More Than Friends Ch. 05

"Don't worry," she said. "When summer comes, we'll find time for me to come over and take a shower with you. They tell me," she added, her eyes twinkling, "that having your lover in the shower can be very entertaining."

He grinned at her.

A little bit to his surprise, they actually did do homework: he had a term paper to work on, and she spread out on the floor with her history textbook, after a few disparaging comments at his hygeine habits and a short session with a broom. Colin, never a fastidious cleaner, realized he would have to develop a few new habits. But once she had a clear space, she did settle down and study; and so did he. It took him a little while to understand it, but he eventually realized that they were trying to set a new precedent for themselves. They had already declared that there was almost no limit to the amount and quality of sex they would share; now they were trying to back away from that, to prove that their relationship was not completely centered on that level of decadence, that their friendship hadn't been lost somewhere in the tangle of limbs and genitals. Colin was pleased that it hadn't.

The afternoon passed in this way. Group study sessions were somewhat uncommon among them, since all three were introverted over their homework, but Colin, Adam and Heather had spent no small number of afternoons in each other's company, talking, chatting, laughing and, occasionally, actually doing homework.

"It feels a little weird without Adam," Heather observed, but neither made an effort to contact him. This time was theirs.

Eventually Heather looked up, having finished her reading and outlining and note-taking, to see that several hours had passed. Colin had reached a conclusion some time ago and was playing Solitaire on his computer. She put her book down and moved over to him, wrapping her arms around his chest. "So, now what," she asked.

He shrugged. "I dunno. We've got a few hours. I'm sure there'ssomething we could do."

It was late enough that they felt a little hungry, so they decided to go for their evening meal, this time a little more dignified. When they returned, they still didn't have any real idea of how to pass the time. A dorm room is not the best place to entertain guests. He slumped on the bed, feeling at loose ends.

She sat down in his lap. It was a slightly lopsided fit, they being much of a height, but he wrapped his arms around her without complaint. She rested her head on the top of his.

"Would I be right in guessing that you'd kind of like to stay away from sex for the time being," she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I mean, like, I'm basically addicted to you now." A smile to show he meant no harm by that. She took no offense; she was hooked on him as well. "I'd kind of like to get to the point where I'm not addictedand horny, which is probably an even worse state to be in."

She smiled at him. "You're my hero." She had no idea what she meant by that, but she did mean it.

They held each other for a while, sitting there soaking up each other's presence. No other boyfriend of hers had made such a big deal of simply holding her. Hugs had been rare in her lifetime. She knew the same was true for him. He was very sensitive to the tactile; touch and sound were just as important to him as sight, a rarity in today's visually-oriented world. He could see just fine, and he had his music to protect him, but who gave him hugs? Nobody, save his few fruitless relationships, and now Heather herself. So she held him, and let him drink in the sensations, and felt happy and protected in his arms.

After a while, she worked her hand under his shirt and started to pull it off. When he started to protest, she said, "Oh, come on, you know it's gonna happen eventually. Besides," and she hesitated, not sure how he would take this, "I like the skin contact. It's more fun without all these clothes on." He didn't object to that, and she felt emboldened.

She stood up and took off her shirt, revealing a simple white cotton bra, and then removed her pants and underclothes. Across from her, Colin divested himself of his garments, until finally they stood before each other, naked as the day they were born.

He blinked at her. "Well... Now what?"

"I dunno, what do you want to do," she asked. She felt hesitant of making a decision for some reason.

"I just want to hold you," he said.

"Does that mean no sex," she asked.

He shook his head. "It's not exclusionary. I'm okay with anything, but if there's one thing Idefinitely want to do, it's hold you for a while."

They lay down on the bed, spooning under the covers, his chest against her back. His arm wrapped around his waist, and she laid her own arm atop it. For some reason, he was not really thinking of sex at all, and after a few minutes passed, as they breathed and held each other, it became clear that she wasn't either. She wondered why they had gotten so solemn, and after a few moments, the reason came to her.

"I'm sad," she said.

"Hrm?"

"Because it has to end soon. Because I'll have to go home and the weekend will be over and we won't get another chance like this for... God, maybe forever. I mean, we'll meet during the summer, but... It'll be different. It won't be the same. It'll be in one of our houses and we'll have to worry about sisters and parents and-- ...It'll just be different."

He drew himself closer to her, comforting her with his presence.

"I mean... You know? It'll be sad," she said. "Because it won't be the same."

"Maybe it'll be better," he offered.

"I dunno," she said. "Everything just looks so bleak from here."

She could not put it in words, wasn't even sure she understood why she felt so bad. But she thought it had something to do with the weekend itself. The last twenty-four hours had been heaven: she had found love, she had had probably the best sex in her life, several times, and she had spent it all with someone who was increasingly beginning to look like the man of her dreams--sensitive and rational and wise and not afraid to be different. He would open doors for her and be just as comfortable if she opened them for him. There was not a lot more she could ask for. And this weekend had been filled with the wonder of discovering it all for the first time--his cock, his hands on her breasts, his lips on her pussy--or, in some cases,rediscovering it all, like his smile, his eyes, the innate gentleness of his hands. She took one of those hands in her own now, turning it over in front of her eyes, kissing the palm. He had a large hand, but not disproportionately so, with long capable fingers and a light down of hair on the back. He had played piano for several years; he had taken karate lessons for far longer. Neither seemed inappropriate for that hand.

She had discovered, rediscovered, this man over the course of their night and day together. She had fallen in love with him. For a short time, she had had him all to herself. And now that time would end.

What was she so afraid of? Did she think he would find someone else? That was unlikely. She loved Colin with all her heart, but she also knew he was hardly the charmer type. No one flung themselves at him. Beneath the surface, he was one of the most interesting people she had ever met, but he was quiet and reserved in public. His first impressions, she knew, tended to be that he was not a person of any great consequence. Before anyone gets to know you, you have to look interesting, and that was something Colin was not good at doing. No, wasafraid to do, really. She didn't want to try and untangle why he felt that way. He had tried to explain it once, and it had left her completely mystified. But the idea of someone picking him up was, in short, patently absurd.

Was it because she thought he would lose interest in her? That too was doubtful. By his own admission, he had been in love with her for basically as long as he had known her, which was the greater part of his life. Now he had her. He wouldn't abandon her any time soon. Unless she had read him completely wrong. He wasn't one of those fuck-and-run types, was he? It would be hard to find out, since she had been his first fuck. She'd just have to wait and see. But she seriously doubted it. Humor was in his nature, but dishonesty and frivolity were not. He took his friends and his loved ones seriously. Discarding a fourteen-year friendship in favor of a night of sex was not something she would ever expect from him.

Was it, then, simply because their time together was coming to an end? Had he truly become such an integral part of her heart? They would only be busy for three weeks, and surely there would be time for phone calls, for e-mails, maybe even for short visits to re-enact the events of this time in frantic abandon. Surely he had not become so important to her, surely not this quickly.

But she still had the feeling that it was the end of an era, one she would miss when it was gone. An era of light, of carefree happiness, of freedom. They could probably never be this unrestrained again--at least, not for a long time. And that was cause to mourn.

She sighed, turned over in his arms, clung to him. "Hold me. I feel cold."

He did. And when she cried--just a little--he kissed the tears from her face.

"Feeling better now," he asked when she had finished.

"Yeah," she said. "Kinda. I just... I dunno."

"Well, neither do I, but... It seems kind of pointless to be sad right now. We still have some time together. We should just... Enjoy having each other."

She blinked at him, wondering if he had caught the double entendre.

"Enjoy ourselves," he corrected, his brow furrowing. "Enjoy each other. Enjoy being together. Enjoy... Goddammit, how come everything I say has a double meaning right now?"

"Twisted and depraved is the mind of Colin Watson," Heather intoned, and then surprised herself by bursting into giggles.

"No, but seriously, I never have this problem normally, even when you're around me," he said. "And we're holding each other," he amended. "And we're naked. And I'm poking you down there. And--"

"Hell of a lot of amendments to that one," she laughed, and he broke into a smile as well.

"No, but honestly, Colin," she said. "This does interest me. Why aren't... I mean, we went over this before. I seem to be the sexually charged one nowadays. What about you, what do you think? How come I'm the active one here?"

He thought about it for a little while. "Well, it's not that I don't want to have sex with you. I'd be lying if I said that. But, at the same time... I don't want that to be all we do. I don't just want to think of you sexually and then nothing else. I want more than that. And youdeserve more than that. You're not just a sex object."

"Ican be, if you want," she said, a wicked grin on her face.

He shook his head. "No. We'll have sex, and maybe we'll have a lot of sex, and we'll enjoy it. But you're a woman, Heather, not just some receptacle that I can fuck. If I wanted one of those, I'd just buy one of those inflatable love doll things. Idon't want that. I want you."

"Inflatable love doll," she asked.

"You've never heard of them?"

"No."

"Seriously? I'd think you'd have... Well, they're like those plastic pool floater things, except that they're in the shape of a woman. And they have pussies."

"Real ones?"

"Goodness no, fake ones. But they tell me they can do remarkable things with silicone these days."

She shook her head, laughing. "The things people think of."

He gave her a wry smile. "You ain't seen nothin' yet. There's a company on the Internet that makes, not really love dolls, but more like store mannequins. Solid latex, fake hair, pussies, realistic faces, fully moveable joints, the whole works. Sells for like five thousand dollars online."

Heather shook her head, marvelling. "Modern technology at its finest. Do they have a guy one?"

"I dunno, probably. Why, thinking of replacing me with one?" He grinned.

She laughed. "Why would I do that? Latex doesn't tell me how much it loves me. Still, though. You kinda gotta wonder what kind of person would buy that. I mean, what kind of person can't get out and get laid?"

"Don't look at me," he said. He was conscious of the irony of the statement. Until twenty-four hours ago, he hadbeen one of those people--though he had never been desperate enough to buy a five-grand silicone sex puppet. "I wouldn't care one way or another, anyway. I've got all I need right here." He tightened his arms around her.

She gave him a secret smile. "Your very own love doll?"

He kissed her tenderly. "Emphasis on 'love.'"

She smiled. "There. I don't feel depressed anymore."

"Well, that makes me happy," he said.

She thought about it as they cuddled--his words, his resistance to sex to make sure she felt valued for more than her pussy. He had gone on the warpath when she once used the word 'cunt' in reference to her vagina; he thought it was more offensive than 'fuck.' She appreciated the thought, but at the same time, a little part of her was frustrated. Heather had never taken a real interest in sex until she realized how important guys thought it was, and then it became a tool that she could use, a source of power over them--especially given her looks. But after her fumbling experiences with sex, first with Trent and then later fooling around by herself, she had discovered a primal, sensual part of herself that loved sex, that lived for nothing but and was satisfied with nothing but someone's cock ramming into her pussy as she groaned and squealed, bucking back at him hungrily, wanting more. She had learned to cover that part of herself from prying eyes, as a woman shields her private parts with her hand, because she realized that it could be used against her, to tarnish her reputation. And in any case, sex with previous boyfriends hadn't been that satisfying anyway.

The irony, then, was that with Colin, she didn't feel ashamed at admitting that she loved it, flat out, she loved fucking, and would probably take him any time he wanted her. She didn't feel ashamed for herself, but she knew that others would expect her to be ashamed for liking sex, or be shocked that she wasn't ashamed, or be appalled that she liked sex in the first place. And so she hid, until she could find someone who didn't judge, who accepted what he saw. And that was Colin. Except that now that she had found him, as it turned out, he was practically doing his best to be celibate! What sort of luck was that?

But then she thought about what Colin had said. Her first experience had been with Trent, when she was fifteen and a sophomore and he was already on the way to the breakdown that would lead to his overdose and eventual confinement to rehab. He had been insistent, had refused to take no for an answer. She didn't think of it as rape, because it he had been completely zoned out, his actions and reactions blurred by the drugs in his system. And what he wanted to do was caress her boobs, stroke her clit, bring her to orgasm (andthen fuck her). It was a tricky line to walk, but she honored his intentions; he had been hoping to do something for her that she would enjoy, and she appreciated the spirit of the offer, even if the offer itself was displeasing. And ithad felt good, what he did--very good, in fact. But she still hadn't been sure she wanted him to do it. It had been a very confusing experience.

Later, experimenting on her own, she decided that she would let him do it again, but he had better ask first. She wasn't just there to be fondled at his beck and call. And from that point on, she had made it clear to her other boyfriends that No meant No. (She never really had another encounter with Trent, just some vague petting.) Not that she had said No very often, but when she said it, she made certain they listened.

Did she really want to be on call in that way? Did she really want to just be--how had he put it--some receptacle he could fuck? That had been what she was to Trent, and only the fact that somewhere, in his depression-and-heroin-deadened mind, he actually cared for her, had saved it from being a total disaster. Was that how she wanted Colin to treat her?

But Colinwouldn't treat her that way. She knew that, just as she knew that gravity pointed down, that the sun rose in the east and set in the west. Dishonesty and corruption were not in his nature. Even if she offered herself to him, any place any time and regardless of what she herself felt, he would not take advantage of her. He would be sweet, and considerate, and kind, and make love to her, not just have intercourse with her. What was that scientific term? Coitus. Would you say "coit" if you were trying to use it as an action word? Whatever the term was, he would not do it. She knew this with a conviction she could not explain, and didn't think she needed to. It was just a fact, immutable and unchanging, like the earth beneath her feet.

Colin had an encyclopedic memory for vocabulary, but she was pretty sure that if she asked him what the verb form of 'coitus' was, that dry, emotionless, scientific sex, he would not know the answer. She thought that was very appropriate. The word had no place in his vocabulary as it had no place in his life.

So, even if she offered, Colin would not take. But did she want to offer? Had she really offered to be nothing but a sex object? Did she really want to turn Heather Norwellyn into some sort of... Well, prostitute?

She knew the answer tothat one.

She sighed contentedly and snuggled closer into his embrace. "What's on your mind," he asked.

She smiled up at him. "I was just thinking that you're right about this whole just-holding-each-other thing. In some ways, it beats sex any day."

He smiled back. "That doesn't mean I'm not horny. I just try to keep a sense of perspective."

"I know," she said.And now I have some, too.

"It's not that I want you to be, you know, completely out of control," she said, picking up her train of thought as though she had vocalized the rest of it. "I like it that you... Show restraint. That you don't let it get the better of you when you want to fuck me. It makes me feel respected."

He smiled, his heart lifting. "Well, I do my best."

"But at the same time, you know... It doesn't have to be so rigid and all."

"Really? I thought when it was soft, it doesn't get anywhere."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "That's not what I meant. I meant your self-control. There's such thing as having none... But there's such thing as having too much, too. I think you could stand to lighten up a bit."

He grimaced. "I don't know about that." He hesitated, considering. What he was about to say could land him in deep, deep water. Maybe it would be best to just skip it... But no, he rejected that course outright. Colin's nature was one of unending practicality; he knew he would have to face this particular conversation eventually, and if it could not be outrun, then it should be confronted. He drew a deep breath. "I lightened up once. With Selena. It turned out... Bad. We basically haven't spoken since."

She fell silent. She got the implications. "I... I hadn't known that."

"Well, it's not something I'm proud of."

"I thought you were... Didn't you say you were a virgin?"

"Yeah. We didn't actually do intercourse. But everything leading up to it. And I was... Insistent. Decisions were made, and later reversed." His face was slack and weary. "And then regretted."

She weas shocked. She had never suspected. She thought about Trent.

Instantly her mind rebelled.No, no, that's not the same at all! Colin isn't riding for a breakdown! He isn't out of his mind! He's a gentle, kind man, he doesn't do things like force himself on a--