Getting a Room MChapter 3 Holidaze
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Getting A Room - FChapter 4: Holidaze free porn video
Monday, she flew from O’Hare to Little Rock with two suitcases, one of them empty in expectation of loot.
She had gone through a struggle with her family the first two years of college. She’d been an adult, and Mama and Daddy had kept thinking of her as a kid. Now that she was a graduate student, they still did, but she’d stopped minding. She was an adult; her world saw her as an adult. Mama and Daddy’s delusions were their delusions and quite unimportant. Besides, it was fun to be a kid at Christmas.
The last mail before Christmas brought a card from Bill. Although they had exchanged addresses, she’d forgotten to get him a card. Back home, she not only avoided talking about her lover, she avoided thinking about him too.
“You have a secret admirer?” Mama asked when handing her the card. Opening all the Christmas cards without looking at the address could be quite innocent. There had been more than half a dozen each in recent deliveries. On the other hand, Mama could be quite nosy. Bill had signed the card “A Secret Admirer.”
“Secret from you, at least.” Bill had quite distinctive handwriting.
“And how is your romantic life going in Chicago?”
“None at all in Chicago. My romantic life in Evanston is going quite well.” Mama reached over to grab her left hand for close examination. As if! Had Carolyn been wearing an engagement ring, Mama would have known about it before she got her gloves off. “Not that well. Actually, a lot better for me than that. I’ll probably finish classes this year. I’ll need a teaching job while I write my dissertation. That means I’ll be out of Evanston except for a few conferences with my adviser until the commencement when I get my degree. And, probably, forever after. Marriage isn’t in the cards for years. Not this time, and not that place.”
“My hair will be pure white before I’m a grandmother.”
“Mama, there is only one bathroom in this house. I know you’re dyeing your hair now.” So, it wouldn’t be pure white, or even a little grey, if Mama lived to be a hundred.
“Knowing it is one thing. Saying it is another. Anyway, brat, it’s only grey now, and you’re the reason it’s grey.”
“Well, I’m working on turning it white.” She’d told her nothing but the truth, if not the whole truth. Bill was not only a sexy lover, he was a convenience. They struck sparks -- all kinds of sparks -- but it was better for her future to be attracted now to a man who would be quite impossible as a husband and who had no interest in being a husband. Once she was on a faculty, and away from the fatal attraction of Bill, she would have time to meet someone suitable.
Since she was a kid in her parents’ eyes, she got loads of presents -- even a stocking. There was more than could fit in her suitcases. When she got to the airport Saturday, she checked both suitcases; She carried a shopping bag with her largest gift, a new coat still in its box, on the plane. Getting the stuff home on the EL would be a pain, but a taxi from O’Hare wasn’t in her budget.
When she got off the plane, Bill was waiting.
“Bill! I didn’t expect you.”
“I, on the other hand, have spent the last three weeks expecting you.” Which was sweet. Bill could be sweet, if he could also be a pain. They had a nice kiss. His tongue tasted fine but acted aggressive. He groped her ass. Well, it was nice to be wanted, and she wanted him, too.
“You have more luggage?” he asked.
“Better believe it.” She held up her shopping bag. “This is what wouldn’t fit.” He took the shopping bag and walked her to the right luggage carousel. When she’d got her bags, he decided that the one on wheels was hers to pull while he carried the small suitcase and the shopping bag. There were days when Bill reminded her of her parents, although he recognized the fact that she was a sexual adult. Recognized? He delighted in her sexual adulthood. But he tried to take care of her when they weren’t in bed. Sometimes it was annoying, but picking her up in his car made up for a lot of the annoyance. He set her bags down when they got to an exit.
“Why don’t you wait inside until I fetch the car?” he asked, but she was dying for a cigarette. People were smoking inside, but she wasn’t going to. Actually, cigarettes tasted better with the warm air from them contrasting with the cold air on your cheek. When she shook her head, he picked up the bags and carried them to a vacant place on the sidewalk. He hurried away while she got out her cigarette and lighter.
She was mostly done by the time he pulled the car up in front of her. He got the luggage in the trunk and the shopping bag in the back seat. She ground out the last of the cigarette and got in. He closed her door before getting in his side. Bill was always the perfect gentleman in small things. He seemed to be concentrating on his driving, and she let him decide when they should begin talking again.
“We’re going directly to my apartment. You can go back to your dorm just before classes begin.” Sometimes, he told her rather than consulting her. She needed her diaphragm. Did he think she took it home with her? Well, she was being a little unfair. She’d never told him that she used a diaphragm. Still, she decided what she would do. Although his program did sound attractive. And, he had come to the airport for her. That counted for a lot.
“That’s sweet of you, but I have to go to the residence hall.” But she didn’t want him to take that as a total rejection of his program. “If you want, I’ll come with you after.”
“As if you had any question about what I want. Well, what I really want is to pull over and take you right now, but I’ll take what I can get.” Bill the cave man. It wasn’t really convincing.
“Fine, But I’m really not into love in a car, especially not in January.”
“Well, I can love you in this car. I just can’t strip you. Beautiful as you’d look, I can see that it wouldn’t be practical.” Taking another meaning to the word ‘love’ was cute. But the statement was one reason why he wasn’t a convincing cave man. Bill always thought of what was practical.
At the residence hall, Bill parked the car where he could wait. She got her bags but decided to leave the coat.
“If you’re checked out, you’ll have to check in again,” the man at the desk droned. Why one had to check in and out for periods back home, she never understood. Mary claimed that the rule dated back to some time when they’d had a curfew, but Carolyn couldn’t believe that Northwestern had ever had a curfew for graduate students.
“I’ll take care of that.” She got the bags up to her room. She unpacked both, then packed the smaller one. She needed her church clothes and school clothes for Monday. She’d come back before class, and so books could stay here. She inserted the diaphragm and then packed the tube of jelly in with the cosmetics. She put her traveling clothes back on and was ready to roll.
Bill looked glad to see her when she got to the car. Did he think she’d get cold feet? He drove her to his apartment, parked the car, took the suitcase, but left the shopping bag to her. Once in his apartment, they were host and guest; he hung up her coat before he hung up his own. He was in a sport shirt, the first time she’d seen him without a coat and tie.
Then, they were lovers. They had a long kiss. His hands stroked all over her body, and she could feel his penis harden against her stomach. She wondered how many minutes would pass before they got to bed. But he was always surprising her about that. The cave man who had wanted to strip her and mount her in the car started a conversation when they were safely in privacy.
“Welcome home. You’re looking great.”
“That’s because Mama stuffed me. You always want me heavier. You’re looking great, too. I haven’t seen you without a coat and tie before. Well...” Well, she had. She’d seen him naked, in fact.
“Well ... But you look just like you belong here. And Santa thinks you belong here, too. He left a package for you.” He handed her a small box with a big address tag. It had her name but his address. He hadn’t pushed his Santa claim to the extent of disguising his handwriting.
“Bill you shouldn’t have.” And he really shouldn’t have. He’d sent her a Christmas card, but he’d warned her of that. Now, she’d have to get him a gift, and he’d know it had been bought after she’d received hers. That wasn’t the basis of their friendship. She’d given her roommates cheap gifts, but she and Bill exchanged their bodies, not Christmas gifts.
“Well, open it first, and then decide.” When she unwrapped it, it was a jeweler’s box.
“You really shouldn’t.” He really shouldn’t have. This looked like an expensive gift. She was a woman taking her pleasure from her body -- and his, not one trading her body for jewelry.
“Open it, already.” When she did, it was an engagement ring. Well, he didn’t think of her as a bought woman. This was better, or -- maybe -- worse.
“Oh, Bill!”
“Carolyn, will you marry me.”
“I have to think.” And think she did. In the first place, he could be arrogant and bigoted. No, in the first place, he was sexy as hell. More than that, she was powerfully attracted to him. His penis, even his fingers or his mouth, could bring her deep satisfaction. But it went beyond that; his very presence brought the arousal that led to the satisfaction.
Okay, marriage to him would be a constant hassle. But, she suspected, marriage to anyone else would be a second choice. Did she want to spend her life in bed with a man who aroused her somewhat less? Worse, she was an honest woman; if she married someone else, would she admit to him that she found him less arousing than a man she had turned down? Did she want to base a marriage on a lie? She at least wanted Bill in the way he wanted her.
On the other hand, he could be insensitive. His personal insensitivity, she could stand. She was frank and could tell him. He was, if insensitive to others, not all that sensitive in the other way. Beat him over the head with a baseball bat, and he could take the hint. He’d changed his behavior in the past, and she was the sort of person who could change his behavior in the future.
His social insensitivity was less bearable. She’d never heard him say a word against Blacks or Jews, but he’d sounded off lots about the poor. And his having swallowed neoclassical economics hook, line, and sinker was unbearable. Maybe not for 99 women out of a hundred, but she was thinking of Carolyn -- who was in the 1 percent. Did she want to spend the rest of her life sleeping with the enemy? And he didn’t approve of smoking. He let her smoke, but was that something he would expect her to change?
“Would you still let me smoke in the house?”
“Certainly ... Or is that a trick question?” This was no time for trick questions. “When it’s my house, I make the rules. I permit your smoking. When we’re married, we will make the rules. Technically, I won’t be permitting you anything. I certainly won’t be prohibiting your smoking, or anything else.” Okay, good answer. He believed that he believed it. Did he really believe it? Did any man? Well, it was something he could be reminded of. But that wasn’t the main point. They could go their own ways on that. She couldn’t bear their going their own ways on economics, and -- having granted her freedom on the first -- he might well be more insistent on his freedom on the second.
“The question is...” How could she ask this? “I really haven’t persuaded you about economics. That’s my life.”
“Not really.” Well, he was honest. She didn’t want him pretending. She was out to persuade, not bribe. “You know more than I do, I’ll admit that. Do you know more than Professor Becker does?” Good question, whoever Becker was.
“More to the point,” she said, “you and I know less than either Samuelson or Friedman. And they are at loggerheads. I’m not asking you to yield to my greater wisdom -- really, you’d only be yielding verbally to get me to yield sexually. But, if I do live with you, will you listen to the arguments? I think I can persuade you. I don’t go by ‘Samuelson says this, and so it must be so.’”
“Yeah. Long ago, Dan told me that you’d know the arguments for your positions.” Which was almost agreement, but not quite. “I’ll listen. After all, I don’t love Becker. I do love you.”
“Well, that seems to be it.” And it did seem to be it, too. On the other hand, she’d been no more explicit than he’d been at first. “I do like you, too. Yes, Bill, I will marry you.” She held out her finger for the ring. The cylinder going into a circle seemed an awfully suggestive piece of symbolism. The ring was a little large, which -- if anything -- made the symbolism worse. She didn’t think Little Bill found her too loose.
“The jeweler said he could adjust it.” Bill saw the practical, not the symbolic. “He’s open until five. Want to do that now?”
“Now?” She had expected to celebrate the engagement in bed. For that matter, before he brought up the matter of the engagement, she had expected to be in bed sooner than this.
“Or Monday night. We’re limited by his hours, as well as our own.”
“Let’s.” Bill’s practicality was, after all, the practical solution. She wanted to show off her ring, which meant wearing it. She certainly didn’t want to lose it, which meant not wearing it loose.
Bill’s jeweler measured her knuckle. “You want it to go over that knuckle, but not too easily. Some people have enough fat in their fingers that rings need to be larger, but you have nice slender fingers.” While they were there, they selected the wedding rings. When the jeweler asked her whether Bill would wear one, she looked at him. It wasn’t a make-or-break issue for her. He looked indifferent, so she opted for two rings. She didn’t know how many other women felt the sexuality radiating from Bill, but she wanted any who did to know that he was taken.
Back at his apartment, they finally started for bed. It wasn’t any rush, but the direction was clear. First, they had a sweet kiss, with their tongues playing tag. He moved back and pulled his hands from her ass. Before she could pull him into a closer hug, she felt his fingers on the buttons of her blouse. When she shrugged out of it, he kissed down her neck to her chest. When his hands went to her bra clasp, however, she pushed him back.
“It’s my turn,” she said. She unbuttoned his shirt and lifted his tee while he was pulling the shirt over his head. If one of them were going to be wearing less, let him feel chilly. She kissed over his hairy chest and sucked his flat nipples while his hands were raised removing the tee.
“Hey!”
“Turnabout is fair play.” He’d kissed her, after all. Anyway, his displeasure seemed mostly feigned. When his arms were free, he pulled her into a hug for a serious kiss. This time, when his hands went to her bra clasp, she simply hugged him tighter. It went on like that, with them kissing what skin they’d bared until they were naked. She headed for bed first; he didn’t seem to feel the cold as much as she did. When he followed, he reached for the drawer to get out his contraceptive. Like the courtesy of opening the car door for her, this taking responsibility was one of Bill’s good points. She wasn’t about to tell him that she didn’t quite trust him. Actually, she did trust Bill -- she was marrying him, wasn’t she? It was his contraceptive she didn’t quite trust. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure she was ready yet.
“All right?” he asked. “I’m going to assume permission. I’m not going to ask you anymore.” Permission, fine! When he didn’t have permission, she’d scream. But what had happened to Mr. Foreplay?
“Quite right. That’s why I’m here, but let’s kiss first.” And the kiss was as sweet as any that had gone before in the living room. It was more comfortable, too. Their lips were on a level, not their feet. Lips were much more important, although she did rub his shins with her toes. When he broke the kiss, it was to kiss lower, down her neck to her breasts. Mr. Foreplay was back -- she might have misunderstood his comment about the contraceptive. And, when his hand went to her delta, she welcomed it.
He sucked her nipple and brushed her clit until she flew. He spoke her name before she came down, and then he was in her.
“Oh darling,” he said. Then they were staring into each other’s eyes while he stroked deep within her. She’d not come down completely before he began, and she started to respond almost immediately. His chest hair was tickling her nipples delightfully. He was so dear! She gripped his flexing ass to pull him tighter on his in-strokes. He looked almost comically grim above her. Then her focus blurred, and she flew!
As she flew, he kept moving inside her. Then, he was pulsing inside her. Then, he was lying on her. He was heavy, although his arms still supported a little of his weight. She moved her hands from his ass to his waist and hugged him.
“Love you,” he said. Then, when he’d moved off, “Sorry.” Then she rolled over with her back to him and he snuggled closer.
“Mmm,” he asked her back. “How was your Christmas?”
“Warm inside and cold outside. I’d thought I made out like gangbusters. I didn’t realize Santa left his best gift up here.”
“You forgive me for the joke then?” What needed forgiveness? If he’d treated her like she thought, that would have been a fault. If anything, she should apologize for her suspicion.
“Sure. Nothing to forgive. I felt like you were calling me a kept woman ‘til I opened it. I don’t mind being a fiancée. And how was your Christmas?”
“Great, now. Actually, if I hadn’t been worrying about this, I’d have been quite happy. Vi Robinson is due in early February.” Bill could make fun of his own foibles.
“That’s Bill. Babies are important. Get any gifts that came before February?”
“A delightful one just today. Seriously, I got a book and a tie from my parents. I got the usual from my fellow workers and gave them the usual.” That, too, was Bill. The news that a baby he might get to hold was coming in two months counted. What people at work gave him didn’t. His dismissive tone about his family was more worrying; she’d just signed up to become his family. But was she any better? Here she was luxuriating in the afterglow, and she hadn’t told Mama that she was engaged.
“Really,” she said, “speaking of Arkansas, I have to go back to the residence hall.”
“Must you?” He hugged her more tightly. “It’s cold out there, and I’ll get lonely.”
“But I should call Mama. I have to tell her about the engagement.”
“You can call from here.” Bill was generous, really.
“Really?”
“Dear, this isn’t the ceremony where ‘with my worldly goods, I thee endow.’ That’s later. But I do think I could spring for a long-distance call.”
“Could we be dressed for it?” That seemed silly, Mama couldn’t see over the telephone. Still, she’d feel better. Mama would want to talk to her fiancé, and that was fine. Engagements were public. Her sex life was private, especially private from Mama.
“Sure. Want me out of the house to give you some privacy?” He was really generous. Okay, it was right after sex, probably his second-most generous moment. (Right before would be first.) Still, he was offering, not being asked.
“Nah. I’ll put all your faults in a letter.”
“Once you said that would give your hand cramps.”
“I’ve got a typewriter,” she reminded him.
She got dressed faster. While he was finishing up, she got her coat out of the box and hung it in the closet. When they were both ready, he gestured towards the phone. She dialed and held her breath.
“Hello?”
“Mama?”
“Carolyn? Are you in trouble?” Well, probably, but not what Mama meant.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Are you sick? Did the plane crash? No, did it have to land somewhere else?” Even Mama could figure out that she wouldn’t call about a plane crash. The hospital maybe, the morgue more likely, but not her.
“I’m in good health and in Evanston, incompatible as those two are.”
“Then what’s wrong?” This was the woman who complained she didn’t call home often enough.
“Listen for once!”
“I’m listening.”
“Y’know how you always ask about my romantic life? Well I’m now engaged.”
“Do I know him? Is this your secret admirer? Is he in your classes? What does he do?” Mama had been eager for her to get engaged. Now, she wanted to pass judgement.
“He’s right here. Want to talk to him?” And give her a rest.
“Yeah.” With that permission, she handed the phone to Bill.
“Mrs. Nolan?” He paused while Mama talked.
“No, although that might have been a better idea.” What would have been a better idea? He was going on. “I’m Bill Pierce, William on my driver’s license. I’m a regional sales manager for Andalusia Pharmaceuticals. We’re an ethical drug company. When you go to the pharmacy with a prescription, you may well be getting one of our products.” Explaining himself. At least Mama gave him more time to speak than she’d ever given Carolyn.
“Well, we haven’t discussed that yet.” Which could be anything. All they had discussed was smoking and economics. “She wanted to tell you early. If you want to hear all the details, you can’t expect to hear them before all the plans are made. Do you want to talk to the one who’ll be making those decisions?” Now, he was getting tired of talking to Mama. She obviously wasn’t tired of talking with him.
“No. I want to keep her always. That means a marriage. And that means a wedding. The wedding is a necessary condition, not something I wanted particularly.” Well that was a nice statement. But Mama kept talking. Then he handed her the phone.
“He says he doesn’t have the wedding all planned out.”
“Yes, Mama.” Bill was being very flexible about things he actually cared about. He wouldn’t be inflexible about the ceremony.
“Does that mean that you could have it at home?” They were going to have their wedding at home. Just not at Mama’s home. “Or are you just going to elope without inviting your parents?”
“It will be up here, and of course you are invited.”
“What do his parents think?” Do his parents even know? Does he plan to tell them?
“Well, we told you first. Bye Mama, I love you.”
“He’s the one you should be loving.” There was a click. Mama was never one to waste an exit line.
“She said that you’re the one I’m supposed to be loving.” He laughed.
“Sounds like a great idea. Before or after we go out to dinner?” Probably not what Mama meant by ‘loving.’ The dinner sounded good, and he didn’t expect her to be a kitchen slave.
“Well, we are dressed.” On the other hand... “Actually, you proposed without knowing whether I could cook. Maybe I should make us something.”
“Breakfast, maybe.” He kept wanting to feed her, but breakfast was really a better idea. The man was practical.
“Breakfast certainly.” Which meant she’d have to cook something he’d like with the ingredients on hand. Western omelet?
But he was more interested in a kiss, and that did take precedence. When he turned her to kiss her ear and the side of her neck, she finished her thought.
Kaylin
- 19.10.2022
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