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The next three weeks were a mix of happy and tedious. The tedious part was because, aside from the leg cast, I was feeling GOOD. The ribs stopped hurting. The arm stopped hurting. The head scar was still there, but my hair was growing in where they'd shaved around the wound. Ronni'd brought me to my barber.
"What'd'ya want me to do?" he asked.
"Make me NOT look like I have the mange," I said. "Just buzz everything down and it'll all grow back the same length at the same time." I looked at Ronni and winked. She and I had talked about this move.
The other big event was on the way home. We stopped by the dealership and picked her out a car.
"I don't need a car, baby," she'd said when I first broached the subject. "I can drive yours."
"I'll be needing that when I go back to work, sweetness," I said.
"And I'll be home, and it's summertime and I don't need to go anywhere that I can't go with you when you get off work or with Mom or Dad."
"You need a car so you can run the errands to keep your household going."
I won that discussion. Wasn't always the case.
The happy part? That would be living with Ronni. Finding that the 'happy' wasn't just something she managed in front of me on the rare times we spent together, but that she was, like I thought before, even-tempered and always happy.
Our front yard sessions in the evening changed up slightly as I got a bit more adventurous with my cast and crutches and we made our way up and down the street, stopping to talk with the neighbors, in general just getting on with life.
Other part of getting on with life was that some of my co-workers made a point of dropping by. The first time one showed up after Ronni and I decided to get married, I didn't hide that bit of news. That guaranteed that I'd get visits from several others, all curious to see Dave's fiancee'. In each case, Ronni hung around long enough to be polite, joining the conversation, then excusing herself to leave me a little time to talk with my co-workers. At least the male ones.
Grady Higgins. My supervisor. "Dave, she's SEVENTEEN?"
"Uh-huh." I answered. "Literally, the 'girl next door'."
"She's not..."
"Pregnant? Heavens, no, Grady. Good girl. Her dad and mom and me, we've been friends since I moved here. I've been around her that long."
"That age thing? Not a problem?" He asked. "Don't mean to be nosy, Dave, but you'n me been friends for a long time ... I remember your divorce..."
"I remember it too, Grady. Ronni has eyes. She can see how old I am. I can see how old she is. We've spent a lot of time riding back an' forth to tournaments an' sports things. I know how she is. She knows how I am."
"Well if you're sure, Dave, then I'm happy for you."
"I appreciate you bein' concerned, buddy."
I'm sure that Grady got asked the question by our staff admin clerk. She came by too, all hundred and ninety pounds of her, to visit and bring me a big tray of home-made cookies. Ronni DIDN'T leave while she was there. She stayed beside me, little touches showing I was HER possession. Sandra was happily married, but Ronni didn't know that until after Sandra left.
"You work with HER?" Ronni asked. She was trying to hide her concern.
"Yep. She's our administrator." I smiled.
"Did you ever ... you an' her..."
"Sandra? No, baby."
"'Cuz she's fat?"
"Nope. Fat has nothing to do with it. She's married. And she never acted the least bit interested, and after what I went through when my wife ran around on me, I would NEVER do that to another human being." I sighed. "Besides, you're prettier."
"I'm NOT pretty, Dave."
"Veronica Jameson, you are a cutie. I adore you."
She smiled. Bent over and kissed me. Right there on the front porch.
Sex? We played. I ate her. She ate me. We kissed and fondled and rubbed. I thought several times that we were going to cross that line to intercourse, but Ronni remained true to her word. Virgin.
After one session, we were lying, entangled, me wishing I didn't have the cast on my leg, but glowing because we'd pushed each other over the brink with oral pleasures.
"Dave," she said. "I WANTED to, you know, don't you?"
"Yes, my Ronni," I said.
"YOU wanted to, huh?" she looked into my eyes, giving me more time to ponder the kaleidoscope that was so inadequately described as 'brown'.
"I want every bit of you, baby," I said. "But I can wait."
"Another week and a half?" she smiled. "I have a period comin' next week. And after that, we're goin' to get married, and then..."
"You'll be my Ronni forever?"
Giggle. "Baby, I'm THAT now. Have been for years."
She walked with me as I clumped my way into the jewelers. "Just a wedding band, Dave. One for me. One for you." The salesman was a little taken aback by the almost forty year old guy with the seventeen year old tied to his arm, buying wedding bands. He tried to hide it. Didn't do very well. We selected two simple bands and got our sizes checked and were told to return in a couple of days to pick them up.
We were well into July and Ronni was getting excited. So was I. So was the neighborhood.
Finally the day came for THE doctor visit. I got into a pair of baggy-legged shorts with Ronni's help and off we went to the clinic. I was given the once-over.
"Any unusual pain?"
"No."
His assistants removed the cast. More poking and prodding. A couple of X-rays. He came back into the examination room.
"Stand," he said. "Carefully."
I stood, feeling the leg. I shifted my weight. Felt good. I said so.
"Don't kill yourself. If you're gonna walk or ride a bike or something on your own, I won't set you up for physical therapy.
I looked at Ronni. "We already walk," she said. "We'll REALLY walk now."
I got the standard list of warnings and precautions, and I WALKED out of the office, holding Ronni's hand, into the July sunlight.
"You drive," I told her. "Until I get used to that foot and leg working again."
It was Wednesday. Saturday was the DAY.
My new-found freedom, no more cast, ALMOST let Ronni and me get carried away. Somewhere in the pink mists, though, she maintained enough blood flow to HER brain to regain control at the last minute. Saturday morning she was still a virgin.
At one o'clock we stood in front of a happy, informal group of friends and neighbors and Reverend Paul led us through a time-honored ritual of vows. We exchanged rings and kisses and turned to face the assembly.
"Brothers and sisters," the preacher said, "Let me present Mister Dave Johnson and his wife, Mizzus Ronni Johnson. He smiled broadly. But not as big as my Ronni.
Rena led a group of ladies in producing tears.
Informal ... the reception was a family affair, made more so by the participation of our friends and neighbors. There was a cake, and there was a big cooler of beer and a good selection of finger foods, and I thought I was going to need therapy on my elbow from all the hands I shook. I saw my sweet young bride working her way towards me.
"Folks," I announced, "Ronni an' I have a place to be going..." I shook Alex's hand, then Terry's, and collected hugs and kisses from Rena and Deb, and we left.
We had plans. Cruise. It was hurricane season. That kept us out of the Caribbean. We flew to Vancouver.
Ronni was touchie-feelie the whole trip. And we had a night in a hotel before embarking on our cruise.
We were in a ROOM. Together. She wrapped me in her arms. I reciprocated. She looked into my eyes.
"We saved some stuff." She smiled.
She was right. I had touched every inch of her body, and she had explored mine, and we were in the room together and there was something that we needed to share for the first time.
I gently stripped her of her traveling clothes, what I called her 'Ronni uniform': jeans and a blouse, and her fingers didn't fumble as she peeled my own clothes off and we stood in front of each other completely nude. That wasn't the first time. The first time was yet to come as we turned back the covers on the king-sized bed.
My Ronni. Kneeling in the middle, waiting for me. I joined her. I had anticipated tender foreplay and loving. What I got was Ronni kissing me deeply, fondling me as I touched her pussy, finding it almost dripping with juice in expectation.
"Lay down, baby," she said. "It's time for US!"
She knew what she wanted. She'd been astride me before, and she'd rubbed that sweet pussy on my dick before, even to the point of orgasm. But it was time for penetration.
"Eager" falls short of describing her expression. I'd explored that sweet pussy with my lips and tongue and fingers and I knew that she retained just the barest vestiges of a hymen. She rose up off me and her hand reached between her legs to guide my rigid dick into position as my own hands relished the curves of her waist and ass and thighs.
"Dave, I love you," she said. The head of my dick was at the entrance of her pussy. She started pushing downward. I felt the head encounter delicious wet tightness as it pushed its way into a place no man had ever been. Her brown eyes were sparkling. She was biting her bottom lip, concentrating. Her mouth came open.
"Ahhh!" she uttered. Another push. Her pubic arch hit mine. She halted her effort. Smiled. Eased down into my arms. "Dave, we're ... mated."
I stroked her sassy brown bob. "Yes, little one, we are. I will never do this with another woman."
"You'll be the ONLY man that's ever there, Dave," she said. She gave a little wiggle. "It feels gooood."
"I was hoping you liked it. YOU feel good."
She moved a bit more, experimenting, finding that some of our sex play from before was almost a direct translation to what she NEEDED right now, and her athletic hips and legs went to work. I loved the sensation. Her movements found the right configuration and she started a rhythm. the bottom lip was pulled behind white teeth as her concentration returned, this time for a wholly different reason.
My own hips couldn't remain immobile under this stimulation. I started pumping upward into her. Her eyes told me that she not only noticed this, but that she approved and our mutual motions became more frantic, insistent.
"Baby," she gasped. "My first time. Nnnnghhhh. It's not s'pose ta be THIS GOOD!"
"Oh, yes, Ronni doll," I answered. "Ohgod..."
"Hnnnghhhh, ohgodDave ... Ohhhhh, yessssss..." She rode me hard. I tried. I tried to hold off for her, but it was too much...
"RonniBaby ... Dolllll, I'm ... It's ... Comingggggg!!!!" I thrust my hips up, driving into her center.
Her eyes squinched shut. She was sucking her breath in through flared nostrils. "Ggggnnnnnnnnghhhhhh! YES!" That last utterance was the reason good hotels had soundproof walls.
The walls of her virgin pussy clamped in spasmodic ripples around my surging shaft as I jetted into her. My own thrusts dwindled and she collapsed into my waiting arms. I held her, kissing her brown hair.
"Little one, I love you," I said.
When she raised her face off my chest, tears were coursing down her cheeks. "Oh, Dave, you don't know how many night and days I dreamed of being here..."
"Me too, little brown-haired girl. And here we are."
Her speech faculties had not yet returned. She buried her face in my chest and purred. Finally, she said, "Was I ... Was it okay?"
"Okay? Past okay, baby. Better that I dared to dream. You're everything I dreamed of, and more."
She held her hand up, looking at her ring. "Married, Dave! We're REALLY married!" She entwined legs and arms around me, kissing me. That was wonderful, and we kissed and caressed and played until she announced with a giggle, "Baby, it's gettin' hard again..."
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