Toby phoned Linda, asking her to meet him at a public place. He and she had some memorable moments together there, all good ones.
She asked, "Is something going to happen?"
He replied, "Maybe."
They were going steady, and not for the first time. She wondered which prospect made her more nervous, breaking up or tying the knot. But she was calm when she said, "I'll be there." To herself:
It's probably time to find out.
She had, however, enjoyed the past few days of emotional coasting.
The Municipal Museum had, under one roof, an art gallery, an aquarium, a planetarium, a local history center, a science museum, a concert hall, and a children's museum, with curated overlaps. Linda and Toby, and pretty much everyone else in their mid-sized city, called this place the MuMu.
The building had a huge central courtyard and lobby. Toby waited on a wide, curved, padded bench in the lobby, knowing that she'd look for him there.
Linda smiled as she approached, and he did too as he stood. Their kiss wasn't excessive, but the hug may have been, made less obvious by their winter coats. He took both her hands and brought her to sit next to him on the bench, and she had a flash of panic, which faded.
Toby had worked out what to say. "I'm ready to get you a sparkly thing in a little box. But first, I think we should have The Talk."
Her eyes brightened a little at this, but her flash of joy lasted no longer than the one of panic. "We should," she said, relieved that she generally felt good about this.
His reserve broke as he looked at the straight ash-blond hair escaping the sides of her blue ski cap, the slight reddening of her lean, smooth cheeks, the big eyes that matched the cap. "You look amazing," he said happily, while knowing that this was what worried him most about getting serious with her.
Linda stifled a sigh. What he'd said made her feel obligated to reciprocate, and find something to say that set them on equal footing. She always felt put-upon when complimented on her looks. But, having learned from one of their dark times, she knew better than to lie to him.
She considered Toby okay-looking, given that men are seldom held to the kind of visual attraction standard that women are. The beard was thick enough to look good short. He was hefty, maybe more than he needed to be for his height and build, but similar to most men in this city surrounded by farmland. He was expressive and attentive and she could read him like a book.
"You look like someone I might want, and need," she said, finding that it was true. Enough.
His eyes widened. That gave her a little swell of pleasure. It didn't fade.
They strolled through the MuMu, poking into various parts of it, not at all minding the place's familiarity. Admission was cheap because it was public, the tax-supported centerpiece of a downtown revival. She and he both liked getting as much entertainment as possible from a small pile of cash.
Which would matter even more,
she thought,
if we become one household
.
And in The Talk,
she thought further,
we'd decide how much really cheap entertainment we'd look for beyond the household
.
He asked her to pick a cuisine as they walked through the darkening late afternoon, into the hipster district. She chose South Asian, as exotic as one could find in this town. Linda hugged his arm and leaned against him as they walked, enjoying his solidity, musing on how it would feel later. Getting more in the mood than she'd expected.
The dinner conversation was light and impersonal. Each made the other laugh a few times. Toby clamped down his tendency to try too hard to impress her. This was a crowded, well-regarded restaurant. Surely there'd be at least one better-looking guy who'd swoop down and take her away. Yet here she was with him, in about their fourth go-round of dating, and she didn't seem inclined to be taken by a swooper.
They went to his apartment, which he had spent hours cleaning. Once their coats were open she burrowed in for a closer hug. This kiss
was
excessive, with her craning her neck to meet his lips with hers, and then getting their tongues involved. In a few seconds she had to break and gasp.
They moved to the sofa and began making out, more gradually. Linda enjoyed the slow kissing, the fondling while clothed. It was nice, it didn't have to be anything else right away. She felt calm and safe.
He had just turned 30, she was 28. They knew each other well. Did either of them think, after all this time, they could do better with someone else?
He's companionship-better, anyway,
she thought.
Maybe even start-a-family-better. As for wild-passion-better...
Toby stirred a little, and tugged at the waistband of his jeans. He was a grower, and the briefs that were comfortable 90 percent of the time were becoming an issue. He got enough cock space for the moment, then pulled her into his lap.
Maybe being with her and worrying,
he thought,
is better than not being with her. Maybe.
She sighed, sliding her torso along his, and ran fingers through his hair while she kissed his forehead. He spread his fingers to hold and knead her compact but nicely rounded buttocks.
She thought,
Wild-passion-pretty-good, at least
. The makeout was no longer enough for her.
Without looking, she undid his belt, snap, and zipper. He lifted his trunk from the couch. She put her weight on her knees to either side of him and, without looking, hauled down his jeans and briefs, and got a hand around his prick.
Then there was some reconfiguring, as he pulled up her sweater and she unbuttoned her jeans and he got out of his flannel shirt. Then they were on the rug as they got rid of shoes, so as to bare their legs, and he got her on her side and hugged her while unhooking her bra. Skin-on-skin was good for about thirty seconds, then she clambered up and said "Gotta freshen up," and headed for the bathroom, still in sheer black undies.
He took advantage of being the sole resident of this apartment by washing down his crotch in the kitchen sink. She was willing to pleasure him orally if he wasn't repulsive.
They met in the bedroom, lit slightly by a lamp in the living room. Linda had a healthy, gym-toned body, but among the thousands of corn-fed rural women in or near the city, she counted as skinny. Her breasts were widely separated, and were somewhere between A and B cup, and she didn't want them looked at. Toby liked them just fine, they were high and pert, and he treated them with care and respect. Once he even got her tiny nipples close to orgasm, adding to the intensity of her overall climax. He fondled and nuzzled her nipples now as they clung side-by-side on his narrow bed. She put a leg over his hip and set her vulva against him. The press of warm wetness made his prick flex.
They could sixty-nine on this bed if he lay on his back and she straddled, both faces to crotches. She stroked the shaft while licking the underside, down to the balls, trying to tongue thick hair out of the way. He was already at full width and almost at full length. As ardent as Linda was, especially with his tongue and fingers making her clit and folds swell, she knew that they would have to take the usual steps to bring her pleasure, and as little pain as possible.
But I want him to fuck me and be happy and make me happy,
she thought, and the consciousness stream continued,
and yes I want to do this all the time and be in the same home with him so we can just grab and fuck whenever we want and fuck and fuck some more.
