They
sat, side by side, watching the television until late into the night. The wind shook the hotel from time to time
and rain rattled against the windows.
Monica did not know when she fell asleep but thin gray light came
through the windows when she woke, curled on her side with David spooned warmly
up against her back. His hand was
resting lightly on her belly, gently holding her up against him and she could
feel his breath on the back of her head, gently stirring her hair. Monica felt a rush of emotion, happiness and
gratitude to David for his patience, and to her relief a soft sensual enjoyment
of the sensation of his body against hers.
She
gently put her hand over his and pressed it down, and snuggled back against him
more tightly. Her night gown had bunched
up around her hips in the night and she could feel the bulge of his erection
against her bottom through her panties. David
tensed and tried to move back but she held tight to his hand. His voice was strangled, “Monica…”
Her
voice was soft and warm, “It’s okay. It
feels good.” Gently she took his hand
and began to rub it in slow circles on her belly. “I like that.” She sinuously ground her bottom against his
heat. “Don’t you like the way that
feels?”
His
voice was tense, “Yes, but…”
She
twisted around in his arms and touched her fingers to his mouth. “Shhh… I want to make you feel good.” She pressed her lips against his neck, and
then whispered, “Could you take off your undershirt and…? I want to touch you.” She slipped her hands down to toy with the
elastic of his boxers.
He
was tense under her hands, “Monica, Pretty Girl, are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“But
what if I want to? I love you. This part of making love does not scare
me. It would make me happy to know that
I made you feel good. This does not feel
like rushing, it feels right.” She
slipped her hands up under his shirt and ran her fingers through the soft hair
on his chest. She murmured, “Oh good, I
like men with hair on their chest.” She
pushed his shirt up and rubbed her cheek over the tickly hair on his
chest.
David
chuckled, “Enjoy the chest hair, Pretty Girl; I seem to have a lot more there
than on the top of my head.”
Monica
tugged impatiently at his shirt, “I like your bald head.”
David
awkwardly pulled his shirt off and Monica pulled back and looked at his
chest. His brown face and arms
contrasted sharply with his white chest.
He had a light sprinkling of hair across his upper chest and Monica
noted that a few of the hairs were white.
He had broad shoulders and a flat hard stomach. She curiously touched the hair, and then
leaned down and kissed his shoulder. She
could feel that his body was tense and she smiled softly as a tiny quiver shook
through him.
When
her lips traced down and found one of his nipples and gently kissed, she felt
his breathing stop for and instant and she looked up to meet his eyes watching
her. She lifted her lips from him and
blew softly on the damp flesh, and smiled softly. “Pretty good shape for an old man.”
David
did not say anything but his hands gripped her and pulled her face up to his
and this time when they kissed there was a gentle urgency to his lips, and when
she opened her mouth to him, his tongue was quick to meet hers. He lay on his side facing her, and her head
lay on his outstretched arm. His other
hand was gently twined in her hair, trapping her face to his, as their tongues
met and danced. His skin felt hot under
her hand and as she stroked the palm of her hand down the plane of his belly
she could feel the ripple of his muscles as a tiny convulsion shook through
him.
Her
eyes were closed and still locked in their kiss; Monica let her hand slip
lower. Keeping her hand outside the
fabric of his boxers, she carefully, almost cautiously she traced the contour
where his belly met his thigh. David
pulled his face from hers and whispered hoarsely. “Pretty Girl, exactly how far is this going
to go?”
A
tiny wave of nervous reluctance flowed through her, making her body tense but
she pushed back at it. “Could you just
let me touch you, with my hand?”
“You
don’t have to do that.”
“David,
please, I want to.”
David
reached down and pulled the blankets up over them up to their shoulders and
looked into her eyes, and then nodded.
She could sense his uncertainty and shyness and somehow that made her
feel bolder. She reached down and traced
the outline of his erection through his underwear, and then pressed against him
with the palm of her hand, gently pressing his hardness back against his belly. She looked at his face. His eyes were closed but his eyebrows jerked
and he inhaled sharply the air hissing across his teeth.
Tentatively
she worked her hand inside the waistband of his boxers and curiously touched
the spongy tip and lightly explored. She
was pleased to find that he was circumcised.
It was hard to maneuver her hand and she tugged impatiently at the
elastic of his last article of clothing.
He lifted his hips, letting her ease them down but did not reach to
help. When the underwear were down
around his thighs he settled back down and lay on his back, his eyes shyly
closed, one arm still holding her cradled against his chest.
Monica
lay her head down on his shoulder and gently ran her fingers over the length of
him. She let her fingers measure his
length and then wrapped around his girth.
He felt big, bigger than she had experienced before. She resisted the urge to push down the
blanket and look, but she sensed he needed this little bit of privacy to feel
comfortable enough to lay back and surrender to her caresses. She smiled secretly to herself; there would
be lots of opportunities to explore further.
As
she gained confidence, she wrapped her fingers around him and began to rub up
and down, her movements deliberate and rhythmic. She could feel his body tense and
trembling. Her arm was starting to feel
some fatigue, the muscles aching and beginning to burn, when David reached down
and covered her fingers with his own, squeezing them a little tighter and
urging them to a faster pace. A little
rush of exaltation shot through Monica when he tensed and she felt the spasms
of his ejaculation pulse under her hand.
His body sagged and a slow deep exhalation accompanied his release.
She
pulled her tired arm up and wrapped it around him giving him a fierce, happy
hug. “Thank you for letting me do that.”
David
tried to talk but coughed and had to clear his throat, “You took me by surprise
there, Pretty Girl. I was not expecting
that.” He began to contort a little and
Monica realized he was using the sheet to wipe up and then he eased his
underwear back up.
“Did
you like that?”
He
stilled and she could feel him searching for words. “It felt nice.” His voice was a little neutral.
“You
didn’t like it.” It wasn’t a
question. A soft wave of confusion and
disappointment flowed over her body, draining away the feeling of happiness. She tried to slip from the bed, wanting
nothing more than to flee this suddenly embarrassing situation. “I’m sorry.”
David
caught her and pulled her back to face him.
His hands on her holding her were gentle but very strong. “I did not say that. It just surprised me and I guess I was a
little embarrassed.” When Monica tried
to turn away, but he held her and whispered, “Pretty Girl, look at me. Don’t pull away. Please, listen.”
She
looked up at him, her lips quivering.
His eyes were very serious. His
voice was soft, “Ready to listen?” When
her head nodded reluctantly, he pulled her to his chest and began to
speak. “This is going to be a long
speech, better get comfortable.”
Monica
snuggled up closer, hiding her face against his neck. She nodded and mumbled, “Okay.”
“I
have already told you that the only woman I have had sex with was my wife,
Irene. I said that we were pretty
conservative sexually and that we did not often have sex and that toward the
end of our marriage we did not have sex at all.” Monica nodded against his chest. “We were both raised with conservative,
strong Christian beliefs, Irene especially.
I know that does not mean that we believed sex was bad but neither of us
had much information. We only had
conventional, missionary intercourse. We
were both raised to see sexuality as just a means of procreation and I think
that somehow both of us felt like anything,” he paused groping for words, “…anything,
creative, was somehow perhaps sinful.”
Monica
inhaled wanting to interject, to protest, but before she could speak, his arm
tightened, his words stopping her.
“Please, let me finish and then I will listen to you.”
“Okay.”
“Thank
you. That was a long time ago. After Irene and I grew apart, stopped being
intimate, I started taking work assignments that kept me on the road a
lot. I learned a lot about the world but
somehow had this opinion that the world was going to hell in a hand basket,
that I was right and the rest of the world was somehow a decadent, sinful place. I went through a lot of years feeling a lot
holier than the rest of the people around me.”
His voice turned light and he drawled, “I had a hell of a big stick up
my ass.”
Monica
giggled.
“Then
Irene got sick. I came home to nurse her
and be with her. We may not have been
close but, damn it, I still loved the hell out of her. We had about a year together and toward the
end there was no real reason to be stiff or shy. Somehow having death sitting with you makes
all that shallow stuff go away. Irene
told me how guilty she felt about never being ‘a good wife’ to me, and I
realized that my thinking had probably been a way for me to deny my own needs and
feelings. Because the real truth was I
did want to have sex, I had lustful thoughts all the time. It was a very deep dark dirty secret of mine
that I was the same sinful, decadent animal like all the rest of the world that
I was so judgmental about.”
His
arms held her tightly, preventing her from escaping as he said the next
words. “During that year, she was too
sick to have intercourse. But she
offered to do what you just did. I refused
to let her touch me. At the time I
thought I was somehow being gentlemanly, gallant. But now I know that I was denying her the
chance to somehow show her love for me, to give me something. It was only after she was gone that I
realized I was being selfish, selfish and afraid.”
Monica
was struggling in his arms, trying to talk, to apologize. “David, oh my god, why didn’t you say
something? I wouldn’t…”
His
fingers found her lips and covered her mouth.
He gently hushed her. “I know now
that making love is an important part of being in a marriage, that it is a way
for people to show their love. So when
you asked if I liked it, I was still dealing with a lot of stuff, guilt about
how I had refused Irene, shyness about my really wanting it, embarrassment
about my body, and most of all difficulty admitting that I really liked
it. Hell yes I liked it.”
Again
Monica tried to talk, “But…” She tried
to pull back, look in his face.
“Not
yet. I’m on a roll here. I have just a few more things to get off my
chest.” When she had settled and her
body softened against his once more, he continued, “So you see, I really don’t
know anything about making love. I think
I only saw Irene without her clothing once in the whole time we were married.” He paused and then took a deep breath; Monica
could feel him strain to say the words, “So I don’t have a clue about how to be
a good lover to you.”
He
gave her a squeeze and then pulled her up to look in her face. “And that’s about all of it. Thank you for listening. So, what was it you wanted to say?”
Monica
sat there and stared into his eyes and blinked, suddenly and completely at a
loss of words, “Um… um… I forgot.” Then
she began to giggle at the situation.
Impulsively she threw her arms around his neck and began to cover his
face with little kisses, whispering, “I love you. We will work it out.”
His
arms gathered her up and gave her a fierce hug, and he murmured in her ear,
“You are an amazing girl. I am so lucky
to have you.” He chuckled a little, “You
will have to teach me a lot.”
“As
long as we keep talking and are honest, everything will be fine. To be perfectly honest, I am not sure exactly
how this patched together body is going to work anyway. We will just have to figure that out
together.” Monica squirmed a little and
began to untangle herself from his arms, “And right now this body is saying,
must pee now!”
