"I'm sorry, but I seem a bit thick at the moment." She smiled.
"Don't worry. I haven't much practice with talking to boys. What are you studying?" Her confession and understanding helped me to finally get my tongue undone from the knot it was in and allowed me to talk with slightly more ease than before.
"English language, Literature and Art."
"Are you doing well in English language?" She was grinning.
"It would appear not. Perhaps I need more practice."
"Well your getting better."
That was the start of a emotional journey that I travelled for years, and am still travelling. It may seem strange to some that I got tongue-tied. You really have to blame the education system of that era in the UK. After the eleven-plus exam, those boys and girls who were deemed suitable for higher education were separated into different single sex schools. The resultant was that they emerged into the world, heads full of knowledge apart from the vital subject of knowing how to talk with these strange creatures of the opposite sex. It was even worse if you went on to study for University entrance, as I was doing. Young men, with hormones demanding attention, and little knowledge of how to create any kind of relationship with the member of the opposite sex. Crazy! Here I was at eighteen gauche and uncertain with a girl who was the same age as me. I looked as if I should be at ease with girls, two inches under six foot, brown hair, that would, if I let it get long, flow back from my brow in corrugated waves, I didn't want that so I kept it short almost a crew cut. I had been skinny for most of my life, but at last I was filling out quickly. I would not describe myself as handsome, that was for others to say, but my face was regular and symmetric. So it never sent anyone away screaming in fright. Now having screwed up my courage I was going to see if I could relate to Gill with a 'G'.
Gill and I would see each other everyday after that first faltering start. We would travel in to Birmingham in the morning, and I would wait for her to get out of work in the evening. Gill's father had died two years before we met. Typically of British companies at that time there was no company life assurance, and the state would only pay a meagre amount in widows pension. So Gill, despite being of above average intelligence had to leave school and find a job to help with the family expenses. She worked with the Inland Revenue doing mundane clerking work that did not in any way challenge her intellect.
We did go to the cinema from time to time, but money was always a problem, most of her wages were needed at home, and I of course wasn't earning anything, my time being full with study. During holidays I would get part-time employment, with the postal service at Christmas, and with various stores at other times. So Gill and I would enjoy all the pastimes that cost nothing like walking in the countryside and sitting in the park people watching. We would amuse ourselves making up fantasy stories about the others we saw there. These fantasies were not malicious, even so I suspect that the stories we made up would not amuse those who were the subject. Yes there was another pastime that cost nothing, but in those days girls usually went on their honeymoon as virgins. The pill was available, But a girl needed her parent's permission to get a prescription, and how many would do that? Very few young men of my age had the confidence to walk into a chemist or a Barbers to buy condoms. So sex was not on the menu. I tried, of course I tried, we spent many happy hours kissing and cuddling but apart from allowing me to fondle her breasts from outside her clothing, Gill had no intention of allowing further intimacy. She did seem to enjoy my caressing her breasts though, so I, who had only ever felt one girl's breasts before, was content.
Eventually the time came when I went away to university. Gill and I were both in tears at the thought of this separation, and for a while I had thought not to go. My parents were adamant that I would go, and Gill, who would have found a place at University easily, were it not for her family's circumstances added her voice to that of my parents. Sadly I packed the clothes and books I would need for the first term (Semester). I had been accepted at Cambridge, and there was very little chance of getting back to see Gill until the end of term. I think my unhappiness at being away from Gill, on my own without family to back me, and the new world I had entered was the cause of my inability to fit in that first term. I came home that Christmas determined that I would not return. Some hopes. Gill while delighted to see me, would not hear of my dropping out. We talked long and hard, and eventually she convinced me. It also helped that she allowed me more intimacy than hitherto. She had unbuttoned her blouse and allowed me to slip my hand inside her brassiere. Her breast sitting beautifully soft and warm in my hand was a powerful argument. Our kisses reached a new high in passion. I persuaded myself that another term would have me enjoy even more of her.
We exchanged letters on a weekly basis. It was frustrating for me as although I was studying for a BA in English Language and Literature, I seemed unable to express in writing what my heart and emotions wanted me to say, so my letters were generally about what I was doing and studying that week. Her letters were chatty, catching me up on all that was happening, but always expressed her loneliness without me, and how much she looked forward to seeing me again. I had now settled at Cambridge, becoming used to my surroundings and the systems. Studies were going well. But I looked forward to the spring break, with aroused anticipation for what Gill would allow me next.
Aroused anticipation was not telling me the truth. Gill would allow nothing more than she had at Christmas. She must have a will of iron. My hand inside her bra was obviously getting to her, her nipples erected stiffly, and her gasps as I rubbed them with my thumb and forefinger told the story, yet when my free hand wandered slowly up her skirt, I managed to find the top of her stocking (long before pantyhose, happy days!) but there she clamped her legs together so tightly my hand felt it was caught in a Mangle. She had her limits, and I had to respect them.
"Andy, I want to do all these things with you, but think how much better it will be when we are married. We can go to bed on our marriage night and I will be naked for you. All we want then, we can have, without shame." Fine I thought, but that doesn't help me now with this raging erection.
I had little doubt that I loved Gill, nor that she loved me. The tears when we parted for me to go back to Cambridge were without doubt genuine. The way she clung to me, knowing I had to go, yet extracting the last ounce of contact before I boarded the train. Our partings were painful, and the greetings when I returned ecstatic. Neither of us questioned that we would be married as soon as I gained my degree. Yet the three years at Cambridge asked for and received a heavy toll. It was the third Christmas that I went round to see Gill. She had gone down with a really heavy cold, and was in bed. Her mum was just going out, and asked me to make Gill a hot lemon drink. I took the drink upstairs and knocked on her door. I knew which bedroom she slept in, but had never been in.
"It's OK Andy. I'm decent." That was a blow. I opened the door and went in. Gill was sitting up in bed, wearing a nightgown. I knew that she hadn't made a mistake, as she let her arms fall to the side offering me the view. The nightgown was diaphanous, and her breasts and erect nipples could be clearly seen through the fabric. She smiled at me, a smile of welcome and apprehension. Heavy cold or no, I had to kiss her. I put the drink down on the bedside table and sat, leaning forward to draw her into my arms. She gave me her lips willingly, and as we kissed sought and found my hand and placed it on her breast.
"Touch me, Andy." I did. Caressing her breast in the manner I had before. Her moans told me that it pleased her, but her next action told me even more. She again found my hand, and slipped it through the opening of the gown finding once again that pinnacled jewel. She moved a little, and as if of it's own accord her nightgown opened, exposing those two feminine moons as never before. I moved down and took her nipples one by one in my mouth. Gently suckling and nipping. Her gasps were more frequent and at a higher volume now.
"That's so good. I didn't ever imagine that your mouth on my breasts would be so exciting." More movement as she kicked at the bedclothes, then lifted my mouth from her breasts, asking me without words to look at her. The gown was parted all the way to its bottom hem, and Gill lay there naked, unashamed. Her breasts didn't slip to the side, there wasn't enough of them to do that, her stomach was quite flat so her hip bones raised gently either side like small hills, and there was that little patch of curly hair, guarding, yet highlighting the treasure between her legs. As if of their own accord her legs opened, and the lips of her vulva unstuck and spread.
"Gill, you are so beautiful." She smiled happily, knowing that her body pleased me. I understood what Gill was offering me. Years of tormented lust urged me to explore her depths and take her. But Love asked a different question. I knew that it was Gill's wish to come to our marriage bed a virgin. If I loved her, how could I not allow her to make the gift she longed to give. I also knew that later I would hate myself for this, but I had no choice. I leaned down and placed a kiss on her cleft, she smelt wonderful, then I pulled the bedclothes up to cover her.
"Gill, I love you. I love you enough to want the same thing that you want. Both of us coming to our marriage bed as virgins. Believe me it is painful not to take advantage now. But you have been clear about what you want all these years. I will graduate in six months, we have waited for four years, can we not wait another few months?" The apprehension left Gills face to be replaced with a calm loving smile.
