Holly and I had only a few opportunities during the remainder of the week where we had enough time and privacy for sex. I was more than willing but Holly was having none of it.
"I'm not the least bit sore from Monday night, but I'm saving myself for this weekend," she declared. "You'll just have to take matters into your own hands if you can't wait," she added with an impish grin.
When we weren't together, I had plenty of time to think. I suffered under no illusions. Even though Holly was very mature for her age, I was acutely aware that she was still an eighteen-year-old girl who had just experienced sexual intercourse for the first time.
I was honored to be her first lover, but I knew it was unlikely that I would be her only lover for the remainder of her life. Any number of events could cause our paths to diverge somewhere down the line. I had no idea what our long-term future might hold, but I knew I would go with the flow and see how things worked out. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was in love with her yet, but she had gotten to me in in a big way. Falling in love with her was well within the realm of possibility.
On Thursday evening we were sitting in her porch swing. Holly was almost vibrating with anticipation of the weekend ahead of us.
"Mom is leaving right after work tomorrow. My shift ends at five, so I want you to come over as soon as you can. I'll make dinner. You're going to need lots of nourishment for what I have in mind," she informed me and then had an attack of the giggles.
"Let's cook burgers on your grill," I suggested. My work day was seven to four with an hour off for lunch. "I'll drop by the store on the way home and get everything we need. You can bag my groceries," I added with a grin.
"Good idea. While I'm bagging, you can look at me and think about what we'll be doing later in the evening."
"I don't know about you, but I'll be watching the Mets game after we eat," I said, poker-faced. "You can watch it with me if you only talk during the commercials."
Holly burst out laughing. My joke wasn't that funny, so I knew she was just releasing pent up energy. When she recovered, she pulled her usual stunt of catching me by surprise.
"How soon after you ejaculate can you do it again," she inquired, clearly serious. "I've been wondering how many times we can have sex each day."
This seemed like dangerous ground to me. I had never mentioned Alex to her and she had not asked about old girlfriends. Apparently I remained silent too long while deciding how best to answer her question.
"Well?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"About half an hour," I replied.
"Oh my! You must have made your girlfriends very happy. What's the most number of times you've had sex in one day?"
"Holly!"
"How naïve do you think I am?" she asked. "At your age, you've probably had lots of sex with lots of girls. I'm guessing that sometimes it was more than once in a single day."
"It's none of your business," I answered, starting to become a little annoyed. I wasn't about to tell her about the hookers, all of whom were one-shot deals, and I really didn't want to get into any details about my relationship with Alex.
"I'm just curious," she persisted. "Have you ever slept with a virgin before this week?"
"No."
"Good!" she exclaimed, obviously pleased. "I'm glad I was your first."
"Me too," I said, and meant it. I was also hoping we could end the conversation soon.
"Okay, so how many times in one day? I'll bet I can narrow it down. It's at least two and I'll bet my tuition money it's a lot less than ten. Let's say no more than six."
I was frantically trying to recall how many times I had fucked Alex on our best day and I knew Holly was not going to drop the subject.
"Three or four," I told her.
"So which is it? Three or four?"
Goddammit, I thought. "Four."
"Thank you. Now I know what the minimum will be."
"Holly, we're not going to have sex four times tomorrow evening. I'll do my best on Saturday but we won't have enough time on Sunday before your mom gets home," I told her, no longer annoyed and once again intrigued by her direct approach to things. "So there is no way you're going to get laid twelve times over the weekend."
"You're probably right, but it's nice to have a goal in mind," she said, smiling radiantly at me. "Besides, we only have about forty-eight hours which is technically just two full days. I'll settle for eight times."
I decided to kiss her to shut her up.
****
I arrived at the market about four-thirty the next day, grabbed a basket, and headed inside. I saw Holly but she didn't appear to notice me.
After picking up what we needed for the cookout, I went to the personal care section and, just for fun, threw three large tubes of K-Y Jelly and a three-pack of condoms in with my grocery selection. A couple of minutes later I was in her checkout line, struggling to maintain a straight face.
When it was my turn, I put everything on the conveyor belt. When the cashier, a young woman about my age, got to the condoms and lubricant she shot me a look and then glanced toward the other end of the conveyor where Holly was smiling at me and bagging the first of my purchases. Seconds later, the first tube of jelly and the pack of condoms slid down the stainless steel ramp and stopped right in front of her. Snapping her head up, she looked at me and immediately began to blush furiously while the cashier broke out into a broad grin.
I was so proud of myself I could hardly stand it. For once I had startled Holly instead of the other way around. I hoped I wouldn't pay for it later.
Holly recovered enough to finish bagging my purchases and then smile sheepishly at the cashier while refusing to make eye contact with me.
I paid with my credit card and then moved down the aisle toward Holly and my cart full of bagged items.
"Wait for me outside!" she hissed, as I took possession of the cart.
I took a seat on one of the park benches in front of the store and waited, still pleased with myself even though Holly was not be very happy with me. Five minutes later she appeared and sat down beside me.
"You devil!" she exclaimed with a smile, which told me she had recovered from her embarrassment. "The cashier is my friend Amanda. I told her about you a while ago but didn't tell her we've had sex. I saw you come into the store and pointed you out. I think she's still grinning. And stop looking so smug."
"I can't help it."
"Yeah, well, get over it. We have a big weekend ahead of us and you'll need to focus. What time are you coming over?"
"I'm going home to shower and grab some clothes. How about six o'clock."
"Skip the shower. I need one too so we can do it together and maybe even fool around a bit this time," she ordered. Our combined shower Tuesday morning was a hurried affair because I had to be at work so early.
