Courtin' Ain't EasybyD-Cutter©
There was but one car in the parking lot on this starry evening, and its windows were steaming up something fierce. Which was impressive, especially considering that it was the fourth of July. Inside the car, David and Deanna were necking like they were trying to extract each other's fillings.
Since they had become a couple two Decembers previous, much less since their engagement fifteen months earlier, there had been a line that they both, by unspoken agreement, had resolutely agreed not to cross, roughly corresponding to the romantic equivalent of "second base." But that resolution had faced the steady erosive force of their separation, which limited them to fortnightly visits which always threatened to unleash all the prior two weeks of pent-up passion.
This occasion, however, wasn’t just an ordinary visit. Usually David went to visit Deanna, and since she was living at home, the presence of her parents put the kibosh on any possibility of their getting carried away with each other. But this time Deanna had hopped the bus and surprised David for the fourth of July weekend, and they had been inseparable, spending a day at the water slides, getting together for a picnic with his extended family, and taking in the spectacular fireworks show earlier that evening.
Now they were alone, in David's car, tongues swapping spit like a bucket brigade. And without quite realizing how or when it happened, he became aware that his left hand was sliding over her right breast. Oh, Deanna's blouse and bra still separated their respective flesh, but his fingers were still doing the walking nippleward as though detached from his conscious mind's control.
Deanna must have realized this digital migration as she chose that moment to come up for air. "I…think we should probably be getting back," she said breathlessly.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Dee," David replied, "We're big kids now, and I know I don't have a curfew. Did my grandma put one on you?"
Deanna didn't return David's grin. "I mean it, Dave, I think we should be going. I feel crummy just about what we've been doing, and I don't want to make it worse by doing something more before we're ready for it."
She was right, of course. He knew how revved up his engine was at the moment - had he not been wearing denim shorts, his hardon would have torn through his crotch by now - which made acknowledging his fiancée’s wisdom all the more difficult. Especially since he knew that she was just as turned on as he was. He was a profoundly lucky fellow to have such a woman of beauty, virtue, and strength as she.
Still, locking her in a chastity belt would be easier, he thought.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." Straightening up behind the wheel, he started the engine.
Deanna leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I love you, David. And don't worry, you'll get hired soon, and then we can be married, and then…" she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Damn, if I don't get home and jerk off, I’m going to blow my load right in my pants, David thought. "You sure know the fine arts of torture, Dee," he quipped, not altogether tongue in cheek.
Dropping her off at his grandmother's house, David returned home, went to his basement room, shed his clothes, grabbed the jar of Vaseline, and digitally massaged away his frustrations. The first spurt of his cum shot clear across the room to splatter against the far wall. "Wow, a new record," he muttered dourly, even as his cock continued to twitchingly spew all its pent-up spunk.
Had he been with his beloved at that moment, he’d have been flabbergasted at what Deanna was doing with an under-ripe banana.
David had first met Deanna two Septembers ago at University. More specifically, he first saw her at the church he had begun attending. The first thing he noticed was her hair - he had always had a thing for brunettes, and she had the most gorgeous shoulder-length raven tresses he had ever seen. This observation led him to her eyes, which were big, bright, and the shade of blue that a guy could all but drown in. Traveling Southward she was sleekly slender yet deliciously curved. Pretty much the total package, or so his eyes told him.
David wasn't much given over to such superficialities, and wasn’t at all accustomed to lusting during a worship service, but he readily acknowledged that initial attractions were usually physical, and the strength of the butterflies he felt in his gut told him that he just had to introduce himself to this babe and finagle her phone number.
Not being what anybody would mistake for smooth or suave or subtle or sophisticated, nor the slightest bit experienced at dating, he decided to just walk up to her and, er, plow right ahead.
“Did you like Pastor Dan’s sermon? I really enjoyed it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, let me start again,” he said, trying not to blush. “Hi, I’m David. Did you like Pastor Dan’s sermon? I’ve always enjoyed the Song of Solomon.”
“I’m Deanna. Pleased to meet you,” she answered, not offering her hand. “I liked the sermon too. Though I haven’t been here very long, so I haven’t heard his whole series on that book.”
“Really? I just started going here too,” David offered, trying to keep up his momentum before her cool reaction could kill his nerve. “I’m starting my senior year at University. Are you going there too?”
“Yes. I’ve got another two years plus my internship.”
“What’s your major?”
“Recreation and Leisure Studies.”
“Wow, that sounds interesting. What is that about?”
“Well, that would take a while to explain,” Deanna said, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. David was no expert on body language, but he could tell that she was doing just about everything but checking her watch.
“I’m working on my Business degree,” he tried. “Just another Republican in training, I guess.” That brought a smile to her face, which thrilled him.
“Well, I enjoyed talking to you, but I’ve really got to get going.”
Thinking fast, David cut to the chase. “I liked talking to you too and, um, this might sound a bit forward, but can I have your phone number? `Cause I’d like to talk to you again.”
“Sure,” Deanna said, jotting it down. “But this is my parents’ phone number. I’m living with them while I’m going to school.”
David quickly wrote down his own number while that information was sinking in. “Here’s mine. Feel free to call if you want. Or I’ll call you.”
“Okay. Bye.” Then she was out the door.
Ordinarily, he’d have been bashing himself senseless for his pathetic clumsiness around girls and how he’d blown it again. He knew that he had been the antithesis of the “smooth operator” he wished he could be. But who cared? He got her phone number! Success was his! As far as he was concerned, he’d just met the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.
Deanna, for her part, was unsettled on her drive home. She had little dating experience either, and although her gorgeous exterior would never suggest it, she had been something of an “ugly duckling” growing up. Thick horn-rimmed glasses, a butch hairstyle, almost painfully thin, and a crooked front tooth about which she had always been sensitive. Now, in her mid-twenties, she had grown into a stunning beauty, but in her mind she was still the “plain Jane” she had always seen herself as. And it was that self-impression, she only dimly realized, that had caused her to unwittingly discourage any and all potential suitors for her affections.
Now, out of the blue, here had come this nice, if verbose, guy, seeking her out, talking to her, expressing a desire to see her again, and actually asking for her phone number! Nothing like that had ever happened to her before, and while she liked the feelings the idea was stirring up within her, it was a bit overwhelming as well.
She knew she would never call David on the phone – she’d never have the nerve anyway. But she wanted to see if he would actually back up his words by following through and giving her a jingle. That would be the test of whether this was the beginning of something special, or just, as her dad liked to say, someone who was “all hat and no cattle.”
David, for his part, wanted to phone her as soon as he got back to his one-bedroom off-campus apartment that Sunday afternoon, but he knew he had to wait for a few days to avoid scaring her off. He lasted all of forty-eight hours.
Heart ricocheting off his ribcage, and hoping one of her folks wouldn’t answer, David heard the lilting voice he’d hoped to hear – which sounded so sexy without trying that it almost derailed his train of thought. “Hi, Deanna? This is David. How are you? Busy, huh? Yeah, I’ve got a couple of midterms coming up myself. Say, I was wondering if you were free this Friday night. I thought maybe we could go grab a bite to eat and talk some more. You are? Great. Can you meet me at my apartment complex? We can go from there. Do you need directions? No? Okay, great. See you then. Bye.”
“EEEEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHHHOOOOOO!” he shouted. “Truly the just shall live by faith!” He had a by-God date with the by-God woman of his dreams.
Yes, that was a flagrant exaggeration; Deanna was really little more than a barely casual acquaintance. Anything romantic was probably months away if it was in the cards at all. Intellectually David knew this, but he also knew what he wanted. He’d never been a “playing the field” kind of guy. “Find `em, feel `em, fuck `em, forget `em” had never been and could never be his mindset. He was a hopeless romantic, and every interest he’d ever had in a girl was devoted toward a long-term relationship. He was in fact the antithesis of the stereotypical modern guy who was terrified of commitment. And, ironically, this was why he had had so little success with women. The intensity of his feelings and desire for commitment would scare them away, and they’d tell him they only “wanted to be friends.” Even though his heart was shoving him in that same direction with Deanna, he resolved to be patient and take things one step at a time.
Never had three days dragged like the next three, but finally it was Friday, and after spending a full hour in the bathroom scrubbing and primping and deodorizing and shaving and combing and brushing, he was clothed in deceptively casual duds. And there she was, right on time! And looking as hygienized and casually clad as did he.
They went to a smorgasbord where he tried to rein in his legendary prowess for overeating. This did not prove difficult for David, who ended up doing most of the talking. Deanna was a good listener, but she was also difficult to draw out. She either didn’t want to talk about herself or else there wasn’t much about herself to tell. But heck, David thought on the way home, it’s just the first date. There’s plenty of time.
Walking him to his door, Deanna wondered fearfully if David expected her to kiss him. All throughout their meal, she had been possessed by conflicting impulses. Being a private person, and still quite shy, she was reluctant to tell this stranger very much about herself, but on the other hand, she was so flattered by the attention he was lavishing upon her that she felt almost swept off her feet.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” David said gently. “Will I see you on Sunday?”
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Okay. Maybe we can sit together.”
“I’d like that.”
“See you then.”
And that was it. Deanna returned to her car in relief, but also with a warm feeling in her tummy that wasn’t connected with the King’s Table. A guy wanted her, but was willing to go at her pace. Maybe this was going to go someplace after all.
David carried out his vow to be patient, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be persistent. He took her out twice more, at no regard for the cost, and when he proposed a fourth outing, she countered with an offer to cook him dinner – at her parents’ house. That touched him so much that his feelings for Deanna began to grow despite his best efforts to control them. Ditto her folks’ warm welcome and hospitality.
The next week the two took a picnic lunch and climbed a nearby butte. The view from the top was breathtaking, but it was the view of her, cheeks flushed with the exertion of their hiking, that had David spellbound. The conversation seemed to make itself as she began opening up to him. And the more he learned about her, the closer to her he felt. It was as if they were soul-mates.
He was falling in love with her. And yet he couldn’t tell her that, for fear of bursting this bubble.
This was a contradiction of such absurdity that not even a romantic loser like he could remain inhibited by it for long.
Walking back to his apartment building from church one Sunday, David slipped his hand into hers, and the backed-up feelings began pouring out. “These last couple of months have been the best time of my life, Dee. And I’m really going to miss you over Thanksgiving break. Heck, I never thought I’d be reluctant to leave this hole to go home for a week. I wish I could stay.”
Deanna felt herself tightening up. She had grown accustomed to the casual, “just friends” relationship that she and David had developed, even though deep down she wanted it to be more. Now he was moving outside that box, and her natural demurring instincts took over.
Turning to face him at his door, she replied, “You’ve been a good friend to me, David, but you really do need to go home. I think the time apart will do us some good.”
She hadn’t kicked him in the nuts, but she might as well have. “A good friend.” Well, that was a buzz-killer. “I’ll always be your friend, Dee,” David gamely managed, “But I hope maybe we can be more.”
“I’ve got to get going, David. I’ll see you when you get back.”
Impulsively leaning his face down to kiss her, she turned her cheek, and then hurried off to her waiting car in the parking lot.
“Shit” he cursed to himself. All that patience and time invested, and she just “wants to be friends.” He didn’t know if he could settle for that. And so he drove home, with that unrequited romantic pall hanging over the American tradition of gastrointestinal excess and a marathon of bad football.
The following Saturday, the day before his return to school, the phone rang. “Hello,” his mother answered. “Oh, hi, Deanna. Yes, David’s right here. Hold on just a minute.”
David beelined for the phone like yellowjackets to a trash dumpster. “Hi, Dee.”
“I’m sorry, David,” came her lyrical reply. “I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that. I was just…well, overwhelmed. I’ve never had a guy pay this much attention to me before. I guess part of me thought that it was too good to be true and didn’t really believe that you were interested in me. And then when you took my hand and started talking about the last few months and your feelings, well, I suppose I panicked a little bit. I’d gotten comfortable with you being at arm’s length and didn’t know what to do when you started closing the distance. Can you forgive me?”
David’s eyes were coated with tears. “Sure, Deanna. I just want you to be happy.” And he meant it, too.
The following weekend he took her to a movie, anticipating some serious lip-locking. And when she let him put his arm around her, and saw her applying some breath spray as the lights went low, his pulse raced and his cock stiffened.
But…nothing happened. Periodically he looked over at her, but her attention was wrapped up in the flick. She appeared content just to cuddle with him and nothing more.
Patience, he reminded himself, patience.
When they returned to his car, he decided to take the bull by the horns. “Dee, since the windows are already steamed up, would you mind if I kissed you?”
Once again, Deanna panicked. “Um, yes, I would. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
DAMN it, David thought, more at her reticence than at his pushing too hard. She let me get a little closer, and now she’s shoving me away again.
There aren’t many places to go after that kind of rejection. So he drove her home in silence, and then returned to his apartment for some serious jerking off.
The thing is, he just couldn’t stay mad at her. Despite her romantic foot-dragging, he still wanted to be with her, still wanted to hear her voice, and when they were apart he was always thinking about her. “Hey, maybe I really AM in love,” he thought.
Deanna, for her part, spent every waking moment since the movie beating herself up. Why had she blown him off again? It wasn’t as if David had tried to get in her pants; nor did he just grab her and plant a smackeroo on her puss; he had asked, in as gentlemanly and romantic a fashion as any girl could ever dream of. And she had in effect told him to go pound sand, even as she had retreated to her room and rubbed herself to multiple orgasms. What was she so afraid of?
When David asked her to spend the day with him the following Saturday before he went home for Christmas break, she was so relieved that she hadn’t driven him away for good that she vowed to take their relationship to that next step.
When they returned to David’s place, he invited her in, and she accepted. As soon as the door closed, Deanna threw her arms around David’s neck, looked up into his eyes, and said softly, “Thank you for a wonderful three months. Would you mind if I kissed you?”
And their lips came together, and then parted to accommodate their questing tongues, and the osculation session was on.
But they both retained the necessary self-control, even though David’s erection had grown to painful proportions and Deanna was stifling moans in the back of her throat.
That held them for the next two weeks. Then David returned and made an “I could have had a V-8” head-slapping discovery: he had been so engrossed in his first serious relationship that he hadn’t bothered to go through on-campus interviewing, and now he didn’t have a job lined up for after graduation. How was he going to stay here with Deanna?
After that two-week anxiety attack, he lost himself in Deanna again. In every respect that he knew, it was like living a dream. Valentine’s Day was a particular highlight.
He had shopped painstakingly over Christmas break for the perfect Valentine’s gift, and he believed he had found it: a small, tear-shaped rose-gold locket with his and her pictures secreted inside. After taking her to a romantic dinner at the most expensive place in town, they returned to his place where he bestowed his gift upon her.
Deanna was so blown away by the locket and David’s loving thoughtfulness that her passion momentarily overwhelmed her. She sat on his lap and smothered him with kisses, then gently pushed him back on the couch and climbed on top of him. His arms went around her and their lips came together.
Yet somehow they refrained from passing second base. Perhaps it was his hands descending to her buttocks that served as the reminder; she pushed herself up to a straddling position, took his hands in hers, and kissed them, palms and front. He realized that she was putting on the brakes, but the way she did so was so kind and loving that it didn’t matter. Indeed, it made him love and respect her even more.
The next month was spring break, and he took her home with him to meet his parents. On the way, she snuggled up against him, and eventually fell asleep with her head in his lap. Finding that intolerably disconcerting, he gently awakened her and asked the first question that came into his mind.
“How do you feel about…oral sex? Hypothetically, I mean” he added hastily.
“I must still be asleep,” Deanna muttered, “I could swear I just heard you ask me about oral sex.”
“Never mind,” David backpedaled, wondering parenthetically if he could hypnotize her into sucking off (the car’s) gearshift. “Pity Penn & Teller aren’t here,” he thought with a chuckle.