My Number Ch 13

This was hot, and this was funny, both at the same time. This was the first time I'd worn heels since I met Dave, and that four inches of extra height put me dead on his level. It didn't make any difference to me, but Dave, wow! He was just totally turned on, as in couldn't keep his hands off of me turned on. I had to promise him a really good time when we got back home, just to get my clothes shopping done. I needed some professional looking slacks, and maybe a nice blazer, for my summer job interview, and we found a lot of nice things at the mall. There were some nice skirts there, too, professional office-looking skirts, but it was hard to find a size three skirt that wasn't way too short on me for the office. Finally,

finally!

I spotted one which would look good on me that was only about three inches above the knee and still slim enough to fit me well.

I knew perfectly well what I was doing when I came out of the dressing room to show Dave, wearing the skirt and the heels. He'd never given me the first clue that he liked skirts, but with the heels exaggerating the length of my already long legs, I wasn't sure that I'd get back into the dressing room to change before he just plain tore the clothes off of me.

We really spent too much, but I did need the clothes. Before this trip, I had casual clothes and party clothes, and neither was right for a professional office. I already had skirts, but I never wore them, because they were just ridiculously short, and I had been conscious of changing my image, changing my whole mindset with Dave. Way, way in the back of my mind was a nagging worry about what Dave would think if he saw me in those party girl clothes. I mean, he knew I had a past, and I think he knew that it was a fairly slutty past, but I didn't want those old clothes to focus his mind on it. In all of these months, he never asked me about my 'number,' and I certainly didn't volunteer it. I'd been doing a pretty good job of pushing that into the back of my mind, but every so often it would come forth, unbidden, and start to worry me a bit.

Oh, not as much as it was worrying me that first month with Dave, but still . . . .

Amanda had fessed up to Eric that she'd cheated on him over last Thanksgiving, after fretting about it for a couple of months, and Dave knew about that. Still, Amanda hadn't told Eric her number, or at least I didn't think she had, and it apparently wasn't bothering Eric. Dave could have used that episode to inquire about my past, but he didn't, and I was relieved about that. Still, while Eric hadn't gotten lucky all that often before he and Amanda got together, he hadn't been a virgin, either, and Dave was when we got together.

That was something I'd never, ever forget, waking up next to Dave that first morning. He had a slight, innocent smile on his face while he was still asleep, and then when he woke up and realized that he wasn't alone in his bed, oh my God, it was just so wonderful. He has the most amazing smile, and it showed how incredibly happy he was, waking up with me. And I felt it, too, complete, almost overwhelming joy waking up next to this incredible man.

Things were calmer now, settled, and we were used to each other being there, but I still always had that feeling of happiness waking up beside Dave, and I thought he felt the same way as I did.

We headed back to Dave's car after I finished spending too much money, and it was a pretty awesome feeling. I was back in my jeans, but still had on the heels, and Dave was raring to go! The walk out of the mall got us a lot of looks, which sure fed my ego, and I'm pretty certain that it puffed up Dave's as well. Every guy likes it when people notice that he's got a cute girlfriend, and I was standing 6'1" in the heels; that'll catch peoples' eyes. If the car hadn't had a too-large center console, I would have let Dave take me right in the car, but it was just too small for us to have that kind of fun. We did need to pick up something for dinner at the grocery store, but I didn't bother reminding Dave of that: there was no way he wanted to delay getting back to the apartment.

Truth be told, I didn't want to delay it, either, and I started unbuttoning my shirt as we were walking up the stairs. Dave sure noticed, even though I was ahead of him, and all that he could see was my back. I unlocked the door, and Dave practically threw the clothing bags on the couch, not wanting to wait a second longer.

"Stop!" I said. "Go into the bathroom, until I call you out." He had a quizzical look on his face, but did as he was told, because he could tell I was setting up something he'd like.

"OK, you can come out now," I called to him, and he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. I was standing there, naked, except for one thing - two things, actually - my four-inch black pumps. I had my hands on my hips, just looking at him, dominatrix-style, and Dave looked just plain stunned.

Well, he didn't stay stunned for too long, and started approaching me, but I was determined to play this game out. I put my hand out, onto his chest, and stopped him short. It was a good thing I had set my left leg back a bit, or he might have knocked me backward onto the couch. Then I put both of my hands on his shoulders, and gently pushed him down to his knees. Once down, I took the step up to him, pulling his head right down to my pussy. He was raring to go, alright, but I decided: I was going to take charge on this one.

I had been raring to go just as much as Dave was, and it couldn't have taken a minute under his tongue-lashing, before I was tensing up, and then releasing against him, my hands holding his mouth against me hard. Then I stood him up, turned us both around - this was a bit more awkward than I had expected in these damned heels! - and then pushed him down onto the couch. At that point I straddled him, and just plain took him, right there, slamming up and down on him as hard as I could. I'm not a quiet girl when it comes to sex, and I might have even exaggerated my cries a bit more today. It was a shame that Mary wasn't home, across the alley, because she'd sure have enjoyed this show!

Even after my one orgasm from being eaten, I was quickly building up to another one fucking Dave, and I could see it on his face, that he was building up fast as well. Of course, he was trying to control it - and he does have a lot of self-control - but he was really worked up, and after I had two more hard climaxes, in rapid succession, he just let go, flooding me with his love.

It was halfway through April, and Lexington was having a warm spring this year; the apartment was already warm, and even as fast as this had gone, we were both covered with sweat. I was leaning into Dave, still on top of him, him still inside of me, kissing him over and over. Finally I backed off a bit, looked at his smile, and then we both started laughing, laughing our asses off, at how much fun this had been. Dave was still inside me, not quite hard anymore, but not completely deflated either, and when I realized that I started rocking on him, easily enough that he didn't slip out, just enough so that he started hardening up again. Thank heaven for these twenty-year-old boys who can get ready for round two so fast!

After that first hard-slamming fuck, we took this second one slower. The first one was just plain fucking, but this time we were making love. The hard kisses had been replaced with soft, sweet ones, the closed eyes had been replaced with open ones, and Dave had this marvelous ability to practically look into my soul. I just loved those grey-blue eyes of his, the depths of them, how I could see his love for me in his eyes. I had never liked my own dark brown eyes, but Dave always said that he loved them. Of course, if there was anything about me that he didn't like, he'd never say so!

This time took longer, longer for me to build up to a climax, but when it finally washed over me, it was like the tide, coming in slowly, but coming in slow waves, easy enough, but one right after the other. I was in perfect bliss, and I knew that Dave could see it.

You know, God sure deprived men! Orgasm can come so many different ways for women, while men seem to cum only one way. Eventually it built up in my fiancé, but I actually felt a bit sorry for him as he emptied himself into me, that he couldn't experience the whole variety of pleasure that women can feel.

It must've been a couple of hours that we had been cuddled up together before we finally untangled. We were both sweaty, and naturally his semen had been leaking out of me, leaving us both a mess. We were still smiling, and I got up, took his hand and pulled Dave to his feet as well - I had finally kicked off the heels - and simply said, "Shower."

One great thing about this old apartment building: the hot water came from one big boiler, and for a shower in the late afternoon there was all the hot water we could ever want. We washed each other's bodies, and each other's hair. Dave kept his short, even shorter than when I had met him, but I hadn't cut my hair since we'd met, and it was getting nice and long, below my shoulder blades, and I could tell that he liked it, even though he'd never said anything about letting m hair grow longer. It took him a long time to wash and cream rinse my hair, with my arms around his waist, my fingers gently playing with his back.

After our shower, I just stood in the bathroom, brushing out my hair, using the blow drier on a half-low setting; I don't like to use the hottest setting and fry my hair. I was still naked, and if Dave didn't sit there and look at me every second, he kept popping back into the bathroom for snippets of conversation.

Our couch, such as it is - the apartment was furnished, but it was definitely student-slums-cheaply furnished - wasn't particularly great feeling to sit on nude, but the last thing I wanted to do was get dressed, so I got a clean towel and put it down on the couch before sitting there and trimming my fingernails. Amanda and I used to get mani-pedis, but they were an extravagance I didn't really need.

Then Dave surprised me. As I was finishing my fingernails, he took the clippers and started to do my toenails for me. He'd never done this before, even though he loved giving me foot massages, and this amateur pedicure was as much foot massage as it was trimming my nails. I had been about to put a clear polish on my fingernails, but there was no way I could concentrate enough to do that while Dave was taking care of my feet.

This was just so wonderful. My fiancé wasn't doing this for me just to get laid; we'd already done that, and I was completely satisfied. He was doing this just for me, just to make me feel good. I was half-sitting, half-laying long ways on the couch, with my feet in Dave's lap as he pampered me. He didn't have to say anything; I could easily see that he was doing this just because he loved me. Heck, he even used the emery board to even out where he had trimmed my nails; what guy does that, if it's not for love?

Finally, we turned our thoughts to supper, and it wasn't good: like I said, we had needed to get to the grocery store, and hadn't. Turned out that we had three choices: peanut butter and crackers, breakfast food - which would leave the cupboard bare for breakfast in the morning - or going out to eat. Then I thought, I could whip us up some fried-egg sandwiches, and save the sausage for tomorrow morning. I could whip up some biscuits from scratch, for good old Southern biscuits and gravy.

Talk turned a bit serious over our supper. We were getting married on May the 20th, but we both needed to start summer jobs as quickly as we could, and with the Central Bank job, I might have to start on the 22nd; that left one whole day for a honeymoon!

But, the more we talked about it, the more I realized, the more we both realized, that we didn't need a honeymoon! The past seven months had been as wonderful as any honeymoon I could ever imagine. I had found what I used to be too cynical to think could ever be found, the one man for me, the one man who had changed my life into this wonderful dream.

Oh, we were still poor, still having to penny-pinch our way through college, but there was a decent hope that we could have a more prosperous future once we were both graduated.

Then I noticed that Dave was looking at me kind of strangely. There was something he needed to tell me, and he was struggling to find the words, I could just tell.

Oh, my God, all of a sudden I was just flooded with worry. What was so hard to tell me that he'd be holding something back? I mean, I just knew that there wasn't another girl; we were so right together that there was no way he would be throwing me over for another woman. Still, he was a guy, and a pretty cute one - now that he'd gotten over being unable to talk to girls - and maybe he'd cheated on me. He had been pretty harsh on Eric when he found out that Eric had screwed around on Amanda that one time, but could that have been guilt over him cheating on me?

And what could I say if he had? My whole past came flooding back to me, and that awful 'number' I had just dinged itself into the front of my brain. I was Dave's first, and I had thought only, but could I blame him if he had wanted to see what sex was like with some other girl?

My mind was just a whirl. Could it have been Mary, across the alley? She was close, and she was a hottie; they could have found the time! Maybe it was some chick in one of his classes; there were like 15,000 coeds at UK, most of them cute, and with the warm spring we had been having, a whole bunch of them wearing their Daisy Dukes. Some cutie wearing bib overalls? I knew that he liked the look of a girl wearing bibs with no shirt under them, and if girls didn't usually wear them like that, who knows what a little crop top under the bibs might have done to fire up his fantasies?

I was just so afraid! All of a sudden I could see Amanda, the way she looked when she was worrying about telling Eric about screwing around, and Dave was looking the same way.

"You OK?" Dave startled me out of my thoughts. I guess that the worry must've been written across my face.

"Dave, I don't know, it's just like there's something you want to tell me, but can't. Is there something I've got to know?"

Gulp!

I could see it, plain as day: my fiancé had something to tell me, something that was worrying the crap out of him, and he was steeling himself for it.

"Well, Marcy, how would you feel if I joined the Army?"

Huh?

That

was it? Oh, thank God, it's not another girl! "What's going on, Dave?"

"Just before we met, I filled out an application for an Army ROTC scholarship. It's not often that you can get one to start your junior year, but I just found out: I've been accepted. If I take it, I'd have four weeks of training at Fort Knox, really right after we got married. It would make finding a job for the summer tougher, but I could probably at least find a laborer job when I got back. That means I wouldn't make as much money to save for the coming semester, but I'd have full tuition and books, plus a $450 a month stipend as a junior, and $500 a month as a senior."

I was still stunned. "And what does that mean when you are graduated? You'll have to serve in the Army?"

"It would mean an eight-year commitment, with at least the first four on active duty. But while I have the scholarship in hand, I haven't formally accepted it yet. It is a guaranteed job after graduation, but who knows where it would be."

"Like in fucking Af

ghan

istan?" Dave could see that I wasn't happy.

"Possibly, but I will not take the scholarship if you don't approve."

I sat there, kind of stunned at this turn of events. Looking at it practically, it made a whole lot of sense: Dave's tuition and books paid for, plus a monthly stipend which would pay for our food. But from a marital standpoint, it sucked. Our first month of marriage, we'd be apart. Then, after he was graduated, Dave would have four years of active duty, and no telling where it would be. Anyplace in the US, and I could be with him, but that didn't mean it would be anyplace where I could find a decent job. My career might be put on hold, at least for those four years. And there were some duty assignments which were "unaccompanied," meaning that wives couldn't go along.

Then again, with me being a year ahead of Dave, the possibility existed that my first career-level job, if I was lucky enough to get a decent offer upon graduation, might lead to us being separated during his senior year. We had talked about that, briefly, and knew it could happen, and basically decided that we'd wait and see what the future brought. If my career might mean separation, there wasn't much I could say if Dave's could mean the same thing.

And all of this didn't include the possibility that my future husband could be sent someplace at war! We were still in Afghanistan, Syria was still a mess, ISIS was still fighting in Iraq, and that could mean Dave could get wounded or killed. Dave wouldn't be graduated until May of 2019, and couldn't really be sent to any fighting until 2020, so maybe the bad stuff would be over by then, but nobody knows.

I was still sitting there, trying to figure out what to say. Our civilian prospects looked pretty good, right now, but Hell, we could be in another recession by the time we were graduated. Looking at it practically, this was a bird-in-the-hand-versus-two-in-the-bush decision. "Dave, do you want to do this?"

"Marcy, with the GI Bill, my old student loans will be paid off, and I'll have a guaranteed good job upon graduation. It really does make good sense."

"I know it makes good sense, but that wasn't what I asked you: do you want to do this?"

"Yeah, Marcy, I think I do."

"Dave, I know that you'd never stand in my way if I had a career goal, and I won't stand in yours. If this is what you want to do, then you should go ahead and do it; you know I'll always support you!"