The First Ninety Days Ch 03

Day 3

The first thing that happened the next morning was a phone call from Reverend Pendleton.

Actually, to be proper, the first thing that happened that morning was that they woke up. Jon was quite happy to do so: he had remembered to turn the alarm off this time, so there was no jolting and wailing and gnashing of teeth. Instead, he swam up from drowsiness to a faceful of Caitlyn's hair, which was ticklish but very nice. He had had worries that this position might be uncomfortable for prolonged use, and with a heavier woman he still thought it might be; but Caitlyn weighed about 105, and she made a lovely blanket. His morning wood was very much in evidence, and on occasion brushed lightly against her pussy lips, which gave him an idea.

Though she was still asleep, he was able to find her ear with his lips, especially its backside which she loved him to kiss and lick. He did not have access to her breasts, which were still pressed against his chest, but it was enough; within moments she was awake.

"Mmmm," she said. "Hi."

"Hi," he said. "Turn over."

Soon she was on her side, with him spooned up behind her, his arm looped around her and his hand on her breast, where it so naturally belonged. Her nipples were stiff and erect, begging for attention, and he did not deny her, caressing them with his hand while he continued on her ears and neck and throat with his mouth. When he reached below and found her wet and wanting, he knew what to do.

"Pass me a condom," he murmured.

It was a bit of a trick to get it on blind and one-handed, but he did. Then he coaxed her legs open and slid into her from behind, their bodies still pressed together, feeling her all the way down him, and especially her warm, tight embrace surrounding his cock. The condom sucked—it didn't feel anywhere near as good as unclad—and he had nowhere near the depth that front-to-front positions afforded, but maybe that was for the best; he had never had the longest of fuses, and the fact that he had to urinate was not going to help things.

It was a slow, languorous time, without the urgency of their previous sessions; it was like they were half-asleep, and maybe they were. He swung his arm around to fondle her breasts, sending the other one south to play where the real action was going. He felt his own latex-covered cock, and then the petal-soft folds and lips of her pussy, and then finally the sweet secret bud that was the center of her pleasure. His lips still continued their assault on her ear, and judging by Caitlyn's moans and the way she moved, her hips meeting his every thrust, her breasts presented proudly to her hands, she must be in heaven.

Eventually—far too soon, in his estimation—it was too much, and he pushed himself in as deep as he could go and exploded inside her. "Mmm," she said, holding herself still, and his cock clenched and spasmed and let loose its seed, and she turned her head up to kiss him and said, "Good morning."

"Good morning," he said.

"That was a good way to wake up," she said.

"I liked it too," he said. "Did you... Did you have an orgasm?"

"No, I didn't come," she said, surprising him. Where had she learned that word?

"Do you want me to... Finish you off?"

"Well..." She shrugged. "If you want to. I don't mind either way."

"Mmm," said Jon. The truth was, he wanted to be lazy—but how cruel was that? He'd come every time they'd had sex over the past three days, but she only once. A kind husband would give her the same gift she had given him, and he

wanted

to, but it was just so much

work

...

He was shaken from his ruminations by the ringing of a cellphone. He recognized the ringtone, but it wasn't his—it was Caitlyn's.

Caitlyn's eyes fluttered in surprise, and she scrambled from the bed. Jon glanced at the clock and noted in passing that it was 9:30 AM. Evidently this caller believed in punctuality.

"Hello?" said Caitlyn. "Yes, speaking... Oh, hi, Reverend!"

Jon blinked. What? The only Reverend they knew was Lawrence Pendleton, who had married them not two days hence. Why was

he

calling them?

"Fine," Caitlyn was saying, "just fine... Um, no, unfortunately, we're not on a honeymoon... We don't have the time or the money. But Jon has a few days off, and we're definitely enjoying ourselves... Oh, mostly business. We opened a joint bank account and found out we had a little more money than we thought we did... We started looking for jobs and a place to live... Heehee. We had to go look for some contraception... Hee. Actually, yes, they're great. I'm really enjoying what we do together." This was about the time Jon's eyebrows climbed into his hair. "Hum? No, not really. I mean, we didn't hurt anyone or lose anything by waiting until we got married. But it's nice to not have to wait anymore!

"Huh? —Oh, sure! Um." She covered the mouthpiece with a hand. "Jon, he wants to talk to you."

Jon blinked. Why would Lawrence Pendleton want to talk to him?

"

Hello, Mr. Stanford?

"

"Hi, Pastor Pendleton."

"

From Caitlyn's description, it sounds like things are going really well for you two.

"

Jon gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah, well. It's only been two days. Give it time."

Reverend Pendleton

did

laugh. "

Yes, I suppose even the strongest marriages have tough days. But, actually... That's what I wanted to speak to you about.

"

About tough days?

"All right..."

"

You've been coming to Shellview Federated for a while. Have you ever heard me mention that I provide pre-marriage counseling?

"

He had. "Umm... Isn't it a bit late for that, sir?"

Rev. Pendleton laughed again. "

'Sir.' Call me Larry, Jon.

"

"Umm. Okay. Larry." God, how uncomfortable could you get?

"

And, yes, it obviously is a little bit late, but better that than never, right?

"

"So, you want us to come..."

"

It's not an interrogation or anything. I just sit down with you and Caitlyn and we talk about what factors help make a marriage work or not work, and which parts you guys are good at and which parts you may need to look out for in the future. How does that sound to you?

"

Clergy made Jon nervous, but he had to admit that, if he and Caitlyn were to make this work, they could use this sort of advice. "That sounds like a good idea, si— Reve— Larry."

Caitlyn mouthed,

Sirrevellary?

"

All right then. Let me run it by Caitlyn, but, hypothetically, shall we say in an hour?

"

"That, uh. That sounds fine to me." They'd have to shower quickly, but he thought they could make it.

"

Alrighty then. Pass me on back to Caitlyn, if you would be so kind.

"

Caitlyn took the phone back. "Hello?... Yeah?... Umm... Actually, yes, that does sound smart. And Jon agreed?... Really? Wow. All right... Okay, an hour it is. Thanks, Reverend!"

She folded the phone up. "We gotta hurry."

They did. They showered together, but for the sake of efficiency there was no playing around; one applied soap while the other huddled under the water. Jon ceded the hair-dryer to Caitlyn, who had a lot more of it, and simply turned on a small fan to hasten his own drying process while he checked his e-mail. He was a little chilly, but it did the job. By 10:05, they were out the door.

To reach Reverend Pendleton's office, they had to go through the Sanctuary, which was what Caitlyn's denomination called their church. Jon had never quite felt comfortable here. When there was a service going, he could blend into the crowd, and besides he had Caitlyn to countenance his presence. But right now the Sanctuary was empty—it was, after all, Wednesday morning—and he heard his own echoing footsteps as an invasion of holy ground.

"I don't belong here," he whispered to Caitlyn.

"Nonsense," she said. "Everyone belongs here. That's the

point

of Christianity."

"Even a heathen sinner like me?"

"

Especially

a heathen sinner. Jon, we were

all

heathen sinners at one point. None of us were born pure. None of us were born Christian. Christ knows that. It's not about living a sinless life; that's impossible. It's about finding salvation in Jesus Christ."

"Yeah," said Jon. "And there's

another

reason I'm not Catholic anymore."

Before she could respond to this, they reached Larry Pendleton's office, and he greeted them at the door. "Welcome, Mr. Stanford. Welcome,

Mrs.

Stanford. And, as a Methodist, may I say: it's

very

smart not to be Catholic."

Jon felt his eyebrows climbing up into his hair. Larry Pendleton gave them a grin and ushered them into his office.

For a few minutes there was only formalities and pleasantries, small talk and banter. Lawrence Pendleton had always had been a somewhat drawn man, pale of coloring, and thin as though his faith had emaciated him. This, combined with his preaching, had always given Jon the impression of someone who was, to be perfectly blunt, rather fanatic in his faith. But here he was also personable, and friendly, and charming. He had charisma, of course; a man needed that, to be a successful minister. But he was not cloistered away from the world in the way Jon, with his Catholic upbringing, had been taught was appropriate for members of the clergy. He was able to connect with them, and meet them on their terms.

"I must admit, this is an interesting occasion for me," said Reverend Pendleton. "The first time I met you, Caitlyn, you were... Twelve, I think? It was back up in Washington State. And you were just

dwarfed

by that giant harp of yours." She was still a good eleven inches shy of it. "But boy, your playing. Do you remember the applause? And then when I was transferred here, and your grandparents and your family took the opportunity to move as well..." He shook his head. "It's almost like trying to sit here and advise my daughter Kim on

her

marriage. Which would be kind of scary, because she's only sixteen.

"Of course, you're not even twenty-two yet, Caitlyn, and yet here you are. You guys both went to Greenfield University, right? My friend Katrina says she knows a few people down there who are already married, but on the whole, we don't get it. What's up in your generation, that you folks are starting so early?"

"Well," said Caitlyn. "We were planning to wait for at least another year and a half, until I got my Master's degree. But... Things happened."

"But things happened," Rev. Pendleton agreed, nodding. "Boy, how often that seems to be the case. I remember the rush when my friend Dawn got pregnant. This was back when

I

had just gone through college—you know, 'round the age of the dinosaurs. Well, everyone knew Dawn and Jeremy were meant for each other, so in some ways the marriage was just a formality. And what do you know? Megan is a wonderful, beautiful twenty-year-old, just as kind as her mother and as wise as her father. Or, at least, as near as we can tell. They stayed up in New England, so Amber and I don't get to see them as much as we'd like."

Jon's curiosity was piqued. "This friend of yours—"

"Dawn Graves," said Rev. Pendleton.

"She got pregnant

before

she was married? And... That wasn't problematic for you?" He was thinking specifically of the Christian taboo on pre-marital sex.

Lawrence Pendleton did not disappoint him. "Well... I don't think it's smart," he said. "I mean, the writers of the Bible put things in for a reason, not just on a whim. But it wasn't really my place, you know? I'm not Jeremy, I'm not Dawn, and what I decide for myself, or what Amber and I decide for ourselves, has nothing to do with what the Graveses decide, or the Stantons, or anyone we know. I think it's a personal thing. I think it's between you and God. Now, Dawn and Jeremy might have some explaining to do when they meet Him, but again, that's their choice. And in terms of harm... Well, it would've been nice if they'd waited, but they did get married, they're

still

married, I have no doubt their children are wonderful people... It could have been much worse. And I'm sure He'll take that into account.

"I think what Jeremy said they decided was, it'll happen sooner or later, so why not sooner? Well, to prove you can hold off, is why, but again, that's between you and God. They didn't ask me what I thought, so I didn't tell them; I just prayed that things would turn out okay. And, in this case, God has been kind enough to grant us that prayer."

Jon was impressed, despite himself.

"Why," said Rev. Pendleton, his eyes twinkling, "is there some pre-marital iniquity you and Caitlyn needed to discuss?"

"What?" said Jon. "Oh, no, not... Caitlyn was very... Steadfast."

"Which must've been hard for you," said Rev. Pendleton.

"Well... Yes, to some extent," said Jon. "I mean, there's this rock song out on the Internet called

Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me

—you know, 'Does anybody else get that feeling?' And I think that really adequately expresses the... I mean, it makes you feel like something's wrong with you, you know? How come all these other people, who aren't any better or smarter or kinder or... Or maybe they

are

smarter, because they aren't dating someone who wants to save herself for marriage. Either way, it doesn't make you feel good about yourself. You start wondering what's wrong with you."

Caitlyn was looking at him in clear disbelief.

"But, on the other hand... No, it wasn't all that hard," said Jon. "You have to realize, the first time I brought up the idea of marrying Caitlyn was... Within about four weeks of our first date. We've been bandying this idea around for a

long

time. And the first thing we agreed on was that we

were

going to get married. So when Caitlyn says, 'Not until then,' it's sort of a 'No,' but at the same time, it's also a 'Yes, just, not now.' And that's a

lot

easier to deal with than a flat-out 'No,' especially a 'No' that isn't being

said

by anyone because you're not actually dating, much less planning your wedding."

Reverend Pendleton nodded. "It is. I remember those nights very well. Sometimes I'd sit and pray to God, and His answer would be, 'No.' Which isn't very easy to accept, no matter

who

says it. Caitlyn, I know Jon was your first boyfriend. Didn't you ever feel that way?—like maybe there was something wrong with you?"

Caitlyn, who still had the remains of a first-class gape on her face, said, "Well... Yes, kind of, but..."

"But not about sex," said Jon.

"There's nothing wrong with that," said Rev. Pendleton. "I forget who did this study, but they found out that the average male thinks about sex once a minute. The average female, on the other hand, thinks about it maybe five times a day. Men are just more preoccupied with sex. It's genetic."

"It was more about... Just, relationships in general," said Caitlyn. "Even my homeschool friends managed to meet people and get dates and all. What did they have that I didn't? I could never figure it out, and God wasn't saying much."

"The hard thing about God is that He sends us what we need, which may or may not be what we want," Rev. Pendleton agreed. Jon was surprised again.

"Well. The

good

news is, that's all behind you. The two of you are married, and happily so, at first glance. Now let's talk about how to keep you that way.

"The way most relationships start is with two things: physical attraction and some common interest. Jon, you see a girl, or Caitlyn, you see a guy, and you think, 'Ooh, looks good. I would want to,' as the kids say nowadays, 'get with that.'" He pronounced it with such precise diction that the newlyweds had to laugh. "That's how you know to talk to them. Then you get a chance to actually talk, and you find out you both have something in common. That's how a lot of these things start.

"But we all know that physical attractiveness is no good rubric of relational success. I happen to think Eva Longoria is an extremely attractive woman, but that doesn't mean we would get along." Jon was surprised; he had met Amber Pendleton, who was Caitlyn's height but easily twice her weight, and the woman had nothing in common with Eva Longoria. "Common habits are good too, but not enough either; both Hitler and Churchill enjoyed painting, and we all know how

that

turned out. So what makes for the foundations of a good marriage?"

He looked at Caitlyn and Jon in turn; they had no answer for him.

"The answer is shared values," said Rev. Pendleton. "The most important determining factor in a stable marriage is whether the husband and wife want the same things out of their lives. If they hold the same beliefs and are united in their goals, they are far more likely to weather the inevitable crises of their lives together.

"Have you two ever talked about this before?"

Jon felt a wave of relief. He'd noticed many years ago that he was looking for a woman who was almost identical to him, and had worried for a long time whether he was crazy, or maybe just narcissistic. But at the same time, he was a little embarrassed, because... "No, not really. We, um. Well, we talked about our lives—about what we might want to see in our futures, but... Never in much detail." What a stupid idea was that?

"Well, no time like the present," said Rev. Pendleton, smiling broadly to cover up the shock he must certainly be feeling. "Jon, why don't you go first, then? Tell us what you'd like to see in your life."

Oh, wait, now I remember why we never talked about it.

"Well..." This was really embarrassing. "There's a video game called

The Sims

where you get to basically invent and control these simulated people. You make them cook, you make them eat, you make them go to their jobs... It's just real life, but it's crazily addictive, no one knows why. Recently they've come up with a way to factor in mood and self-esteem. The Sim has slots for Hopes and Fears. Fulfilling a Hope—fall in love, have first kiss, kids get into a good school, stuff like that—adds self-esteem points, fulfilling a Fear subtracts them. If the bar gets too far into the red, they go nuts—literally, they start going bonkers and this psychologist has to come and straighten them out.

"The thing that determines which specific Hopes and Fears pop up, is the Sim's Aspiration, which is their overall life goal. There's six basic Aspirations: Knowledge, Wealth, Family, Romance, Popularity and Pleasure, or maybe just Comfort. —Oh, and, Grilled Cheese, but you only get that if they use a machine that malfunctions."

Rev. Pendleton laughed. "Grilled Cheese as a life goal. Well, I'm sure stranger things have happened."

"So," said Caitlyn, squinting at him. He'd taught her to play

The Sims

, only to be alarmed by the truly dysfunctional characters she made. And then set on fire. "I guess you'd be... I dunno, Knowledge, maybe, or Wealth."

Jon felt his face heating. "I'm a Family Sim."

It felt so feminine to him. Wasn't a man supposed to be brawny and resilient? Not sensitive, not touchy-feely, not... "And you have to understand, there's a blurring going on. 'Romance' Aspiration is really more of a Promiscuity Aspiration. Hopes include being in love with three people, having sex with more than three people—not at once, but over the course of their lifetime. Things like that. Whereas all the things that are

normally

ascribed to romance—true love, soul mates, happily-ever-after, house-with-picket-fence, stuff like that—go into Family instead. So, what am I? I'm a Family Sim. I'm a die-hard romantic. And that sort of thing is what I want from my life."

In later years, he would be totally surprised he could say all that with a straight face. An utterly red one, yes—but a straight one.