Kelly worked her hand into the thick, curly hair of the young man with whom she was lying on her bed, and nudged his head closer to where she wanted it.
She was lying on her side, one of the few positions in which her small, pert breasts formed any cleavage. And that's where Rory was focusing his attention, his lips nuzzling and kissing her there. Instead of moving four inches in either direction to grasp one of her aching nipples between his lips. Or his teeth.
But he interpreted her guidance differently, and instead, he pushed himself up until they were face to face again, and sought out her lips for another one of his soft, lingering, languorous kisses.
She loved those kisses. She wasn't getting tired of them. But she wanted more.
"Kelly, there's something I need to tell you," he finally said. "I'm not a virgin."
Thank God, she thought. But she understood what he was telling her, what a risk he probably felt he was taking by being truthful. He was so sweet, so respectful, so honest.
"Mmm," she replied, breathily, into his ear. "That's okay.
"I'm... I'm not, either."
He nodded and, thankfully, drew her more tightly into his embrace.
"That's okay, too," he whispered. "I... I don't mind."
She rolled her eyes behind her closed lids. She wasn't completely comfortable with the pedestal upon which he had obviously placed her. But she wasn't completely uncomfortable with it, either. At least her non-virginity wasn't a deal-breaker for him.
They kissed again. Long, slowly, their tongues intertwining between their only-partially open lips. Their bodies moved, sensually, against each other. She brought her top leg up over his thigh, their jeans rustling against each other. He emitted a soft moan.
She liked making him moan.
"May I... I mean, would it be okay if I undid my pants?" he ventured.
"I'd like that," she responded.
He reached down between them and fumbled with his belt, and then the button and zipper of his pants. She waited a moment, then let her hand follow his.
She reached down inside his boxers and felt his hot erection against the back of her hand. Then she twisted her wrist and closed her fingers around him, lightly, so she could move her hand up and down and take the measure of him.
Nice, she thought. So pleasingly hard. And more than adequately long, she thought with a blush. Not as thick as Malcolm -- she twitched with guilt at thinking of the other guy she had been with most recently -- but certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Yay.
She felt his hand moving up and down her side, from her rib cage to her hip, and back again. Not yet moving to the button on her jeans. They continued to kiss, her hand softly stroking up and down his turgid shaft.
"I wish you could stay," she murmured.
"I do, too."
She understood. He was living at home with his parents this summer. He wouldn't be able to explain spending the night with a girl, a young woman in an off-campus apartment no less. His parents had to know that during the school year he might do that, seven nights a week. They had to know that their golden boy had very likely lost his virginity by now. But it was one thing to maintain a don't ask/don't tell situation with your parents, and another to rub their noses in it. She would probably be taking the same approach if she was still living at home.
"Next month when I'm back on campus..."
"Yeah," she said. She didn't put a question mark on it.
"Yeah?" he responded, hopefully.
"Yeah," she confirmed, and drew him closer to her.
She understood. She really did. He wanted to save their first full-fledged sexual encounter for a night when they could then fall asleep in each other's arms. And she felt an incredibly warm appreciation, something approaching love, for that.
At the very least, she thought, once the two of them were in bed together for hours, in just their boxers and panties, if not naked, with no clock running and no need for him to get home soon, it would be so much easier and natural for him to let go and let them come together. She would make sure she had condoms, even if he didn't, and even though she didn't want to use them. Just to avoid any more postponements.
After a while he sat up and reluctantly said, "It's really getting late. I need to hit the road."
They chatted a few more minutes. She walked him down the stairs. They lingered there for several more minutes, kissing. Not exactly chastely, but he was obviously holding back. Eventually he gave her one more hug and then headed for his car. She waited on the stoop to wave one more time as he pulled away, then climbed back up the stairs to her apartment.
Well, Rory had made his intentions clear. She had no doubt that he wanted to be intimate with her, although he had made no movement toward discussing what expectations went along with that. He had affirmed that he wanted to spend the night in her bed, once he was back on campus.
He had offered up the fact that he wasn't a virgin. No doubt, that was a nerve-wracking admission for him. But apparently something he felt he needed to get off his chest. Frankly, she was relieved to hear it. She had taken the opportunity to make the same admission back to him, potentially opening the floodgates to further questioning, but he had not pursued it.
.
All in all, the whole exchange made perfect sense, in terms of what she had come to expect from Rory. He wanted to be honest about something that was obviously a big deal for him. He hadn't asked her to reciprocate. He hadn't pushed her for detials.
And frankly, if he had pushed her for details, well... she wouldn't have liked that, and he wouldn't have been Rory. She didn't feel she should need to justify herself; that, at age 21 and after three years of college, she had gone to bed with three sequential steady boyfriends and had one lingering meaningless fling. If Rory thought that was excessive, well, she would have been disappointed in him. But the fact was, he didn't even ask. He needed to unburden himself to be sure she would accept him. He seemed willing to accept her, embrace her, no matter what.
