Every Christmas Needs a Virgin

Still pale, he stared into my eyes as he placed his arm around my shoulder. "You're sure you're not mad? Because I don't want anything to make you not like me."

So young, I thought. So earnest. So very lovable. "Don't worry about that. I like you very much. You're a lovely young man."

"As long as you don't think of me as a child."

"Declan, you're taller and stronger than I am. You're clearly not a little boy."

"Doesn't stop everyone from treating me like one."

"Well, we're all older than you. And you came to your uncle and aunt needing their help with some basic skills. Both those things tend to make people look at what you can't do and haven't experienced, rather than what you can do, and have."

He pulled me closer. "I'm not a child."

"I know. You're a grown man."

For a few seconds, neither of us said a word. The, his blue eyes huge, he leaned into me. "Is it OK if I say I want to kiss you?"

"It's OK, but it's not a very good idea. I'm supposed to be your friend, no more." But I didn't back away.

"I want you to be my friend, but I still want to kiss you."

"That makes two of us."

"I've never kissed a girl. I don't know what to do."

Throwing caution and morals to the wind, I pushed myself up till our faces were level. "It's easy." I pressed my lips to his and gave him a brief, soft kiss. "See?"

The tender smile he gave me reached all the way into my core. I shivered.

"That felt wonderful. Can I try?"

In for a penny... "I'd like that."

Carefully gathering me into his arms, he tilted his head slightly and moved in. This time, he put a little pucker into it, then let his lips relax, as if he were trying to determine the most effective way to kiss me. I kissed back, matching his movements, and my body began to hum with electricity. He opened his lips, and I gently pushed my tongue into his sweet mouth. He stiffened, clearly not expecting this, then relaxed as he discovered the fun of it all. After several seconds of this, he pulled away.

"I feel like our mouths were made for each other," he breathed. "So soft. So sexy." He bent towards me again, and this time, we both stayed relaxed as the slow, easy kisses flowed between us. One hand drifted to my breast, and I moaned as the heel of his hand moved along the curve at its underside.

"Are you making out or swimming?" a voice above us demanded, and we broke apart, disoriented. We looked up into the exasperated gaze of an older man I knew slightly from morning swims. "Oh. It's you. Sorry to nag, hon, but the pool's full and if you're not using the lane, I want to."

"Of course. We were just about to leave."

"Really? From that little moan, I'd have said you were just about to come." He winked at me and waddled over to the bench to get his gear. I stared at him in disbelief. In two years of casual acquaintance, he had never said anything remotely like that.

"You sure have some interesting friends," Declan observed, hoisting himself out of the pool and stretching out a hand to help me up. I joined him on the deck as the man returned.

He held out a pudgy hand to me. "I'm Mack."

"Angela."

"Nice to finally know your name." He winked again. "And you, young man. Who're you?"

"Uh, Declan. Sir."

They shook hands. "Lemma tell ya, something, Dec. Angie's a good one. Smart and classy. Treat her right, do as she says, and don't let her go."

"Yes, sir. That's my plan."

Mack eyed me. "He's a nice kid. Top shelf. Teach him well, and you'll have the perfect servant for the rest of your life."

As we both gaped at him, he jumped in and paddled away.

Declan stood in one smooth motion, then helped me up, mouth quirking. "Perfect servant, at your service."

"I can't believe he said all that."

Declan chortled. "He's hilarious. I'll have to take out a membership here, just for the entertainment."

He held the door for me and we stood dripping in the corridor.

"I need a shower," I decided. "Let's meet in the lobby in fifteen or twenty."

"Me too. Sounds good."

Two of my favorite features of the shower room are the private stalls and the detachable shower heads. The young moms like using them to clean off their waterlogged kids, the older adults appreciate being able to direct the hot water at places that no longer bend or open easily, and I think we all appreciate not being on display. I turned on the water, shucked off my suit and grabbed the shower head. The water pressure here varies but it always feels awfully good to aim the streams of warm water at my crotch and see how far the pulsing stimulation on my clitoris can take me towards orgasm. Already aroused from my contact with Declan, I thought about the feel of his body against mine -- and found today's water pressure more than enough to take me to the edge and push me over, especially once my fingers got into the act. If Mack could only hear me moan now, I thought with amusement.

Belatedly emerging from the locker room, I found Declan on a bench in the lobby, scrolling though websites on his phone. I sat down beside him. "Whatcha looking at?"

"Oh, just stuff. I still can't believe all the things people post on the internet. My dad would have had a stroke."

"Why?"

"Well, you know he was an off-the-grid kinda guy, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"He believed the government was already in everybody's business and it was stupid to make it easier for them. Any time we went to the store, he paid with cash, no matter what we bought. He didn't use shopper reward cards -- said that was just another way for Big Brother to track us. He refused to do anything online if he could help it. No banking, no shopping, no email, no smartphones, and no social media. He thought social media was a plot to enslave us all."

Staring at the ceiling, I considered this. "Well, there's something to that. I spend way too much time on social media. It's addictive. And people are always getting hacked or getting their data stolen. Maybe we really are just opening ourselves up to anyone who wants to harm us."

"You'd make a good conspiracy theorist." We both laughed. "Dad did have a lot of good points, but if I've learned anything in the last year, it's that you have to live in the real world."

"So how do you see yourself doing that?"

He held up his phone. "I have one of these, and an email account, and I'm on Twitter. That's about it."

"Very smart. I can tell you'll be my teacher one of these days."

He looked pleased at that. "So you see us as having a future?"

"As friends, definitely."

"Nothing more?" He spoke lightly, but I felt his body tense.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I loved our kisses in the pool, but Blake explicitly told me to leave you alone, and I told him I would. I had the feeling your family felt the same way. I don't want to betray that trust."

He put an arm around my shoulders, and without thinking about it, I snuggled in.

"Here's the thing -- it's true that I don't have any friends, and I am a young guy with plenty of hormones. So it would be very easy to throw myself at the first girl who smiled at me." He paused. "And maybe that's what's happening here. But I don't think so. It feels natural as breathing to talk to you and be with you. I do feel kind of fluttery in the middle when you smile at me, but it's more than that." Sighing, he squeezed my shoulder. "But what do I know? I'm just a socially inept virgin."

"I really don't think you qualify as socially inept anymore, assuming you ever did."

"Oh, I did," he assured me. "I didn't know what to say to anyone, so I always said the wrong thing."

"I'll take your word for it. You're brighter than most, so that's going to intimidate some folks, but look at how well you've done with me. And Mack, for that matter. You impressed him in less than 10 words."

"He saw how I was looking at you, that's all."

"Maybe, but you still said the right things." The clock caught my eye as my stomach rumbled. "I'm starved. How about brunch?"

"What's brunch?"

I bit my lip. His upbringing had left him with some strange gaps. "Combination of breakfast and lunch. It's delicious. You'll love it."

He stood up. "Two of my favorite meals! Lead me to it."

Leaving his car at the pool, I drove us to Natalie's, my favorite brunch spot ever. It took roughly 30 seconds for Declan to assess the buffet and embrace the flavor orgy. His plate piled high with pastries, bacon, fruit and even a small quiche, he joined me at our table and licked his lips.

"Looks fabulous. Bon appetit!" I forked up some eggs with herbs and a piquant English cheddar, making sure to savor my mouthful. Natalie's didn't come cheap, but nobody else in town could touch her quality and I figured this was a morning to splurge.

His eyes closed as he chewed his first bite of spinach and parmesan quiche. "This might be the best thing I've ever put in my mouth."

"Really? May I try a bite?"

He cut off a bite and leaned forward, bring his fork gently to my mouth. I closed my lips around it and pulled back as he watched, rapt.

"Delicious!"

"You're incredibly sexy," he said in a low voice. "I could feed you all day."

I gave him a wicked grin. "We don't have that sort of relationship, mister."

"Tell me what I need to do to make that sort of relationship happen."

"I'll send you an application."

The rest of the meal passed in a pleasant haze of flavor and flirtation as we tried new foods and occasionally fed each other. I found myself not thinking about our age difference, instead concentrating on our common ground. He knew a great deal about classic science fiction -- "my dad loved Robert Heinlein and Isaac Asimov. He said they were two of the smartest men ever" -- and, unexpectedly, my favorite, Diana Gabaldon.

"Dad loved her books, mostly for the survivalist parts. He always said most modern people wouldn't last a week if all their technology and conveniences were taken away. He was always making me do without, just to make sure I could hack it."

"What do you mean, do without?"

"Like, he'd go to the fuse box and flip the handle and say, 'no power for the next four days. Figure it out.' Then I'd have to figure out how to get by. It wasn't too bad in the summer, but in the winter, it could get pretty cold in my room. We had a wood stove, but the heat from didn't vent to my room. I'd wind up either using my zero-degree sleeping bag, or dossing down in the living room with the stove."

"Sounds nippy. How'd you do your homework without a computer?"

"Dad home-schooled me. No homework -- at least, no traditional homework. We did a lot of hiking, and he taught me about all the plants we'd see, and when we got back home, I'd study them to see how we could use them."

"Use them?"

"Yeah -- were they edible, or poisonous? Could you make medicine from them? Like that."

I nodded my comprehension, and he continued. "Sometimes he'd give me math or science problems to work out while I chopped wood for the stove. He was always giving me challenges to make me think. He said critical thinking and problem solving were dying skills in America, and he wanted to be sure I developed them."

"He loved you."

He thought about that. "Yeah. He did. He wasn't big on saying it, or hugging me, but he wanted the best for me -- as he saw it."

Over our desserts, we kicked around the differences between theory and reality when it came to politics and human behavior. His grasp of human nature surprised me, and I told him so.

"I've been in therapy ever since I moved in with Tia Patty and Uncle Sean. I was bound to pick up a few truths here and there."

"You know, sometimes you sound as if you're forty, not twenty."

"Twenty-one," he corrected.

"Twenty-one," I conceded. My gut clenched and I decided a bathroom break was in order. "'Scuse me. Be right back."

Seeing a small red stain on my panties, I rolled my eyes and groped in my purse for a tampon. Of course I'd get my period two days early in the middle of the best time I'd had in months. The tampon slid in easily, probably due to both period and arousal. I dabbed at the blood, but to no avail. Best to get home, change and throw my knickers in the wash.

At the table, I signaled for our bill. "Sorry to end this, but it's time for me to go," I told Declan. He looked disappointed, then sat up straight as the waitress handed me the check.

"What do I owe?"

I placed my credit card in the plastic holder and put it near the edge of the table. "Not a thing. It's on me."

"I thought the man was supposed to pay -- or at least cover his share." Easing his wallet out of his back pocket, he opened it and looked at me expectantly.

"You're my guest. I pay."

Sighing, he closed his wallet as the waitress swept by and grabbed my card. "I'll never get the hang of all this."

"Our society does have a lot of weird rules. One day, you might understand them all."

"Or not."

"True enough."

The waitress dropped the card and receipt in front of me. "Here you go. Thanks for visiting!"

Back in my car, he drummed his fingers on his thigh as I drove us back to the pool to pick up his car. "This has been the best morning. Thank you."

"It has been pretty special."

"Would you ever want to see me again?"

I was surprised he had to ask. "Of course. I'd like that very much."

"Cool." He fell silent, watching the wintry scenery pass before picking up his phone to check an incoming message. "Tia Patty just texted me and asked if you'd like to join for dinner again Monday."

Thinking for a second, I couldn't remember any plans for that evening. "Tell her I'd be delighted."

He typed and waited for a reply. "Is six OK?"

"Sure. I'm off at five. Plenty of time to go home and change."

"Cool." He fiddled with the phone again, and stared out the window as I turned in at the parking lot. "I wish we could spend the rest of the day together."

"That would be nice, but it's impossible." I winced as a strong cramp shot through my abdomen. "I have some things to do."

"You OK?"

I shrugged. "Cramps."

"From what?"

"From my period. I just got it."

"Oh." He looked at me, out of his depth. "Do they hurt much?"

"Enough to make me want to go lie down with a hot water bottle and a novel for the rest of the day."

"Sounds like a smart plan."

"You're not squicked out by my period?"

He looked surprised. "Why would I be? It's just a biological process. Nothing to get fussed about -- although I'm just as glad I don't have to have them." He paused as I pulled up next to his car. "I'm sorry you don't feel well."

"Thanks."

He unbuckled his seat belt. "Would it be OK if I kissed you goodbye?"

I smiled at him. "I'd like that."

He leaned over, touching my cheek with a cool finger. "You're beautiful." Eyes closed, he moved in, and his mouth tasted of chocolate and almond. I'm not sure how long that kiss lasted, but I had forgotten about my cramps and pretty much everything else in my life by the end of it.

"See you Monday," I said as he opened his door.

He turned back, and his sweet expression made me want to melt. "Can't wait!"

**

As the next weeks passed, we developed a routine: dinner and games three nights a week at the Sullivan home, and Saturday mornings at the pool for a private lesson, sometimes followed by a brief hike at a local park, then food. On game nights, Patty had the best handwriting, so she usually kept score, and she had a graceful and funny way of getting us through any awkward pauses. Not that we had too many of those anymore.

I found myself liking the entire family more and more, and Declan... Somehow, he managed to make me forget the age difference whenever we got together. At the house, we talked of everything under the sun, bickering and bantering as the mood dictated, enjoying the chemistry sparking between us. At the pool, his swimming improved steadily, and I looked forward to the horseplay and kissing that ended each lesson. He kept his hands above my waist, as did I to keep my promise, but the kissing became downright combustible, to Mack's great satisfaction.

"Kid, you're doing great!" he told Declan the Saturday before Christmas. "I've never seen her look so happy -- and the water here has never been so warm. You two make an ironworks look cold."

I blushed as Declan grinned. "Thanks, Mack. I'm working hard to become the perfect servant."

The older man cackled. "Good for you, kid. Study hard and maybe you'll graduate cum louder."

I groaned. "That was terrible."

"I'm a dirty old man who loves bad puns. Sue me." He jumped in, and Dec and I scrambled out of the pool.

In the lobby, face still pink from his hot shower, Dec gave me a kiss on the cheek. "You're really coming for Christmas? Promise?"

I hugged him. "I'm really coming for Christmas. Promise."

Patty had invited me the previous evening after I'd confessed I didn't have holiday plans.

"My parents jetted off to Europe to celebrate their 35th anniversary, so I'm alone this year," I had told them.

"Nonsense," Patty had replied. "Come spend it with us. You're practically family at this point anyway."

"I've known you a month," I'd countered, nonetheless touched by the offer.

"You're a cherished old friend we haven't known very long. Come over, hang out, and let me do the cooking." Mischief lurked in her eyes as she alluded to the night I had tried to prepare dinner. We had wound up ordering pizza; luckily, no one had needed to go to urgent care.

I'd rolled my eyes. "Just for that, you're on. What time do you want me here?"

"We eat around five or six, depending on what I forget and have to send Sean to the store to buy. How about four?"

"Sounds great! Shall I supply the wine?"

She had laughed. "You can bring anything you want."

"As long as I didn't cook it?"

"Exactly!"

Declan nuzzled my cheek, bringing me back to the present "It'll be neat to celebrate with you."

I kissed him lightly. "Likewise. I just don't know what to do about presents."

"Don't worry about that," he assured me. "No one expects presents, and my family isn't big on a gift grab anyway. We all gave each other just one or two presents last year. It was nice."

"I don't like showing up empty handed."

"You're bringing wine. That's plenty."

We strolled out of the natatorium. The weather had warmed up to spring-like temperatures.

"What glorious weather!"

"Enjoy it while you have it," Declan advised. "That front's coming through this afternoon; it'll be freezing again by tonight."

Ignoring him, I dropped my bag to stretch and luxuriate in the sun.

"Do that again?"

"Do what again?"

"Stretch. I love how you stick out your chest when you do that."

I stuck out my tongue at him. "Perv!" Nevertheless, I stretched one more time, making sure to stick out my chest, and added what I hoped was a sexy wiggle. He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed yet again, a slow, sensual buss that made me wish I hadn't made that promise to Blake.

"Get a room!" a teenager shouted from a passing pickup truck, and we moved apart, giggling. He draped one arm around my shoulders as we walked to our cars.

"Would you like that?" he asked.

"Would I like what?"

"To get a room. To be together."

I decided to tell the truth. "I'd love to do that. I'd love to be your first. But I swore I wouldn't."

"But you made that promise before you even met me," he protested. "You can't tell me it still counts."

"Actually, I think it does. Blake worries about you. He loves you. He wants the best for you, just like Patty and Sean. He and I are old friends and I'm not going back on my word until he -- or your aunt and uncle -- say it's OK."

"I'm not a kid. What you and I do is between a man and a woman who care about each other. Blake and Uncle Sean and Aunt Patty aren't part of what's happening between you and me. They don't get a vote."