared ask you first?"

"I believe I would," Irene said, though she was no longer sure of that.

"You have been wonderfully frank with me, Irene, and I shall do the same," Gregory said as he began carving the meat. "You and Agnes and Elizabeth, rumour has it, are quite sophisticated in the ways of intimacy. No two stories ever quite agree on exactly what the three of you and the men in your lives have done together, but all are agreed it is rather beyond the experience of most of us boys at the pub. Quite honestly, Irene, I think they are all rather intimidated. I admit I have been, and that is another reason why I kept you at arm's length the other night."

Irene felt her face growing red, and she burst into nervous laughter. "Good heavens, I ought to know by now how rumours travel in this town, hadn't I?"

"I'm sorry, Irene," Gregory said. "It is none of my business what you and your friends do behind closed doors." Having finished carving the roast, he turned and approached her slowly, collecting his coat from the chair. "Certainly you do not owe me an explanation. It is only that you asked why you haven't had better luck in love, and the answer is that few of us feel we can live up to the adventures you have reportedly had with your inner circle of friends.

Irene stood up and put her arms around Gregory. "Surely you would welcome the opportunity to prove you can, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not one to back down from a challenge," he quipped, returning her embrace.

"Well, then," Irene said, pulling back just far enough to look him in the eye. "Let us enjoy dinner, and then I shall see what I can do to put a stop to your intimidation!"

Gregory's dining room was small and cosy, and they ate by candlelight as the sun vanished outside the room's one small window. There was little small talk, but even less serious conversation, as Irene rather suspected she did not wish to know just what he had heard of what she had been up to with the rest of us. His cooking proved to be so good Irene almost feared he would accuse her of flattery; but he accepted her compliments graciously. "I might even believe you've never had a fellow cook for you before," he said.

"Jonathan has been known to cook for us," Irene said. "He's quite good at it as well, but he is also my cousin after all."

Gregory laughed. "Nothing I can add to that, I suppose. I apologize that I had no time to make a dessert. But it appears you have other ideas for dessert in any event."

"Many, many ideas," Irene said with a saucy grin, sipping her wine. "Might I help you with washing the dishes?"

"Don't be absurd, you're my guest." Gregory stood up and poured Irene some more wine. "I shall be quick about it. In the meantime you are free to go get comfortable in the other room."

"And so I shall," Irene said. She stood up and, though she was quite certain that by "the other room" he had meant the parlour, she retreated to the bedroom. Gregory, who would later confide in me that Irene was correct as to which room he had intended, watched her go with an approving eye and no comment on her intentional error.

In the bedroom, Irene turned on the electric light and drew the curtains, and set her wine glass on the dresser. Gazing upon Gregory's bed, she pondered her next move. It wouldn't do to frighten him off, of course; but was that really very likely after his confession to her before dinner? Perhaps his concerns simply called for an especially strong dose, and it was not as though she had left any doubt as to her intentions. Was she really bold enough to take such a dramatic first step?

After a long sip of the wine, she concluded that she was.

Gregory had been washing his own dishes long enough to be quite good at doing so very quickly. In his anticipation, he did it even more swiftly than usual, but having twice as many dishes to wash meant it still took a bit longer. Not wishing to appear a slob in Irene's presence, he resisted every temptation to leave the finer details of cleaning until the morning, and the kitchen was immaculate as ever when he switched off the electric light and made his way through the dining room, blowing out the candles as he went. In the darkness outside his bedroom, he could see that whatever Irene had up her sleeve, it had not involved turning off the lights.

It was, perhaps, for that reason that he had no anticipation at all for what awaited him when he opened the bedroom door: Irene lay curled up on the bed, wearing a welcoming smile and absolutely nothing else.

Even given her reputation (our reputation?), Gregory was taken aback. "Irene!" Instinctively he turned away.

Tamping down her not-inconsiderable embarrassment, Irene stood up. "It's all right, Gregory. Enjoy the view. Please."

He turned back slowly, as if fearing he might go blind if he looked directly at Irene's body. As he drank in the beautiful sight with no consequences and no effort on Irene's part to cover anything up, his consternation melted into titillation, and Irene's own embarrassment melted into something resembling pleasure. At last Gregory broke the silence. "It hardly seems right for me to be fully clothed, does it?" He tore his coat off hastily.

"Take your time, Gregory," Irene said, and she held out her arms. As he stepped gingerly into them, she said, "Surely you don't feel intimidated now, do you?"

"No, I suppose I don't," Gregory agreed. "What I do feel is that it is a bit unfair of me to be seeing you like this while I'm still dressed."

"Don't worry about that," Irene said. "I want you to be perfectly comfortable with what you see, and know that there is nothing to be intimidated about. I am only a woman who wants to share her body with you!" She untied his tie, and he looked down without a word and watched her do it.

"Beautiful," he exhaled finally. "I only regret that I cannot undress you while you undress me."

"You will be most welcome to do that next time, Gregory," Irene reassured him, pulling his tie away and going to work on his shirt. "In the meantime, there are things you're able and welcome to do this time." Stepping back, she took both his hands and placed them on her breasts. His gentle caresses on them put to rest any concerns Irene still had that she had pushed him too far, and she let him know quite clearly that she approved of his performance. He withdrew his hands just long enough to shrug his shirt off after she had finished unbuttoning it, and resumed his delightful touch as quickly as he could while Irene stood up on her toes to kiss him.

As lovely as his hands felt on her breasts, she hoped he would take the next step without guidance this time. She was not disappointed, for she felt his right hand slip downward and begin probing her vagina gently while their lips were still engaged. "Oh, that feels lovely," she whispered huskily, and she reached down to unfasten his belt buckle. Her usual self-consciousness about her large vulva was largely absent this time, perhaps because his eager finger-play betrayed no notice or care that she was different in any way. After she got his pants open and pushed them down toward his ankles, she found he was not appreciably different either. He was hard for her, and it was with tremendous pleasure that she squeezed him gently and stroked the underside just as Benjamin had always loved so much.

Gregory loved it as well, she found. After she had elicited a pleasant gasp, he whispered, "You're very good at that!"

"And you at this," Irene replied, patting his wrist. Tilting her head toward the bed, she added, "Shall we?"

"We shall indeed," Gregory agreed. As if to prove he was no longer frightened of her, he threw himself on the bed and lay on his back. Irene lost no time in climbing atop him, and his earlier stroking enabled her to guide him inside effortlessly.

Nearly a year of sexual frustration vanished in the sweetest way as she savoured his hard cock deep within her. "Ohhhh, Gregory, that feels absolutely divine!" she exulted. Opening her eyes, she saw him gazing happily up at her body. "Now then, do I still intimidate you?"

"Hardly," Gregory said. "I just wish I'd been so frank with you sooner. To think we could have done this the other night..."

"Like you said, that was the first date," Irene reassured him, though she privately shared his regret. "Now then..." for a moment she debated whether she ought to give him instructions as to how to touch her as they made love, and just what she would tell him if so.

This proved unnecessary, as Gregory reached up and resumed teasing her breasts in his delightfully gentle way without being told to. A pleasant revelation, since Benjamin had never touched her quite like that, the gesture set Irene free to unleash her wonderfully uninhibited self upon him, and presently she was humping him with utter abandon. Beneath her, inside her, touching her...it was all just a bit different, and fresh and new as a result. So was the bright electric light that bathed their bodies, but she found that an enjoyable change as well: the better to admire his taut, beautiful masculinity as he writhed with pleasure. Best of all were his heavy moans that rose and fell in intensity with her rhythm. As her rocking upon him grew faster, she could hear in no uncertain terms as his orgasm grew near; and she was rewarded with an outright scream as he came. The sheer intensity of it all was all Irene needed to bring her over the edge as well, and she collapsed joyfully atop him as her own orgasm washed over her.

"I ought to make you dinner more often," Gregory quipped after a few minutes of easy silence. Irene burst into laughter and gave him a final inner squeeze before sliding off him.

Elizabeth seriously considered forsaking her robe altogether for the walk to the beach the next day; but ultimately she decided to wear it. "Otherwise it feels too much like I'm putting on a show," she told Jonathan as she swung the robe on over her bathing suit.

"Isn't that what you are doing in a way, though?" he asked her, hoping he sounded gentle about it at least.

"I suppose so," Elizabeth conceded. "But I prefer to think of it more in terms of simply being true to myself and unapologetic about my body. That's the way it is on the beach, where everyone else is putting a great deal on display as well. Not so much in the hotel courtyard, you know."

"Well said," Jonathan agreed, and he also put his robe on for the walk.

Linda and Howard were, as promised, waiting for them very near the spot where they had made their acquaintance the day before. Linda was swathed in a pale blue bathing suit that was just as high-cut as Elizabeth's, and that revealed the same beautiful secret. She stood to greet Elizabeth and Jonathan as they approached, and Elizabeth recognized all too well the look of determination blended with a twinge of embarrassment on her face. "Linda, you did it!" she said just loudly enough for her new friend to hear. After tearing off her robe hurriedly, she took Linda in a fond embrace while Howard and Jonathan exchanged more low-key greetings. "And you look beautiful," she whispered in her ear.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Linda said. "You do as well. Aren't we quite a pair!"

"Strength in numbers," Jonathan said. "Isn't it wonderful!"

"It truly is liberating," Linda said. "I was just telling Howard, it feels just like a moment of awkwardness, and then once the secret is out most people simply don't mind you anymore. They have their own insecurities as well, I suppose."

"And there is no need for us to give in to ours," Elizabeth agreed.

On that note, they sat down to chat and get to know one another better, and to ignore scrupulously the curious looks they attracted from others who presumably had not been on the beach yesterday. Linda and Howard were from a town called Pittsburgh, which Jonathan knew from news of various labour disputes he had read about in his legal journals. They had lately come into a great deal of money due to a long-suffering business deal that had at long last come to fruition; but unlike the many nouveau-riche Americans who were taking the continent by storm, they were remarkably down to earth and pleasant. Jonathan and Howard compared notes on their professional backgrounds and travels to date while Linda told Elizabeth of her two little girls who were spending the summer with their grandparents. Just beyond their blanket, all four were aware of the occasional glare or stare, usually from a young man; eye contact from Jonathan or Howard was always enough to send the interloper packing.

Far more gratifying were the more admiring looks from other women, of which they were also very much aware. Jonathan of course noted that many of them were dressed modestly, and hoped on the morrow they might not be. "With any luck, the two of you are starting a trend," he quipped as they all stood up for a turn in the water.

"Wishful thinking on your part!" Elizabeth said sceptically.

"Yes, but sometimes wishes come true," Jonathan replied, and he kissed her on the cheek.

"Couldn't agree with you more," Howard said.

"Oh, stop that, you!" Linda chided him. "Do you know I had no idea he cared so much for this look before yesterday?"

"Well, it is hardly something one brings up at the table," Elizabeth said. At least, she thought, not unless one is forced to see it as a defining characteristic, as she had always felt she was. But that was all the more reason to lend her solidarity to others like Linda.

"Honestly, Elizabeth, that's just the problem," Howard said. "Linda and I come from a background where even married couples never talk about that sort of thing. Besides, I'd never seen her in a bathing suit like this before now. So it really was only now that I had the chance to see the appeal of it all." Putting his arm around Linda, he continued, "But rest assured, dear, I see it now."

"You're too much, Howard," Linda chided. But she also looked very happy.

The walk down to the water brought them more attention still; but only one young man was foolish enough to open his mouth on the matter. "For heaven's sake, shave, the both of you!" he called out. Elizabeth was practiced in ignoring such barbs; Linda followed her lead, but Jonathan turned to glare at the heckler.