Candy is Dandy. Liquor is quicker. But poetry is just fine too.
Where she sat, turned sideways to him, Susan knew that he could glimpse down into her shirt where it opened up, and if he wanted to lift her skirt even more…? There was nothing covering her there.
Doug noticed that she had undone more of the buttons on her shirt. He was staring, mesmerized, trying to follow that necklace with the dog tags, down into that haunting shadow that even thinking about, dried up his mouth.
She knew that he had been honest. He would always be curious about her and her body. It was normal for a male. She was curious about his body too, but in a different way, wondering if... and apprehensive as to how... and would it hurt. Though those other girls had said nothing of any pain.
What wouldn’t he have given to be a soft, fluffy kitten held lovingly in her arms between those breasts, and to sleep upon them in their warm softness? Fortunately, she could not read his thoughts, despite their conversation, or she would be running, screaming from him, and back to her mother and father. His sisters would disown him and want nothing more to do with him. That thought, calmed his overwhelming urges, and the desire to reach down and touch her, and brought him back to sanity.
He cursed his wayward thoughts and the way he felt. He had never had such powerful feelings for any woman before. How in hell her parents had dared to trust him with her was beyond his understanding. They must know enough about young men like him, yet they had thrown them together. It was every young man’s dream come true, but not for the right reasons, or in the way he would have liked.
Her parents had no choice in asking him for his help, just as he had no choice in accepting what they had needed him to do. He had better get his thoughts back in order, and make sure he did not frighten her. He frightened himself more than enough. Fortunately, she could not read his thoughts, but just sat trustingly in his arms, entirely unaware (maybe) of how she was mercilessly tormenting him.
She was as dreamily pre-occupied as he was but, undoubtedly, with more innocent thoughts of her own.
“Let me know when you are tired enough to sleep. Or we can sit like this and talk further, Susan, if you can, and if you would like to. Or we can just say nothing.” It would be dangerous no matter what they did, but especially if they sat much longer like this.
“I was thinking, but we can continue talking until I feel like sleeping.”
She would sleep well, the way she felt. It was the waking up after that, and discovering unwelcome changes in her body, that would be a problem. After a moment’s hesitation, she changed her position, to get more comfortable, pulling her shirt up from under her, and snuggled closer into him again. She was in his care for better or worse, and there would be nothing she could do about it, stuck where they were, miles from anywhere. He had done nothing out of line to cause her to question his intentions for her, and he had been gentle with her every step of the way.
“We can talk, Doug.” She thought for a few moments, as she decided what to say. “I’m not so shy now, as I was, now that we cleared the air.” They had certainly done that earlier.
She was quiet for a long time. He was not about to say anything, so she continued the conversation. “Doug?”
“Yes, Susan?” She liked the patient way he said that, even dreamily, and felt his head close to her hair, as though he was striving to get closer to her, to discover her scent, as two young animals meeting for the first time did. It was exciting to think of that. She felt his warm breath constantly on her neck and moving down into the front of her shirt. She did not move to change it. She knew that she excited him, could feel it, but dare not say anything about that. She was just beginning to understand how greatly she excited him. Just as he excited her. She could feel the warmth of his hand on her side, and could feel him trembling. She had not thought to learn so much from those other girls, but she had. Now, what was she to do with that knowledge?
“It is peaceful here.” She needed no response to that statement.
She thought of other things to ask; fishing for information, and to put things into another direction.
“You must have a girl-friend—a woman friend—at university.” Her thoughts were moving along the same channels as his own, but in a less dangerous way. She looked up at him, radiating innocence and curiosity, but he was not fooled. She knew all about him after that conversation. There was nothing innocent about that question either, and her curiosity was loaded with a deeper and more purposeful intent. He had learned enough from his sisters to recognize that. Nothing about a woman was as innocent as she would make it seem.
“Why is she not with you? When a man and a woman are attracted to each other, they often seek to spend time alone, to talk together, as we are doing.” To do even more. To make love!
They were not just talking together. A thousand other things were happening beneath the surface, and she was the one directing where it was to go.
“Sometimes they even go camping together, almost as we are now, though that is dangerous I suppose, especially if….” She didn’t say any more about how daringly reckless that thought was becoming, or what she was beginning to want to have happen between them.
“They do, today, if they can, though my mother does not approve of the way they behave with each other when they are alone in a place like this, and away from parental supervision.”
The girls at school boasted about how they even ran around naked together with their boyfriends around their fire, slept openly together, sometimes with more than one; made love whenever they felt like it, and often, though that was not the way they described it, but more earthily. It was not love that they did to each other, or with more than just one boy, but with a succession of them, as in an orgy. It was more animal than that. There was a short word for it that began with an ‘f’. She would never choose to say it aloud and would never dare use it, not even as a swear word. It diminished those who used it.
“My mother told me she would never approve of me doing that; going camping. And yet that is exactly what we are doing now, and with her approval.”
He listened patiently, wanting to know (though he already knew) where she was headed with this conversation, as she continued to reveal more of her inner thoughts.
“My mother often complains that she doesn’t understand the younger generation who are always in such a rush to enter into that kind of a loose relationship. I am not sure why she says that, as she wasn’t engaged for long, before she and dad got married, and then I came along soon after. But there was never anyone else for either of them.”
She had never thought about how long her parents had been married before she came along before, but she did now. Suddenly it became important to know. She went over in her mind what date her parents had married: December 28th, and tried to work out how that related to her birthday the following year in late August, but her mind did not want to be bothered with such minor details, except she managed to find only eight months in that space of time, and not the usual nine. It was a disturbing recognition, but not as shocking as it once might have been. She had not been premature. So, her parents had actually… yes, they had been intimate, even before they had married. But they had been in love, just as she was, as Doug was with her, so they had not really done anything wrong.
“You do not seem to be so difficult to get along with… not for a teacher, Doug. Or should I get used to the formality of calling you Mister Haldane, or, ‘Sir’, as we do with all of our male teachers?” She tried it out, feeling, and not only hearing, how it sounded. She knew the rise she'd get out of him by doing that.
She wondered what it would be like to be fucked for the first time, to be made love to by Mr. Haldane, but could not tell him that yet. Would that happen tonight? It would, if she could move it in that direction, but she didn't want to be fucked, as those other girls had been; she wanted to be made love to.
“Don’t you dare, Susan,” he remonstrated with her. “My name is Doug, to you, and nothing will change when I become your teacher. Let’s have none of this ‘Mr. Haldane’ stuff, though I suppose there might be no avoiding it when we are in class, and others are watching us.”
She liked to hear that he might be concerned about others watching them in school, seeing that they were obviously in love (because they were, even thought they had not yet directly discussed it), and taking note of their easy use of each other’s first names in private, or when they became careless in their romantic interactions with each other, touched each other, maybe intimately as though by accident. Even kissed.
They would also wonder about their more casual relationship that was even now developing into intimacy, if he had courage to do more. Or she had. He would, with her leading the way. She would not stop him if he wanted to do it for himself. So all of this would not end when they were both back at school, but would be growing.
Good. It sounded as though he intended that there would be something more between them than just this, but she already knew that there would be.
“So why is she not with you? Your girlfriend.” She asked again.
He knew what she was doing: probing, learning personal things about him in an innocently transparent way, and it pleased him. She was fishing to find out more about him, peripheral detail, after she had learned the truly personal things. He liked where this was going.
“I don’t have that kind of a girlfriend. Nor any kind of girlfriend. I didn’t have time.” That was not quite true. “Not that I didn’t want one. I did, but it was difficult with me coming home most weekends. My sisters helped make up for that. We would often go out as a family, camping together, but I don’t believe that sisters count as proper girlfriends.”
Of course not, they were his sisters.
She wanted him to continue and tell him more of himself. “I’m not comfortable around women, probably because I was always two years younger than those in my own year at high school and university, and two years at that age is a lifetime of difference. Because of that, I’ve never been around girls or women much, except for my sisters.”
She thought for a while and then spoke. “Girls are always much more mature than boys of the same age, so I think the two years difference in age between us, when tomorrow comes, makes us about equal.” He liked the way her mind was working. A few hours did not equate to a year, but he knew what she meant.
“You did not seem to be uncomfortable dealing with either of my parents, and they must be twenty years older than you. So it can’t have been just an age, thing.”
“That was different. They needed my help, and I have no trouble relating to those much older or much younger than I am. There was no room for being indecisive with your parents, or being nervous, or holding back.”
She looked up at him innocently. “Yet you were both shy and nervous with me, Doug, as you saw to me. You told me. But then you seemed to recover from that, and quickly.”
He remembered. “Yes, I did, and I was shy at first, but not shy for long. It was more uncertainty, on my part, not knowing what to expect. My ears give me away when I am nervous or embarrassed like that. You must have noticed.” She hadn’t. “They go red and feel as though they are burning. But looking after you was different. You could have been seriously injured had your shoulder truly been dislocated, and you needed my help. It was different.”
She smiled. The only difference had been her. And he had been unable to hide his interest in her. She had not understood it at first, but then had seen how confused he had become with her, once he had begun to remove her coat and then her blouse.
All women noticed those things, and liked the feeling of being so personally admired, but only by the right man.
She had watched him the entire time since he had first come to them, while she had tried not to be seen observing him. There had been no signs of shyness then. Not until he had approached her. She had noticed the difference in him then. Unlike her parents, she, disturbed him. She still disturbed him. She liked that thought.
“Did you not want a girl friend who was not your sister? Someone you might… get close to? Perhaps even to become… more loving… even, intimate with? To touch very personally?” He was not sure what she would dare say or ask next. She constantly threw these jolts into his thinking.
He tried to calm his thumping heart. ‘Intimacy’, was a word never far from his thoughts ever since he had met this woman.
“Yes. I always wanted a proper girlfriend. I felt I was missing out. I wanted a special someone that I could relate to and talk with and hold close to me.” And even do a lot more with, and to. He did not take it any further and would never dare use that word, intimate, as she had.
“You mean, as we are doing now?”
He chuckled. “I suppose we are. But it never happened. Wanting one, and getting one are at opposite ends of the spectrum for me. Girls never looked at me the same way I looked at them, or felt the same way, even when they were my own age. It wasn’t just because I was shy, as I was then.” It probably was.
There was more she needed to know. “I am not sure what is the role of a proper girlfriend, and I would like to hear what you think. I believe that a relationship with a girl, should be a stepping stone to something more serious, and not just something casual and then forgotten, but a lasting intimacy.” She looked up at him again, still radiating innocence, but he was not fooled. “What do you think?”
He knew what he would like to tell her about what he wanted in a girlfriend: no inhibitions, a constant desire to want to make love wherever they were, and no shyness or hang-ups about nudity or constant touching, but also knew that he couldn’t. It would shock her. What he wanted, and what a woman would allow or accept, were worlds apart.
“That relationship is whatever you want it to be. There are few rules that I am aware of, apart from the obvious and common-sense ones.” She looked up at him, waiting for him to explain.
“Nothing is out of bounds between two people who truly love each other. But both parties must approve of what happens and want it to happen. There must be nothing that either of them finds hurtful or awkward, or that might cause any guilty feelings.” Was he telling her, or warning her again?