How I Met My Wife #02

I was very proud that I was able to keep a straight face. "OK. And the same for you."

"What for me?"

"When you need to relieve yourself, let me know and I'll give you time by yourself."

Now it was her turn to be puzzled, so I put up my hand and made a tickling motion with my middle finger.

She thought for a moment then she understood. I'm pretty sure I saw her blush, and she just said "Oh, OK," then turned away and continued unpacking.

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That first day, Sunday, was just a normal day. I went to the gym, did some studying, and visited some friends in another dorm. It was late when I got back to the room. Erin was in Sandy's bed reading, so I got into my bed also. We each turned out our lights and, like the first night, Erin started talking, in the dark, across the room. She was hugging her pink pig tight to her chest.

I soon learned that this was her habit, and I started to look forward to bedtime as the best part of the day. Erin always had interesting stories to tell and she was completely fearless, telling me the most private and intimate details of her life and feelings She held back nothing. She told me about sad times, like when she broke up with her high school boyfriend (twice), and when she embarrassed herself forgetting her lines in a school play or getting caught lying to her Mom about something. She told me about the happy times, like when she did surprisingly well on an exam, or when her Dad sent her flowers on her birthday, which he did every year,

Most intimate of all, she told me about her worries. She wanted to be a veterinarian, but thought that the chemistry classes would be too hard and she'd never make it. She had no idea what to do with her life, was afraid of disappointing her parents, and didn't know how she was going to pay off her college loans. She had trouble making friends and was awkward in groups of people and didn't enjoy parties and felt different than other people. She worried a lot. Don't we all?

So this became our habit. Every night we'd turn off the lights and talk. In truth, she did most of the talking. I listened, made a few comments now and then and occasionally added an anecdote from my own life. I'm not as fearless as her, so I couldn't match her candor -- and I probably wouldn't have been able to interrupt anyway. Gradually, her voice would get quieter and finally stop and she'd be asleep. Every night, just like the first, she talked herself to sleep.

In case you're interested -- after she stopped talking, she slept very soundly, so I had no trouble finding time to "relieve" myself. I never had to ask her to leave the room.

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I soon discovered that Erin wasn't kidding when she warned me about not being a prude.

That very first morning after she moved in, I woke up and saw that Erin's bed was empty. I was sitting on the edge of my bed trying to wake up when Erin came in, back from a shower, wearing a short robe and a towel around her hair, and, of course, her big glasses.

She saw that I was awake, smiled at me, and started talking. She was telling me about some research paper she was working on for a history class about some guy named Eugene V. Debs who was a presidential candidate from long ago. While she's telling me all this, she toweled off her hair, then took off her robe and went scavenging around looking for clothes. There she was, buck naked, hunting for panties while chattering about socialists and labor unions.

That first day she moved in, when she'd talked about where she'd change clothes, I'd imagined that I'd be seeing her in underwear, like maybe bra and panties. That was pretty common in the dorms, so wasn't a big deal. I wasn't expecting stark naked. But there she was.

She found her panties, and before she put them on, she stopped-- in mid-sentence of course-- and looked at me, and it occurred to her that this was a little unusual. "I'm not embarrassing you or anything am I? Maybe I should get dressed somewhere else? I'm not modest or a prude or anything so it doesn't bother me, but it's not like you're family or anything so maybe you don't want me to ..." Her boobs were looking straight at me, but I was trying to be a gentleman, so I kept my eyes on her face. Almost. She put on her panties.

I interrupted and assured her that I wasn't at all offended, embarrassed, distressed, or uncomfortable, and that she shouldn't hesitate to get undressed in front of me. Truer words were never spoken. She was reassured and resumed telling me about the Workers of the World while she hunted for a bra.

She was never in a hurry to cover herself when getting dressed, so I had plenty of time to look. She had a nice body, petite, of course, with smallish boobs, appropriate for a smallish girl. Her boobs were nicely shaped and curvy, and her nipples a deep rosy pink, a little bigger than I would have expected. The nipples were deliciously pointy and were tilted, just slightly, upward toward the ceiling. There was a small amount of baby fat around her tummy and upper arms. Her pussy had a sparse collection of fine, lightly colored hair, and her lips were fairly prominent, with not much pubic hair to hide behind. Her butt was nicely shaped and a little bit big for her size, as were her thighs. Her feet were impossibly tiny. Very nice. Very, very nice.

Her lack of inhibition extended to her conversation. No topic was off limits for her. One morning, after she had gotten dressed, she was taking her daily birth control pill and casually commented, "My period will be starting Wednesday. Don't worry if I'm a little crabby. I always get crabby when I've got my period coming. I'm out of tampons. You don't have any do you?" I shook my head, and she continued, laughing. "See, that's the disadvantage of having a boy for a roommate..."

Then she launched into a convoluted explanation of why she was on birth control pills -- how she and her boyfriend had been using condoms, and there were always condoms available around her house so her boyfriend didn't have to pay for them, and she and the boyfriend were ok with them and they were really careful but her mom had a panic attack when the daughter of a friend of a friend, or maybe it was the girlfriend of the son of a friend, got pregnant and made her start taking the pills, and how she liked them because she didn't have to remember to use condoms and she knew when her periods were going to start and the zits on her face cleared up...

It went on for many minutes and there were so many characters with so many names, it was like a Russian novel. I lost track of the details. Erin's stories were often like that.

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Many of Erin's bedtime chats were about her family. She was very close to them and there was much she wanted to talk about.

One night she told me about the time that her parents had a big fight and she and her brothers were afraid that mom and dad were going to get divorced. The fight was something about money -- that mom's sister needed money for her son who had done something or whatever (I didn't follow the details.) The fight lasted for days and Erin and her brothers were getting more and more worried and talking among themselves and getting themselves all worked up until finally they decided that they just had to sit their parents down and tell them that they couldn't get divorced, but when they did have the talk with their parents they found out that nobody was thinking about getting a divorce and everybody still loved each other and everybody fights sometimes and ...

This had happened years ago, when Erin was fourteen, but the fear in her voice as she told the story was as raw as if it were happening today.

But most of the stories about her family were happy times. She told lots of pool stories. They had a backyard pool at their house, and in the summers they spent as much time swimming as they could. The family usually had dinner by the side of the pool and as soon as it was dark and the neighbors couldn't see through the trees, they'd take off their clothes and go skinny dipping, and sometimes they'd just float around in the pool or just horse around, but sometimes they'd play water polo, with Erin and the twins on one team and the older brother and Mom and Dad on the other, and you can't play water polo with her three brothers with bathing suits on because the brothers will grab hold of your suit and dunk you and it's really hard to get away, but if you're naked you're slippery and its harder to grab you...

There was always more to any story... sometimes her boyfriend would play water polo too but he wore a bathing suit the first few times because he was embarrassed to take it off in front of her mother and her brother's girlfriend, but eventually he got sick of being dunked and everybody made fun of him so he went skinny dipping too, but last year a big tree fell down in a storm and now Mom is worried that neighbors might be able to see so they have to keep all the lights off when they're skinny dipping but that's stupid because the neighbors would have to be using binoculars to see anything and what's the difference anyway if they see and it's really hard to play water polo in the dark so sometimes they leave one light on...

I could almost hear her smiling, in the darkness, across the room, hugging the pink pig.

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Erin often wanted to talk about her future, and after the topic grew stale, we turned it around a little. We talked about Sandy and Marilyn's future, each of us making outrageous predictions. Soon we got past the easy stuff -- divorce, jail, fat dirty children, etc. -- and we got more creative.

My predictions were -- I have to confess -- mean-spirited. My best one was that they'd have two children and when the children were teenagers, they'd conspire to kill their parents because they couldn't stand them anymore. I devised the complete details of the murder plot, how they planned it, how they carried it out, how Sandy and Marilyn suffered (terribly), and how the children got away with it. I considered making it into a pilot for a TV show.

Erin's predictions were, characteristically, upbeat, mostly stories of redemption. In one of her stories, Sandy went to prison for embezzlement, where he finally focused on the meaning of his life. He became a jailhouse counselor, helping other inmates get their lives together and become model citizens. He was released early for good behavior, and dedicated his life to helping unemployed people learn work skills. Sandy and Marilyn became foster parents, caring for disabled and drug-addicted babies that nobody else would take.

I thought my predictions were more likely to be true, but I had to admire Erin's positive outlook. Probably, Sandy will become a rich Wall Street trader and Marilyn will be a senator. There was a movie like that.

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After she moved in, I had plenty of opportunity to see Erin naked—nearly every day, in fact. Much as I enjoyed that, it was an even greater turn-on watching her do yoga.

Erin does yoga every morning when she doesn't have an early class. She puts a mat on the floor and does a variety of positions and exercises. It's not really yoga I don't think, but that's what she calls it. Yoga isn't normally done while talking, but that's how Erin does it.

She starts off with what she calls the lotus position, but it isn't really a lotus position. The soles of her feet are together and her toes are knitted, like fingers on praying hands. I didn't know that was even possible, but she does it effortlessly. She stays in that position for a few minutes, then does leg lifts, back arches, pelvic stretches, and whatever else she feels like doing. Not yoga at all.

When she first moved in, I used to watch from my bed, enjoying the view. She does the exercises in her night clothes, which were a tank top or t-shirt and bikini panties. Her nipples would be poking through the top and sometimes, depending on her position, the cloth would fall away a little and I'd get a view of the roundness of her boob or maybe, if I was lucky, even a nipple. The panties didn't cover much of her butt and I could watch the butt and thigh muscles tensing and relaxing as she exercised. There was usually a little pubic hair sticking out of the crotch of the panties and sometimes even a little bit of a lip. Very erotic.

Every morning, she'd tease me and tell me that I should get down on the floor and do yoga with her -- that it would be good for me. I'd tell her that I was too tired, but she persisted and eventually she decided to just throw off my covers and pull me out of bed.

I have to confess that the reason I was reluctant to do yoga with her is that I was afraid about morning wood. I only wear boxers at night and any wood was going to be pretty obvious, but I didn't have a choice once she started pulling me out of bed. It wasn't too many days before it happened, and she saw me trying to hide it with a blanket while she was pulling the covers off.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "You think I've never seen a stiffy before? I've got three brothers you know. When you live in a house with three brothers, there're stiffies everywhere. It doesn't bother me. Come on, get up." So I got out of bed with my cock leading the way, pushing the front of my boxers. She took a look at the tent pole in my boxers and said matter-of-factly, "Don't worry. It will go away once you start exercising." It did.

So I ended up doing yoga in the mornings with her, with me in my boxers and her in her tank top and panties. I talked her into letting me go to the bathroom first, to pee and brush my teeth, but that was the only concession she'd make. If I didn't get out of bed on my own, she'd pull me out, whether I had wood or not.

She showed me the exercises she wanted me to do, taking hold of my back or my legs or my arms and moving them to the right position. She'd sit on my back while I was doing leg lifts to keep me from arching. She'd hold my shoulders still while I did neck exercises, and she showed me how to lift and support her chest, holding her from above, while she did some sort of back exercise. Every morning, she'd try to knit my toes together, but it never worked and we'd end up giggling.

She showed me something she'd learned from her mother. She had me lie down on the mat, face down, then she'd walk on my back, barefoot of course, using her heel and toes to massage the muscles in my shoulders. She said her mom used to do that for her dad when he came home from work tired, and that she also used to do it for her brothers sometimes. It was important not to walk on the lower back, but the upper back and butt were safer. She asked me to do it for her, but since I was much heavier, I had to keep one foot on the floor and just use the other foot to massage her. She liked it best on her butt, and sometimes, in the evening, she'd ask me to do it for her as a study break. She'd take off her jeans and lie down and I'd give her a butt-massage.

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We roomed together like this for months, through exams and Christmas break, into the new semester. The first morning after we were back, we were doing yoga, just like normal, and I was sitting on Erin's legs while she did sit-ups. She was telling me about some silly Christmas present that her brothers had given her, when suddenly she stopped chattering, in mid-sentence. She paused and looked at me and said, "Do you think we should, like, kiss or something?"

The question caught me completely off guard and it took me a moment to realize that she'd changed the subject, so I didn't respond immediately.

She looked away, blushed a little, and started another sit-up and resumed chattering about Christmas presents.

I interrupted her. "Yes," I said.

"Yes what?" she asked.

"Yes, I think we should kiss or something."

"Oh, that. You don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought I'd ask..."

"I want to." It was the truth. I did want to. I'd wanted to for weeks.

"You do?"

"Yep."

"Oh, Ok. You mean right now? Is this a good time? Or should we do it later? You don't have to if you don't think it's right..."

"Now is good," I said. I got off of her legs and we both got onto our knees, kneeling, facing each other.

Erin took off her glasses and laid them on the mat. "I thought it would be better without..."

I took my fingers and put them on her lips. "Shhh..." I said. She stopped talking and I held my fingers on her lips. I took advantage of the silence, "I have a rule about kissing."

"What's that?" she asked, moving her lips against my fingers.

"No talking. Absolutely no talking while kissing."

"Oh, OK, that makes sense. You can't talk and kiss..." she answered, and I shhhh'ed her again, and she realized that she was talking. She pursed her lips together to show me that she would stop.

It was an effort for her, but she did stop talking. She looked at me, and I moved my fingers away from her lips. We came close together and kissed. It was just a few moments but it was very nice.

We broke the kiss and I could tell she was getting ready to talk again, so I figured I'd better keep her lips busy. I went back for another kiss.

This kiss wasn't brief at all. It grew from friendly and romantic to full blown passionate kissing, and I could hear Erin sighing very softly. I opened my eyes briefly and saw that hers were closed, and I saw the happiness on her face. I put my arms around her and held her. There was a full "stiffy" making a tent in my boxers. I wasn't exercising anymore, so it wouldn't be going away.

We continued kissing for many minutes, then we came up for air, and her eyes opened. I put my hands on the hem of her tank top and began to lift it. She asked "What are you doing? Are you going to..."

While she was asking, she'd put her arms in the air so that I could get the top off, so I answered simply, while I was lifting it over her head, "I'm going to play with your boobs." I threw the top aside.

"Oh, OK. That sounds like a good idea. Do you want me to..."

Once again, I put my fingers to her lips. She quieted, her lips pressed hard against my fingers, and I explained, "I have the same rule about boobs that I have about kissing."

"What's that? No talking?"

"That's right. No talking while your boobs are being played with."

She pursed her lips together, indicating silence, and I moved my hands to her boobs, cupping each in a hand and massaging its nipple with my thumb. The nipples were puckered and super-hard and pointy and I couldn't resist, so I moved my mouth down and began to kiss and gently suck and lick, first one, then the other, then back to the first, then back to the second, kissing and sucking and massaging the nipples with my thumbs.

Erin was gasping with each suck, and I could tell that she having trouble holding the silence. She was trying as best she could, but there was a limit on what she could do, so I temporarily moved away from her boobs. I put my arms around her and gently laid her backward, onto the yoga mat. Then I put my hands on the waistband of her panties, and she couldn't restrain herself any more. As she spoke, she lifted her hips, and then her feet, so I could get the panties off. "Are we going to..."

I interrupted her immediately. "Shhhh.... No talking," I told her. I put my fingers on her lips again, quieting her, and she looked at me, wide-eyed.

I removed my boxers and she opened her legs. Her lips were wide open now, and I touched and massaged inside, feeling the soft smooth wetness. I touched each lip and the clit, gently rubbing with juices from inside her. I could tell she was very ready so I brought my cock to her opening and entered her, very slowly because she was so tiny and I was afraid of hurting her. Her pussy was tight and warm and wet around my cock, and I could feel her stretching to fit me. I moved a little bit at a time, each motion going just a little deeper inside. Her mouth was open, not talking, but in an expression of astonishment. Her eyes were wide open and locked to mine.