Getting Down At Brown Ch 04

Sunday, April 2, 2017

Mrs St Croix drove us back to the dorm. After the dreary weather on Cliff Island for our Spring Break, it was really nice in Providence, 60º and mostly sunny. I, for one, was looking forward to getting rid of sweatshirts and boots. It did set me to thinking: just how did Sheila dress in warmer weather?

It was already November when I switched dorm rooms with MaryEllen, her original roommate, and it was rainy and raw and miserable, meaning that Sheila's every day wardrobe was a heavy pullover sweater. Once we finally became romantically involved, I'd occasionally sneak my hands inside her sweater when we'd hug, which more often than not generated a shriek of "Your hands are like cubes!" meaning ice cubes.

My girlfriend dressed for comfort and practicality, had ever since I've known her. She had a couple of 'dressy' outfits, but they were there just in case she needed them, not because she wanted to wear them. She's worn one of them, a nice blouse and slacks, on our first actual date, to the Valentine's dance, and actually wore heels, but there were no skirts or dresses in her wardrobe.

At least, in her wardrobe at Brown. If I'd been more of a snoop, I'd have looked in her closet at home, but I didn't think of it. I'd like to think that I wouldn't have snooped anyway, if I'd thought of it, but wasn't faced with that moral dilemma.

Despite the constantly dreary weather on Cliff Island, Spring Break was fun. I thought that I had struck up a pretty good relationship with her family, even her two brothers who showed up mid-week, probably to check up on the guy who had defiled their sister. My relationship with her family was just casual, as though it was accepted that I belonged with Sheila, and that was fine with me.

Of course, Spring Break was

really

fun in bed! Sheila had let it be known, from the beginning, that yes, I was sleeping with her, in her room, and whether she actually had to put her foot down about that, or if her family wouldn't have thought twice about it, I don't know. In a way, I thought that us sleeping together there brought me closer to her family, in the way I was accepted, more than if I was the boyfriend sleeping in the guest room. We made love every night, and a couple of mornings as well, and Sheila surprised me with one outrageous out-and-out screaming fuck out by the bay.

Sheila's room was just wonderful, with a tremendous view of Casco Bay, and the fireplace that made the room totally romantic. I guess that her parents realized that we were using that fireplace for the romantic setting, because I was quick to volunteer for firewood duty. There was a covered firewood shed on the property, probably three-quarters empty at the end of the winter, but Mr St Croix told me that there were still about two cords of wood left in there. Whenever a fire had been going, I replenished both the wood and the kindling from the stockpile, and I cleaned up the ashes from the grates.

I ditched my sweatshirt and boots in the dorm, after Mrs St Croix headed back to Maine, opting for tennis shoes and, of all things, a Villanova University t-shirt that William Jr, one of Sheila's brothers, had given me. He was in law school there, and depressed that Villanova, the defending national champions and a number one seed in the NCAA Tournament, had lost in the second round. Being so warm out, Sheila went ahead and pulled off her heavy sweater and t-shirt, and then I had to give a fake pout look when she put on a bra.

"Listen, buddy, I was OK going braless for you under that sweater, but under thinner stuff, I'm not going to show off for the whole campus." I knew better than to argue with her on that. Still, she looked good to me when she picked out a fairly simple button-down blouse, more of a menswear material shirt than anything else, but which was nicely fitted for her. She took off her boots as well, and surprised me by getting out a pair of flip-flops that I didn't even know she had. It took me back to that evening when we had our first tiny bit of intimacy, when I painted her toenails for her. Thinking about that, I wonder if maybe that was a 'move' on her part, because she hadn't worn nail polish since then.

Actually, Sheila was about the most practical dresser around. She wore the necklace and earrings I had bought for her, but I never saw her with any other jewelry, and never, not even once, did I see her with any makeup. The closest thing to that was the chap stick she used when the raw weather dried out her lips. And even though she now had a boyfriend, she never went out and bought lingerie; wearing the same plain cotton panties and bras she always had. Really, she was anything but a show-off girlfriend, the kind of girlfriend guys like to be seen with, but while that kind of thing might have mattered to me before I had a girlfriend, somehow it didn't now.

And the truth is, she did show-off for me, in the only real way that mattered: she liked holding hands with me.

I raised another subject. "You know, after spending a whole week with your folks, my parents are going to want some time to meet you."

"Yeah, I know, and do you know that scares me to death?"

"Huh, why? I promise, they aren't serial killers."

"That you know of, hel

lo!"

I laughed at that.

"You do realize that I was scared of meeting your parents, right? I still did it."

"Only so you wouldn't miss a week of sex," I got teased.

"What, you want me to tell my mom that the only way you'll meet them is if you get to ravish me in my bedroom?"

I was teasing, but I got a very serious answer. "Yeah, I do want to know how they're going to react to some slut from stealing their only son away from them."

"Slut?" I busted out laughing at that one, but Sheila was serious.

"OK, look, my mom wasn't concerned with you being my first lover, but she was

very

concerned about how many girls you'd slept with. She was really relieved when I told her I was your first. She had some idea that you'd run through half the girls on campus first, I guess she thinks that all guys want to do that, and she wanted to protect me."

"I can understand that. I don't know that I want to volunteer that we were each other's first to my folks, just because that's none of their business, but if my mom asks, I'll tell her the truth."

"Well, just so you know, my mom is pressuring me."

"What, to get married? I thought you didn't want to discuss that yet."

"I don't! It's way too soon, and I told my mom that, but when she gets her mind on something, she doesn't shut up. And I'm just betting that your parents are going to put pressure on us, too."

"Look, Sheila, I'm ready to discuss that anytime you are, but I won't push you and I won't let my folks push you."

I knew that it was time to drop the subject. Yeah, I wanted to talk about marriage, but my girlfriend absolutely did not. Still, meeting my folks did have to get done, so I forged on. "There aren't any more long breaks before the semester is over, but Good Friday is coming up in a couple weeks, and professors half expect students to miss class that day. I bet I could get my mom to come get us Friday, and bring us back late on Easter Sunday."

"I guess the timing works, but how religious are your folks? It was one thing for my parents to accept us sleeping together, but over Easter weekend?"

"Well, they go to church most Sundays, and I'm sure that they'll go on Easter. Our house does have a guest bedroom, but I'll just take our bags right to my room, and even if they want to say something, they won't."

"Their church going to fall in on me if I don't have an Easter Sunday dress? I can wear something nice, but it'll have to be slacks."

"Yeah, you'll be fine. But mom is big on everybody singing the hymns, so you'll have to do that."

"Oh, go ahead and call them, and get it over with. But you do know that I'll be a nervous wreck for the next two weeks, don't you?"

"Anything I can do to relieve you of that tension?" I volunteered, hopefully.

My parents were really pleased with the Easter weekend suggestion, and mom said that she'd be down early Good Friday morning to get us; she wanted as much time as possible to spend to get to know my girlfriend. After all, I'd never brought home a girl before, and heck, they'd never even seen me with a girl. They were just as aware of my shyness around girls as I was, and I know that it worried them.

Thing is, as painfully awkward as I had been around girls before, I was finally losing that, now that I was with Sheila. I don't know, maybe it was because the pressure of having to find a girlfriend was gone, but somehow, everything was changing. I could speak to other girls without getting tongue-tied, and I was feeling more confident about myself in general. One day, I actually had a girl flirting with me -- at least, I thought she was flirting -- something that would have amazed me before, though before I'd have probably fumbled the opportunity. It sure helped my ego, but even more, the idea that I could, and did, pass on the opportunity was another confidence booster.

Of course, the girl who flirted with me was a bit less obvious than Madelyn had been, but I didn't have any reason to kick myself for turning her down.

Then, another time, Liz got a little bit handsy when I was helping her through some equations for her chemistry lab. As a math major, I got called on a lot in the dorm when people had math problems, but none of the girls ever came close to flirting with me before.

It was Wednesday, April the 12th, two days before my mom was supposed to pick us up, and Sheila was a bit later than usual getting back to the room after class. Normally, we had a couple of hours between the end of class and heading out to dinner, but she hadn't shown up. I thought about texting her, but then she's got an independent streak to her, and it might have looked too much like I was checking up on her. Finally, just before five, she walked in, and asked, "Do you like it?"

Holy crap! This was a whole different Sheila! She'd gotten her hair cut, cut really short, as in boy cut short, as short as mine on the sides, and just long enough on the top to lay down with some style. She was wearing some new earrings, turquoise and the same silver as the necklace I had bought her, dangly ones that came almost to her shoulders. She'd bought a new shirt, a crisp looking white that was very well fitted, some new jeans, and some new sandals.

"Do I like it? Like, wow, you look so sophisticated. Yeah, I like it."

"Thank God! I was worried that you wouldn't, but I was so worried about meeting your folks, and I just wanted to look good for that."

"If you're wearing sandals, does that mean I have to paint your toenails again?" I asked, thinking about the first time I did that, and how nicely that turned out. "But you don't have to worry about my parents; I know that they'll like you."

The more I looked at Sheila, the more I liked the new look. She wanted to wait until Thursday night, just before mom got here, to paint her nails, but the new look got my motor running, and I started thinking back to the time outside, by the blue frame house. There weren't any private spots outside in Providence, at least none I knew of, but remembering taking Sheila from behind, while she knelt on that rock, was a total turn-on.

We'd only done doggy a couple of times. We liked being able to look at each other, but I was so turned on that I was more aggressive than usual. I liked eating pussy, and after bringing her to a pretty strong climax that way, I grabbed her hips and just rolled her over. I'd never done that before, and she was startled, but not startled enough to ruin the mood. When I pulled her up, into an all fours position, she looked back over her shoulder at me, and had a wicked smile on her face.

Well, that was all the encouragement I needed, and I got behind her and guided myself inside her, all the way, one smooth stroke. With my hands on her hips, I started just plain fucking her, hard and fast. It was a good thing that she was so turned on, and she started climaxing again, because I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to last like this. We'd made love last night, so there was no urgency in that, but I was rocking fast and hard, in a way I'm not used to. After her first orgasm, I could feel mine building up in me, quickly, and just barely managed to hold back when I saw another one building up in her. As soon as she started coming, I stopped holding back, and spent myself inside her.

"Holy crap, Max," she started laughing, as we both collapsed onto the bed. "Do I get that every time I get my hair cut?"

"Call it an SOF."

"SOF? What's that?"

"Special Occasion Fuck." We both laughed at that one.

Thursday night was back to our more typical, slow lovemaking . . . after I painted her nails again. I just know that the guys would give me a ration of shit if they found out I did that for her, but they might not laugh quite as much if they knew the rewards I got for doing it.

Then I realized: all of those alpha dogs I used to envy? I was getting laid more often than any of them. Even Jeff, who had MaryEllen as a roommate, had complained that they only had sex around three times a week. With us, other than during her period, it was every night, and a few mornings as well.

Mom called Friday morning, said that she'd gotten a slightly late start, and ought to get here around ten AM. Since we already had everything packed, we decided not to blow off our eight and nine o'clock classes. I got back to the dorm around 10:10, ahead of Sheila -- her classes were farther away -- and that was just as my mom arrived. We got up to the room, and when mom saw how the beds had been rearranged, she gave me a strange look, even though she already knew that we were roommates. We hadn't made the bed that morning -- bad move on our part! -- so the rumpled sheets were giving silent testimony to the fact that we didn't just sleep in that bed.

"Are you guys talking about marriage yet?" my mom asked; I was just glad she asked before Sheila got there.

"Mom, I want to talk about it, but Sheila definitely does not. She thinks that it's just way too early."

"It's early, but you guys sure have moved fast, already living together."

"Mom, I . . . ." then I clammed up, as I heard Sheila's key in the lock. My mother obviously understood, because the subject was dropped right then.

"Hi," she said, "you must be Mrs Wright. I'm Sheila, Sheila St Croix." My girlfriend introduced herself without waiting for me to do it.

The usual compliments and pleasantries followed. Neither of us had any homework for over the Easter holidays, so we left our laptops and books in the dorm, grabbed our suitcase -- we only took the one -- and headed downstairs to my mom's car. Then, when Sheila's back was turned, my mom stunned me: she gave me the thumbs up sign!

"No, no, not back there," mom said, as Sheila was about to get into the back seat. "I can see my son any time; I need to get to know you, so you sit up front." Sheila had a bit of a panicked look on her face, but I mouthed, "It's OK" to her.

Have I told you that my mother can talk? It's hard to get in a word edgewise with her, unless she wants you to, and the only one who can get around that is my father. He's an attorney who has his office in our home, so he has to be able to run the conversation!

Stowe is about four hours away from Brown, so that left plenty of time for mom to talk to Sheila. Naturally, she decided to regale my girlfriend with as many embarrassing stories about her son as she could. There were times on the ride up when I was not amused.

A little after noon, mom stopped at a Wendy's so we could all use the restroom and eat. "You know, Sheila," mom continued to embarrass me, "I think Maxwell used to love those Wendy's commercials when they had that pretty redheaded girl starring in them. What was her name again, Max?"

"Morgan something." Actually, I knew her full name, but didn't want to let on. But Sheila wouldn't let me get away with it.

"And how do you know that?" she asked.

"I looked it up on the internet," I admitted, sheepishly.

"So, am I going to have to dye my hair red?" I was getting teased mercilessly now, so I got her back.

"Then the carpet wouldn't match the drapes."

"Maxwell!"

Oh,

shit!

I can't believe I said that with my

mother

sitting there. That was more Maxwell Smart than Maxwell Wright. But it did shut up that particular conversation.

All in all, the weekend went very well. Not a word was said when I put our suitcase in my old bedroom, and neither of my parents gave any indication that there was anything out of the ordinary about Sheila sleeping with me.

My best friend from high school, Danny, came over when he heard I was back, and he spread the word around all of our old buddies that I actually had a

girl,

a real

girl,

with me. Most've them had heard about me having a female roommate, but remember, I had told them over Christmas break that she was just a roommate, not a girlfriend. Now she's a girlfriend, and wow, that short haircut set her apart, and I got credited for having 'landed' a super-sophisticated hot college girl. Saying it that way sure makes it seem very high school, but, truth is, I'd have probably thought the same way if Sheila had been one of my buddies' girlfriend rather than mine. Yeah, I was just plain proud to be with her.

We got lucky with the weather, about 15º above average all weekend long. We went on a couple of nice walks, with me showing her around town, different places that held meaning for me, seeing different people I'd known all my life. Sheila isn't one for showing off or 'public displays of affection,' but just her holding my hand as we walked through town was more than enough. I was gaining confidence in myself with every step.

But most important was that my parents liked Sheila. I was pretty sure that they would, but once my girlfriend saw that they liked her, that they accepted her as part of my life and part of the family, she visibly relaxed.

Sheila and I woke up Easter Monday, not really wanting to get out of bed, but hey, the professors at Brown University don't care if you want to sleep in; their classes go on with or without you, and if you can't keep up, it's on you. There were only three weeks left of classes, and then finals began on Wednesday, May 10th. But one great thing about us living together: since our romantic lives were together and convenient, there wasn't a bunch of wasted time looking for love in all the wrong places, and we'd both kept up with studying and our assignments. Heck, even my grammar was getting better in my papers, thanks to Sheila!

But the approaching end to the semester raised another huge question: where would we be, and could we be together, after the semester ended? As far as my 'plans' were concerned, I expected to go back to Stowe for summer break, and try to get a summer job of some kind. I was a decent swimmer, and had worked as a lifeguard at the community pool the last two summers, but didn't have any guarantee for this coming season. Maybe I could find something, being a hometown boy, but if Sheila came with me, it would be a lot harder for her. Her parents were better off than mine, and if she went back to Portland, she wouldn't have to work. At any rate, we needed to figure out what we were going to do.

We tried discussing this, but really didn't have much of a clue where to begin. It occurred to me that maybe, if we were married, somehow it would be easier, but there was just no raising that subject with my girlfriend; she not only didn't want to talk about it, but she didn't even want to tell me why she didn't want to talk about it.