Riverside Afternoon, w/Marshmallows

Now she worried to herself - Wouldn't he ever ASK? About "IT"? The problem was, if and when he did ask, how would she respond? She didn't know. Her thoughts were in turmoil again. Monkey-mind - that was what her mother called Julie when she would bounce from thought to thought. And then her monkey-mind jumped onto a branch of thought that had been hidden somewhere way, way back in the depths. She almost froze when her brain grabbed it and brought it up to examine. It was scary. She tried to stop herself, but absolutely could not. She had to know. Now.

"Jimmy..." she began in a very small voice. The change of tone caught his attention completely. He waited. "Jimmy... Is this something... I mean, it's not nice to ask I suppose, but... Do you do this with ALL the players on your teams? They all like you and you probably could get them if you wanted to. But DO YOU?"

There. It was out. Monkey had certainly won this battle! Now she prepared to be miserable.

Jimmy shook his head very gently, reached for her face, held her chin just like he had yesterday at the soccer field and said "No. I don't. I've always been very careful about that. I have lots and lots of daydreams and fantasies, about lots of women - every human male does. And for me, they've been especially about YOU, by the way. But what's inside my head is perfectly private, and I don't let it out. YOU, Julie, are the very first player I've ever let myself approach. I've been thinking about this since the day we met. And then you asked me to come over here with you, to this secret pace, and I simply couldn't resist any more. So now you know. And NO, I do not propose to start in on any of the others. Just you, just us."

She looked at him, hard. He was quite serious, and relief washed through her like a warm wind. She whispered "I'm sorry. I just had to know. I suppose it really wouldn't make any difference, would it?"

And to discover that 'her' Jimmy had been having FANTASIES about HER! What an unbelievable compliment that was... she thought. Or did it mean he thought she was easy, a slut? Did men have fantasies about girls they LIKED, or just about girls they thought they could fuck because they were easy? Maybe she could ask him that, too. Sometime anyway, but certainly not now.

Jimmy shook his head again at her 'no difference' remark. "Of COURSE it would make a difference. I'd be very upset if you liked and trusted me enough to be here with me, and then I found out it didn't matter to you if I was spreading my attentions around the team! Nobody likes to share their special person with somebody else. Do we?"

He looked right down deep into her when he said that, and it warmed her through and through. Special person! Special PEOPLE, more than one, therefore two. Him. Her. Two- or perhaps one when you considered them together? Amazing.

They sat there in silence again. Light spots wiggled and danced. The river flowed slowly past them. No hurry.

Eventually, Jimmy hugged her to him for a long moment, sat up. To her great disappointment he reached for their clothes. She was certain that her question had upset him, although he said it had not.

She almost pouted. Were they DONE? If so, WHY? It certainly didn't feel like they should be stopping. There must be more! It wasn't supposed to end this way, not after she had been through all that mental agony and debate and had figured out what the proper answer was to the question! Why wouldn't he ask? Should SHE ask HIM? She wanted to ask, wanted it almost desperately, but couldn't do it.

He held her shorts out for her. As she stepped into them, he slid his hands up her sides, settled his thumbs atop her nipples, and kissed her again. It was a powerful kiss, different, somehow, from those that had gone before. It renewed every type of tingle she'd had today.

He pulled back gently, just an inch or two, whispered to her across the little chasm, "Would you like to spend the rest of the afternoon with me at my house?"

THE QUESTION, at last at last! Sort of, anyhow. What else would they need his house for if not "IT"? Hallelujah! She threw her arms around his neck, buried her face against his throat, and said almost fiercely, "YES! I thought you weren't going to ask. I feel like maybe I did something wrong. YES!"

Jimmy made it perfectly clear that she had NOT done anything wrong. Far from it. They helped one another dress, then cleaned up their little mess. She told herself, as she retrieved her bandages, that she was obeying the good part of her conscience.

His turn to lead, now. Hand in hand they walked along the river's edge for a couple of hundred yards, then up to the top of the bank. They emerged in a heavy woods. He led her straight to where quite suddenly there appeared the back of a house, just feet from the edge of the trees. His house! There were other houses on each side, but nobody could see them emerge and cross the little yard, then duck in through the back door.

As the door shut behind them, a shivery new, deeper nervousness flooded over Julie. The walk had calmed her down a lot. What the dickens was she doing here, anyhow? (As if she didn't know, she told herself!) The afternoon had been CRAZY already, and this next step was probably INSANE. But then, her hand buried in Jimmy's felt awfully good. Better than good - it felt perfect. Every way they touched, they seemed to fit just right.

They kicked off their shoes, and he took her on a short tour. Two stories. Upstairs was his bedroom: a big bed, chest of drawers, dark rug, mirrors, all rather male. She could tell that there was no woman here, there was no female touch to anything she saw. Her ability to discern this surprised her, and the analysis pleased her immensely. Her biology at work, although she didn't understand that at the moment.

Then, much to her dismay, they left the bedroom and went back downstairs! There in the middle of the living room they stood, looking at one another. She was terribly confused - they had been so close, so very, very close, within literal touching distance of his huge bed... and then they had retreated. Her mind rebelled at that. NO! Not 'they', 'they' mean both of them - it was JIMMY who had retreated, not she, and he had taken her with him!

More doubts assailed her. Was she supposed to have DONE something while they were up there for those few moments when her heart was pounding so hard it had to be audibly echoing off the walls? What had gone wrong?

Jimmy said "Just stand there for a moment, okay?" He went to the front door and unlocked the deadbolt, opened the heavy door a crack, then returned and dropped to his knees in front of her, reached out and cupped her bottom deliciously, firmly, in both hands. He looked up at her.

"Are you sure about being here with me? About everything we might be going to explore? No coercion, and guaranteed no recriminations if you decide you have to leave. This can always be delayed, or even cancelled. Your choice... stay, delay,, cancel."

The Question again, completely explicit now.

Another chance to retreat? Not very likely! Would he NEVER quit and understand that her "YES" - how many times repeated now? - meant YES? That she understood what was happening? That she wanted and needed it with every fiber of her entire being?!

She nodded: her heart was thundering, her throat was totally dry, and she couldn't have made a squeak if her life depended on it. The nod was a huge effort. He had just asked, hadn't he?

And she had agreed.

Oh dear.

He stood, leaned down and kissed her, very lightly. Lips, nose, forehead, ear lobes, throat, and back to lips again. Then he said in an almost inaudible sigh, "Julie, I told you that we both have to be sure. And so, especially, do you. So you just stand here for a minute while I go upstairs to my bedroom. Stand here and think. The front door is open, so you can leave if you want, and I'll understand completely. If you do leave, it doesn't mean we can't do more dates like today, it just means you've discovered that you're not ready yet for some things, and I will understand. Those things can ALWAYS wait a while if they must. Nothing wrong with taking your time!"

He stopped, cocked his head sideways, eyed her again and said "On the other hand, you might be totally ready for everything in the world. You have to decide. Stay here as long as you need, and then either go out the door, or lock it and come up to my room."

He waited a short beat, and finished: "But if you DO come upstairs to me, we are going to teach you how to make love and you will never, ever be the same person. Okay? Understand? You have to really want this if WE are going to do it!"

She nodded.

He turned and went up the stairs without a backwards glance.

She stood there alone, expecting her mind to be a boiling, confused and mass of conflicting thoughts and desires, as it had been for most of the day, at least off-and-on. But it wasn't that way, not at all. It was much more like the river they had just left. Mirror-still and peaceful. Her body was still nervous, but not the mind inside. Very odd how that that could be. She took two or three breaths, then turned and walked to the front door. The door moved silently on its hinges as she shut it: the latch closed with just the tiniest little click. A very final sort of sound, like in the movies, only real life. HER life!

She mounted the carpeted stairs, legs shaking just enough so she was aware of it and tried to calm them. She stopped outside Jimmy's bedroom, where he couldn't see her yet, and took one more deep breath. Silently, carefully, she removed her blouse, shimmied out of her shorts into complete nudity. Nudity was required, of that she was certain. If not immediately, then for sure eventually, so why not start that way?

She felt utterly serene and sure of herself now, the body-nervousness vanished, replaced by a crystalline calm that encompassed her whole being, physical and mental together. She KNEW she was doing the right thing. It was her choice - but then, it always had been, hadn't it? Goose bumps covered her chest and legs, her nipples puckered, and down between her legs, her juices flowed.

Ready.

She stepped through the doorway. There lay Jimmy on his enormous bed, naked, smiling, and obviously eager for her to join him. He held out a hand towards her and said the nicest thing.

"I thought you'd NEVER get here!"

A long, active interlude followed.

She left Jimmy's bed and home late in the afternoon, unable to either brag or to complain about any remaining virginities. Little Miss Punctual Herself, she arrived at home precisely at the start of dinner. Her parents were pleased. Sitting there at table, her mind fragmented again: one bit handled the dinner-time chit-chat - yes she had gone to the river; "No, Mother, I didn't go any deeper than my ankles; after all I promised you that and I keep promises!"

Another, larger bit fretted and stewed over WHY her parents couldn't tell that there had been this monumental change in their daughter, surely it must be written on her forehead in big scarlet letters for the world to see? But no... not a flicker from either M or D, so apparently there was NO external sign! How utterly wonderful, such incredible relief.

Then through it all, there was the bit of brain capacity that was keeping inventory on the sparkles - diminished but still real - from her nipples, and the ongoing glow from her belly and crotch, a glow that was iridescent and swirling like an oil-slick on sunlit water.

Finally there was the odd, sensual feeling of the mingled contraceptive foam and Jimmy's contribution as it oozed gently, steadily from her pussy (back to the dratted terminology problem, she realized!) into the little pad of toilet paper he'd made up just to catch it. Such a total gentleman! And in her bottom the oddest of residual ticklings - premonitory silent rumblings suggesting that when she finally got to the bathroom she was going to have a very strange little Jimmy-sauce bowel movement. She would catch that on the pad, then add the pad and today's used nipple-bandages to her tiny collection of super-private souvenirs, all kept in her steel lock-box, absolutely inviolate from the parents. Secrets! Wonderful, delicious secrets.

But the very best, really, was how one part of her mind steadily contemplated the infinitude of Saturdays that lay before them.