Wallflower

"I don't want you to stop." At her whispered words, Gerald held her tighter than ever before.

Gerald's voice was rough and deep, "Mare, you don't know what you're asking."

"I'm a farm girl Gerald. I've lived around animals all my life. I'm not experienced, but I do know."

Watching her face as he moved his hand from her back, down to her hip and along the outside of her leg, her expression never changed. When he reached her knee and slipped his hand under her skirt she blinked once when his hand slipped between her legs and moved farther toward her secret femininity. When his fingers brushed across the wetness between her legs, she closed her eyes, rested her cheek against his shoulder, and shuddered.

"My God, Mare. Don't tempt me like this," Gerald pleaded.

As if it was a move she had practiced before, Mary Margaret watched his face as she held his wrist when she slowly stood between his knees. Her feet parted and the hem of her skirt settled around his thighs. His fingers moved back and forth against the wetness at the crotch of her panties and then slipped inside the leg to separate her moist lips with his index finger pushing up into her.

Her legs were shaking when she wrapped her arms around his head to hold his face against her. "I don't mean to tempt you Gerald. I just want you to know that I want you. I don't know yet exactly what that means, but maybe you can show me."

Slowly, with great reluctance Gerald withdrew his hand. He could not resist the temptation to lift his finger to his mouth to taste her and he did so while she watched. He stood beside her, his hands resting for a moment around her waist.

"I want you too." He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her against him, allowing her to feel his erection pressing against her. His voice growled with intensity, "But I'm not going to show you how much by taking you in the grass of a county park in the dark. I want some time and the privacy to make love to you."

Mary Margaret turned her face up to his, rose to her toes, and kissed him. It was not a practiced kiss, she did not have the experience for that, but he understood. "Then we better find Benny and go home."

The ease with which they returned to the tables surrounding the dimly lit dance belied the sexual tension between them. The time they took to pack the picnic basket, collect Mary Margaret's jacket and Gerald's hat, and offer a pleasant good night to friends seemed to take an eternity, but none of the friends commented on their early departure. When Gerald opened his pickup door to let Mary Margaret slide under the steering wheel to sit in the middle of the bench seat, Benny mumbled awake and blinked his eyes at the dome light. If the younger man noticed that Gerald occasionally looked intently at Mary Margaret or that she seemed nervous Benny did not comment.

Instead of taking Mary Margaret back to her home, Gerald drove to his farm. She looked at him and smiled, understanding what it meant to him that their first night together would be where they would make their home. The haste with which Benny found his bedroom and the speed with which he undressed and began his soft snore was indicative of how tired he was from his evening. He probably didn't even hear the soft click and the firm twist of the lock when Gerald closed his bedroom door behind him. Nor did Benny hear Gerald calmly tell Mary Margaret to take her shower as he handed her the shirt to his pajamas. Benny certainly didn't hear Gerald take a shower.

When Gerald walked out of the bathroom in his pajama bottoms, Mary Margaret was standing at the window looking outside. "Mare, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I can't help it, Gerald," she answered as she turned around. "I'm not really afraid, I'm just nervous."

He walked to the nightstand beside his bed and pushed down a button on his radio. Mary Margaret's smile indicated she recognized the music as a song they had danced to in her kitchen.

"Does that help?" When she nodded, he held out his arms, "Then come dance with me, sweetheart."

In their bare feet, each wearing one-half of his pajamas, he moved them around the room, slowly shortening his steps until they were barely moving. His last few steps were little more than a sway from side to side at the edge of his bed when he dropped her hand and put his arm around her to hold her still for his kiss.

For the first time in her life, Mary Margaret was kissed with passion by a man who's lips said, "I love you," before they met hers.

***

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