Two steps forward. None, back.
After Sheila finished talking to her mother, she hung up and turned to find Peter behind her, beaming approvingly at her state of undress, leaning in to kiss her, but careful not to touch where he really wanted to, though sorely tempted. Give it a couple of minutes. He rested his hands by her waist, instead.
“I had to answer the phone, Peter, and I didn’t have time to….”
No, she obviously hadn’t had time to dress.
He was smiling at her, happy to see her exactly as she was.
“I daren’t answer it. I would have come up to help you out of the shower, but Annie pulled up just then.”
“She did?” Sheila colored up, having lost track of time until the phone had gone.
“I’d forgotten. She said she’d be here this morning, but I didn’t think she’d be here so early. Oh, Lord, I hope…” Her eyes flashed to the door, seeing it still opening.
“I had to come down as fast as I could, on one leg and one step at a time on my backside. I hope I didn’t pick up any splinters. She didn’t see me, did she?”
He shook his head and lied.
“No. But she could hear you. She made me a lunch for today, and she said she’d visit you later when she gets lunch at the Inn out of the way.”
He took her into his arms and kissed her, happy that she did not push him away in sudden shyness after last night, although seeing to her in the bath last night, and spending the night together in each other’s arms, touching her, had diminished most of that awkwardness between them.
He felt her arms go around him in turn, and she’d said he could kiss her whenever he wanted to. He was feeling brave, wondering if he could push another boundary back a little further.
“I have a small request to ask of you if you don’t mind, before I go out today?” She could see the way he openly admired her and how eagerly he had greeted her.
It was nice to be so openly admired. He could touch her if he wanted to and anywhere, but surely he wasn't asking that.
“Perhaps not so small. Even very difficult and daring.”
She waited to see what he might say before he took her upstairs to get her dressed.
“May I photograph you, just as you are?”
She laughed, not expecting that.
“Naked?” He nodded.
“Peter!” She sounded shocked.
He blushed at her emphatic use of his name.
Damn. She was going to refuse him.
“Now? Right now?” She was blushing now, as he was.
She was NOT going to refuse him!
He held under her breasts as he stepped back to admire her. “Yes. Now is a good time with Annie gone, and us alone, with you all clean and rosy and smelling so nice and fresh. And so enervating and interesting to me as you are. And blushing so beautifully.”
“Why?” The idea did not seem to shock her too much.
It was an understandable question.
“For the family album. Our family album when we get one started. For me.”
And because either your mother or Annie will want to kill me to protect you, so I’ve got to do it now while I can, and at least have that memory of you to take with me.
“I would like to capture you as I want to remember you forever. At least, get a start on building worthwhile memories.”
They had already made a good start on that, yesterday and throughout the night.
She grinned at him, still blushing and leaned up to kiss him.
“Only if I can ask the same favor of you!
He would never refuse.
“But you must be dressed at first, Peter, as you are now, as I first remember you, and then later, if I dare, to photograph you as you intend to photograph me."
When she had the courage to undress him for herself and reveal him as he really was; 'weaponized'!
"The answer is yes, Peter, as long as you and I are the only ones who will see them.”
“We will be. I always have my camera, but I forgot it yesterday and left it in my pack at the top of the gully. Just think of the shots I could have had of our first meeting.” Another loss.
“I’ll take you out on the fell with me in my camera and probably get absolutely no work done, dreaming of getting back to you, to see you as I will always want to remember you.”
Naked, of course!
She came back at him. “You know that the best photographs are always those the subject knows nothing about. Those un-studied and un-posed ones are always the best.” He would do that too, and when she least expected it.
“Agreed, to all conditions. And I’ll do all of those other things too, even now, when you’re not looking, if you won’t object to some candid shots.”
“I will never object, Peter. As long as we are alone.”
They would be.
He asked a lot, but she'd agreed.
She stood shyly at first, with her hands covering her breasts, as that was expected of a shy girl, but then seeing his approval, and obvious interest and excitement; more openly as she progressively relaxed, posing coyly, revealingly, still smiling shyly, blushing at him.
“I feel so very shy, but I’ll soon get used to it.”
“Yes, you will my love. You’ll have to, around me. I have absolutely no shyness. Something to do with pushy sisters. Here, take this.” He peeled off his shirt and passed it to her, knowing that it would hide nothing important of her, but might give her a sense of having something covering her, while not hiding anything at all.
He kissed her, then even more daringly, kissed her breasts, holding them gently as he looked up into her face, his mind leading him on to certain destruction, letting the moments slip by.
When he felt he could take no more of it, he stepped back and took another photograph of her; several, seeing the way her breasts had responded to that attention (just as his own body had, and which she could also see), watching her as she laid the table for them both, blushing up at him and wearing absolutely nothing other than his shirt. Even her panties were still in the bathroom.
As she leaned across the table to change something, he snapped one unexpectedly behind her, seeing more or her than any man, expecting to remain sane and rational, should ever be tormented by.
“When I first saw you properly; Sheila, and that was a very disturbing moment to me, and I am not just talking about when I took your shirt off and saw… but when I looked into your eyes, I said, ‘this woman is for me’.
“Unfortunately, it was my hormones speaking from the first feelings I had for you; feelings of lust, I am almost ashamed to say. And ‘this woman is for me’ was not how my mind and body were phrasing it, but in a way that was much more demonstratively graphic toward you.”
Her eyes rose to his in understanding. He’d wanted to make love to her even then, but not expressed so politely. The way the girls at school would have phrased it, would be that ‘he’d been hot to get into her panties and fuck her even then, right then, right there’.
“Peter?” She was unsure if she could ask him something or not.
“Yes, my love?” He dared say it again now, seeing her brighten up. They'd made great strides in such a brief time.
He encouraged her, drawing her to sit on his knee, one arm behind her and the other across the top of her bare legs, holding her possessively, as he nuzzled at her breasts, touched them; kissed her. She was warm and not at all shy to sense these wonderfully disturbing things they were feeling for each other.
He was insatiably curious, so gently touched her between her legs, encouraging her to part her legs for him, which she easily did now. Nothing he would ever do would be wrong.
She had been addressing that other problem of hers before she’d heard the phone ringing and had come downstairs as she was. There was a small cord, coming from a very personal place on her that he could see, with her sitting across his leg, and not covered by his shirt.
He touched it and followed it up into that part of her body, below the hair, touching gently where it disappeared into her, feeling her flinch and gasp in surprise. No one had ever touched her there before. He was acutely conscious of it, and what it constantly told him. It was all that stood between them at that moment, and making love.
She trusted him not to do anything else.
He turned his face up and kissed her.
“Thank you for allowing me to see, and to do that.” And to do so much more that previous night.
She could feel how doing that, as well as touching and kissing her breasts had affected him. Soon she would find out about him just as confidently.
He sensed the thousand things she wanted to ask and to say.
“You can ask me anything, Sheila. About me, about us, where we go from here…. About that part of me, if you want to. We should have no secrets.”
She paused for a few seconds before she asked, letting her legs drift apart again so that he could rest his hand upon that hair. she liked the way he touched her everywhere, and kissed her, and looked at her.
“Peter. Is this, between us, happening too quickly?”
Why did she ask? Of course it was. Anyone and everyone could have told her that. Except she wouldn't be asking anyone else.
He hesitated for only a moment as he considered the question.
“Speaking as the man who is in love with you, I don’t believe so. It could never happen too quickly for me. Not the way I feel about you. But if you think it is, we can try and slow down.” He would be disappointed if they did, but he would understand.
There would be little hope of that happening after the start they had already made. He didn’t want to slow down. He wanted to speed everything up. It would be so easy to do--a gentle tease at that cord until he removed that impediment.
“Our interactions so far have only re-enforced that first feeling I had.” He looked up at her. “I believe it is the same for you, Sheila, or am I wrong?”
“You are not wrong, Peter.”
He paused and traced his finger across the top of her breasts and then kissed them again, seeing and feeling her nipples becoming hard again. He was unable to resist reaching up to hold them again. He would always want to touch and hold them.
She laughed. Her breasts had never been so well admired or attended to before, and it would be even better this evening.
“But that is a male, speaking. I do know that I have never felt this way about anyone before.”
“Me neither, Peter. I suppose not knowing what I should know about you, or knowing what to expect will always worry me. That, and never having travelled this road before, and with these feelings within me getting stronger all of the time. Having to learn to trust someone as soon as you meet them, or to risk losing them.”
He looked up at her. “You would never have lost me, Sheila. I would have tracked you to the ends of the earth after those first few moments with you. And especially now.”
She could feel how she was affecting him. She was almost ready to throw all caution to the wind, let him tease that tampon from her body as he wanted to, and encourage him to make love to her there and then. She looked at him sympathetically and laid her hand over his. They had both moved a long way in such a short time.
He might not get out on the fell today or for the next few days if they gave in to their feelings, and never mind this other problem she had.
“Circumstances that might have permitted a slower learning process were against us both from the start, Peter. Would you believe I’d been trying to avoid you on the Fell, but you came too close to where I was, and I stumbled into that gully. The rest is history, as they say.”
She let her curiosity take her further as she adjusted her position on his knee, and then found the courage to rest her hand upon him there, where he was pushing against his clothing, feeling how excited he was for her. He shocked her, so she took her hand away as he smiled at her, understanding her reticence. She would have to do it all in her own time and when she was ready. He would not push.
“How many other girls have you…. No, I shouldn’t ask.”
He knew what she had been about to say.
“None! That count." Sophia didn't count. "You are the first woman I have felt this way about or have ever been this close to, or have been so well-tormented by, or wanted to make love to. This is a new world, and new sensations for me too. You are my first girlfriend too, though I think we are already far beyond such adolescent things.”
“Just as you are my first and only boyfriend ever, Peter, and will soon be my first, and only lover.” He liked everything she was saying.
“My sisters warned me what would happen when I met someone like you.”
That could be taken either way, but he meant it only kindly.
“What did they say?”
“They told me that when I went to university; one day, unexpectedly, I would come across someone I would soon be convinced I could not possibly live without. She would be someone I would sacrifice everything for. Someone I would protect, even with my own life. And that that, would be love.”
He kissed her again. “I found her yesterday on the Fell.”
He’d said the right thing.
Just as she had found him.
“My sisters also said that I must not rush things, and scare her, as all males were tempted to do right out of the gate.”
She waited to hear him say more.
“Wise girls, my sisters. Too late for that other thing, about not rushing it though, or scaring you.”
It didn’t sound as though he regretted it, and nor did she.
His sisters had actually been more direct and outspoken than that, but he couldn’t tell Sheila what they’d said. Not yet.
‘Keep out of her bra and panties for at least a week, Peter, you horny sod, or you’ll scare her away with that stiff willie winkie of yours.’
He hadn't stayed out of Sheila's bra or panties at all, but had been into them already, technically speaking, as she hadn't been wearing a bra, and it was debatable about her panties too, with them being so flimsy as to hide very little of her there.
His sisters had actually managed to embarrass him at that moment, catching him off guard with that comment. What did they know about his winkie, as they'd put it? And when had they seen him with an erection, recently? He tried to keep such things well hidden from them when he'd reached puberty, but they all knew that there could be few secrets in that house, whether about him, or them.
‘…Unless she insists, and then go for it; nail her, Peter, just as you did Sophia, but for goodness sake, don’t get her pregnant or we’ll never speak to you again.’ They didn't care about Sophia. She had been the local bicycle for every man to try out, and they had.
How had they known what he'd done to Sophia? Had they spied on them and watched him do that to her? He'd known they had a low opinion of her, but didn't know about that other.
They never told him, but they had been entranced watching them, never having seen anyone doing what they had been doing, before. That incident, often repeated with Sophia, taught them so much that they would otherwise never have learned until they themselves got nailed, and by then, it was too late.
They dared to be outspoken with their younger brother when their mother was not around, and they had every intention of being outrageous.
“I was scared for only a short while, Peter.” She was still concerned about a lot of things and where they would go with her, but not truly scared.
They both laughed.
“Peter, I have one more question, if you don’t mind? A personal one.” They had all been personal.
“You were telling me, when we first met, how your sisters did something to you with black shoe-polish to punish you.” She wondered if he would refuse to answer. It must have been something embarrassing.
“Where did they put it, that they had to strip you to put it on you?”
He chuckled. Of all of his secrets that was one he still felt most sensitive about.
“You have too good a memory, Sheila. I should not have told you that, but I needed to try and distract you by telling you the most outrageous things, and that was one of them.” He'd mentioned Sophia too. Damn.
He took a deep breath.
“I was seven-years old. I forget what I’d done to justify it, but whatever I did, really annoyed them. They stripped me down to nothing. Our parents were out for the day, and they smeared it along my ‘willie-winkie’" He explained. "Words from the ‘wee willie winkie’ nursery rhyme that they always chuckled over when they read that one to me, and they also put it on my balls, as three of them held me down, impervious to my complaints and threats about what I would do to them. They were very gentle about it despite my kicking and threshing about. The language I used…? Just as well our parents were not there.
“Do I need to explain what any of those are, or show you? I will, if you want me to.”
She blushed. “No, I don’t think so. Not yet. Not here. When we go upstairs.”
There was promise in that statement.
“It must have been very difficult to get off.”
“It was. A very delicate, long-drawn-out, venture.”
His sisters had chuckled over other impolite nursery rhymes too; having invented their own versions of them, but soon realised how dangerous that was, when he had begun reciting one to their mother before they’d interrupted him.
‘Mary had a little lamb…’ and impolite things about the lamb’s father having caught Mary in the barn one day after school, and what he had done to Mary, in the hay. Then there had been Little Boy Blue, and his Horn, and she was no longer, ‘little’ Miss Muffet, after the not-so-Little, Boy Blue and his gigantic horn had finished with her, leaving her dazed, and her knickers all tattered and torn. No, it had not been the spider that had sat down beside her, ‘but little boy blue with the horn!’. Then they'd all laughed. It was obviously funny and worth repeating. So he had, until they'd shut him up in a panic.
They had been playing with him there, in the bath, bringing him to life when they had recited that one. They began to be more circumspect after that when they'd bathed him.
He submerged those recollections. “Before I go onto the Fell today, I’ll carry you up to get you dressed. But if I do that, with you the way you are, I might never come down again.”
That thought did not scare her now.
“After that, when we are both more relaxed and after we have eaten, I shall take some more photographs of you. Ones with clothes on, that I may be able to show my sisters and surprise them.
“I hope I am not moving too fast for you.”
“I don’t think so.” He had not moved too fast yet for her, despite the ground they had already covered. This was just about the right pace.
“How I introduce you will depend upon what penance your mother will make me pay for having plundered her daughter when she corners me.”
Sheila chuckled over that expression: ‘plunder’, but none of what he’d said had been lost on her.
“It is a price I will willingly pay.” He smiled mischievously at her. “I will have plundered you before she gets back, I hope?” He didn’t seem sure.
She hoped so too. “Maybe late Wednesday or Thursday, Peter. When I finish.”
“Good. I might be able to survive ’till then.”
“What will you do today, Peter, when I decide to let you leave me after you show me where they put polish on you?”
He smiled at her courage, but they affected each other the same way.
“It’s a fine day, so I should finish with my mapping if I can. Two or three days should do it.
“I did the calves and the hens, so you don’t need to struggle with them, and I’ll finish them for the day when I get back, about four.
“Will you be able to manage here by yourself, Sheila, until I get back? I won’t go if you can’t. I am sure I can find a lot to do around here.”
There was far too much mischief to get up to, the way they both felt about each other, if he stayed.
“I’ll manage. I can’t go anywhere, so I’ll work around here. There are a lot of things I can do that do not require much movement.”
“Okay, then let’s get you upstairs to get dressed and to see what else I can shock you with when I show you a few other important things.”
He picked her up and walked to the stairs, his hands under her, pulling her close to him so that he could feel the delicate thatch between her legs on his belly, and with her breasts in his face.
“I think I should be rewarded with a kiss for each step. Or better still, one kiss for the first step, two for the second and then more as we go up, or we can double them with each succeeding step. Let’s see, fourteen steps. Yes, it might take us a day or two to get up there with a few thousand kisses owing and maybe a day to get down again.”
He had another thought.
“Before I let you get dressed, I should also check you for splinters with you coming down those stairs on your backside."
He seemed shocked. "My god, have we come so far that we can be having this indelicate discussion? Yes, we have.”
“Don’t forget, Peter, you were going to actually show me where they put that shoe-polish on you. That might take us another hour.”
“Ah yes, that too.” He almost regretted telling her about that. “On second thoughts, I should forget about going out today at all. I have a full day ahead of me already. The splinters alone will take at least an hour if I do it right. Besides, I am curious about you in other ways and in other places.” As she was about him.
They laughed together as he carried her up. He would get no objection from her.
“I will demand all of the kisses we owe each other when I get to the top, once we’ve worked out how many that will be, and after we get ourselves comfortably arranged. That is likely to take another hour or two. Neither of us will need clothes for that, unless I am likely to scare you too much.”
“I don’t think you can scare me now, Peter.”
“Wanna bet? You will need to shower when I finish with you.”