The Chronicles of Mark and Jennifer Ch. 12

Jennifer's story: Thursday evening

Oh, my God, what is Mark doing to me? We started out hugging and kissing, and then he pulled down my pants and started . . . oh, my gosh . . . I think this is what Monica called eating me. Oh, whoa, oh, my, this feels wonderful!

I had been standing, and I grabbed Mark's head, and pressed him into me harder, and I couldn't help myself, I fell back against the couch, but Mark never stopped, he just moved with me. Then, all of a sudden, almost without warning, my climax washed over me, so hard, so intense, but Mark kept going, and, good Lord, another climax was rising, hard and fast, in just seconds.

I hadn't even noticed, but Mark must've pulled my jeans and panties off of my left leg, because he then pushed my legs apart and entered me, just took me, right there, half-on and half-off the couch. He was going so hard and so strong that he set me off, again and again. I had my arms wrapped around him, and I know that I dug my fingernails into his back. Finally, I was just exhausted, and he backed off, but Mark wasn't really done yet.

"Oh, my God, Mark, what was that?"

"Did you enjoy yourself, babe?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, but, my God, Mark, I never expected that!"

"C'mon to bed, Jen," he said, and then he gently pulled me up off the couch. I was actually stumblingly weak taking those few steps to the bedroom, still trailing my jeans and panties around my right ankle, when Mark laid me down, and gently pulled the clothes off my leg.

"Was I too rough, Jen? I wanted to please you, I really did, but now I'm worried that I went a little overboard."

"Oh, my gosh, Mark, I don't know. It was just amazing, incredible, I, heck, I don't have the right words for it, but . . . " Mark was still hovering over me, and I just reached up, and grabbed his head and started kissing him again, harder than I've ever done it. And then I said just one more word: "More."

And boy, did he give me more! Mark was just as strong and just as aggressive, but it was easier on me now, being fully supported by the bed. I was thinking of those different positions Monica had told me about, but I was just too overwhelmed to ever change the way things were going. The passion started washing over me again, and I barely knew where I was anymore, when Mark finally had his own, slamming into me so hard that it almost hurt.

Afterward, we just laid there for a while, both of us covered with sweat. I was so tired I could barely move, and Mark looked like he was completely spent, too. I'm not sure how long we were laying like that, when finally Mark said, almost in a whisper, "I love you, Jen."

"Yeah, after that, I'll bet you do." I couldn't believe that I had the strength to tease him, but I managed. I rolled onto my side, facing him, smiling, and I had to say it, "I love you, too, Mark. But, wow, that was different."

"Too much?"

"No, I don't think so, just . . . different." I knew: I was going to have to talk to Monica about this. I mean, I was at a loss for words, in my own head.

Mark's story

Oh, Hell, I hope that I haven't just messed up, big time. I wanted to try something different this evening, and really get aggressive, but I might have just gone overboard with this. I've heard other guys talking about really slamming it to their girlfriends, and their girlfriends loving it, but maybe I got too carried away, and maybe the guys were just handing me a line of crap anyway. Jennifer didn't seem angry or anything, and she did ask me to keep going, but, man! I just don't know.

Still, Jen kept up with me.

I awoke, at 6:14, just like I always do, and I was spooned up against Jennifer. I put my left arm around her and kissed the back of her neck, and got an,"Mmmm, that's nice" as a response. Then she rolled over to face me, and gave me some of her soft kisses, not the hungry I want you now kisses of last night, but the sweet ones, the good morning I love you kisses that are so wonderful with her. Then she got up: "Sorry, I've got to go," and she headed into the bathroom. A few minutes later she called me, "Your turn, and then I have to take a bath; you left my hair a tangled mess, you know." I guess that if I messed up last night, maybe I didn't mess up too badly.

We had a nice breakfast, and our talk was mostly meaningless chit chat. I sort of wanted to ask Jen about last night, but I was just plain scared at this point. Jen seemed sweet enough, absolutely no different, but me, I'm scared shitless that I have just royally screwed up.

After my first class, I looked around, trying to find Mark Morgan, 'cause I needed to talk to a guy who'd been there. I know he's had girlfriends he's bedded - at least he says that he had - and maybe he can give me some pointers. I found him, as usual, in the Student Center Cafeteria, the coffee shop section.

"Dude! How're things with blonde-to-her-butt Jennifer?"

"Man, I need someone to talk to about that, 'cause I may have just royally screwed up."

"Uh, oh, what did you do?"

"Well, last night, we were both feeling it, and everything started out pretty nice, but then I went all animal on her, and was really pounding it home. I thought that she liked it, she seemed to like it, but I'm pretty sure that I shocked her, too, and now I'm afraid that I might have really messed up."

"OK, so how was that different from before?"

"Alright, well, it's kind of like this. You see, Jen is actually the one who usually starts things off and . . . "

"What, your girlfriend is the one who usually gets things going? Dude! Keep her, keep her fucking forever! Do you know how many guys would kill for a girl like that?"

"OK, yeah, sure, and I sure do want to keep her, forever, I want to marry her, and I'm just afraid that I might have ruined things."

"OK, when she starts things herself, how does she do stuff?"

"She's kind of sudden, but she's still slow and easy."

"So, that's how she likes it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So, you tried something new, and you're not sure it's really right for her?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Well, dude, and I know that this is easier said than done, but just freaking ask her about it. You won't fuck up any worse by asking her than not."

"How the heck am I going to just come out and ask her?"

"That part's on you, buddy. Heck, Jeff and I are still trying to figure out how you landed such a great girl in the first place."

Monica's story

"Hey, Jennifer, didn't know if I'd see you before Sunday, with your special weekend with Mark and all."

"I still have classes, you know, and I had books over here that I needed," Jennifer said. "Still, I really need to talk to you."

"OK, what's up?"

"Well, you remember that stuff you told me about the other day, I mean about sex?" Jennifer was asking this stuff, directly?

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, Mark was, gosh, I'm not sure how to say this, I guess kind of rough last night."

"Oh, my God, he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, nothing like that, it was just so, so, I guess the word is aggressive, so strong, definitely not gentle at all."

"Are you mad at him, or was that OK with you?"

"It was OK, it was just way different than I ever expected."

"Was it good for you?"

"Oh, my gosh, it was fantastic, but it was kind of scary, too."

"So, you liked it and you didn't like it, at the same time? Tell me, what did he do?"

"Well, we got back to his place, and started kissing right away. Then he pulled my pants off, and, well he kissed me down there. You'd told me about that, and I was surprised, but it was still pretty nice, and really, pretty good; it sent me into orbit. That part was OK, but then he pushed me down on the couch, and he just took me, really hard. That was really good, too, but that was the part that scared me. I mean, I felt just completely overpowered."

"It's real simple, Jennifer: if you don't want him to do that again, tell him!"

"But that's just it: I do want him to do it like that again, just not all the time, but I'm wondering if I'm somehow weird or something, because it scared me a bit, and I still liked it."

"At least you liked it, but girl, I think that you've just learned the difference between making love and just plain fucking."

"Monica!"

"Hey, Jennifer, all I did was tell the truth. And, quite frankly, you're lucky as Hell: listening to you, it really doesn't matter how y'all do things, you still get your rocks off."

"You don't have to put it that way."

"Did I get it wrong?"

"No." Jennifer said that kind of quietly. All of a sudden, I think the impact of this discussion sort of hit her, and she started looking like the old Jennifer. Maybe pointing out the difference between making love and fucking was too much for her. Time to change the subject.

"So, what are you doing for Mark's birthday; you said it was tomorrow, I think?"

"It is, but I haven't gotten him a present yet, and I don't really know what to get him."

"I think you've already given him a really great present." Jennifer gave me a 'really?' look at that one. "But I've got an idea; why don't you and Mark get a portrait done together? After all, you guys are engaged, and a portrait with you two, now, would be a great thing to have thirty years down the road. And, not only would that be great to have, but it would let Mark know that everything's OK. Or, is he even worried that maybe things aren't OK after last night?"

"I kind of think that he's a bit worried, yeah."

Just then, the phone rang. "I'll bet that's Mark," I said, so Jennifer answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh, sure, that sounds great. Listen, we've only got one more week until exams, and I have to get more done on this term paper. Can I meet you at your place around six? OK, bye now, love you lots."

Jennifer had a big smile on her face. "So, what's up, girl?"

"Mark suggested a picnic in Woodland Park for dinner, and said that he'd pick up everything we need at the store."

"Hmmm, he sounds contrite."

"It sounds romantic to me," Jennifer beamed, "but I really do need to get some done on this term paper. Mark has a better typewriter than I do, so I can type it there. Or, maybe, I can get him to type it for me; he's so good on the typewriter that he actually writes his papers on the typewriter, and can turn them in, first draft."

Mark's story

That went well; Jen sounded pretty happy, so maybe I haven't really fouled up too bad.

So, I headed over to the store, and picked up the stuff I needed for the picnic, just some ham and cheese, a loaf of bread, a couple of apples and oranges, and some napkins. I've got mustard and mayo and pickles at the apartment, and a blanket we can use. I packed everything in baggies, and had it ready to go in my backpack. Woodland Park is about five blocks away, where East High and East Maxwell Streets intersect, and it's the nicest public park in the city, with tennis courts, a large public swimming pool, and a lot of trees and open grassy areas.

Jen got here just a couple minutes after six, put away her stuff, and we headed out, walking down East High Street. It was a pleasant afternoon, 79º and mostly sunny, just a perfect day for a picnic. I've still been worried that I really fouled things up with Jennifer last night, but she seems perfectly happy right now, and she was holding my hand as we walked. I'm a lot taller than she is, and am used to walking pretty fast, and it takes a conscious effort for me to slow down to her pace.

We got to the park about 6:30, and Jen was all smiles. There was just enough of a breeze blowing to keep things pleasantly cool, and I had chosen to wear shorts and a t-shirt for this excursion; I've never seen Jen in shorts, and doubt that she owns any; she was in her now-typical jeans and a shirt, a t-shirt today. The grass was soft and cool, and I pulled off my tennis shoes and socks once we got there. Jen, as usual, was wearing sandals, which she kicked off easily.

The picnic was fun! Woodland Park is full of squirrels, squirrels who have learned that people are a food source, and there were a couple which came to steal food. One of them would actually take food from your hand, and Jen was feeding him pieces of an apple. Me, I prefer the oranges, so that's what I ate, and the squirrels weren't interested in those, not even the peels. Jen was trying to coax her squirrel to get on her lap - she was sitting cross-legged - but he wouldn't do that.

With the intermittent clouds, I didn't notice when the clouds stopped giving way to occasional sunshine, especially with all of the trees. We were having a really nice time, when I heard the first rumbles of thunder; it was almost quarter until eight.

"I guess that we ought to head on back," I said, to which Jennifer quickly agreed. So, I packed up the remains of our stuff into the backpack, while Jen took the garbage over to a big green barrel being used as a city trashcan. The first raindrops started falling just as we passed the tennis courts on the East High Street side of the park.

There is a twenty-four hour self-service laundromat just a block away, on the corner of East High and Woodland Avenue, and we were already soaked when we ducked in there. The first few raindrops had given way to a downpour, and we ran in, dripping water all over the yellow linoleum tile floor. It was a small laundromat, but hot and steamy inside, with the sudden upsurge in humidity and all of the dryers running; there were four people already there doing their laundry. After ten or fifteen minutes of laughing and talking, and drawing some not-terribly-friendly looks from the customers, we decided, what the heck, we were already drenched, and couldn't get any wetter no matter how hard it rained, so we started laughing and walking back to my apartment in the downpour.

This was fun! I keep my hair short, so it wasn't a big deal, with the rain running down my face and into my eyes, but Jennifer's waist-long hair really picked up the water. She hadn't put it in a ponytail today, so she wound up grabbing it, twisting it and pulling it forward over her right shoulder. Her t-shirt wasn't transparent at all, but she'd gone braless, and the rain plastered it to her chest. Good Lord, she looked sexy! She hadn't realized it at first, until she caught me looking, and then she hit me on the shoulder, playfully, and said, "Stop, you!" but she was still smiling.

We were having so much fun out in the rain that we never bothered trying to hurry to get back, but it was starting to get colder, as I could tell from Jen's wonderfully wet t-shirt. We stopped a few times, not to get out of the rain, but just to stand there, on the sidewalk, and kiss in the rain. A few cars honked at us as they passed. We probably took longer walking home in the rain than we would have had it been dry, we were having so much fun.

We finally got back to the apartment and both of us scurried to the bathroom: we were dripping all over the hardwood floors, but the bathroom floor is tiled; we stripped off everything and just threw our clothes, shoes and the backpack into the bathtub. We toweled off, and Jen had to wring her long hair out into the sink. I couldn't help but hold on tightly to my beautiful fiancée, and we were still laughing and kissing. Then I realized: I had stopped worrying that I had messed up last night, because everything seemed just perfect.

The apartment windows had been open, and I had to close them on one side, because the rain was hitting that direction, and the wind coming through made things a bit too cool as we were standing there, naked and wet. I got out a couple of blankets to wrap around ourselves, but neither of us wanted to put clothes on.

"You look like a drowned rat," Jen teased me. "And you look even drowndeder," I had to tease back. We both opened the blankets to stand together wrapped up with nothing between us, hugging and kissing, when Jen took me by the hand and led me into the tiny bedroom. "I know an even better way to get warm," she said.