Michelle and Matt

Author's note: This story involves an engaged couple, not a married couple, but I still think it belongs most appropriately in Loving Wives.

*****

To really understand what happened, you have to know about Michelle and the way she was raised.

Michelle Hardison grew up in Carey, Ohio, a small town in the northern part of the state. Her father Tom was Vice-President of the First Citizens National Bank, which gave Michelle a certain status among her friends. And since Michelle was an only child; and since her dad was a kind but distant sort of man, who didn't spend much time with her; and since her mother Diane was a housewife who was lonely and didn't have enough to do, Michelle grew up into a sweet but somewhat spoiled girl.

When she wanted horseback-riding lessons, she got them—even if it meant her mother driving her two hours there and back twice a week. When she wanted a cell phone, she got one—even though none of her classmates had one yet. And when she wanted a big circus-themed 12th birthday party, with a clown and an inflatable jumping house, she got them as well.

Michelle was a shy girl, somewhat skinny and quite unremarkable in looks. She had a few friends, but was never at the center of the social whirl in school. And until Matt Pokorny became her boyfriend in 10th grade, she'd never had a date, never done anything sexual, never even kissed a boy.

Matt was shy, like her, and it took the two of them months of glancing at each other in class, sitting with various groups of kids in the school cafeteria, and working together on group projects before he finally got the nerve to sit next to her on the school bus one morning.

A couple of weeks later, Matt asked her out to the movies. Within a few weeks after that, they were going steady. They dated for the rest of high school, progressing slowly from tentative kisses to more heated make-out sessions (especially after Matt got his license and his mom let him borrow the car). They took one another's virginities in May of their senior year in time-honored fashion: in a cheap motel room the night of the senior prom.

By the time they graduated, it was taken for granted that they'd be married one day. Her parents were quite happy with the idea, but counseled them to wait until after college. They applied to the same five schools, and agreed they'd go to the best place they both got into, which turned out to be the University of Illinois.

Being at college meant freedom and privacy to have sex—which they did, a lot. They were both inexperienced but eager, and their sex life was enthusiastic and fun, if vanilla. Hard as it may be to believe, neither of them had ever seen any porn, and their repertoire didn't go beyond a couple of sex positions and some tentative, hesitant experimentation with oral sex. Matt loved the two or three blowjobs Michelle was willing to give, though she was a little grossed-out. Neither of them was all that wild about Matt going down on her. He had no idea what he was doing, while Michelle couldn't really get past the idea that it was dirty, her boyfriend sticking his face in there.

The biggest change in their relationship at Illinois was anatomical: Michelle grew breasts, or rather her rather small breasts grew big. Now they were big, beautiful, heavy, D-sized breasts. She'd been skinny and a little bit plain, and boys besides Matt had never shown much interest. Now she was still a little on the plain side, but her prominent chest meant a lot of attention, from male classmates, guys on her hallways, guys at parties, etc.

Michelle loved Matt, but that didn't mean she ignored the male attention. While she was too shy to really flirt, she certainly learned to smile and bat her eyes a little, and let some of her admirers hang around her in a perfectly innocent way (at least on her side).

As for Matt, he was wild with excitement. He couldn't stop looking at and touching and stroking and sucking Michelle's new boobs, and their sex life ramped up quite a bit—he just couldn't get enough.

At the same time, Matt was well-aware that for the first time he had competition for Michelle's favors. He grew even more attentive, even more helpful and loving and supportive. They'd always studied together, but now he made sure to edit and revise Michelle's papers, to double-check her Econ problem sets. He bought her flowers for no reason, gave her foot-rubs at the end of a long day. He told her how much he loved her.

And she replied in kind. She did love Matt, she always had. But the balance had shifted a bit, even if they never talked about it. They had once been a matched pair, in their own bubble, no one else terribly interested in either of them. Now Michelle was aware of a lot of male interest. She would have denied it if you asked, but she knew she had options.

Perhaps it was partly for this reason that Matt decided to propose, at the end of the summer just before their junior year. They were camping with some high school friends in Daniel Boone National Forest, in Kentucky. A group of about 30 of them, some couples and some singles, took a one-week trip to the same campground for a week in August every year.

On the last night, as they were sitting around a campfire, drinking beer and chatting, listening to the radio, dancing a little, Matt reached behind him and grabbed a can of Miller Lite and handed it to Michelle.

Without paying much attention she went to pop the top—and found herself staring at a small black box, carefully taped to the top of the can.

"Matt, is this? ..."

He'd slid out of his seat and gone to one knee in front of her. Their friends fell silent, watching with big grins.

"Michelle, I have loved you since we were 15—you are the only one for me, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

She froze a little in shock, and Matt opened the box to show her the ring. Suddenly bursting into tears, she said, "oh my God, Matt—Yes! Yes I'll marry you!"

They fell into one another's arms, barely aware of the chorus of cheers and laughter all around them. He helped her try on the ring and her girlfriends gathered around, all talking at once. Ten feet away Matt's guy friends were congratulating him, teasing him, pounding him on the back.

In their tent that night they made love hungrily, her riding him energetically while he held and stroked her big breasts. When Matt got close to cumming, he pulled Michelle down to him and nibbled hard on her nipple. It brought her off, something that didn't happen very often when they made love, and afterwards they lay quietly in one another's arms, smiling, talking in low voices.

"Baby, you surprised me tonight!"

"I'd been thinking about it for awhile Michelle—and I wasn't about to let you get away."

She kissed him. "I'm not going anywhere. But I loved the surprise, the beer can and all of that. Did everyone know?"

"Just Adam and Sandy. I ran the idea by them, to make sure it wasn't too lame. But Sandy went 'awww!' and told me it was super-romantic, so I thought what the hell.

"Thanks for saying yes, by the way."

She slapped his face gently, and kissed him again. "Don't be a silly boy. You know I'm yours."

The next morning they went for a long walk, before coming back to pack up the tent and their supplies. They agreed they'd continue to wait until after graduation to have the wedding, as they'd always planned. And Michelle had another idea, one that made Matt very happy.

"Honey, I just love the ring you picked out for me. It's perfect! And I want to get you one too. Would you wear one from me—a promise ring or something?"

Matt smiled widely and gave her an enormous hug, pulling her body tightly against him. "I love you so much," he whispered in her ear. "And I would be thrilled to wear your ring."

***************

It was the next summer that the trouble came. They were back at Daniel Boone for the week, with most of the same people, but with a couple of new ones. One was Anthony Lotari, the older brother of one of Michelle's friends. None of them had seen him in years; and it was clear right away that he was potential trouble.

At least Matt thought so—Michelle and most of the girls thought he was a hunk. Anthony was older, about 29, a big strong guy who worked construction in Cincinnati during the year. He was charming and flirty, in a blue-collar kind of way. And he seemed to take a particular interest in Michelle, or at least in Michelle's tits.

He was always talking to her, teasing or winking an eye, paying her a compliment and stroking her arm gently. Nothing over the line, and certainly nothing so overt that Matt could ever call him on it. And he was careful to play the same games with some of the other girls.

On the fifth day of the week, Anthony tripped on a log and twisted his ankle. He and Michelle and some others had been planning to hike one of the 5-mile trails that day, but he had to stay behind, his ankle up on a portable chair with an ice pack on it.

And when the group of hikers returned about 4 pm, sweaty and cheerful, teasing each other about how they smelled, Michelle was nowhere to be seen.

Matt said, "hey Adam, where's Michelle? Wasn't she with you?"

Adam looked baffled. He said, "yeah, she was, for a while—hey Sandy, do you know what happened to Michelle?"

Startled, Sandy turned around, but she avoided Matt's eyes. "Yeah, she, uh ... she wanted to, uh, see one of those little waterfalls off the trail. She should be back in a little while."

Matt jumped to his feet, carelessly putting weight on his ankle. He grimaced, and quickly sat down again. "Is she alone? Who's with her?"

Sandy looked embarrassed. She said nothing, until Adam looked hard at her. "Well, babe?"

Reluctantly Sandy said, "I, uh, think that Anthony volunteered to go with her."

Silence. Matt and Adam looked at one another, but neither one spoke.

Finally Matt said, "okay, Sandy, thanks. I guess I'll, uh, just wait here until they get back."

It was more than an hour—a brutal hour for Matt, sitting there with his leg propped up, watching everyone else washing up, preparing to get a fire going, working on the communal dinner. And when Michelle finally returned, it wasn't any better.

She came into the campsite alone, and it was nearly a minute before Anthony appeared behind her. Walking right over to Matt, she bent down and kissed his cheek. "Hey honey, how is the ankle? Sorry you couldn't join us."

Matt stared at her, noticing she wasn't meeting his eyes. She looked sweaty and tired like the others, but also a bit flushed. "I'm okay," he murmured; he hardly knew what to say. He was getting an extremely strange vibe from her.

"Okay then," she said, straightening. "I'm gonna go help Sandy and the girls with the dinner." She gave his hand a quick squeeze, then turned and disappeared into the tent.

Things seemed a little better to Matt an hour later, when they were eating. Michelle was being very solicitous, sitting next to Matt, smiling at him, one hand on his arm or his shoulder, making sure he had a cold beer and enough to eat, running to get him seconds. They didn't talk much, but her presence soothed him.

Until Anthony walked by. He stopped for a second to smile at Matt, saying, "how ya doin', man? Sorry you missed today, it was a nice hike." And then he strolled away, but not before giving Michelle a long look. A long look full of meaning, though Matt didn't understand right away what it was.

He turned to look at Michelle, and he could see that she was flushed again. She pulled her folding chair around to face him, a worried look on her face.

She took his hands in hers. "Matt," she said quietly, trying not to be heard by anyone else around the campsite. "You know I adore you, right?"

Her whole manner was strange, and Matt's heart was suddenly pounding. He just nodded.

"I'm going to ask you for something, honey. I know this won't be easy, but I want you to trust me, okay? You know how much I love you—you know we'll always be together."

She waited for a reply, but Matt just looked back at her in silence. He was going to make her say it.

"Tonight I'm gonna—just once, just for tonight—I'm gonna stay in Anthony's tent."

"You're going to do what?!" The words came out of him a bit louder than he intended, and Matt was faintly aware of a few of their friends turning to glance over at him and Michelle.

"Shh, honey!" She was horrified, and embarrassed. "Matt, I'm ... well you know this, I've never, uh, been with anyone else, and ..."

"Jesus Christ, Michelle!" This time Matt managed to keep his voice down. "Are you out of your mind? We're engaged, or did you forget that?"

There were tears in her eyes, but the determined look remained on her face. "Of course not, Matt. We're engaged, and I'm yours. Forever.

"But we're not married yet, and this is ... this is something I need to do. To try. Just once, I promise."

Even though he'd suspected something had gone on between them that afternoon, Matt was utterly shocked.

"Honey," he said slowly, trying to keep calm. "When we agreed to get married, I thought it was a pledge to each other, a pledge of faithfulness. Are you saying that you didn't mean it?"

"Of course I meant it, Matt. Let me say it again: I AM YOURS. I'm just asking for this one thing, this one, uh, chance—a chance to ... experiment.

"This will be the only time, I swear it. And next summer we'll be married, and you'll be my one and only. Til death do us part—just like in the wedding vows.

"Don't make too much of this, please, baby. I know you're feeling ... surprised. But it's nothing. I will always be yours."

She was looking at him, steadily, a couple of tears on her cheeks. He knew she meant what she was saying, and he idly wondered if she'd suddenly just gone batshit crazy.

A deep breath. Then another one. Matt said, "and if I say no?"

Sandy gazed at him, squeezing his hands tightly. "I love you, Matt, but I'm going to do this. And tomorrow morning it will all be done, and I'll be your love and your partner forever."

She leaned forward, putting her arms around him and hugging him tightly, lovingly. He didn't hug her back, simply letting his hands rest in his lap. She held the hug, then released him, looking right into his eyes.

"I love you, Matt," she said, one more time. Then she turned and went into the tent.

Feeling tears well up in his eyes, Matt looked around. Most of their friends seemed to be unaware of the confrontation, but Matt noticed a couple of them trying to hard to seem as though they hadn't noticed anything. He sat quietly, wiping the tears away as discreetly as he could.

And he kept sitting, alone and off to one side, in shock and total misery. After awhile he had to take a piss, so he stood and painfully limped to the edge of the clearing and a few feet into the woods. On the way back to his seat he detoured to the tent, hoping to try one more time to reason with Michelle—but it was empty. It was dark by now, and she'd clearly taken advantage of his momentary absence to leave without having to speak to him again.

***************

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To really understand what happened, you have to know about Matt and the way he was raised.

Matthew Pokorny and his older brother Jason grew up on a small farm just outside Carey. Their dad, who managed a small gas station on North Vance Street in town, was a loud, blustering bully. He drank too much and he pretty much terrorized his wife, a sweet little woman who doted on her boys.

The three of them—Jason, Matt, and their mother Alice—formed a kind of bond, a necessary alliance against a powerful man who kept them in perpetual fear. He only hit them occasionally, but his verbal assaults were constant and the sense of threat never diminished. It was a relief to both boys and to their mother when their father divorced her and moved to Tampa. Matt was 14 when he left.

Jason, two years older than Matt, grew bitter and resentful. He never dared talk back, but a sense of mutiny was never far from the surface. He also became fiercely protective of Matt, who was far quieter and more timid by nature. Matt's coping mechanism was to be invisible: he never protested, never argued, and managed to be around his father as little as possible.

The same approach served Matt pretty well in school, or at least it seemed that way to him. He had one long-term friend, Danny Cappello, who'd known him ever since second grade, and otherwise he kept to himself. He was an above-average student, though his teachers wished he'd speak up more, and he stayed out of trouble.

Sitting down next to Michelle Hardison on the bus that day was positively the bravest move he'd ever made in his life; and asking her out to the movies a few weeks later was the next bravest. He absolutely couldn't believe she'd said yes, and their relationship made him happier than he'd ever been.

Most of all, Jason liked her. Jason, his idol and protector, his role model, thought Michelle was "sweet," and "really good for him." Four years later when Matt was getting ready to propose, he had a long phone conversation with Jason—by then living and working in Louisville—and Jason wholeheartedly supported his plan.

When he and Michelle were at Illinois, and her late-developing body started getting her lots of male attention, Matt was far too observant not to notice, and far too thoughtful not to consider how to respond.

In a way that was typical of his personality, he chose the quiet approach. Nothing confrontational, nothing direct: he "stepped up his game." He made sure more than ever to show Michelle how special she was to him, how much he loved her.

There was nothing insincere or cynical about it. He DID love her. But he was also responding to the changed circumstances, making sure that his strengths as a boyfriend were never too far from her mind.

Michelle's happy and eager acceptance of his marriage proposal had filled him with joy, and their junior year together at Illinois had been the best year of his life.

So her behavior at the camp site the following summer felt like being hit from behind with a two-by-four. Not that he hadn't noticed Anthony and identified him as a threat; but guys had flirted with Michelle before, and from where Matt stood Anthony didn't seem to have anything that the rest of them didn't.

Now, sitting alone in the dark, aware of his aching ankle and his aching heart, he wondered what the fuck he'd missed. What it was about this guy in particular that had the power to shit all over his life.

He was preparing to go lie down in his tent—not that he had much hope of getting any sleep that night!—when Adam quietly approached him with another guy from the group, Roger Denzin, someone Matt didn't know that well.

Adam spoke very quietly. "Matt, uh, sorry but ... well, Roger wants to tell you about something he, uh, saw this afternoon. I'm so sorry, man."

Adam squeezed Matt's shoulder and went away. Roger sat on the ground, looking embarrassed.

"Hey, uh, Matt—listen, I wasn't going to say anything, but Adam was watching you and Michelle talking earlier, and ... well, he said I really oughta talk to you."

Feeling numb, Matt just nodded.

"On the hike today, I, uh, I kinda fell behind towards the end. I actually, uh, well I had the runs, and I ... sorry! That part doesn't matter.

"Anyway, I was way behind the others, and on the way back I suddenly thought I'd take the side trail to that waterfall, it's supposed to be so pretty. Anyway, I got partly down the path and then I heard noises in a clearing, and I ...

"Uh, I'm sorry, Matt, but I saw Michelle with, uh, with Anthony. They were doing it. He had her on her hands and knees and he was behind her and, well, I guess you know the rest. I'm really sorry."