The ultimate game.
They closed the door behind them and leaned against it as they moved into each other and kissed.
The mood was infectious.
“We should go up to bed, Peter, and continue this properly up there, where we didn’t complete it on the Fell, today.” She seemed silently determined.
He knew how she felt. He felt the same way. “Patience, my love. It’s not that late. Some things should not be rushed. Besides, I have other plans for us both this evening.”
“I think we should sit in the living room and get a fire going for later, even though we don’t need it for warmth, and then I’ll explain it to you. But first, I’ll get us a night cap while we relax and let that dinner digest.” He remembered something else he’d considered earlier and walked over to plug in the ball clock on the mantelshelf.
She wouldn’t ask why. Peter had a reason for everything.
Each minute, the electric motor of that clock swept the arm around in one complete revolution to pick up another steel ball from the line-up at the bottom, and raised it to drop at the top, to add to those already up there. When enough balls collected on the minute arm; five of them in total; it unbalanced and tilted, rolling all but one of the balls to the bottom, sending the first one released to the five-minute arm, below, to mark off the advancing time. At sixty minutes, with 12 balls on it, the minute arm tilted, and dropped all balls but one, to the bottom. Again, the first ball released, went to the hour arm, changing the time each minute, and interrupting the silence of the house.
It did not matter that it showed the wrong time. Time was inconsequential at this moment, and Sheila wasn’t going to lift the cover off and fiddle with the balls to re-arrange them.
She almost burst out laughing, thinking of fiddling with balls.
Peter returned with two glasses of wine.
Her mother would notice that the bottles of wine she’d left on the fridge door had been depleted along with most of the food in there.
They sat in front of the fire on the floor leaning back against the settee with their legs bent, her dress falling down along her thighs, uncovering her. If he wanted to touch her again under her dress, or even just remove it, he could now, without worrying about cars coming by to illuminate them, or them risking the hazards of lying down in a field in the dark to try for that first time to make love.
She leaned against him, wondering when he would make the first move to undress her after they’d made such a good start on it, on the road, although he now seemed to be in a more playful kind of mood.
“I propose a toast to the most interesting and beautiful woman in the world. She was a world-shaking surprise when I met her just a few days ago; but a woman I also terrified, with what I represented and the way I came to her; an invading alien force, revealing his intentions too openly to her, encroaching into her protected and isolated world; a woman I intend to spend the rest of my life with, if she will have me.”
Sheila sat there, blushing with pleasure.
She raised her glass in turn.
“She will have you, sir, just as soon as you want to claim her.”
She knew that his thoughts at that moment were on her, and on having her, but they had both been that way for the last three days of torment, getting ever closer to it, held apart only by her period, and then those damned bats this morning.
She’d forgotten about the bats. They’d gone, but she no longer cared about them. She responded, as expected.
“I also propose a toast; to the suddenly-unexpected change, in my otherwise ordered, predictable, and utterly boring life, and to the man who introduced me to a future I would otherwise never have known existed for me. May it never change.”
They began to sound like marriage vows to each other.
“May it never change.” They clinked glasses and drank. Her eyes sparkled, wondering what Peter had planned for her.
“Now, dear heart, my Sheila, I propose something else.”
'His Sheila', she liked the sound of that. She waited to hear what he would suggest for their evening as the clock dutifully rattled out it’s pattern of change every minute.
“There is an interesting game we have not yet played, and it is long overdue. It is one we can play anytime we are alone and have time to relax together, as now.”
“What game, Peter?”
It didn’t matter. All of his games with her would be interesting; always involved removal of clothing until they were both naked, and would go where they both wanted to go. She knew that it would soon progress in predictable fashion anyway, once the clothes came off as they soon would. That was always his intent. She should be patient and let him explain it to her.
He turned to her and touched under her raised knees, as she jumped and flinched, feeling him touching into her hair again, going a little further, liking what he discovered.
He chuckled. “Sensitive already? Good!”
He turned even more to her. “Now, my love,”—he took a deep breath and smiled at her— “the rules.”
There were rules? There were not usually any rules in what he was planning for her other than to get the clothes off her as quickly as possible.
He pushed the tray to one side.
“In this game, which is a game of intimate discovery; nothing is forbidden; no holds are barred, provided everything is gentle and agreed upon before we begin. Once we begin, talking is not required.
“Rule one. There must be no shyness, no hesitation, no backing away.”
That was an easy one.
“Rule two. No words… and no looking, once we begin.
“Rule three. We close our eyes and keep them closed, imagining that we are both learning about the other by touch alone, as though meeting each other for the first time and discovering each other”
She could see where this would go.
He retreated to the kitchen, leaving their wine glasses on the side, and returned with one of the kitchen benches, which he placed in front of the fire, but not too close to it.
“We are, or should be, fully dressed to begin. It’s more exiting that way. We sit facing each other, astride this bench, first getting rid of our shoes and, in my case, my socks. We close our eyes, and take our time disrobing each other, one piece of clothing at a time, alternating until we are both completely naked. As I have more clothes on than you, then one or even two of mine come off first; any ones you choose, it doesn’t matter.”
“But I have on only my dress, Peter.”
“We shall imagine that you have on, both bra and panties. As they are imaginary, they will be easily removed. I shall mime it, and imagine it.”
He stared at her. “Oh yes, the next rule. Whenever a button is undone, we kiss. For each zip, each snap, each arm taken out of a sleeve, or just when we feel like it; we kiss.
“If I fasten up your dress before we begin; zip and clasp, then your dress alone, makes at least five such kisses, and it will be a while coming off. My trousers and underpants count one each. No credit for zips or legs on me. Whenever one of us pauses and holds still and steady; we kiss. There must be no hurrying this along. The slower, the better.
“Next rule. Each time another ball drops on that ball-clock, signifying another minute has gone by, we pause and come together to kiss yet again before we resume removing another piece or part of clothing.” So that was why he'd wanted it started.
She listened and smiled at him.
“When we are completely naked, we move as close together as we can, still astride this bench, however we choose to do it; knees hard against each other, or your legs over mine or mine over yours, whichever is easy. You shall decide which it shall be.
“Then, keeping our eyes closed, and starting at our heads… we steadily explore each other everywhere our hands can reach, moving in unison, not out-running each other, moving at the pace of the slower one of us; extending eventually, down to our knees. I doubt we will get that far before we explode, and then back up, just as slowly, and just as purposefully, pausing, discovering.
“We touch the corresponding part of our bodies in unison. If I touch your ears and pause there, you touch mine, and pause too; then lips, shoulders, upper body, hips, lower body, pausing where we will, and for as long as we choose to find out more. We move on only when the slowest one of us moves; going back to earlier if the other needs to refresh a memory, a sensation, or just to dwell there and find out more.
“We let everything go where it will.
“In due course, we retire to continue wherever it will go between us, upstairs.”
She needed no time to think. “I agree to everything, Peter.”
They closed their eyes and began.
In less than a few minutes their clothing was lying on the floor beside them and they were touching each other by the face, pausing to kiss, as the noise from the clock dictated, or as another rule kicked in.
Both were feeling excited. Sheila was not sure what to expect, though the rules had been straightforward.
She opened her eyes for an instant, seeing his eyes closed, so she closed her own again, conscious of what she had seen between them. He was notably, shockingly, erect.
As his hands moved around her face, hers touched him correspondingly.
She touched his eyebrows as he touched hers, smoothing over them feeling how coarse that hair of his was, relative to her own.
He felt the delicacy of her ears, the smoothness of her soft skin, so different from his, and of her delicate cheekbones.
His hair was windblown, and he had a noticeable stubble on his cheeks with a few errant hairs under his chin that they both had missed while shaving him. He felt her pause encountering that. She would see to that for him in the morning.
He paused at her shoulders, needing to spend some time touching along them to her arms and then… except another ball dropped on the clock, so they moved together to kiss, not find it easy to break away before the next ball rolled, and clicked into place, but they could not have broken away anyway.
He went over her face again, realizing that with his eyes open, he had been unable to sense what he now could about her. He took much longer over it than she had, as he had to find out what his fingers and his palms were beginning to tell him. He began to feel what beauty really was, and to confirm what his eyes had already told him about her. But it was not his eyes that told him what was important this time, it was his hands, his fingers, and his other suddenly-alive senses.
The eyes deceived! But they didn’t deceive where Sheila was concerned. Everything about her was beautiful! Those who said that beauty was only skin deep, but that true beauty lay within, knew so much more than he everwould about beauty. Sheila had both outer and inner beauty.
He sensed that never—no matter how unbearable the provocation—would an unkind word ever leave her lips. It was as if he could read her innermost thoughts through his touch.
She was a contradiction in so many ways; weak and yet strong – stronger than he was; forward, yet vulnerable; happy, yet unutterably sad, when she thought, as she still did, how they had almost missed meeting each other. He was startled to feel her warm breath on his hands now, as she must have been able to feel his breath on hers. His hands moved to her neck, and gently touched her bare shoulders again.
She reached out and gently pulled his head into hers, just beneath her ear, so that he might smell her as intimately and as revealingly, as she had earlier smelled him when they had been close-together on the road from the Inn.
He progressed part way down her arms, feeling her touching his arms, following him, letting him lead the way. He lifted her arms out from her body to feel along and under them; smooth, unlike his, conscious of what he could feel with his wrists, beside them when he got to her body; her breasts. They were not so far away.
He retreated back to her shoulders and then came forward onto the tops of her breasts, down… down… covering her breasts with his hands, feeling that her nipples were already hard against his palms.
The game was going along too slowly, considering how he was already feeling. If he did not move more quickly he would explode with excitement before they finished.
Another ball dropped, and they leaned into each other again, her hands beside his chest; his, fully on her breasts as they kissed more hungrily with each passing minute, sometimes forgetting themselves for minutes at a stretch.
When they broke apart again, having difficulty doing so, he moved steadily away from her breasts and down across her abdomen to touch her in that special place, knowing that with her legs being as wide apart as his were, that all of her was exposed and was easily accessible to him, but he was not allowed to look. He ached to open his eyes and look.
He could barely control himself now, touching along her, feeling how excited and moist she had become, how relatively open she had become, inviting him wordlessly to go into her.
She gripped him more firmly, also caught up in the same mood.
Another ball dropped into place, but they were too engrossed in each other to notice, and in any case, they were kissing all of the time now.
He would not survive any more of this.
He felt a moment of panic at the feelings that began to course irresistibly through him. She must have felt the uncertainty, and trembling in his touch.
She smiled in understanding. Neither of them said anything for some time as he tried to bring himself down and to regain control over his own unpredictable feelings.
They remained facing each other, naked and breathless, every sense, tingling and alive with what they were doing, feeling, sensing. They should not wait any longer but should just push along and complete what they both wanted.
Sheila had to let him decide what would happen, it was out of her hands now, not sure exactly where they would go from here; he had touched all of her, kissed her everywhere as she had, him. there was only one thing left for them to do.
“Come closer to me, Sheila, bring your legs over mine and lay back along the bench.” They could now break the rules. They had to.
She did not let go of him but did as he asked her, bringing her legs one at a time to rest above his as he pulled her toward him, her hips riding ever higher on his upper thighs, presenting her vulva and everything about her there to him, for whatever he needed to do with her.
The game had suddenly become so much more intent and serious with them both breathless, her eyes still closed, but with his wide open.
She guided him to slide along her vulva again from back to front this time, with him leaning over her to kiss her.
Her legs rose higher on either side of him as he did that, opening herself up in every way to his attention.
She felt him rise up over her, retreat a little way and then come forward again, feeling him touching at her, into her.
He wanted her, just as she wanted him.
It would be now. It had to be now!
She reached down and helped him find her, placing him where he had to be, getting him started into her.
She was totally relaxed and even moist after that little game and she felt him make a start into her.
“Are you sure about this, Sheila?” He was sure, so she also should be.
“I am sure, Peter.”
“Stop me if I am hurting you.” He knew she would be unlikely to stop him now. They had been too long getting here.
“It’s not hurting, Peter, but please go slowly this first time.”
She sounded apprehensive. He understood. The first time for this going into her, would always be difficult.
“I will go slowly. Take a firm hold of me and allow me to go into you, only as far as you feel you can. Hold me back if you need to.”
He also knew that there was only a small window before he would not be able to help himself and that he would come, far too soon and would want to push into her hard when that happened.
He pushed slowly forward until her hold stopped him, then he leaned in to kiss her, the clock, and its rattling behind them, long forgotten.
She gave a little more, so that he could advance further, and then did the same again.
He was advancing steadily into her without any complaint from her. It became easier for her. In sudden desperation, and determination to get this moment behind them, she let go of him and reached behind him to pull at him now to get more of him into her rather than holding him away.
He was the one resisting now, even though every fiber of his body wanted just to push as she wanted, and to push hard until he could go no farther.
Oh hell, she was ready! He let himself do as his body screamed at him to do, and just pushed steadily, getting everywhere he had wanted to be for days.
He paused, surprised, not hearing any sound of complaint, no objection.
“You have all of me, my love.”
“All of you? Are you sure Peter?” She sounded surprised and disbelieving. Surely her body could not have accepted all of him so soon. She hadn’t expected that to happen the first time and not to feel some discomfort. There had been none, just a very tight and over-full feeling.
“I am sure, my love. You definitely have all of me now.”
His conversation sounded difficult and was becoming hesitant and broken.
She analyzed what she could feel and realized that it was true. He could not have gone any farther into her, and he was even coming.
She could feel him, all of him, where he was, but she had been given time enough to relax. “I feel very full in a way I have never felt before, but it didn’t hurt as I’d expected it would.”
Nonetheless she was still apprehensive and tense. He’d only just got into her, and there was much more that he would soon do. At that crucial moment, when he came, he would move much more forcefully into her.
He kissed her. She could feel things happening in her there that she’d never felt before, as he began to move upon her more urgently.
It would not be long now; seconds only, not minutes.
She already felt him beginning to tense up on her, continuing to push hard into her as though he still had some way to go, which he didn’t.
He built up to that final moment of tension; somehow able to exercise some control over himself getting there, as if he were trying to save her any more discomfort by bringing himself to his climax, mentally, but there was still a lot of pushing and heavy breathing; some of it on her part.
He came gently after that, so unlike those other times, striving not to be as forceful and as pushy as his body demanded of him, and with him as deep within her as he could go.
She laughed in relief and brought his head down to kiss her, feeling the perspiration on his forehead and on his back as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling that other part still deep within her and never wanting to leave her, still hard, still moving as though he would never get enough of her. Still coming.
“Thank you, Peter. Thank you. That was wonderful!”
He laughed in relief. “At least we got a start on this, but now that I have got into you at last, I may never want to come out.”
She didn’t care. She liked to feel him there, knowing that she had not disappointed him again, feeling relieved over that. He could stay where he was forever if he wanted to. She was relaxing already but still had him in a murderously tight grip.
He slowed, and eventually came to a stop above her, giving a relieved, spasmodic push, followed by others at longer intervals as he sighed heavily and died upon her breasts, kissing her everywhere upon her face.
“What does it feel like to you, to have me inside of you, to feel me come within you, even getting excited yourself, as I think I sensed when I was suddenly able to move in you more easily?”
She stroked his ear. “You did sense it, Peter. You, getting into me, was also long overdue. I’m sorry for that. Despite that, it was different, wonderful, but I have a long way to go.” She thought for a few moments.
“I am not sure what I am feeling. I’ll answer that question in more detail in a few days when I have much more to work on; probably after we’ve done this about a hundred times more.”
He smiled at her. “Sometime tomorrow then. Okay.”
They both laughed.
She was lying there naked, with a naked man on top of her and she had just been made love to, and she was not complaining or objecting to any of it in any way.
This was not the girl she had been just a week ago, where if any man had looked at her, never mind spoken to her, she would have panicked and run away.
Peter, and the circumstance of them meeting had trapped them together for just long enough, initially, to cause a bond to form between them. It had been a tenuous and uncertain bond at first, but by the time he had got her dressed again and up to the top of the gully, she was not only confused about her own feelings, but was puzzled by his obvious difficulties controlling himself around her, feeling his unmistakeable attraction to her, yet none of it threatening to her at all.
Why had he not just overridden all of her objections at that first moment and taken her there and then? It was what she had begun to fear would happen, yet he hadn’t. He had been able to control himself and had not taken advantage of her.
It was obvious that he was becoming interested in everything about her, but she had also become interested in him in a similar way, and the more she learned and watched him, the more captivated she had become.
By the time he got her to the river, she was well on her way to being in love with him, and now they had just made love for the first time. All she wanted, was that he could continue to make love to her like this for the rest of time.
Her own mother would not recognize her; might disown her completely. Sheila did not even recognize this person she had become. She had turned into a shameless girl that no one would know or want to know. What was worse; was that she didn’t even care. There was nothing wrong with what they were doing.
“I fear my mother will not recognize me, Peter, or will not want to know me. I am not sure I even recognize myself with what is happening to me the way I feel and what I am doing, what we are now doing.
“I have become one of those girls that nice girls keep away from and shun. Who is this strange woman, this woman on fire, that is in my body and has taken it over?”
“It isn’t just a different woman in your body my love, but a man, me, now. At long last!”