Mature That Summer

By Extremely Popular and Somewhat Emphatic Demand, Here Is the Companion to My Story "that Summer." This Is Not a Sequel by The Traditional Definition but There Was Some Part of My Story that Was Begging to Be Told After I Completed It. I only Ever Intended to Make It a Stand Alone Story and Honestly, I Think It Best Represented All I Wanted; the Song, a Brief but Intense Summer Romance and The Longings Left Behind.

So Thank You if You Were One Who Sent Me Positive Feedback and I Hope You Enjoy This Installment. Hopefully It Answers Any Lingering Questions You May Have Had. Though I Will Warn You Now, This Is All There Will Be to "that Summer," Any More and It Would Lose Some of Its Magic. My Apologies if You Disagree but That Is My Opinion.

Most nights I never thought about it.

It was a long time ago and it did me no good to dwell on the past. I missed him of course and I could never forget the way he made me feel when he held me in his arms. But dwelling on that and missing him didn't change the fact that I had a farm to run and a life to live.

I lived alone on the farm for months after my husband's death. Many neighbors and family members spent a lot of time "checking in" on me that first year, ensuring I was eating - as if I'd starve myself because Todd had died - and making sure I wasn't working too hard. Well, there wasn't much I could do about the work unfortunately and so I accepted much of their help with gratitude.

After that first summer alone on the Square One, I decided to start hiring help for the busy months. Family and friends had more than enough suggestions for young men and high school boys looking for work throughout the summer months. For the next five years, I hired on three or four to help me. But then the profits began to drop off and I couldn't afford to keep more than one or two. After another two years, I could barely keep a single helper on hand for three months in the summer.

It was beginning to feel hopeless at that point. How was I supposed to keep a farm running and successful if I couldn't get enough help to keep it running day to day?

The house began to suffer for the loss first; shutters falling off hinges and the porch steps creaking ominously season after season. Soon there were leaks in some spots of the roof and instead of patching them, I merely shut up the rooms and avoided them altogether. I ate little through those two years, keeping to simple fare like potatoes and salad every night, food I could make using what I grew myself.

I eventually began to sell off the stock, first some of the smaller cattle, getting some profit off their pedigrees; Square One had been known for generations as an excellent source of breeding stock. I thinned the herd down to a more manageable number and still couldn't seem to make enough.

That spring of 1976 I came to a decision; I'd have to sell the Square One. It broke my heart to let it go but without Todd around to work his magic, I was left with little choice. I could use the proceeds from the sale to get a nice place in town and do something different for a living, something I actually enjoyed. So for the last season, I decided to hire only one person to help clean up the place, do repairs and maintenance that had been so woefully neglected over the years.

While in town one day, I ran into Madeleine Harvey, a woman who'd known my mother for years. We chatted lightly on the street corner with the sun sparkling brightly over our heads. Eventually the conversation turned to the farm and I admitted sadly to the older woman that this would be my last summer there.

"Oh dear," she exclaimed, her ready smile fading from her wrinkled face. She smiled weakly and patted my arm. "Are you sure that's what you really want?"

"Whether I want it or not, I have little choice," I replied. Although touched by her sympathy, I couldn't help the twinge of annoyance I felt at her tone. Everyone I'd come across in recent weeks had given me the same reaction when told of my plans for the Square One, though not always the same exact words; "You can't sell the Jenkins farm!" or "Oh, but Todd never would never have sold the Square One." Well, Todd just wasn't around anymore was he?

"I suppose it has been difficult for you since Todd passed," Madeleine said with a nod. "If you need anything, dear, just let me know. I'm only a few miles away."

I laughed lightly and nodded. "Thank you Madeleine. Actually, if you know of anyone looking to get a job for the summer, I haven't hired anyone yet."

"You're still hiring someone for the summer?" She said, her brows drawing together in concentration. "I might know of someone. My friend Rachel, her niece has a college-age boy who's coming home for the summer apparently."

"Oh? And they live around here?"

"They're in the city," Madeleine replied. "Would you like me to have Rachel's niece call you?"

"Absolutely. You still have my number?"

"Yes, dear. I'll tell her to call you this week."

"Thank you very much, Madeleine. I'll talk to you later!" And with that, I turned around and headed for home.

Sure enough, that very weekend a woman named Janet called me. We spoke for a while, discussing many things. She'd actually grown up in the same town and we'd gone to the same schools, although she was quite a bit older than me. Still, it was nice to reminisce.

"So I understand you are looking to hire someone on for the summer?" Janet asked after some time.

"Yes, I own a farm called Square One," I explained quickly what type of farm it was and what kind of work I'd be getting my helper to do all summer.

"Well, my son Erik is just coming home from his first year of college in another week and my husband and I are trying to find something for him to do," she said.

"How old is he?" I had to ask.

"Nineteen last month," Janet told me. "He's a good boy." Something in her tone made me smile, as though she was trying to convince herself that he was as she said.

"But...?" I prompted gently, letting the question hang in the air. I'd hired on some pretty tough kids in the past years, some had just had bad attitudes but there had been a couple who'd had a brush with the law; vandalism, theft, basic teenage boy stuff that I could hardly blame them for since I'd met Todd when he'd been living through the same phase.

On the other end of the phone, Janet sighed and I could almost see her readjusting her position as we spoke.

"We made a deal with him at the beginning of his school year," she began. "We would pay for the year so long as he kept his grades up. If he couldn't, then we'd find him a job during the summer to pay for his own tuition."

"Sound fair," I put in, sipping my coffee and tapping my toe against the leg of the kitchen table.

"I thought so too," she agreed and sighed again. "But we just found out a week ago that he failed two classes."

"Oh dear."

"Yes. So we've been scrambling, trying to find him work for the summer. My husband is going to pick him up from school this weekend and we have to have something lined up or he'll just mope around all summer."

In spite of myself I chuckled. I had no wish to offend Janet by laughing, but I could just picture another teenage boy coming home to a summer of lectures and guilt from his parents.

"Well, he won't have an easy time of it here," I warned her after a moment. "Its decent pay but he'll earn every penny of it."

"Good!" She exclaimed and then laughed at herself. "Don't get me wrong, I love my son but he's had a rough year. I think it might do him some good to get out of the city and do something productive for a change."

"It'll be productive, that's for sure," I replied with a laugh of my own. Inside my head though I was listing all the things around the house and property that would need repairs before this place would be fit for sale.

Janet and I chatted for a while longer, making arrangements for her husband to drive Erik to Square One the first weekend in June. She gave me their phone number and we wished each other well for a nice summer.

The days passed by quickly and before I knew it, I had another call from Janet, informing me that her husband and son were en route to my farm. They'd be arriving in less than three hours. I thanked her and hung up the phone. I headed to the tiny room above the garage and tidied up, throwing fresh sheets on the bed and adding another heavy blanket. It could get very cold in this room at night and I didn't want to be responsible for killing the kid.

Then I headed downstairs to start something for dinner. It was already late in the afternoon and by the time they arrived, it'd be the dinner hour. So I put something together and threw it in the oven to cook. Another hour passed as I went over the accounting books for the farm in the kitchen.

At last I heard a car approaching up the long driveway. I stowed the books in a cupboard and made my way to the front of the house as a knock sounded on the front door. I walked to the door and opened it to see an older man, Janet's husband and Erik's father standing there, smiling broadly at me. I returned the smile before my eyes slid to the face of the young man standing next to him.

It shouldn't have affected me the way that it did, seeing him standing there, an astonished look on his face. Something about his expression did something to me though and I felt my heart patter wildly for an instant within my chest.

No one had looked at me like that since Todd died.

The breath caught in my throat and I was struck silent for a minute. Then I smiled widely and turned slightly towards the younger man as his father introduced us. Something his father said caused Erik to blush a deep red and exclaim sharply in retort. Hearing this and seeing his wounded expression, I immediately felt sympathy for the younger man.

Smiling again, I spoke to him, the poor dear. "Nice to meet you, Erik." I did not expect the little shiver to run up my spine as I spoke his name for the first time.

I think he mumbled something that sounded like a similar greeting but I couldn't understand around the roaring of the blood in my ears. After another few words with Erik's father and a hand shake, they walked together to stand next to the car. His father gave him what I suspected were encouraging words about how much fun he'd have this summer. When his father finally drove off and left him standing alone in my gravel driveway, I felt my heart leap into my throat.

Oh god, I thought suddenly. Am I going to have to make conversation with him now?

I stood still on the porch, unable to move. My eyes followed his movements as he slowly turned from the dusty trail left behind by his father's car. Then he walked up the porch steps and stopped in front of me, not quite looking me in the eye. I stifled a smile at his demeanor and felt immediately better about the entire situation.

At least I wasn't the only one disconcerted by our meeting. But I was the adult and so I pulled myself together, sternly but silently reprimanding my heart for its erratic behavior before turning towards the house.

"I bet you must be tired from your trip," I spoke up, breaking the silence. "Come on, I'll show you to where you'll be staying. You can rest for today and we can start in the morning."

I grabbed one of his suitcases as I spoke and turned to walk inside without waiting to hear a response. I figured he'd follow rather than risk being left outdoors all night. I smiled to myself when I heard the screen door bang shut as he entered the house behind me.

All the way through the house and up those back stairs I tried not to think about him staring at my ass. In spite of myself, I felt a flush creeping up my neck and in seconds I was overheating. I hurried up the last few steps to the little room over the garage, wanting to leave him and get a grip on myself somehow.

I explained that the room had belonged to my nephew the summer before. As I followed his gaze around the small room, I cringed inwardly, knowing how tiny it must seem to someone from the city.

"Hopefully you aren't too cramped in here," I added as an afterthought.

He still didn't say anything, his eyes roving over the sparse furnishings. Suddenly his eyes swept to my face and my breath caught in my throat. I realized then that I'd been staring and I smiled to cover my guilt.

"You don't say much, do you?" I said out loud.

He blushed that remarkable red color again and I couldn't stop the smile from spreading wider across my face. Then I laughed lightly and waved a hand at him.

I assured him that I didn't mind his shyness. I privately found it endearing and was rewarded with a tentative smile. It completely transformed his face and I nodded in satisfaction. It would be very easy to like him.

Too easy.

I informed him that dinner would be ready soon and he could join me when he was settled. Then I left the room, shutting the door firmly behind me. I stood on the landing for a minute though, breathing deeply and trying to calm the beating of my heart. In spite of my earlier reproach, the organ was trotting along at its own carefree pace, leaving me breathless in Erik's presence.

After that minute passed, I felt solid enough to descend the staircase, shaking my head as I went. He was just a boy, after all. Hardly old enough to even know about women. I smiled at the thought of him trying to speak to girls his own age and I wondered if he blushed the same way with them.

Laughing to myself as I reached the kitchen, I bustled about, convinced at last that it must have just been a momentary lapse; a touch of faintness because of the heat and humidity outside. I had been inside all day after all and the oven had been heating the house for the better part of the day with dinner tucked inside.

Reminded of the task at hand, I removed the dish and set about making a salad. By the time Erik clomped down the back stairs, I was quite in control of myself again.

That is, until he smiled that shy smile at me after I caught him staring at my ass.

This was going to be a long summer.

The first few nights with Erik in the house were pure torture. To know that a healthy young man was sleeping mere feet away from my bedroom was enough to keep me awake until the wee hours of the morning. As a result, I was less than chatty in the mornings and could only conjure enough presence of mind to give him chores around the house.

Finally on the sixth night, when I thought the loss of sleep and crazed thoughts would drive me mad, I slunk under my bedspread and squeezed my eyes shut. Then I did something I'd never done, not in all the time I'd been married, or widowed for that matter.

Slowly I slid a hand between my legs, under the cotton waistband of my panties and through the curls above my moist womanhood. I gasped as I touched myself there, surprised to find myself so wet. Even with Todd it had taken some coaxing on his part to get me this excited. Now, the mere presence of a virile young man was enough to send me careening towards this, my current state of unrest.

I moved my hand, my fingers slipping lightly over the sensitive lips. I sighed and eased one finger inside the warm hole, my mouth dropping open as I did so. Then I pulled my hand up and stroked that slightly protruding nub that used to draw so much of Todd's attention. He'd always enjoyed lying between my legs, his cheek pressed against my thigh as he lapped at me with his tongue, crooning in between motions about how sweet my clit tasted.

Moaning, I began to stroke faster, seeing instead the youthful face of my summer helper looking up at me. His eyes shone in the darkness of my room and when he smiled his sweet, shy smile, I came. I exploded, years of pent up sexual energy washing over me in seemingly unending waves.

After several minutes of stars circling my head and my rough attempts to catch my breath, I rolled over and pressed my face to the pillow beneath my head, wishing I could take back all the ungodly noises I was certain I'd just made. I couldn't help but wonder if Erik had heard any of what I'd cried out in the midst of my release. Shaking my head at my own thoughtlessness, I rolled onto my back once more and fell into a somewhat restful sleep.

In the morning I told myself that I was overreacting. Erik had been working so hard on the house over the past week that he must be sleeping like a log at night. There's no chance he'd heard me the night before. And even if he had, he wasn't forward enough to say anything about it. At the most, he'd blush and hurry outside without breakfast. The thought made me smile and I shrugged. Now that I'd got it out of my system, maybe I'd be able to sleep better at night too.

But as Erik walked down the stairs into the kitchen that morning, I knew it wasn't true. He looked just as appealing as he had before I'd made myself climax the night before.

Damnit!

So the summer wore on. I took to pleasuring myself nearly every night in an effort to erase the desire I was feeling.

It's absurd! I thought one evening as I handed him several extra blankets to ward off the chill at night. Here he is freezing his ass off every night and all I can think about is ways to keep him warm. That don't include these damn blankets.

It was all I could do not to throw myself at him whenever he walked into the kitchen for breakfast or dinner. I had to turn away half the time just so he wouldn't see my mouth gaping or hear me gasping for air. Even the fact that he refused to use my given name seemed to incite something inside of me.

I'd very nearly accosted him the day I'd wrapped his hand after a nasty cut he'd sustained while working. It had been a considerable feat of mental strength to keep from sliding into his lap and sucking on his ear lobe. That such a thought even entered into my mind shocked me. I'd turned away as soon as the bandage was tied and served him a piece of cake to cover my own discomfort.

I felt like a teenager again, not a thirty-one year old woman who owned her own farm and who'd been married once for three years. Who the hell was this kid that he could do this to me? Or was it just that he was a male and I had been without affection for so long? I couldn't figure it out and if I was being honest with myself, I didn't care.

For several weeks I simply told myself that there was nothing to be done for it, beyond what I was already doing of course. But my fingers were tired and my body ached for something more.

The weekend of July the 1st rolled around before I knew it and I spent the better part of that morning pacing in the yard near the house. There were many tasks I could be taking care of but instead I reminisced about the few summers I'd had with Todd and how we'd celebrate in town with all the other people we'd known all our lives. This wouldn't be the first summer I hadn't gone to town for the big picnic and all the games but somehow I knew my reasons for not going this year were entirely new.

My eyes scanned the horizon as the day wore on and I frowned when I saw the thunderheads forming in the distance. Sighing in resignation, I went inside to start dinner. I knew Erik would be heading in from the fields soon and I made a point of always having dinner ready promptly at six o'clock, if only so I'd know exactly when I'd see him again.

I was just removing the casserole dish from the oven when the door opened and Erik entered, in something of a hurry. The wind swept past the house outside and the door banged shut behind him. He winced and put a hand out to stop it belatedly. Smiling, I carried the casserole dish to the table.

"It's going to be bad, I think," I remarked casually as I set the dish down.

Erik nodded his agreement as he sat down across from me.

"Go ahead and help yourself, Erik," I said, gesturing at the dishes between us.

We fell mostly silent as we ate, Erik serving himself a second helping before I'd even realized he'd finished his first. It was satisfying in a way I hadn't expected to see him so obviously enjoying the meal. When at last it appeared he was slowing down, I rose from the table and began to clear the dishes, again apologizing for keeping him from the festivities in town that day.

"It's ok, Ms. Jenkins," he replied quickly and my heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice sounding out my name.

In an effort to cover my reaction, I smiled at him and told him to stop calling me that. He countered by saying it again and adding that his mother always taught him to address a lady properly.

I grinned then, feeling the familiar ache settle low in my belly when he called me a lady.

"A lady?" I repeated incredulously, unsure suddenly if he'd actually said that.

Under my gaze, he flushed an alarming shade of red and looked away. I couldn't help but laugh. It was strangely comforting to know that he was as uncomfortable around me as I was around him. Only my age and experience seemed to give me the talent and strength to disguise it more effectively.

When he didn't say anything, I spoke again. "Your parents must be really nice people. They certainly raised you right."

His response was a genuine laugh and my knees actually trembled when the deep sound reached my ears. The chair scraped the floor as he stood up and I felt him approach the sink where I stood. I looked up with a smile and felt his warm eyes slide across my face before meeting my gaze. He was saying something about his parents not agreeing with him but to this day, I can't be sure of that. All I was aware of that moment was how close he stood to me and how he smelled of the outdoors and wild grass.

I swallowed and managed to sound coherent when I spoke again. "You don't have to stick around while I do the dishes, Erik," I told him and was rewarded with another blush and bashful lowering of his eyelashes.

"I don't mind helping out, Ms. Jenkins," he murmured in a low voice and moved away from me, towards the kitchen table.

My knees just about gave out then. My temperature must have spiked suddenly and I felt light-headed. Somehow I managed to speak again and I tried to keep my voice light as I did.

"Erik, I will fire you this minute if you call me Ms. Jenkins one more time," I said, squeezing the living daylights out of the washcloth in my hand. Slowly I turned to look at him and he was gazing back at me, a surprised expression on his young face, his mouth hanging slightly open. I knew then that my voice had betrayed me and he looked as nervous and shut off from me as he had that first day.

"All right," he finally muttered, not taking his eyes from my face.

I was the first to turn away, murmuring something in response and continued to wash the dishes in the sink. When I didn't stray from my task, I heard Erik move around the kitchen, muttering something about checking the windows and doors before the storm hit. At his words, I looked up and out the window over the sink, frowning once again at the storm clouds I saw now looming much closer than before.

I couldn't help but wonder if the old house and other buildings would be able to withstand another strong storm. Those clouds and that wind were shaping into a particularly wicked tempest and I was not looking forward to the wreckage in the morning. Then I saw Erik's tall, lean form stride with purpose across the yard before the window and my breath stopped short. Cursing at myself and my troublesome desires, I hurriedly finished the dishes and bolted from the kitchen before Erik came back inside.

Upstairs in my bedroom, I paced for what felt like hours. Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind and I knew that the moment I lay in bed I'd begin touching myself again. Something inside me told me that it just wouldn't be enough. Not anymore. Not tonight.

I heard the kitchen door open with a bang and then shut again a moment later. The sound halted my frantic pacing and I listened to the sound of Erik's steps on the back stairs. Another few seconds passed and I heard his bedroom door shut.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I collapsed onto the bench at the foot of my bed and covered my face with my hands.

I had no idea what I was going to do. The summer wasn't even half gone and I was more than half-crazed. Erik was a good boy, he deserved to earn his pay this summer and finish school and go on to become a doctor or lawyer or something equally grand. He didn't need some washed up widow pining for him and lusting after his youthful body. No matter what I told myself though, I couldn't stop my heart from pounding and keeping me up late that night.

Eventually I reached a strange state of being. My mind stilled as a moment of calm in the storm reached the farm. I glanced out the window and saw the tallest trees bending in the wind and saw the occasional splatter of rain against the glass. I stood up and walked across my room, into my closet where my fingers passed over the multitude of hanging clothes.

Of their own accord, my hands pulled out a soft blue dress that I hadn't worn in ages. It was nearly threadbare and for a moment I wasn't sure why I'd held on to such an overused dress. Then the memory washed over me and I allowed myself a moment to recall the night Todd had proposed to me. Minutes after slipping the ring on my hand, he'd slid his hands up my legs under this blue skirt and taken my virginity in the sweet spring night.

One moment and then I was undressing, shedding my work clothes, leaving the jeans and plaid shirt in a pile on the floor so I could bring the soft dress down over my head. It settled in a pleasing shape around my body and I smoothed a single hand down the front before turning from the closet.

I didn't head directly into his bedroom. Instead I went downstairs to the kitchen and made a small pot of coffee. The heady aroma filled my nostrils and I breathed deeply, the caffeine fumes enough to give me the last of the courage I was seeking.

The storm breathed new life against the house, rattling the window panes and sending a shiver down my spine as I filled two porcelain mugs with the steaming coffee. As I walked slowly up those back stairs, I heard with perfect clarity the wind howling against the outer walls of the house. My heart pounded in unison with the gusts as they swept dirt and leaves against the siding and my breathing caught in my throat yet again as a resounding boom of thunder split my ear drums.

So it was with a strange buzzing in my ears that I paused at the landing before Erik's door, two cups of coffee in my hands. Drawing in a deep breath, I stepped closer and tapped gently on the rough wooden door.

For a moment I thought he might be sleeping. Then I knocked again, determined to resolve this. After a third knock, I heard him stirring beyond the door and I held my breath in silence until he opened the door, standing shirtless before me.

Focus on his face, I told myself and allowed myself to smile anyway, my mind already turning over the possibilities his bare chest presented me with.

"Did I wake you?" I whispered, grateful that it didn't squeak with apprehension. Seeing the expression on his face made me pause, wondering if I was wrong about coming to his room.

Slowly he shook his head in response to my question and I breathed a sigh of relief, uncertain if I even spoke out loud. His eyes slipped from mine to rest on my hands and the two curls of steam rising over the mugs. He asked if one of those was for him, his voice deep and sure and I smiled, handing one over. Then I took the plunge.

"May I come in?" I asked and without waiting for him to reject me, I swept past him into the room. I felt a moment of awkwardness, standing in the middle of his space before I crossed to the lone rocking chair on one side and sitting down. I looked up at Erik, still standing near the doorway, the mug of coffee looking tiny in his large hands. I made up a reason for showing up at this ungodly hour outside his bedroom and I hoped as I spoke about what happened in the kitchen earlier that he couldn't tell I was lying.

But then a funny thing happened. I realized I meant what I was saying to him; about our dinners together and how much I wanted him to enjoy his time at Square One. After all, it was only the summer and he didn't have much more to endure. Then he spoke, more words than he had since I'd arrived at his bedroom door and the strength of his tone stopped me short.

"What?"

"It's not long at all," he said, flushing now and looking down at the coffee mug in his hand.

Something about his tone got to me and I studied his face carefully. Was I imagining things?

"Um, I mean, it doesn't seem like a long time. Like, I haven't been here a long time either," he was stammering and it was so endearing I almost laughed. I tried to actually listen to his words though, turning my focus from his delightful mouth to his eyes. Not that that helped much; his eyes were so dark in that dim bedroom with the single bedside lamp that it was suddenly difficult to breathe.

"No?" I managed to respond to his words, smiling as I did so.

"Well, no. No, it doesn't feel like it's been all that long," he continued. "And two months doesn't seem long enough-" Suddenly he stopped and this time before he dropped his eyes, I saw what I needed to see there.

My heart slowed almost to stopping and I dimly heard him apologize. But I was already moving.

"For what?" I asked, slipping from the creaking rocking chair, leaving my mug on the floor next to it.

"For..." he started but stopped shortly after, shaking his head and flushing an even deeper shade of red.

Then I was on the bed next to him and I could feel the heat rising from his broad shoulders in waves. I breathed it in, soaking up his masculine scent as I shifted closer.

"Don't be sorry, Erik." Please, please don't be sorry.

He looked at me and I looked at him. I felt him breathing and knew he was breathing me in as well. I heard a roaring in my ears as I reached for his hands, gently slipping the mug of coffee from his grasp. I was speaking, saying something about what he'd wanted to say before he'd cut himself off; something about not having enough time to really get to know each other. I wasn't entirely sure of my words, instead watching his face.

He didn't look frightened or disgusted and that was a very good start. It was all I'd needed really. Any resistance and I would have fled his room in an instant, knowing that I'd been wrong about all his looks and words before this moment.

"Well," I heard the words as if they were being spoken by someone outside this moment, someone detached and observant. "Let's not waste any more time." Somehow my hand had risen to his face and I gently stroked his cheek as a clap of thunder split the stillness.

Before my courage abandoned me, I leaned forward, my eyelids falling shut as I kissed him, just pressing my lips against his. I breathed his breath and tilted my head just slightly, my lips sliding gently over his.

A moment passed before I realized he wasn't touching me and wasn't kissing me back. I drew back with a small frown and looked up at him in concern. Had I been wrong?

"Erik?" I whispered, apprehension flooding me suddenly.

"Wh-what...what are you doing?" He asked, his face still flushed and his body tense.

But I heard it in his voice. He was just young and didn't know how to express himself well enough yet.

"Getting to know you better," I responded simply and leaned forward to capture his lips with my own again.

He breathed my name as our lips met and I felt all my desire speed through my body before exploding in heated wetness between my legs. I held on to him for dear life, clutching his shoulders, my fingers digging into his warm flesh. I pulled him closer, sliding against him as I did so. He broke the kiss suddenly, pulling back and looking deeply into my eyes.

Not speaking, he just stared at me, his eyes moving across my face and down to my open mouth. I realized then I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling rapidly. For a split second I thought I'd frightened him but then his hand lifted from the bed to settle on my waist.

At his touch, my mouth fell open further and I leaned forward. Then his other hand rose to my neck and I sighed, shutting my eyes and tipping my head to feel the warmth of his hand against my cheek.

"Alice," he murmured and I barely heard him around the wailing storm outside and the roiling desire in my body.

"What?"

"I don't...I, uh, I mean, I'm not...I don't know..." he was stuttering again and his voice was trembling.

Reluctantly I opened my eyes and smiled, trying to find some way of soothing him, of assuring him that he was doing nothing wrong; that we were doing nothing wrong. My words came out simply enough, "Erik, its ok," but he shook his head, still uncertain.

"But I've never-" he began to protest again but I trapped any further words with my fingers, stopping him from speaking and talking us both out of this.

"That's all right," I whispered and kissed him again.

With this kiss, I felt him let go. He ceased to be nervous and grasped me tightly, his strong hands closing on my body and sending a thrill through me. I put my arms up around his shoulders and pulled him tightly against me. I pressed my tongue inside his mouth, knowing he wouldn't be the first one to do it and I was astounded when he engaged me, pressing back with his own tongue.

I began to feel light-headed, my chest constricting and I broke away, gasping for air. I smiled up at him and slowly moved my hands from his shoulders, over his chest and down to the waistband of his pants. I heard his sharp intake of breath and reveled in my power over him. Then I slowly slid my fingers beneath the elastic waist of his pants and searched for what he had to offer.

When I encountered his erection, I was pleasantly surprised yet again. I was not sure if I said anything out loud but from his responding grin, I must have done or said something right. Looking into his eyes, I grinned too and leaned away to turn off the bedside lamp. Turning back to him, I practically crawled into his lap and was relieved to feel his arms circle me, drawing me closer. I lifted my face for another kiss and moaned, softening against him, feeling the heat rushing just beneath my skin.

God, but I just wanted to get closer to him. His mouth devoured mine and his tongue glided ruthlessly in and out, back and forth, drawing another strangled sound from me. I groped his body, searching for his hands. I took hold of his left hand, bringing it immediately to my thigh. I wanted to feel his hands on me, moving on my skin and he obliged, squeezing my thigh as I planted kisses along his jaw and down to his neck.

He tasted so amazing, the sweat on his skin giving him such a tangy flavor, I felt I could drink nothing but him for days. The muscles and tendons in his neck and shoulders were tense and slid underneath his skin as his hand moved higher up my leg, moving the flimsy dress aside. I withdrew my hand, needing to hold myself up by grasping his shoulders. As I did that, I felt his hand touch my panties and I gasped, feeling fresh moisture settle between my legs.

"Alice," he murmured and I bit my lower lip at the deep sound of his voice saying my name. It was the most erotic thing I'd heard in years.

I turned my head to his, seeking his soft lips yet again. He kissed me back, his tongue delving into my mouth without any hesitation this time. His kisses were heady and I slid from his arms, lying back on the bed. I didn't want to stop kissing him but there were certainly many other things I wanted to do with him that night.

"Come here, Erik," I ordered softly, waggling a finger at him in what I hoped was a sexy gesture. It had been so long, I didn't know if I could still pull off sexy.

He leaned over me and I reached for him, putting my hands on his broad shoulders and caressing the strong muscles there. He had unquestionably developed some definition and I loved the feeling of his youth hovering above me. I met his eyes and blushed inexplicably. There was such an expression of intensity in his dark eyes that it made me shiver.

"Erik, are you just going to stare at me all night?" I asked, feeling my cheeks burning as another bolt of lightning split the night sky outside the window. As I spoke, I ran my hands from his shoulders and over his chest, grazing his nipples as I went, delighted when I felt them harden to my touch.

"I just don't want to rush anything," he replied softly. "I don't want to forget this moment."

I felt tears burn the backs of my eyelids at his words and understood at last that this was his first time. That he was willing to do this with me made me feel so...I didn't know. There were no words.

"Oh Erik," I whispered and pulled him down to me, kissing his lips hungrily. He pulled back though and I laughed. "It's ok, Erik. You're not too heavy. I want to feel you on top of me." I moved my hand down as I said this, grasping his heavy erection through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. I looked up at him through my eyelashes and grinned. "I want to feel every bit of you, Erik."

The tendons in his neck stood out in bold relief and I bit my lower lip, stroking him slowly. To know that in a few moments, this part of his anatomy would be just where I needed it, I felt my desire renew itself.

"Undress me," I ordered, not meaning to sound harsh but he didn't seem to mind.

Grasping the bottom of my dress, he pulled upwards, his breathing coming short and heavy as well. I moved for him, allowing the dress to slide all the way up and over my head. As he tossed it aside, I held my arms out for him and moaned happily when I felt his weight sink on to me. I lifted my hips as his lips descended on my mouth again. Through the cotton layer of my panties I could feel the massive heat of his cock and I shifted again, sliding against him.

He broke the kiss, gasping and I grinned, telling him that I wanted him. He repeated my words back to me and I moved my hands down, pushing at the waist of his pants. I ordered him to take them off and laughed out loud when he obeyed so swiftly, I wasn't entirely certain how he'd managed it without falling off the bed. Then I took in the uncensored sight of his straight, hard erection and felt my heart slow to a dangerous speed.

"No underwear," I whispered, reaching out and touching him.

I started at his chest before sliding to his waist, rubbing my thumbs through the coarse hair of his body before moving closer to the prize at the center of him. I encircled his flesh and sighed contentedly to feel the weight of a man in my hand once more. He spoke my name, the sound of his voice strained and I smiled as I stroked him, slowly from base to tip.

"What is it, Erik?" I managed to ask as I explored his impressive member, gently rubbing the head with my palm.

When he asked me what to do, I stopped with a light laugh. I guided his hand to my side again, teasingly explaining that I needed to remove my panties first. He obliged, sliding them slowly over my legs and tossing them down with our other discarded clothing. He lay back down next to me and stroked my hip and up to my breast, cupping it delicately.

"Yes, that feels wonderful," I whispered, my head falling back against the pillows. He continued to explore me as I had done to him and I let him, smiling and moaning when I felt my nipples harden almost painfully.

"Can I...?" His hesitant voice broke into my pleasing reverie and I drew my eyes back to his face. When he didn't continue, I thought something had suddenly changed his mind but then he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving my face. As he enclosed his lips on one nipple, I moaned and clutched his head to my chest.​