My Number

Well,

crap!

I'd never minded showering with the guys before, and actually I pretty much enjoyed it. It had always been fun to see them getting turned on, especially the ones who'd wanted me but couldn't have me. But now that I had Dave, all of a sudden I didn't find the other guys in the shower nearly as exciting.

And it turned out not to be three guys, but four! Four girls, with four boyfriends, laughing it up and having a good old time. There were supposedly individual shower stalls in this gang bathroom, but the privacy curtains had disappeared long ago, and even the curtain rods were gone. I kept my back to the crowd, but that didn't make much difference: I was the tallest girl on the floor, and everyone who knew me could recognize me from behind. I heard a couple of the guys yell, "Hey, Marcy" to me, and all that I could do was wave.

Then it got worse: when I saw who the guys were, I knew that I'd gone out with two of them before. One of them, another guy named Dave, had the good sense not to say anything dumb while he was with the girl he'd spent last night with, but the other, a guy I only knew by his nickname, Crash - how the Hell do you get a nickname like that? - noticed when I did turn around that I'd quit shaving my pussy, and had to comment on me "letting her grow out again," like it was any of his fucking business. His girlfriend giggled, I guess because she was shaved bare as a baby's bottom. Finally, I got pissed and said, "Take a good look, 'cause an eyeful is all that you're going to get." I towel-dried my hair, toweled the rest of me off, and headed back to my dorm room, with just the towel wrapped around me; I didn't want to take the time to put on the oversized t-shirt I slept in back on.

Amanda was still in the room when I got back there, and I warned her that there were four guys in the bathroom, showering with their girlfriends. She was surprised that I was pissed about this, because she'd seen me showing off deliberately in the past. Heck, half of the adjoining floors' guys had seen me in the shower before, and I had never hurried back out of the shower before just because there were guys in there; she teased me that I must really have it bad for Dave if this stuff bothered me now. I was still wrapped in my towel, blow-drying my hair when I told her to call Eric and see if he wanted to shower with her.

"Nope, at least not yet. I told you that I'm taking it slow with him."

"Well, I don't notice you running to the showers, to show off for those four other guys, either."

"Marcy, I do need a shower, but I've still got a little time before I have to take one. No sense me messing up stuff for their girlfriends."

"Yeah, that's an excuse." Amanda could tell that I was still a bit pissed, and the subject got dropped.

"You still going camping tonight, still being on the rag and all?"

"Dave said it would be OK, that I just had to stow the used tampons in an air-tight baggie, so the bears wouldn't smell them."

"Bears? You're going out camping where there are

bears

in the woods?"

I laughed at that, and told her I'd ragged Dave about trying to turn me into Purina Bear Chow. I had a few minutes before I had to leave for class, so I checked the forecast on my phone and picked out the right clothes for a couple of days out in the woods; The Weather Channel mentioned that there was a good chance of rain, and that might not be fun. At least Amanda hadn't asked me if I was going to screw Dave while I was still on my period, because I didn't have an answer for that one myself yet. I guessed that if he wanted to, I would, but I wasn't sure just how we'd avoid a mess in the tent if we did. For all the screwing around that I've done, I never have during my period before.

Class dragged on and on today, but at least I had all of my papers done and handed in on time. I got lucky in that none of my professors assigned much homework for over the weekend, so I wouldn't have to worry about that when I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend.

I got done at 2:00, and texted Dave to see where he was.

Heading over to the Student Center, hoping to walk you back to my place.

OK, that worked, and I texted back that I'd be there in ten minutes. There is a big TV lounge inside, with a 60-inch high def TV always going, and that's where I caught up with him. I liked greeting him with a kiss, because I knew that he liked being seen with me. Yeah, he was kind of modest and kind of shy, but he was still a guy, and he liked showing off that he had a cute girlfriend.

Still, while maybe I was cute, I hadn't been making much of an effort at it. Oh, I knew that being 5'9 and skinny caught peoples' eyes, but I had been dressing simply, just jeans and shirts, my hair pulled back in a ponytail, and I hadn't been bothering with make-up since last Friday night. Dave liked it, and I was noticing that I was getting just as much attention from other people as I did when I dressed fancier and wore my warpaint. That kind of boosted my own ego some.

We were headed up Rose Street, on the way to his apartment when the clouds started to roll in. By the time we got to Dave's place it was starting to sprinkle, and he asked me if maybe there was something else I'd like to do for the weekend, since the forecast was so iffy.

Well, there had been one thing on my mind, and it had kind of worried me, but I took the plunge. "Yeah, there is something else I'd like to do, if you think that you're ready for it." I know that I had a serious look on my face, and it was obvious that Dave was concerned.

"Uh oh, what?" Dave was fumbling with his apartment door lock.

"OK, first I need to tell you about something that happened this morning. I went in to get my shower this morning, and after I was already in there, under the shower, four guys and their girlfriends came in to shower and play around as well. I mean, nothing happened between me and them, but the guys spent plenty of time eyeballing me."

"Is that what the dorms are like?" Dave asked me.

"Pretty much, yeah. Blanding is a coed dorm, with men and women on alternating floors, and yeah, stuff like that happens kind of a lot. Not every day, mind you, but a lot, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Does this bother you?"

"I guess that it shouldn't, but a little bit, yeah."

I hadn't realized that it was going to do this, but Dave's answer felt wonderful to me. The guys I'd been with before, they never cared if I was showing off in the showers. Heck, they wanted to join me. Dave actually cared, cared enough to be a bit jealous. Maybe I shouldn't look at jealousy as caring, but I knew that was what it meant for Dave.

"Well, that brings up the something else I was thinking about doing. This is pretty serious, and I want a serious answer, an answer that you think about before you give it to me." Dave was looking at me hard, using those blue-grey eyes of his to try to look into my brain. "We kind of flirted about me moving in next semester, but, if you're ready, I'd like to go ahead and do it now."

Dave looked stunned for a second, and then that huge, winning smile of his crossed his face. "Marcy, I don't have to think about it anymore, because I've already thought about it. Yes, absolutely, I'd love it, I'd love to be with you forever."

"Forever is a long time, Dave, and you need to mean what you say."

"Marce, you're my first love, you know that, and right now, I don't know any other way to think about you. I love you so much, as much as I understand this feeling anyway."

"OK, second thing I'd like to do this weekend, since it's raining pretty good right now." It had started sprinkling as we had gotten to Dave's apartment, but it was pouring now. "Have you told your folks about me yet?"

"No, I haven't talked to my mom since I met you."

Well," I began, "maybe normally this would be too early, but if I'm really going to move in here, I want to meet your family, and I want you to meet my mom. I mean, it's got to happen sometime, so it might as well be now."

Dave looked kind of stunned again, but adapted quickly, and said yes. We went ahead and planned on Saturday with my mom, and Sunday going to meet his folks. They were in opposite directions anyway, with Dave's folks living on a small farm on the Kentucky River in Estill County, while my mom lived to the west, in Shelbyville. That wouldn't leave much move-in time this weekend, but we could get that part done during the following week. We both called our families, to make the arrangements.

To say that my mother was surprised is an understatement. She knew that I had been too much of a wild child, and was surprised to find out that I had a real, honest-to-goodness boyfriend. Saturday went really well, and mom liked Dave, a lot. She whispered to me, when Dave excused himself to hit the bathroom, that he was a keeper and I'd better not screw this up. I told her I sure would try not to, and that I was going to move in with him this coming week. She actually appreciated the fact that not staying in the dorms would save some money; Dave's apartment won't cost anymore with two people in it rather than one. Mom wanted to buy us a housewarming present, but I told her no: a single woman, still trying to keep up with the house she once shared with my father was a strain on her, and she really didn't have any spare money. Dave had already figured out that we weren't that well off, and he went right along with me on this. After the day was over, we headed back to Lexington for the night, preparing to go see his parents on Sunday. I was still trying to figure out if I was ready for that, but knew it had to happen.

Dave was pretty happy about the meeting with my mom, but I hadn't been worried about that at all; I knew that she'd like him. What sacred me to death was meeting his parents, because I was the one with the past, not Dave, and I was worried that his mother, and his sisters, if they were there, would see right through me.

Dave hadn't pushed the issue of sex with me Friday night, I guess because of my period, and we had slept cuddled next to each other, with some soft kisses, but that was it. Waking up next to Dave Saturday morning felt different, the first time I had slept with a man without it being just to screw, and I could tell just how much he loved me, and how very normal this all was. On Saturday, I really wasn't interested in sex; I was just too worried about meeting Dave's parents, and my period was still gushing. Dave understood, and once again, we drifted off to sleep like a long-time couple, two people who loved each other but who were no longer desperate for sex.

But, by Sunday morning, I was just plain horny. Waking up next to Dave, seeing his chest slowly rise and fall, looking at his hair just being long enough to have a bedhead tousle to it, I simply had to have him. He was laying there, naked, still asleep, with his morning erection, when I lowered my head to take him in my mouth.

Well,

that

woke him up quickly enough! "Oh, man,

Marcy!

he said, purring his happiness to me. I went down on him slowly, but still used all the tricks I knew to make him cum . . . and it still didn't work! A guy's morning hard on is fueled as much by the pressure of a full bladder as it is by testosterone and desire, and he just wasn't going to cum easily. "Marcy, make love to me," he asked, he almost begged, when I reminded him that I wasn't done with my period. He said that he didn't care, so I pulled out my already-full tampon, climbed on top of him, and then guided him inside of me.

"Just remember, you asked for this," I teased him, but man, I was really ready for it, too. Being on top, I was setting the pace, and I was moving slowly, but still hard, pushing myself as hard down on to Dave as I could. My hands were on his chest, kneading is pecs, and my eyes were staring into his. I could feel a climax building up inside me, slower to come than it had before, but it was a deeper, stronger climax than usual, and I was almost collapsing on top of my boyfriend when it hit me.

Then Dave took charge, rolling us over together, while never coming apart, and while he went slowly at first, it didn't take long before he was just slamming himself into me hard, my clit quivering from the impact of his pubic bone against me. He put his hands on mine, pinning me down to the bed, and fucking me as hard as he could, with climax after climax rising and falling inside of me. Finally, just as I was thinking he wouldn't cum at all, I could see it rising within him, as his face contorted and sweat was pouring off his face, and he unleashed himself inside of me. Oh, my God, it was the most wonderful feeling ever, and I knew that he was mine, and that I was his, without any doubt, forever. Maybe I'd want to keep having period sex, if this was what it was like!

Fortunately, my flow had slacked off a lot, even if it wasn't over. We were both a red mess, but there were only a couple of small spots on the sheets. I teased Dave, "This is what you have to put up with if you are going to live with a woman."

"No," he said, "this is what I'm going to have to put up if I'm going to

marry

a woman."

Oh, my God,

what

did he just say? Sensible Marcy should have backed off right then, and told him to shut up, but the Marcy of this morning just threw herself on Dave, hugging him and kissing him and crying like a teenager.

Finally, we broke apart, and we managed to gather enough sense to talk again, when Dave said, "Look, Marcy, I've just

got

to piss," and he got up and pretty much rushed to the bathroom. As soon as I heard him flush, I got up and hurried in there myself, and said, "Move!" slamming myself down on the toilet before I peed all over myself. Dave was still in the bathroom, but he exited quickly, giving me enough privacy to wipe myself, and put in a fresh tampon.

I brushed my teeth and the started our shower. "Get in here, Dave, 'cause I need someone to wash my back," I hollered in to him, and he didn't waste any time getting in with me.

It's a good thing that this old apartment building has a huge boiler, one source of hot water for 24 apartments, because we were in the shower a

long

time, hugging and kissing and occasionally actually shampooing and soaping each other. "You know, you sure know how to make a girl's day," I smiled at him, thinking about what he had said, "but maybe we might put off getting married for a few more days."

"Oh, Marcy, I know that it's way too soon to be talking about such stuff, but I just couldn't help myself, and it is what I feel like."

"We've got time, sweetie, we've got plenty of time." I know that I was smiling ear-to-ear the whole time. Sensible Marcy was

way

in the background.

Eventually, we got out of the shower, dried off and got dressed. We still had today's meeting with his parents but, you know what, somehow I wasn't nearly as nervous as I had been. I was about to grab my flip-flops, since the rain had stopped, when Dave reminded me that his folks lived on a farm, and it was probably muddy there. I was dressed sensibly, regular jeans rather than my skinnies, and a plain blouse, one that was well-tailored and fitted me well, but wasn't overly sexy. I wore a white wife-beater tank top under it, since I didn't have a bra. A white cotton thong under my jeans gave Dave something to smile about secretly.

Breakfast wasn't much, just a couple of pieces of buttered toast, before we put some fresh coffee in travel mugs for the trip.

It was every bit of an hour from Dave's apartment to his folk's farm, on the low river-bottom land. The house was a simple one, a picture-post-card perfect white clapboard farmhouse, with a wrap-around porch, complete with a porch swing and old Shaker-style rocking chairs. The house had a typical grey-painted porch floor, and an old wooden screen door covering a beautifully-carved, very heavy front door with a beveled-glass window pane in it. There were some mature trees around the house, maples - I can recognize maple leaves thanks to the Canadian flag! - and an old red barn off to the side. A Kentucky four-board fence went along the front of the property, but the fencing along the sides was simple wire mesh. This property was very well-kept, but it wasn't a wealthy place at all.

Dave's parents had been waiting for us in those rocking chairs, and were down from the porch to greet us, really to greet me, as we got out of Dave's car. The driveway was stone, with plenty of room to park cars, as though the Parkers got plenty of visitors.

Dave's parents really put me at ease, with genuinely friendly greetings. The house was old-fashioned inside, with old wooden floors protected by throw rugs, wallpaper and plenty of family pictures on the walls. There was a separate dining room, with a huge table that could easily have seated eight, covered by a red gingham table cloth; it was a scene right out of the 1950s, which was kind of strange, because Dave's parents really weren't that old, maybe early fifties themselves.

Of course, they had to ask how we met, and I made it sound a bit less sexy than it turned out to be, just saying that we met at a party, and then head out to escape the noise and talk, which was the absolute truth. Naturally, I

didn't

say that I slept with their son that night, though it was kind of obvious that they had guessed we had slept together at some point.

It was just early October, not Thanksgiving, but apparently the Parkers considered this a special occasion, because they had planned a full-spread turkey dinner, with stuffing, mashed potatoes, broccoli, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, the works. I went into the kitchen with Mrs Parker, to help a bit while she was cooking, but mostly because it was obvious that she wanted to talk to me. She asked me about school, about my career plans, stuff like that. Finally, when she was sure that her husband wasn't listening - Dave and his dad were watching the Bengals playing on television - she got down to brass tacks, and asked me just how serious Dave and I were.

"It's really serious," I admitted, "even though we've really only known each other for nine days now. Dave's unlike any of the other guys I've ever met, because he genuinely respects me, genuinely cares for me. You have an amazing son, Mrs Parker."

"You're older than him, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm 21, and a junior at UK. Still, just because Dave's a couple years younger than me, he's still very mature, a lot more so than most of the 21-year-old guys at UK. He's serious, he's studious, he's respectful and well-mannered."

"Have you slept with him?" Damn! Mrs Parker sure put that question out directly! But there was no sense in lying about it.

"Yes, ma'am, we have." I made sure to use 'we,' because it made us sound more like a committed couple. I thought about telling her that I was planning to move in with Dave, but kept my mouth shut about that. "I really do love him," I continued, kind of leaving it at that. There was no way I was going to mention that Dave had at least mentioned marriage.

Dinner was ready right at three, just when one of Dave's older sisters came bopping in the house. Her boyfriend came with her, and it quickly became obvious that they were living together, which was a relief for me: if the Parkers' daughter was shacked up with her boyfriend, they couldn't say much if I moved in with their son. I was worried that the daughter could see right through me, and tell just how much of a slut I'd been in the past, but if she did, she didn't give any hints about it that I could tell.

It's a good thing that I can eat anything I want, and as much as I want, without having to worry about my weight, because the table was absolutely groaning with all of the food set down on it. Even with six of us, all with hearty appetites, there was enough food left over to feed a small Ethiopian village. Mrs Parker let out the first clue about her thoughts when she said that she'd pack some of the leftovers for us to take back to our apartment, and I don't think that it was a slip of the tongue.