Chapter Nine
Alan was the first to return from the Summer break. Remember, I had taken this job in July. It was interesting to watch his face when he walked in, Aaron introduced me as his (Alan's) wife, and I followed with a serious kiss.
His eyes were big as I took his hand and led him to my bedroom. Then I did something I rarely do - I closed the door.
I laid my palms on his cheeks and smiled at him.
"Alan," I said, "it's real. The Fraternity proposed, I said 'yes,' and now I am your wife too."
I could see his eyes go out of focus as he tried to take it all in.
"If you want me that is," I said, eyes downcast.
It was quiet for almost a minute.
I smiled and kissed him again, very softly this time, and then sank to my knees.
I took his hand and kissed it and held it to my cheek as I smiled into his eyes and said, "how may I please you, my husband."
I could see acceptance finally come into his eyes and he smiled.
He used his hand to grasp mine and pull me to my feet and then I watched as a smile spread, showing me the boy he had been not so very long ago.
He just held my hand like that, and held my eyes with his, for several long beats.
Then he chuckled.
"At least the Fraternity has good taste," he said, making me giggle.
"You are beautiful, my bride," he said very softly and then took me into his arms and kissed me.
It was a good kiss.
Oh, hell, it was a great kiss. He knew how to kiss and he put his heart into it. It was a kiss that left me breathless and wanting him.
And obviously, he wanted me.
I liked that he undressed me, slowly, and took the time to kiss the skin he revealed.
I loved the way he told me, over and over, that I was beautiful.
I absolutely adored the way he seemed to know all of my special spots even though this was our first time.
When he had me naked, and had stepped back and made a production of looking me up and down, he guided me to the bed, using his hands only, no words.
"Honey," I started but he put a finger to my lips and whispered "shhhhhhhh" very softly.
So I laid quietly, trying to hold still, while he started, well, inspecting me is a good way to put it.
He started at my toes. He would gently touch and squeeze and play with each one. He would trace the shape of the nail before giving a soft kiss and then move on to the next.
I couldn't help but squeal and jerk when he drug his finger across my arch where my feet are terribly ticklish. When I got under control he kissed the arch and then the instep, the ankle, the shin, the knee.
Then he stopped and moved back down to repeat the process starting with the other foot.
And he was getting to me.
I managed to lay still, as he had asked, but I could feel my hands forming into claws with the intensity of what he was doing to me and he hadn't even reached what you usually think of as erogenous zones.
Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore and did a sit-up, grabbed his hands, and pulled him to me as I laid back.
"Where," I breathed after I finished a kiss, "did you learn that?"
He grinned, kissed me, and then said "it's a bit of a long story, Becky. I'll tell you another time but, honestly..."
And he kissed me again.
"I think it's time to quit fooling around."
He rolled out of bed, athletically quick before I could grab him. He grinned as he started undressing.
No, it wasn't just undressing, it was a striptease and you could almost hear the music as his hips swayed and he caught the beat he was obviously hearing when he peeled the shirt off over his head. There was that awkward two-step while he untied and kicked free of his shoes and then he pushed his slacks down and stepped out of them. Another little awkward step when he peeled off his socks and then he stood before me, in just his boxers.
He looked good. Muscular but not muscle-bound. More a swimmer or a tennis player than a football player or wrestler.
He turned his back and pushed the boxers down, slowly, wiggling his slim ass.
When he turned his interest was obvious.
He wasn't big, actually a bit on the small side, but his erection stood straight up.
I held my arms out in invitation, but he wasn't done yet.
He parted my legs, quite gently actually, and kissed his way up my inner thighs.
"Open yourself," he said, his voice soft but commanding.
So I did as he asked. I laid my palms at the juncture of my thighs, the fingertips at my labia, and parted myself, offering myself to him.
He smiled and bent, blowing softly, his breath tickling, making me squirm.
"Wider," he whispered, looking up at me over the thatch of hair and the roundness of my belly.
Again, I did as he asked. My fingertips were inside of me now, and I pulled myself open.
"Beautiful," he said, "now push. I want to kiss your cervix."
I was gasping by then, trying to catch my breath.
"W-w-w-w-what?" I managed.
"Push," he repeated, "as you did when you delivered."
I remembered being in the delivery room and found those muscles. It was difficult because it's the same nerve group involved when you're dealing with your constipation and I most certainly did NOT want to fart in his face.