Chapter 2
Earlier that evening, Richard Bristol walked into the spacious living room of his home and announced that he was going out-taking Laura to the movies.
His father lowered his evening paper and said with studied casualness, "You're seeing an awful lot of Laura, aren't you?"
Richard shrugged. "Quite a bit."
"Surely you're not serious about her."
"Why, of course not," his mother cut in, looking up from her needlework. "Laura's just a child. How old is she. sixteen? Seventeen?"
"She'll be eighteen in October," Richard said.
His father nodded as if something significant had been stated. "Son, I don't want to criticize you or worry you, but I know for a fact that Mr. Dale has been worried about the amount of time you and Laura have been spending together. I'm sure it's nothing against you personally-he simply holds the view that young people are apt to let their emotions run away with them-"
"Oh, Dad, he's scared over every guy that takes Laura out on a date!"
"He has good reason," his mother said. "Look at his older daughter, Doris. Before she got married, she had a reputation as one of the wildest girls in Adamsville-"
"And now she's a respectable young matron," Richard said, "with three kids, and death on sin." He was warmed and pleased by his father's laugh.
"I wasn't criticizing Doris," his mother said. "She's a dear, fine girl and a treasure to the Altar Guild."
Richard started for the door. "I've got to get going."
"By the way, Richard," his father's voice followed him, the tone again studiedly casual, "when are you going on that camping trip you talked about? I thought that was why you bought the station wagon."
"I don't know, Dad. I kind of lost my interest for the time being. See you later."
He hurried out of the house to his Nova and headed it down the long drive toward the street and toward Laura's house.
There wasn't going to be any camping trip. A camping trip would take him away from Laura, and the idea of not having her nearby was unbearable. Though he had known her all his life, he had noticed her for the first time only last Easter, when he'd come home from school for the weekend. Before that she had been a kid, a daughter of family friends: in the sixth grade when he entered high school, an unimportant freshman when he was a senior. Then at Easter he had seen her as a girl turning into a young woman-a small dark young woman, full-bosomed, round buttocked, and long-legged. Back at school, he had thought about her, and some of his thoughts had made him sweat.
Still he had thought of her as a kid until he came home for summer vacation. The very day he bought the wagon, he asked Laura out for a drive to show it off. They talked and laughed and he found her exceptionally bright, and by the time they got back to her house, they were in love.
Within two weeks, he asked her to marry him. She said she wanted to but couldn't, not yet. She had to get through college first-not only was it expected of her, but Richard wouldn't want to marry a "dumbunny." Richard had an answer to that. He had an independent income of about six thousand a year from a trust fund settled on him by his maternal grandmother, and he'd get the capital when he finished his education: a mininum of a four-year degree. He had now completed his pre-med and while he was going through med school, she could be going through college. They could live together and not be dependent upon anyone.
But there was another difficulty. The age of legal majority for women in this state was eighteen, and Laura wouldn't be able to marry without her parents' consent for another three months, at which time he and Laura would both be back in school-not the most convenient time for a marriage ceremony and an impossible time for any kind of a honeymoon. It looked as if any wedding would have to be held off at least until Christmas and perhaps even longer.
Richard argued with Laura that the only sensible thing to do was to ask her father for his consent immediately, but she had argued back that to do so was futile, since he would never give it. The only result would be to make him try to break them up, and he showed all the signs of wanting to do that already. Only because the two families were lifelong friends did he tolerate Richard.
Actually, in his secret heart Richard was somewhat relieved when Laura balked at facing up to her father. He felt that he should make a stand-declare his love for Laura and present his reasons for immediate marriage-but the thought of bearding the lion in his den was rather unnerving, and Richard wondered if he were a coward. He felt that at twenty-one he should be all manliness and confidence, but the fact was that plenty of adolescent worries still clung to him. He even worried occasionally about such things as whether he might be oversexed or undersexed. Richard had a great many uncertainties and, at twenty-one, he would have been a damned fool if he hadn't. But that didn't help any when it came to handling Mr. Dale.
When he pulled the Nova up the long circular drive of the Dale home, Laura was already at the door, looking very young and fresh and clean in her blue summer dress. He met her on the porch, and she tried to hustle him away from the house, but Mr. Dale was quickly out through the door, his long white double spike of a mustache quivering.
"Oh? You two going out again?"
"Yes, Father. To a movie."
"To a drive-in, I suppose. That's where all the young people seem to go these days."
"Yes, Father, there's a good picture playing-"
"Oh, I'm sure, I'm sure," Mr. Dale said, scepticism in every syllable. "Just see to it that you don't keep her out too late, young man. And you." He turned to his daughter. "You know how to behave yourself-see that you do. You're no common little...." His voice wavered and he didn't complete the sentence.
"Yes, Father. I'll be all right."
Mr. Dale seemed to relent. "All right, have a good time, both of you." Laura kissed his cheek, Richard shook his hand, and the two went to the station wagon.
As they drove away, Richard, feeling a little embarrassed, said, "My God, he acts like I'm some kind of potential rapist or a cold-blooded seducer or something!"
"Oh, he really likes you, Richard," Laura assured him, "but he's sort of scared where love is concerned. Especially love and me."
"What's so terrible about love?" Richard brooded. "Love is important in marriage. I don't say that's everything, but that's pretty basic, and I can't think of a better way of expressing feeling. I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that you affect me and that I want to love you. If I didn't, there'd be something pretty wrong with me, and I'd do better seeing a doctor than trying to become one."
"I know, dear," Laura said, laying her head on his shoulder. "And I want to love you too. And someday we will. We'll have love and children and a home of our own and all of the good things. But meanwhile we have to be careful. You know what I mean."
Richard knew very well. An incident had occurred.
Less than a month ago, the two of them had spent part of another evening at a drive-in. Once it was quite dark, they started necking. Richard knew from Laura's initial clumsiness that she was not too experienced, but she was quite passionate by nature and easily excited.
As the necking became more intense, they started petting. He ran fingers down the top of her dress; he caressed her breasts through layers of material. She was shocked and frightened, but she accepted his assurance that that was all right because they were in love and planning to be married. He told her it would be strange if they didn't want to touch one another and try to do so, and she became very nearly as active in the petting as he. She didn't object when he at last raised her skirt. She ground her body against his and bruised his mouth with hers. But when Richard reached for the waist of her panties, she pushed his hand away.
The farther Richard went, the farther he wanted to go. He whispered into Laura's ear. "Please, I only want to touch you. Let me take some of your clothes off...."
"No," her frightened breathless whisper came back. "We mustn't, Richard."
"I love you, Laura, I won't hurt you. Just your panties, your bra, so I can touch you."
"Richard, I don't want to do that. Not until we're married."
"I know that. I'm not asking that. Only to touch you." Again he petted her. "You're so sweet, I want to touch you."
Her breathing was coming harder. "I want to touch you, too. Touch you and see you. But we don't dare, not here. Oh Richard, isn't there some place where we can go?"
He thought for a long minute, and then the answer came to him. "Yes," he said, "I think there is."
He hadn't thought of the place in years and he wasn't sure if he could find it or even if it still existed. He had discovered it one day in his sixteenth year while out hiking, and he had never mentioned it to anyone. He had preferred to keep it in mind for plans of elaborate seductions which never took place. Richard didn't have a great deal of experience. He had been seduced once by a high school tramp, had another while drunk, had had a couple of similar experiences in college, and had once visited a disorderly house-and worried for weeks afterward. Anyway, he thought of the place now.
Laura was disturbed when she saw that they were going through a lovers' lane, but Richard told her that this wasn't the place he had in mind. He found the nearly hidden turn-off without much difficulty and discovered that by moving a tree limb he could hide the wagon in the brush and, with the limb back in place, no one would ever know.
He took a blanket from the wagon and led Laura deeper into the woods. There were several clearings, but he was looking for one that was particularly well hidden. When he found it, he spread the blanket out on the ground, and he and Laura sat down.
Their ardor had somewhat diminished but was quickly revived. They rolled in one another's arms, and their hearts pounded. They began to pet again, slowly, and Richard unbuttoned Laura's lightweight sweater. He reached down the back of her slip and unhooked her bra, and she loosened her slip strap. Then, for the first time, he brought out one great ripe breast, its tip big and high in the moonlight, and he gripped and smoothed and set the breast to throbbing. When at last he brought a kiss to it, Laura murmured her pleasure.
He petted her under her skirt for some minutes before reaching for the waistband of her panties. She released her hold on him and lay back, lifting her hips slightly, so that he could lower her panties. But when he got them down to her knees, she suddenly bent her legs so that he couldn't take them off.
"Let's take off all our clothes," he whispered.
"No ... No more."
And that was all she would consent to. Out of fear or some remnant modesty, she insisted that they keep their clothes for the most part on, though she let him touch her where he pleased.
He touched her again, as she shook and breathed hard through her mouth. "Let me hold you," she demanded.
And so they held one another. She held him loosely, and he petted her gently, making her tremble more and more until at last she cried out, "Oh! Richard!" And when her body had subsided, he kept on petting her until he had brought her to a peak once again.
Then she said, "Oh, Richard, that was wonderful! Richard, was that good for you, too?"
He couldn't help laughing. "Honey, nothing happened to me yet."
"No?" she looked astonished, unbelieving.
"Honey, think about what you've read in books, and you'll know."
In the moonlight, her expression was puzzled and thoughtful. "I remember vaguely. Then I've got to help you, don't I. Oh, Richard, let me help you! You've got to enjoy this, too!"
With that, she reached for him again, and her soft gentle hand sent a shock over him.
"Is that good, Richard? Is that good?"
"So good...."
"I like you, baby, oh I like this...."
Some female instinct told her exactly how to do what she was doing. She leaned over him and thrust a breast against his mouth, and she crooned, "This's so good ... isn't this good ... let's make this good for my darling, my sweet love...."
Then he was torn apart, and she laughed with delight. "Why, you dear sweet thing," she said, "you're wonderful. I never dreamed that a man was such a wonderful thing!"
"This man, above all."
They had a couple of cigarettes and talked, and then, when he began again, the bad thing happened, the thing that almost spoiled everything. He touched her and inspired by his own reviving passion, touched her more passionately, and he didn't stop.
Not until she cried out in pain.
He hadn't hurt her badly, but she was scared and sobered by what had happened. And when she realized what that meant-that in a certain limited technical sense she was no longer a virgin-she wept. Perhaps many girls no longer think that concept worth their tears, but Laura was not one of them.
They rode back to her house, their mood subdued and quiet. In the parked car, they kissed tenderly and warmly. But before they parted, Laura said, "That mustn't happen again, Richard. We've got to be more careful. I don't regret a thing that's happened tonight, please understand that, but you and I are too passionate for our own good, and we don't want to spoil things for ourselves."
"But meanwhile we have to be careful. You know what I mean."
Her words echoed and reechoed in Richard's mind as they sat in the drive-in watching the poor budget detective movie. Laura was so warm and sweet tucked under his arm, and when he looked down he could see the tempting dark hollow of her breasts. As she had told her, he wanted her, wanted her badly, but he respected her wishes, and he didn't want to do anything to frighten her away.
But it was hard keeping his hands away from her. Since that night when he had hurt her, they had kept their petting light: there had been nothing that wouldn't have passed under the bright lights of the women's dorms he was acquainted with back at school, but the memory of the sweeter things of that night about four weeks ago came back in flashes that made him gasp. The velvet breast with the swollen tip, the white panties down on her legs, the tender flesh. The images made him warm.
Thinking of them now, he wanted to be even closer to her than he was. He tried to concentrate on the dull gray images on the giant screen, but the warm feminine presence under his arm kept drawing at him. She, perhaps without conscious thought, placed her left hand lightly on his right leg, and he felt an exquisite tug of muscles. Without a word, he brought his left hand beneath her chin and tilted her head back against his arm, and she smiled at him in the dark. He lowered his head and their lips touched. Their mouths opened and his tongue touched her hard white little teeth. They pressed hard, twisting against one another. "Oh, you took so long," she whispered, laughing, and they kissed again.
After a time, they relaxed, closing their eyes and no longer trying to follow the story flashing across the screen. Laura's left hand lazily scratched his leg, and brought his right arm farther around her so that he could cup her right breast. Laura sighed with contentment and her fingers pressed gently at Richard. Memories of her soft mounds bared again flashed through his mind, and he raised his right arm so that he could slide two fingers down the V-neck of her dress and under her brassiere. He moved them from side to side, stroking the soft inner curve of first one and then the other. They were as smooth as velvet, as soft as firm foam rubber, but as warm and vital as only female flesh can be.
Laura turned in his arms so that his fingers were forced to withdraw, and they exchanged a long shuddering kiss. His left hand went to her right breast and her right hand slid, and she murmured, "Oh, my darling...." As they kissed some more, Richard eased Laura's skirt up over her knees and found the flesh almost as soft as her breasts.
"Richard...." she whispered after a few minutes.
"Yes."
"I've already seen the main feature."
"So have I."
They kissed again and he stroked her legs. They hadn't been this close since that night that seemed a hundred years ago.
"Richard," she went on after a moment, "do you think we could go to our place and not go too far?"
She had never referred to that as "our place" before; she had hardly referred to it at all. But he knew where she meant. "Yes," he said. "Yes, let's go to our place." And he pulled away from her to start the wagon.
They were in luck. He found the turn-off easily, and there were no nearby cars to see them drive into the brush. He took the blanket from the back of the wagon, and within a few minutes they had located the same spot they had visited before.
They spread out the blanket and sat down on it, and, on impulse, Richard kicked off his moccasins and pulled off his socks. Laura saw what he was doing and followed his lead. She had just taken off her saddle shoes and one white bobby sock when she glanced up at him, as he was unfastening the last button on his sport shirt. He wore no undershirt, and his hard, neatly-angled chest was exposed to the moonlight.
"Oh, Richard, Richard," she said with something like a sob, and she flung herself into his arms. They fell back onto the blanket and pressed closely together. He found the top button at the V-neck of her dress and unfastened that. She didn't seem to notice. He went on to undo the other buttons down to her belted waist. Under his hand he found a warm nakedness; she wore only a bra under the top of her dress.
He pulled his mouth away and looked at her, the moonlight flooding into the opening he had made. She reached to touch his chest, his ribs. Her eyes were half closed and drunken.
"Darling," she said, "would you like to see all of me, take my clothes off, see me naked?"
He didn't answer immediately. He brought his mouth to hers again and put his hand into her dress on her ribs. Then he found the bottom of her bra and eased it up, very carefully because it was tight, off her breast. That tended to pinch the breast down and, perhaps because of that, the expanded pink tip seemed to strain higher. He brushed his thumb up over the rigid tip and pinched, and Laura cried out.
"Yes," he said. "I do want to see you naked. I want to see you, darling." His fingers twisted the one exposed tip.
"Take off my clothes," she cried, her legs working. "Strip me naked, Richard, I want to be naked with you. I want you to see everything. And I want to see all of you."
His hand left her breast and fumbled at her belt to get that loose. Then she rose up on her knees, Richard following suit, and she drew her dress up over her head and cast it aside. She reached behind her to unhook her bra, but Richard said, "No, I will." Kneeling before her, he reached around and unfastened the bra, drawing the straps slowly from her shoulders and the cups from their high firm treasures.
She was as beautiful and desirable as anything he had ever seen, as she knelt there in her half slip, naked from the waist up. Even in the moonlight he could see where her light tan left off, leaving the high, up-tilted breasts white and almost shiny, setting off the dark, pointing tips.
"You like me," she said.
"I love you," he affirmed, and he reached out with both hands to raise her breasts, to weigh them, to palm and squeeze them so that the tips emerged past his fingers, to test and move the plumpness of those tips. With a sigh, she pushed his hands away so that she could take his shirt from his shoulders and toss that over with her dress. Then, still kneeling, they were in one another's arms, mouth to mouth and chest to chest, her hard tipped softness crushing between them.
Any semblance of rational thought was gone. What Richard did next was automatic, dictated by passion. His left hand came up under her right breast. His head tipped, his back bending, and he brought his lips to her. She bent back over his right arm, her head hanging down, so that her breast rose to him. He took the offering, pressing and moving and biting gently. As she shook in his arms, he raised the back of her half slip and reached underneath to her panties. He explored each round hemisphere, lowering the panties until she pushed against him to escape his touch. Then he brought his hand around in front to raise her half slip again. She trembled as he found the waist of her panties and drew them down. He had never dreamed that a woman could be so soft and yet, underneath the softness, so firm. As her muscles jumped, they seemed to have an independent life, a life all their own. He reached to stroke her as he continued to work at her. She grunted at his repeated touch. Abruptly, panting harshly, she pushed the two of them apart, and they fell back onto the blanket.
She appeared to regain control first. Lying there bathed in moonlight, a wisp of nylon around her middle and her panties at her knees, she slowly kicked the panties down and off. Richard roused up and reached for the waistband of her half slip.
"No," she said. "You first." She reached for his belt buckle and unfastened that with one hand, undid the little metal hook at the waist, found his zipper and lowered it. Then he shoved both underwear and slacks down and slipped them all the way off to lie completely naked before her.
She raised up on her knees beside him. "You must like my body."
"I adore everything about you."
She took his hand and raised it, sliding the hand over her breasts, caressing her.
"Do you like these?" she asked.
"I love them."
She slid his hand down.
"Do you like this?"
"You're lovely."
She shoved the back of her half slip down under her hips and brought his hand around behind her. "And this?"
He cupped one rich buttock. "That's the most beautiful in the world."
She lowered the half slip part way. This was the first time Richard had seen her torso quite naked, and he shook with need for her.
"And do you like this?"
"I love that," he said, moving his hand. "I love that and I want that. I need that."
"Oh, Richard." She fell onto her back and rolled away from him laughing, a note of hysteria in her voice. "We're going to be so happy! We'll be married soon, we have to be, I can't stand this if we aren't, and then we can do everything."
Lying flat on her back and grinning at him like a happy child, she lazily kicked the half slip away, down her legs and off, and at last they were both completely naked to one another. He pulled himself over beside her and, lying on his side, whispered, "I love you, Laura."
"I love you, Richard. I wish you'd kiss me."
He kissed her gently, touching no other part of her body, and their tongues flickered lightly and delicately at one another. Then, still kissing him, Laura rose on one elbow and rolled him over onto his back. She moved her body so that her breasts slid over his chest and she rested her' arms on each side of him. Then, as she continued to kiss him again and again, she swept her breasts across his chest from side to side. "Ah, love," she whispered, "you make my breasts so hard they hurt. Oh, love, they hurt good!"
Then she slowed the sweeping motion, bringing that almost to a stop. He felt her hand on his ribs. The band moved down, setting up flames on his skin, and she held him. She began to sweep her breasts across him again, caressing his sensitive flesh. Then he could stand that no longer. Before he lost control, he pushed Laura aside.
After a moment, he felt sure of himself again. He bent to Laura, looked into her love-drugged eyes, and kissed her. As their mouths met, he clutched the breast nearest to him, digging at that harder than he ever had before. Then he brought his lips to her and transferred his hand to the other breast. As he sank his face on the first breast, he stroked and stretched the tumescent tip of the second. Then he moved his kiss to the second and reached farther to pet her. With something like a little whinney, she responded to him, against his touch.
Then she gasped and shoved him away, sitting up beside him. He sat up with her, looking into her drugged, nearly closed eyes, and took her into his arms. Her head went against his chest. "Oh, lover," she sighed, and he felt a little stab of pain: she was biting his chest. Her head went still further, and she bit him under the ribs. She kept on biting him, and Richard fell back, leaning against one arm. She bit him again and then paused. "You're so beautiful, love, and I love you so much," she said softly. Then she gave him a long kiss such as she had never given him before. Her head moved a bit, and he couldn't help but react to the dangerous touch of her sharp little teeth: knowing that the margin of control was growing all too slim, he pulled her to him and again they held one another, gently rocking.
"Richard," she whispered at. last.
"Yes."
"We mustn't do this. But do you think, maybe, for just a minute, you could ... we could, just for a minute ... and-and stop ... you know?"
"All right. Soon."
He needed another minute to be sure he was all right. Then he lay her back and settled down with her. After a few tries, Laura saying, "No-no...." she said, "Ah, that's right." And with three short moves which once more brought him to the very edge of his control, he took her.
At last they were together. Lying perfectly still, their eyes closed, they found out what that was like.
"Is that good, Richard?" she asked.
"So good, better than anything else in the world. Am I good for you?"
"Oh, yes. I want to hold you forever." She sighed and smiled. He dimly realized that she still had one white sock on, and he smiled too.
"Richard, love," she said after a moment.
"Yes, Laura, darling."
"Would that be so awful if ... Darling, would that be so terrible if-if we went ahead?"
He hesitated. Even now he didn't want Laura to do anything she would regret. But he refused to believe that she might regret this, for he Wanted her so badly himself.
"Of course not," he said.
"We're going to be married soon, and isn't that better to have this together than apart like last time?"
"Yes, much better. Much better, love."
She began to shift her feet. "Then let's, darling. Let's have this together...." Her voice grew more urgent. "Please. Oh, I love you, Richard!"
The quiet rest had given him all his control back and he began with confidence, heightening her passion slowly. "Oh, that's good, good, love. I love you, Richard!"
He began to work faster, and she picked up the rhythm. "Oh, Richard, love, I'm getting closer! I want you to have this with me, love! I want to make this good for you. Am I being good to you-"
She screamed. The flashlight beam beating down on them turned the rest of the night dead black.
A low-pitched voice, smooth and impersonal, said, "All right, you two, break that up."