Getting Down at Brown

I took a few steps into the room, and I guess that I must've had a slack-jawed look on my face. In the background, I could hear the cheering of some of the other students on the floor; obviously, they knew what Sheila had done. "You two have fun" was the last thing I heard, before someone pulled the dorm room door closed.

I'd stopped short, so my roommate took a couple of steps to come over to me, reaching up, putting her arms around my neck, and pulling me down into a long, soft kiss. When we finally came up for air, I managed to get out, "Does this mean . . .?" but I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Yes, it means exactly that, it means you're going to hold me, every night, and we're going to make love, we're going to make love right now." I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful smile on Sheila's face.

"And I see that was on your mind, too, considering what you bought." I had a bag from the convenience store, with a box of condoms inside. She pulled it out, and giggled, "Looks like you were planning on a

lot

more than once," since I'd gotten the 24-count box. "I thought that you might, but just to be certain, I bought some myself," and then she pointed to the package on her desk that I hadn't noticed before.

With that, Sheila started pulling my jacket off my shoulders. I'd been so completely surprised that I hadn't even realized that yes, I was supposed to undress her, too. Then, after she got my jacket off of me, I figured out what I was supposed to do, and put my hands on the hem of her sweater. She just smiled at me, and then raised her arms above her head, a silent signal for me to pull her sweater off of her. The t-shirt she had on underneath the sweater came with it, and she was standing there, giving me permission with her lips and her smile and her eyes.

Next, she started unbuttoning my flannel shirt. It was the middle of February, and cold and just generally nasty outside, so I had been bundled up. That Sheila had been fairly heavily dressed wasn't any surprise; that was normal for her in cold weather. For a moment, I wondered why, since she'd obviously planned this, she wasn't in some sort of lingerie, but quickly realized, that wasn't really her, wasn't her personality or wardrobe. She wanted to make love with me, but there was no fakery, no pretentiousness, she was just being herself, and that was all I ever wanted.

I'll admit it: I was clumsy as heck. I knew, intellectually, what I was supposed to do, but this was my first time, first time ever. After she pulled my flannel shirt off of me, I reached around, and tried to unhook her bra, but it was like it was soldered together. She kept smiling at me, and then said, "Here, let me do it," before reaching around behind herself, and unhooking it in one quick motion.

How the heck do bra manufacturers make things that only women can unfasten?

Sheila wasn't wearing shoes, just socks, but I still had my winter hiking boots on, double-knotted as always, and I realized that she'd have as much trouble with them as I had with that infernal bra of hers. I was just so elated that she could see, from my expression, that I wasn't pulling away at all when I sat down on the bed to untie and pull off my boots, and, with that, she finished undressing herself.

I'd seen my share of porn - and maybe a couple other guys' shares as well! - so I knew what a nude woman (supposedly) looks like, but the sight of Sheila, a real woman, absolutely destroyed all of the images I'd seen of other women on the computer screen. Yeah, I had a really good monitor, but on my roommate, I could see the imperfections, the hair, all of the little things that differentiate a real woman from porn models.

And her scent! The only thing I had ever smelled while looking at porn was the Lay's Salt and Vinegar potato chips on my computer desk. But Sheila was alive, a living woman, hitting all of my senses. Seeing her, sitting beside me now, pulling off her socks and her jeans, all the time with her eyes fixed on me, her smile beaming, was intoxicating. That last moment, as she raised up a bit to pull off her panties, was like heaven to me.

In all of this, I'd never have guessed, we kept looking at each other's eyes. Oh, sure, I had to look at her body, a real woman's body as I had never seen before, but always it was a glance, always I had to return my gaze to her wonderful eyes.

Sheila's eyes! They were this hard to describe hazel, sometimes more brown than green, and sometimes more green than brown, eyes that can look into your soul, but, oh my God, eyes that just captivated me, eyes that smiled with her.

Her lips! They were soft, without lipstick, tender and just drew me in to kiss her. I could kiss her forever. The touch of her lips on mine, on my cheek, on my neck and my chest, pulled me in so deeply to her. This was a feeling I'd never had, something so far away from porn, something completely alien to my knowledge and even my imagination.

Her touch, her fingertips on my cheek and my shoulders, teasing, caressing, both hard and soft, gently pulling me in, stoking the fires within me.

How long we sat there, naked, but still side by side, just exploring each other with our touch, I couldn't tell you, was it minutes or was it years. Her fingertips, sliding down my neck, into the notch of my collar bones, like nothing I'd ever known before. Finally, as my fingers worked their way down, between her breasts, toward her belly, she laid back on the bed, not completely down, but propped up on her elbows, and my fingers slid further down, over her hip bones, then slightly down her thighs, still so afraid to move toward the center. Finally, achingly slow, I touched her pubic hair, surprised by how soft it was, compared to my own coarse thatch.

I knew what I wanted to do, thanks to a solid porn education, and I slid off the edge of the bed, to kneel between her legs. Sheila was - I thought - a virgin, as I was, but at least she understood what was coming next, enough to allow me to go forward, as I kissed her pubic hair, lightly at first, before I realized that I had to part her soft hair with my fingers and my tongue.

The scent of her passion was almost overwhelming, like nothing I had ever imagined, and her taste, as I gently licked her womanhood, was a revelation. I used my tongue, but she was as soaking wet as I could ever have imagined. I kept shifting the angle of my neck, to pleasure her, but also to look at her face, to see my lover as I had never seen her before.

It wasn't long before she shifted position a bit, to get off her right elbow and put her hand on my head, to caress me, to encourage me, to show me how much she was enjoying this. I had been so worried that I wouldn't last long enough to please her this first time, and I was determined to make her come with my mouth first, but I didn't have to worry: somehow, whether it was because I was doing things right or because she was so very ready, I could feel the continual changes in tension in her legs, could hear the urgency in her breath, and I thought, this must be it, she must be approaching orgasm, and quickly.

Sheila uttered no words, only moans, and not-so-stifled cries to let me know when she went over the edge. She sat back up, her arms cradling my head, as she pulled herself away from the stimulation of my tongue, giving herself a break, I supposed. Then came the words I longed to hear from her, as she said, "I love you, Max," over and over and over again.

With that, she laid back down, then rolled onto her side for a second, to reach for one of the condom packages on the edge of her desk. She tore it open for me, smiling all the while, and then handed me the rubber.

I knew that they were supposed to be rolled on, and thank the Lord, it was easy enough to see how even for a nerd like me. I was able to roll it on quickly, and my lover was ready, on her back, her legs open, and her arms gently tugging on my shoulders, to urge me into position, to urge me to make love to her.

Intellectually, I knew what was supposed to happen, and I knew that this first time for her would probably hurt. I entered her as steadily as I could - and yes, my knees were trembling! - and then encountered the resistance of her hymen. I could see her tense up as the pressure built, but her eyes were on mine, and she encourage me, almost in a whisper, "Go ahead, you have to do it."

I hated hurting her, but she was right: to truly be lovers, this had to be done. I pushed ahead again, and saw the wince on her face, but then the resistance broke, and I was fully inside her.

She was hurting, I could tell, and I was so reluctant to keep going, to keep hurting her. She knew what I was feeling, and kept whispering, kept urging me to make love to her.

I don't know, was it the 'training' I had done at MaryEllen's suggestion, or was it the pain in my mind at the physical pain I had caused Sheila, but somehow, despite my worries, I didn't come right away. I managed to move slowly enough, to keep from hurting my lover, that I was able to set a pace I thought I could maintain for a few minutes.

But a few minutes would be all that I could hold back, because the look of pain vanished from Sheila's face, slowly being replaced by a look of overwhelming happiness. All of the sex I had seen on my computer screen never prepared me for the reality of making love, and as her smile returned, as her eyes gazed into mine, I could feel the tension in my own body, a tension I tried desperately to hold back.

I was succeeding, but then I could see it in Sheila's eyes: it was building within her as well. I had to last, I just had to, until she came again, and thank the Lord, it built up in her quickly, and suddenly she tensed up, her arms, her legs, the look on her face, coming just as I could no longer hold myself back.

It was wonderful, the sensation of seeing my lover pleased, of hearing her cries, just as I emptied myself into her. It was like nothing I could ever have imagined, as I released the tension in my arms, as I had been holding myself up, to come closer and cover her face with kisses.

Finally, we came apart, leaving the after-sex duty of disposing of the used condom. She kind of giggled as I pulled it off of me and tossed it in the waste can. We looked at each other, smiling, lightly touching, and I just had to tell her, "I love you, Sheila."

For an instant, my mind was in turmoil. She had said that she loved me, but it was in the throes of orgasm. Then, everything was made perfect as she told me again, "I love you, Max," calmly, knowingly, with the most wonderful look on her face, the slightest caress on my arm.

This was just so fantastic. In all of the years I had dreamed about having sex, I always thought about the 'act' itself. But the act was over, and now it was just the wonderful time after, when lovers can be so happy with each other, when they are so overjoyed not with what they have felt themselves, but what they gave to each other. We laughed, we talked, we gently caressed each other, and then ever-neat Sheila finally said, "It's a good thing I got two sets of sheets," laughing at the blood stains on the ones we had just used. "Let me go clean up a bit."

My girlfriend disappeared into the bathroom, and I could hear the sink running and then the commode flush, before she came back out, still wonderfully naked. Then it was my turn, and I took care of business as well. When I came back out, Sheila was stripping the bed, not only of the sheets, but of the hospital 'chux' she had put under the sheets, to absorb any blood that leaked through. The chux went into a garbage bag, and then she took the sheets into the bathroom, to wash out the blood before the sheets were permanently stained.

In a way, that was weird, but in another, it was comforting, the old Sheila, calm and rational, taking care of business, casually. Still, businesslike or otherwise, she kept glancing my way, always smiling. "The other set of sheets is on top of my dresser, if you could put those on for us," she told me, as matter-of-factly as she had ever been.

After I had done that, and she'd washed out the sheets, we came together again, still naked, for a kiss. It wasn't a hard, passionate one, but soft, with our lips barely parting, Sheila gently pulling my lower lip into her mouth. "I'm starving," she whispered to me, "let's go get something to eat."

I glanced at the clock; it was right at 6:00 PM. I had gotten back to the dorm around 4:30, so that gave me a clue as to how long we had been making love. Oh, sure, the last fifteen or twenty minutes had been spent cleaning up, but we'd taken at least an hour, pleasing each other, when I had been worried that it'd last three minutes!

We'd always gotten dressed separately before, but now, just as normal as could be, we dressed again in front of each other. Sheila got fresh panties for herself, and I got a clean pair of briefs, but other than that, we dressed in the same clothes we'd had on before. Sheila gave me a teasing look - how does she know how to do that? - and then pulled on her t-shirt and sweater without bothering with her bra. In that heavy sweater, no one could tell, but it was a secret between us.

Around 6:15, we opened the door, and headed on out. The people in the hallway - and there were more than usual - favored us with smiled and thumbs up signs, as they'd obviously known what Sheila had planned for this afternoon. "I couldn't move that heavy bed by myself, so I got Jeff and Manny to do it for me. Of course, they told everybody on the floor, and Liz helped me put the king-size sheet on the combo bed. Liz knew it would be our first times, and naturally she had to spread the word. Do you mind?"

"I don't know, maybe I should mind, but I really don't. I can't be upset by anything that's happened between us now."

"You do know that the girls are going to be hammering me with questions about this, don't you?"

"What, aren't they all serious Ivy Leaguers, focused intensely on their future careers?" I mocked.

"Oh, dear," she teased me back, "I have a boyfriend who's on some serious drugs."

We got to the cafeteria, and our talk was mostly casual, almost like nothing had changed, but there was still a subtle undercurrent; nothing had changed, but everything had changed. On the way back, Sheila put it into words. "You know what's great? We're lovers now, but we're still friends."

"That was what was worrying me the most. I was just deathly afraid of letting you know how I felt, because I was afraid that it might end us being friends."

"OK, then, that means you've had feelings about me for a while now. Since when?"

Oh, boy, that was a tough question! "It's been a while now, since before Christmas."

"You know, I kind of suspected, with that necklace you gave me, but I wasn't sure at all. It was the evening that you did my nails that I was convinced. You do know that first evening back, when I changed my shirt in front of you, that was a deliberate test, don't you?"

"Oh, God, I thought so, but then when you apologized for it, you looked like it was just a complete casual accident, and I wasn't sure."

"You know, if you hadn't had such a shocked look on your face, and sputtered that it was OK, I might have been sure then. We could have started this a month ago!"

"Well, I hate that we missed a month, but, you know what? This was worth waiting for." With that, Sheila threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.

We got back to the room, and I asked my roomie if there was anything special she wanted to do tonight, but I already knew the answer. "Well," she said, trying to look coy, but still glancing to the bed.

Of course, students at Brown get loaded up with homework, and we both had stuff that needed to get done. But now, this meant sitting side-by-side in bed, reading. The tension was gone, but that had been replaced by a casual sexiness, one that left me, at least, not getting as much out of my reading as I should have.

Finally, around 9:30, we were both ready to call it quits on homework, and more than ready to cuddle up in bed. I went to the bathroom first, and brushed my teeth and Scoped thoroughly. This time, Sheila came into the bathroom as I was brushing my teeth, and whispered, "You better not be thinking of wearing those pajamas tonight."

Of course, I hadn't been, and when she emerged, she was naked as well. She slid into bed beside me, putting her head on my shoulder and playing a bit with my chest, coupled with occasional kisses. We weren't so needy this time, but we were both soon ready. "My turn to get on top," she whispered to me, after handing me a condom.

This was very slow and easy, with Sheila setting the pace. The only light in the room was the green from her alarm clock, and I could just barely see her, as she rode me slowly. Her breathing, getting ever-more ragged, was all that I could hear from her, but I knew what it meant, and it's a good thing that I had cum just a few hours ago, or it would have been a real struggle to hold off. Then, when I could tell she was about to climax, I stopped trying to hold back, and had my release only half a minute after she had hers.

The 'afterglow' was punctuated by mutual "I love yous" back and forth, before I finally whispered to her, "This was meant to be."