Day 2
When Caitlyn awoke again, something was pressing her in an inappropriate place.
Once again it took a while to understand the surroundings, and it wasn't really until she saw Jon's face that everything fell into place. Then she felt his arms around her, felt his shoulder pillowing her head, his cheek pressed against hers, his entire body pressed down the length of hers. She was naked—they both were—and the thing poking her in the inappropriate place turned out to be his erection, pressing up between her thighs.
She could also feel an odd sort of crust drying on the inside of her legs. That was another thing nobody had ever told her about.
We did it,
she thought to herself.
We did it. In every sense of the word. We're married. It's done. I... I am Mrs. Caitlyn Stanford.
It's going to take a while to get used to that.
It was hard to tell what time it was; she couldn't see the clock, and whatever sunlight was pouring down on the Earth was being mollified by the overcast sky. It was her favorite season, because everything was so timeless; morning and afternoon and evening blended together in a grey slurry of diffuse light and everpine green. Plus, if they got lucky, it would rain. She had always loved rain. She especially loved rain in Jon's company.
She sort of wanted to know what time it was, and it would be nice to relieve her bladder, but Jon was still asleep, and it was too darned nice here in his arms. It was a little awkward with his neck and head arching over hers—a bit muggy, from lack of air circulation—but not uncomfortable. In fact, she couldn't recall ever feeling this well-rested. Or this relaxed. Or this... Loved.
She remembered now what they had done last night—his hands on her breasts, the urgent heat between her legs, and finally his member inside her—and the thought made her blush, both at the idea of having actually had sex and at the fact that she kind of wanted to do it again. Maybe not now, but, soon, definitely soon. She certainly understood now why Jon had always been eager to push their physical activities past the realm of the clothed. It hadn't been the earth-breaking, life-shattering event some people said it was; in fact, it had been downright uncomfortable to have his penis inside of her. But he'd said it would feel good eventually, and the whole rest of it had been so wonderful that she was inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.
He never made a fuss about it, but I know he chafed at having to wait until marriage to do this. Well... I think it was a good idea to wait—it's not like we were hurt by playing it safe—but I'm also glad we don't have to wait anymore.
She remembered the first time he had managed to get her motor running. He'd kissed her ears before that night, but never her neck, and when he did, all the rest of the world had fallen away. "I've never felt like that before," she had confessed afterwards. "I never knew I
could
feel that way before." And he had smiled and said, "That's what I'm here for."
She had never known she could feel
this
way either: comfortable, safe, sheltered... And satisfied, satisfied in more ways than she could explain. It was like nothing could touch her here.
Except for the things she wanted to touch her.
When she kissed his shoulder, he stirred, and when she kissed his neck, he said, "Mmmm." She had only done it a few times before in her life.
"Good morning," she said.
"Good morning, Mrs. Stanford," he said.
"Hee," she said. "It's going to take a while to get used to that."
"Then I shall say it every morning," he said, "until it is as natural to you as breathing."
"Can you see the clock?"
"Oh, is that all you woke me up for?"
"Heehee. I'm just curious."
"It's a little before ten."
"Hmm. I should get up. But. I'm so comfortable here."
"So am I. But I have to pee again."
"Yeah. And after... What we did earlier... I should probably take a shower again."
"Hmm." She heard his smile. "That sounds like a good idea. I think I'll join you."
"What?" she said. "In the
shower?
"
"Why not? It's big enough for the two of us. And I can help you wash your hair."
On second thought, that
did
sound nice. "Well, since you ask so nicely..."
He spooled up the shower while she used the toilet, and then joined him under the warm spray. He took her into his arms immediately and kissed her, heedless of the water coming down on them, and after a moment she closed her eyes and let him. He was right, the shower was indeed big enough for two.
Actually, maybe even more than that. Which would be really weird, but I hear some people like that sort of thing.
When they broke apart, his penis was at full staff again, poking at her belly. "Umm," she said. She had enjoyed their session in bed, but she wasn't sure she was up for a repeat performance.
"Oh, um," he said. "It does that."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It does that a lot. It doesn't take a whole lot for it to go hard."
"What, so, you mean— Every time we've kissed, for the last, like, year and a half—"
He shrugged, embarrassed.
"That's... That's kinda..."
"It's just what it does.
I
don't have control over it. And most of the time you couldn't tell, right? 'cause I was wearing pants."
"Yeah, but..." The thought that, for over a year, he'd had that thing pointing at her... Had she married a nymphomaniac? He had said it was normal, but surely that couldn't be so.
"Look, baby," he said. "Bottom line, it comes down to you. It's you that makes this thing get ready for action, and it's you that decides how and when it
gets
any action. If we moved too fast last night, you just say the word and we'll slow down. There is nothing that will happen in this marriage that you don't want."
And the thing was, he meant it. She knew he meant it. He had made promises like these many times before, and always kept them. And love welled up inside her and she reached for him and hugged him close, and if that meant he got an erection, that was okay, because there were worse prices to pay for having her beloved close at hand.
He
