Her coordination, on those nights, would be off, as was her speech. He got bolder and bolder using his hands and legs to grope her, or run his legs between hers. When he did, he would notice that a slight smile came across her lips. He knew that she knew what he was doing. She thought that it was cute. Art was not sure of himself enough to try to go all the way with her, at least not yet. Mark reminded Art several times that all his planning wasn't worth dip-shit. But then, one night in February of their senior year, their luck changed. Boy did it. It was a Saturday night. Art noticed that the Bowermans were throwing a big party. There were a at least twenty cars in the street. more ...
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"You made a noise." I can't help but blush, caught in my memory. I smile and assure him I've never been better, just can't wait to get home. We pull into the drive and walk hand in hand to the front door. Once inside we avoid each others' eyes, our arousal distinctly awake since we'd passed through the doorway. He takes my coat and lines up our snowy shoes on the mat on the floor and hand in hand again we walk to through the house, stopping to turn on lights, to switch on the heat. He leads me to the formal sitting room where a bottle of wine and two glasses have been placed on the glass-topped table. more ...