Cici's Saving Throw

Being a few minutes makes a big difference..

This story was written for the 2025 Literotica Geek Pride Story Event. It's a slow-burn romance between young, inexperienced adults leading to a good payoff in the end. If you're looking for a romp with wall-to-wall graphic sex, please look elsewhere.

© SouthernCrossfire - 2025. All rights reserved,

_______________

If I'd been born seventeen minutes earlier, my life would have been much different.

My mother and her best friend from a couple of doors down the street were pregnant at the same time. They shopped for their babies together, went to birthing classes together (along with their loving husbands), and even had a little wager on which would give birth first. As it turned out, I was the loser in that bet, being born seventeen minutes after midnight, just twenty-five minutes after Trudi.

With our parents being best friends, of course Trudi and I did everything together when we were little and we naturally became best friends, too. Our parents sometimes swapped out to take care of both of us so the other couple could have a playdate of their own.

Since Trudi's mom had won the birth wager, she and Mr. Ingles got to go on the first such outing with Trudi and me being the real winners, with her getting to spend time with me at my house long before most kids even think about doing a sleepover with their friends. My parents went on their outing shortly thereafter and I got to stay with Trudi and her parents.

Maybe my parents would still be together if they'd continued doing that.

Then again, maybe not.

For the first few years of our lives, Trudi and I did practically everything together. However, when our mothers took us to be registered for kindergarten, we ran into a problem.

Remember those seventeen little minutes?

"I'm sorry, ma'am, state law requires that a child turn five years of age on or before September 30th to be enrolled in Kindergarten that school year; that's Trudi's case, but Cecilia was born on October 1st so she won't qualify until next year."

"But she was born just seventeen minutes after midnight on October 1st. Can't you make an exception?" pleaded my mother. "Trudi and Cici have been best friends since birth; they've done everything together. They're like twins."

"There's actually an exception allowed for genetic twins," said the grumpy old woman who insisted on calling me Cecilia, "but the law doesn't allow an exception for 'best friend' twins, I'm afraid. Sorry. Next!"

Therefore, while I didn't understand at the time, Trudi went to school while I was forced to stay home. In my mind, I believed my extra year of homebound incarceration was due to something I'd done wrong and that mindset affected me for years.

However, that first year, Trudi told me all about her adventures each day after school, allowing me to live vicariously through her experiences. If not for being born seventeen minutes after midnight, I would have lived it with her rather than through her.

*****

During the summer after her high school graduation, Trudi was a counselor at the summer camp where we'd spent part of several summers past, so it was an early taste of the loneliness that I would be experiencing when she left for college in the fall. While I had friends-- mostly girls-- in my class, I wasn't as close to any of them as I was to Trudi. I was fairly smart-- in the top 20 in my class-- but there were too many things wrong with me-- including not being pretty-- for me to be popular.

In hindsight, that I believed those things were wrong with me rather than how others perceived me was probably my biggest problem. It made me shyer and more withdrawn than I should have been. I had trouble talking to boys and my parents' incessant fighting as I grew older made things even worse, making me withdraw from them in order to stay out of their line of fire. Their fights often brought me to tears and made me jealous that Trudi was pretty and could not only deal with guys so easily, she also had parents who actually loved each other as much as they loved her.

By my sophomore year of high school, I topped out at 5'-5-inches tall; that wasn't too short by most standards but I was about 25 pounds too heavy for my height. That plus all-too-frizzy dark brown hair, freckles, persistent acne, braces, and a reserved personality (that was influenced more than a little by my feuding parents) had tended to keep guys away from me for other than the most basic of friendships or, more commonly, help with homework.

In fact, it was midway through my sophomore year when my parents, then at the climax of their bitter divorce proceedings, reluctantly agreed, after much argument, that I was old enough for limited dating. However, it didn't do me any good since neither Vic Granholm, whose seeming interest had prompted my request to Mom and Dad, nor anyone else ever got around to asking me out.

That changed a little during my junior year when my braces were gone. I actually went on a grand total of three dates with guys in similar situations, three socially awkward guys who were as desperate as I was. Unfortunately, in each case, it was essentially two self-conscious people with vastly different interests and little common ground trying to avoid doing anything dumb, and being so embarrassed by the end of the date that a second such horror show was never in the cards.

Avoiding guys due to embarrassment isn't a good recipe for making male friendships, but that's generally how I went through high school until the summer between my junior and senior years. With Trudi away at camp, I was bored and lonely so I decided to make some changes in and decisions about my life.

First, wanting to feel better about myself, I started running to try to lose some weight and get in better shape. I say running but it was far more walking than running at first, doing a two-mile course every day, running, walking when I tired, and then running again, repeatedly, until I finally got home, completely exhausted.

In that manner, I slowly built some strength and stamina and within a couple of weeks, I was running most of the course on most days. It was still a slow run and some people could probably walk faster, but it felt like a big accomplishment to me and my dad's advice on weightlifting and other exercise helped too.

I kept going with the running and my time slowly improved; as my speed and stamina got better, so too did my distance and my concentration. By the middle of July, I was up to 2.5 miles and, I believed, down a few pounds, though I refused to step on the bathroom scale, fearing how it would devastate me if I still weighed the same as before.

The mirror told me that wasn't the case, but I wasn't taking any chances.

Running gave me time to think; while I doubted that I'd ever be an award-winning novelist (yes, the lack of confidence was still a big problem, though I didn't realize it at the time), I liked to do research and write and I figured I might make a good investigative journalist. My first big investigation was looking into colleges: McNally State University had a good journalism program, was less than two hours away, and offered in-state tuition.

In another rare instance, my parents both agreed with my choice and I started filling out the paperwork for early admission.

The other big change in my life occurred during one of my runs almost two weeks before the start of my senior year of high school. As I was running that morning, I saw a young man standing at the end of a driveway. With no sidewalks in that subdivision, I was running at the side of the street but I moved out a little as I approached to avoid crowding him.

To my surprise, he called out "Hi" when I was still a number of steps away. "I've seen you running by here every morning since we moved in and you never have a bottle of water with you." He extended a bottle toward me as I was almost even with him. "It's hot and getting hotter as the day goes along so you should hydrate yourself regularly as you run."

"Thanks," I replied, waving him off as I passed him, "but if I stop, I won't make it home."

I wanted to take the water and guzzle it but I didn't know him and I knew if I stopped that I would be unable to restart. I'd come a long way with my running but it wasn't easy for me and I had to push myself to take each--

"Here, take it but keep going," he said, having run up beside me without me even noticing and easily matching my pace. "You're already covered in sweat so pour it like this so it doesn't hit your teeth-- you've either got good genes or a great orthodontist, by the way-- and if a little spills, it won't matter and may even cool you."

I glared at him but he was just smiling at me, a nice friendly smile showing kindness rather than the pity I tended to receive, and holding out the plastic bottle toward me as he ran in step with me.

While he hadn't run far, he wasn't even breathing hard and with his longer legs, he was making it look easy. Even worse, he didn't even appear to notice my glare.

"Why are you doing this?" I gasped as I continued on.

"Just trying to help," he replied. "I run cross country and was wondering if you're on the high school team. You are in high school, right?"

"High school, yes. Cross country, heavens no."

"I didn't think I recognized you but I've only been to one practice-- yesterday-- and haven't met everybody. Dad took a new job here in Dentley-- he started yesterday too-- so we just moved in last week. I'm Colin."

I couldn't talk and breathe and run and drink all at the same time so I took the bottle out of his hand and stopped right there, ripping it open and greedily guzzling almost half of it.

He ran on for a few steps before circling back, running in place for a few more paces before stopping.

"I'm Colin Scruggs," he repeated, extending his hand.

I think he was hinting, so I gave him a quick shake and replied, "Hi, I'm Cici Vandiver. Will you go to Dentley High or the Academy?"

"Dentley. I'm a senior this year and my parents can't afford private school. What about you?"

"Same," I said, finally able to breathe normally again. That was another thing that had improved since I started running; it took less time to catch my breath. "Thanks for the water."

"You live around here?"

"Yeah, a few blocks over that way."

He nodded but I noticed he was staring at my shoes rather than in the direction I'd nodded.

"Can I take a look at your sole?"

"Huh?"

"Your shoe sole. The way you were running and how you're standing now, I think you may need new running shoes. May I?"

The guy, a good-looking young man who was decidedly devoid of acne, stepped to my side, bent over, and gently raised my foot like it was a horse's hoof in a blacksmith shop!

"Hey!"

He only held it for a second before letting it back down.

"Yep, these are really worn," he said as moved around and did the same damn thing with my other foot. I scowled at his effrontery, but he didn't even notice.

"I'm guessing it's the way you run that's causing the uneven wear, but I'm pretty sure you're hurting your knees and probably your stride and your time by continuing to use these," he continued after taking a step back and giving me back the personal space he'd just invaded. "You should go to a good running store and have someone who knows what they're doing evaluate you and then fit you for new ones."

"Okay," I said, a bit taken aback that I was suddenly finding out that I was an even worse runner than I believed.

Again, he didn't seem to notice my frown, continuing on as if I'd said nothing. "You know, some stores also sell a good belt for runners that will hold a water bottle. And some even let you carry a cellphone, if you have one."

I shook my head. It would be Christmas of 1998, three years later, before I got my first cell phone.

"Well, I bet you could use the water, anyway. I'll give you the name of the belt I recommend, if you'd like, and maybe I can check with my teammates for a good store at practice this afternoon."

I was a bit peeved at his brazenness but also intrigued by what he was saying; my running shoes came from the local sporting goods store with my mother doing the fitting. As angry as she'd been since divorcing Dad and the way she'd tended to dress me so I "could grow into it" when I was younger, I wondered if he might have a point.

"What's your phone number?" he asked.

He seemed nice and seemed like he was trying to be helpful, but I hesitated for a moment, still not sure if I trusted him. Taking a chance, I gave him the phone number at Mom's house, where I lived most of the time. To my surprise, he pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote it on the palm of his hand. "Got it. I'll call you later with the info. Bye, Cici!"

Then, just like that, he was gone, running back toward his house as I stood watching with my mouth gaped open. He was turning up his drive as I came out of my stupor, calling out, "Nice to meet you, Colin."

*****

Trudi was back home for a few days before heading back to college, so we spent the following day together, with her telling me all about her adventures at camp when she wasn't raving about my weight loss.

"You look incredible, girl! We've got to go get you some new clothes!"

Most of the afternoon was spent at our town's little mall and the surrounding stores getting us both decked out for the new school year. Unfortunately, that reminded me that Trudi would be away at college and I'd be back in high school for another year thanks to those damned seventeen minutes. It made me sad that we wouldn't be able to spend as much time together.

However, my thoughts were pulled away that evening when Colin Scruggs called me as he'd promised. Instead of just giving me the info and hanging up, he talked on, and, to my surprise, I talked back and we had an actual conversation before hanging up.

"Cici, was that Trudi you were talking to?" asked my mom, knowing full well that it was a boy since she'd answered the phone.

"Trudi! I've got to call her!"

My dad took me to get new running shoes that weekend while I was spending the weekend with him. Unlike Mom, Dad was willing to pay for some nicer ones that fit. It still wasn't quite like running on air, but they were so much better than my old ones and the belt for the water bottle was a big help. I called Colin to thank him on Sunday evening and, to my surprise, we talked for well over an hour, far more than I'd ever talked with a guy, even during the three dates in my life.

It wasn't long before we were talking several times a week and then almost every night. Then I'd call Trudi and we'd talk for another hour, with my mom smiling and snickering at the changes she saw blossoming within me. A few days before school started, I caught her looking at me while I was washing my coffee cup.

"What? What's wrong?" I asked nervously.

"We need to go to the store and get you some new clothes, sweetheart. You've lost so much weight that your old things aren't going to fit."

I laughed and showed her the results of my shopping excursion with Trudi.

"That's a good start, but you'll need more than that. Do you have some time on Saturday?"

"Yeah. Trudi's leaving for college on Friday."

That made me depressed for the next couple of days, but Trudi and I went to dinner on Thursday night to celebrate her departure even as I mourned it. We compared calendars to see when she planned to come home for the weekend so I'd keep them open to spend time with her.

On Friday, she left and I talked to Colin for nearly two hours that evening, pouring out my heart about how sad I was that my friend was leaving.

"I don't know if it will help, Cici, but I'll always be here for you," he said.

To my surprise, that assurance actually made me feel at least somewhat better.

*****

Days later, with a new wardrobe, a new hair straightener, and some acne meds from my new dermatologist, I started my senior year of high school.

As I walked the halls of the school on the first day back, I drew repeated looks from guys who'd never given me a glance, much less a second one, but I ignored them and the few whistles and catcalls because I had my mind set elsewhere. And two weeks into the school year, the very shy "elsewhere" named Colin finally got the hint and I had a boyfriend for the first time in my life.

Our first date was that Saturday evening. We talked so long the waitress finally asked us to leave, so we were embarrassed about that issue rather than like the just-being-there embarrassment of my past dates. We gave our server a good tip, and in the weeks that followed, our relationship continued to build from there.

We'd been "together" for about two weeks when Colin invited me to run with him, though I quickly realized that was a mistake. He ran with me for the first quarter of a mile before leaving me in the dust. I'd warned him about my speed (or rather, the lack thereof) in advance, but he'd promised that he'd deal with it. Seeing him pull away and then disappear around a corner in the distance hurt but caused me to push myself to go faster.

I was so angry as I neared the three-quarter point of my run that I considered breaking up with him, but then he was there, beside me, running in step for the next several minutes, not saying a word but each of us casting little glances at the other and giving little smiles from time to time as we ran.

"Cici, you're flying today!" he finally said. "Think you can keep it kicked into high gear all the way to the end?"

"You're serious?" We were still over a quarter of a mile from my house.

"Yeah, as a heart attack! Let's do it. Ready? Go!"

While my mouth was still hanging open in disbelief and the word "Sure" or anything similar had never been uttered in response to his silly challenge, when he took off, my legs kicked in and I was chasing after him. I'm sure he slowed down to let me catch him but we ran together for that last little bit, my heart pounding, lungs heaving, and legs protesting every step of the way. Still, somehow, I kept up with him until we turned into my driveway.

I plopped down on the grass and pulled Colin down next to me as I tried to regain my breath. I finished the last of my bottle of water while smiling at him for his encouragement in completing the challenge while my heart, lungs, legs, and butt all screamed silently at him for offering the challenge in the first place.

Our hand clutched as we sat side by side and my head leaned over against his shoulder. Finding myself able to breathe again, I realized it was nice having him there to support and even challenge me.

A moment later, it was even nicer still when, to my surprise and joy, he kissed me for the first time.

*****

Fall semester of our senior year was so busy and it passed all too quickly at Dentley High, but Colin and I were together throughout it all which made it fun, and Trudi came home from college for the first time to celebrate our birthdays. Like most of our past birthdays, our families celebrated them together, but with Colin joining us this time.

My dad was there, too, staying as close to me but as far as possible from my mom, making for a few tense moments until I told them, in a rare private moment, that I expected civility from both of them. My mom looked a bit shocked at my demand, but I swear I saw a momentary smile on Dad's face.

It was hard seeing Trudi off again on Sunday morning, but she liked Colin and told him to treat me well.

*****

We celebrated Colin's birthday later in October, just a bit less than three weeks after mine. As we spent more time together, I felt closer and closer to him, so much so I was sure it must either be love or a serious case of hormones that I didn't know I had. With both of us being 18, our kisses became sensual and far more frequent as did our hugs, and we started talking about more adult things like college and careers and our future.

And sex. We talked about sex a lot.

Those hormones were in overdrive, both at school, on our weekly date, and whenever we could get together. We danced around it, with neither of us admitting to the "L" word but both of us feeling "something" and knowing that things were right between us.

When it came to sex, we both admitted to being virgins and neither of us were in a hurry to change that, but as I liked Colin more with each passing week, I suspected that it was just a matter of time. Looking ahead in our senior year planner, I circled a date in April: prom. When I mentioned it to Colin, the young man showed how far he'd matured in our relationship, taking the hint right away and asking me to go to our prom with him.

Biting my lip to avoid smiling too much, I suspected that our little virginity issue wouldn't be an issue after that.

*****

I'd never been to a cross country meet before meeting Colin but by late October, I'd been to several, sitting with his parents and little sister at several meets and even meeting his older brother, Cort, who was home from college for one.

Having done well enough throughout the season, Colin made it to the regionals in early November and to the state championships in mid-November. He placed ninth overall, leaving him disappointed that he didn't place higher but still quite good and good enough to receive small scholarship offers from several universities. Unfortunately, there were no offers forthcoming from McNally State, where we'd discussed attending college together.

"Cici, don't worry. I've asked Coach to call Coach Driscoll at McNally to see if they can do anything for me. There's a possibility that I can get something there too."

"I hope so, Colin. I want us to be together for college."

The experience with Trudi being four states away and how difficult it was for her to get home made me realize how important that would be if Colin and I were to be able to make it in the long term. We both thought we wanted that so we planned and plotted during our time together and then often spent the rest of the evening kissing and some surreptitious touching over our clothes.

I liked how it felt when he held my boobies, squeezing them a little and even finding and pinching my nipple through the padding. I didn't tell Mom but I bought a new bra-- an unpadded one that was as thin as I could find-- that became my new "spending time with Colin" bra since I wasn't nearly brave enough to go braless.

What surprised me more than how good I felt was how my touch seemed to excite him, making the front of his pants become hard and tight. I got pretty good at finding his length, whichever way it was oriented before he had to make his "strategic adjustment" and how my little over-the-pants massage made him moan.

We didn't take it very far, but both of us knew that it wouldn't be long before we would.

*****

After spending Thanksgiving day with Mom and my maternal grandparents, we returned home through a cold drizzle to a ringing phone. Thinking it was Colin, I rushed in and ripped it off the receiver but was surprised when Trudi's quivering voice said, "Cici! You're home! I've been calling every few minutes for over an hour. I need to talk to you. In person."

I was looking forward to talking to Colin but Trudi was my best friend and sounded desperate. "I'll be right there."

Minutes later, I was peeling off my raincoat and shoes at her front door before she threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. Sensing something was wrong, I hugged and patted her back, unsure what was going on. There was no time to ask, though, because she was pulling me up the stairs and into her bedroom where we'd spent so much time as kids. On locking the door and turning on her stereo, she sat down cross-legged on her bed just in time for her tears to start flowing.

Seeing them slip down her face, I sat down just like her, facing her with our knees practically touching, and took her hands in mine. "What's wrong, sweetie? Tell me."

We'd laughed and cried together many times over the years, often just like this on one of our beds, but something told me this was different. She struggled for a few moments before she fought through her tears and whispered, "There's a guy at school, Derrick, that I liked. I'd been spending some time with him at parties-- he joined a frat--"

"Oh, a frat boy. They're supposed to be naughty."

"Just wait. I hung around with him at the freshman quad, too, so we became friends and he eventually picked up on my interest and last week he asked me to be his date to one of their house parties since pledging was over."

"Go Trudi!"

"Oh, Cici, I wish. Anyway, we were having a good time so I went upstairs with him where we could talk and make out--"

"Yeow!" I teased, but she slapped my leg and shook her head. "Sorry."

"We did and it was fun, kissing and hugging and then lying down on the bed for more. Our kisses continued and our hands were roaming, over clothes at first, and then our clothes started coming off."

"Trudi! You didn't!"

"Oh yeah, I did. It was fast and so easy and then he was kissing my tits--"

Trudi had nice, round boobies, always a little bigger than mine and probably bigger still since my weight loss, though I didn't think I was hurting in that department.

"--and massaging them and sucking on my nipples. It sent shivers through me and I didn't want it to stop."

I felt myself flush, not just at her description but also at how she was cupping herself and squeezing, making her nipples pop under her sweater. In fact, they popped out so much that I suspected she didn't have a bra on under it. Realizing that I was mimicking her, I pulled my hand away from my breast and just avoided a sigh of relief when I realized she was too lost in her tale to have seen what I'd done.

"Then he was kissing down my tummy and unbuttoning my jeans. They were skin tight and I know they looked good on me, but I didn't care. I just wanted them off and I was raising up to help him get them there."

"Trudi!" I gasped in surprise at her brazenness. I was tingling all over in anticipation of what she was describing, each little step along the way, as he pulled them down, revealing her little red bikini panty. There was a brief break as she told how he struggled to get them off over her heels.

"He finally gave up and took my heels off before sending my jeans flying after them. Then he was touching my legs, sliding his hands over them making me really glad I'd shaved them. Cici, it was amazing, as if he was setting every nerve on end."

My eyes were closed as I ran my hands over my own jeans, over my legs, feeling what I imagined she felt.

"Then the touches became a full massage, both hands on one leg, both hands on the other, my calves, my thighs, and then--"

I could barely breathe, my eyes opening to see her rubbing herself just as she recalled what he'd done, just as I was doing to myself. I stopped again for a few moments, but seeing Trudi's hand--

"--I felt his fingers brush my coochie and I exploded right there, almost as good as my vibrator does it."

"You have a fucking vibrator?" I practically shouted, pissed but totally envious.

"Shh! Not so loud. Yeah, you don't? We'll go get you one tomorrow--it's Black Friday so maybe we'll find you one on sale. Anyway, he massaged my upper calves a few more times, brushing me every damn time, and then his hands were gone and I felt his breath, hot on my panties."

"No!" I breathed, unable to imagine it while being more than a little thrilled at the prospect of having my own toy.

"Oh, yeah! On my cooch and the very tops of my thighs. Cici, I was squirming, trying to get more and then..."

She paused, making me want to rip it out of her. "WHAT?" I demanded.

"He kissed, right there, once, twice, then once again, but he didn't stop. It was as if he was sucking my clit into his mouth through my panties. I didn't care; I just wanted them gone. I started to push them down but then it didn't matter. They were soaked. Him? Me? Both of us? I didn't care because he was locked on, hitting me over and over with his tongue, his lips, and everything. God, Cici, I was moaning."

There was a moan, all right, but it was mine, and I realized that I was rubbing myself through my jeans even as Trudi was describing it. My head was light, practically floating from the feeling.

Trudi smiled and nodded on hearing it and seeing me, knowing what I was feeling. A single finger went to her lips, and then she was unbuttoning her jeans and sliding a hand down the front.

My eyes widened, but she gave me a little grin as she leaned back against her headboard, her hand dipping deeper. I clapped my hand over my mouth in surprise, only to see her nod toward me, her eyes moving from my hand toward my pants.

I shook my head, rather violently. "Trudi, I'm not a--"

"Me either, silly," she giggled. "But," she added in a whisper I could barely hear over the music, "I've grown skilled in taking care of myself. Besides, it makes for a better tale if you're into the moment."

Her hand plunged deeper and her eyes closed before her head rolled back. "Derrick kept going, through my panties at first, and then they were so wet--I was so wet--when I started pushing them down, I barely felt it when he slid them down the rest of the way. Cici, he was eating me bare, his lips and tongue all over me. In me."

She paused again, giving a soft, sweet moan that was too much for me. My jeans were unbuttoned and I slipped my fingers down the front and into my panties, just far enough to reach my clit. On edge already, I was thrilled at the sensation as I started my little massage and kept going as Trudi's hand plunged much deeper, looking like it was going to rip her pants apart.

I smiled at the thought and then closed my eyes, enjoying my ride.

The sound of yet another diva--I was much more into my dad's older music--on the stereo was barely enough to mask the labored breathing of two girls on that bed, each doing their own thing. I was with Colin in my mind, with him doing the work.

Him doing me.

The thought of his breath tingling me.

His lips and, yes, his tongue.

Fingers, caressing me. Colin's fingers.

His hair, tickling my thighs as I wrapped myself around him.

It was the most sensual rise I'd ever felt, imagining it with my boyfriend while experiencing it with my best friend and her fellow-- at least in her memory-- and I knew it wouldn't be long.

"Getting so close," breathed Trudi. "So. Fucking. Close!"

"Yes!" I hissed, hoping that Colin's apparition in my mind wouldn't disappear and would push me over the edge with her. "Almost!"

Seconds later, Trudi moaned and I joined her as my own wave of happiness swept through me. She seemed to deflate a little, drawing herself up in a fetal ball as she clutched her knees to her chest. Sliding my hand out of my pants, I moved up and put my arm around her, patting her back as she slid an arm around to comfort me as well.

We were silent for a while, just holding each other, before she raised up and fluffed her pillow, and positioning herself full length on her side to look into my eyes. I fixed another of her pillows under my head and looked back at her.

"So?"

"Cici, he made me come so hard! It was totally amazing, even better than I'd ever done for myself. God, I was so hot and bothered; I wanted him, right then, right there, so I pulled him up and told him, 'I want you in me, now.' He must have wanted it as bad as I did, because he had a condom ready and on in a split second and pushed right in, hard."

"Wait," I said, knowing that Trudi was a virgin. The way she said it didn't sound good. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah, some, at first when he plunged all the way in-- he didn't do it slow like I've heard some people do it-- and I must have winced, maybe even shed a tear-- I'm not sure--"

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling for her as I held her hand, giving a comforting squeeze.

"No, it wasn't that bad, but Derrick must have noticed. He stopped for a second, letting me feel how full I was of him, and then he started fucking me. I want to say he made love to me, but it was too short and too fast, and really, too overwhelming. He did it even harder at the end than he did going in and then pulled out right away when he came, pulling the condom off. He looked at it before tossing it in the trash and then he asked the question."

"Ah! 'Was it as good for you as it was for me?'" I guessed like I'd heard in some movie.

"I wish. The bastard stood there putting his clothes on and asked, "Trudi, were you a fucking virgin?"

"No!"

She nodded and her eyes drew cloudy. "It was the most enjoyable, most adult thing I'd done in my whole life to that point. I was-- I don't know, proud?-- that I'd given my virginity to someone I liked, someone I'd remember. He'd already gotten me off first before we did it, so it didn't bother me that he didn't ask if it was good or something. I've heard that women don't always O the first time and not even always from vaginal sex and I understood that, but I'd figured-- well, something. Something to let me know it was at least a little special to him. Instead, he finishes so abruptly and he doesn't spend any time with me afterward."

"He didn't even kiss you?"

"No, not really. At least not a real kiss that I'd remember. He just got dressed and asked if I'd been 'a fucking virgin.'"

"Trudi, no! I'm so sorry. I can't believe he did that to you."

"Me either but I was totally mixed up at the time and feeling bad, so I answered, expecting him to hug me and ask if I was okay."

Something in her voice told me the answer. "But he didn't, did he?"

'Nope, he took a good look at me suddenly feeling embarrassed and trying to cover myself on the bed and then he shot out of the room. I jumped up and locked the door, not wanting him to come back in and see me again, and I got dressed as fast as I could. I just wanted to get out of there.

"I went downstairs and headed toward the front door to escape but I think every pair of eyes in the place was on me when I went through the main hall where the party was. I saw Derrick up front then, standing with the frat president, and he raised both arms like he'd just won a race, and everybody, the guys and their dates, started clapping for him, I think, but a lot of them were looking at me.

"Why?" I asked, completely confused.

"I didn't know, but then one of the guys that I passed asked, 'Were you really a virgin? And do you want to go back upstairs and have a go with a real man?'"

"No!"

"Yes. I ran out, but I've had five or six of Derrick's frat brothers asked to fuck me since then. That's bad enough, but about two weeks have passed and he hasn't given me the time of day."

Trudi was sobbing so I took her in my arms and clutched her against me. Such a potentially beautiful thing she'd experienced only to have it ripped away, ruined, by someone who didn't really care about her after all.

We lay there on the bed, with me holding her for a bit until her sobbing turned to sniffles and she was drying her eyes.

"Cici, listen to me. You've got to promise me something."

"You know I'll do anything I can for you, Trudi. I don't think I want to be in on the castration thing if that's what you have in mind--"

As sad as she was, she still burst out laughing at that. "No, no, nothing like that. The first part was so good but the last part, how Derrick betrayed me, still hurts but telling you, saying it out loud, has helped me get over him, I think. No, it's not even something for me. It's actually for you."

Confused, I asked, "What? For me?"

"Yeah, don't take your V-card off to college with you and get burned with it like I did, sweetie. If you like your Colin as much as you've told me, give him your virginity this year. Or, if that doesn't work out, give it to someone else you really like and really trust. I don't want you to go through what I did with some asshole frat guy who was more interested in getting himself off and making a name for himself in his house for deflowering a virgin than being square with me. Promise me, Cici. Promise me!"

Not hesitating and not thinking, I nodded. "I promise."

*****

Colin and I spoke for a few minutes late that evening; he was still at his grandparents' house. "We'll be back on Saturday night so let's get together then. I'll take you to dinner," he said.

I agreed and that let me spend Black Friday shopping with Trudi, but we hadn't anticipated Mom and Mrs. Ingles tagging along with us. Our moms were still best friends after so many years, and Trudi loved spending time with her mother just like I did with mine (when she wasn't bitching about my dad), but I was a little chafed that we didn't get to go buy my vibrator like Trudi had promised. When I whispered to Trudi about not getting to make my special "personal purchase" when we made a trip to the girls' room, Trudi laughed.

"Don't worry about it, girl, but just remember: do NOT open your Christmas present from Santa Trudi in front of your mom or dad this year," she said with a wink.

*****

Colin's family got home early Saturday afternoon so we talked for a bit and finalized our plans for the evening. His parents even agreed to let him borrow his dad's pickup truck for our date.

He took me to dinner at a diner not too far from home and then we drove until he pulled into a parking lot and parked about as far away from the store as we could be.

"Cort told me this was a good spot. A little traffic so it's safe but far enough out no one will bother us but it's easy to pull off in the off chance anybody does."

With him leaving the engine running, I was pretty sure I knew exactly what he was talking about but I gave him a frown and played dumb, making him come right out and tell me. I gave him a look, he looked completely embarrassed, and then I started laughing and we had a little fun that wasn't possible at his house or mine.

Prom and our virginity resolution was still almost five months so I knew we wouldn't go too far, but, yes, we had fun in his dad's pickup, still fully clothed, while going well past where we'd gone before after he straightened himself.

"Oh, fuck!" he breathed as I continued massaging him over his pants while he kneaded my boobie and tweaked my nipple with them still cooped up in my new bra. Colin was squirming and seemingly enjoying what I was doing, so I kept going.

"Oh my God," he gasped before I felt him pulsing in his pants, emptying himself and letting me get a whiff of that particular, slightly-musky male smell of sex for the first time. "God, that was good, Cici. Thank you. Give me a minute and then let me do you."

I was really grinning, proud of what I'd been able to do for him despite, or possibly because of Trudi telling me how it was so much easier it was to do without clothes in the way. Colin let go and put his arms around me for a moment so we could kiss and I swear I think I felt his heart pounding in his veins when we touched.

He reached for the button on my jeans and was about to undo it to give him better access when a light flicked through the cab of the pickup.

"Uh-oh! Company!" he said, sliding back behind the wheel and taking off before the person in the approaching car could stop us or even see anything. Scared that it could have been a policeman or security guard and that they might have gotten the license plate number of his dad's truck, we never went back there again.

*****

Therefore, when I went to bed on the Friday night before Christmas, I was relaxed and happy. My exams had gone well and were over, I was at my dad's, and I was looking forward to a date with Colin the next night. Dad and I ran down to see my paternal grandparents on Saturday morning, and then headed back home late that afternoon so I could get ready for my date.

Colin called me on Dad's house phone shortly after we got back.

"Cici, I know we have a date this evening but can you come over here instead of me picking you up. My dad's got me on the chain gang. I'll explain when you get here, okay? Got to go."

"Okay, I'll be there at 6." I think I said the last few words to a dead line. "Dad!"

Dad agreed to let me borrow his car and I pulled up in front of Colin's house at just before 6 to see the garage door open and a number of boxes stacked there. I was just halfway up the driveway when Colin walked out of the garage toward me.

"Cici, thanks for coming." He looked nervous, apprehensive, the way he'd often looked when we first met, before we'd dated for a while. That worried me.

"What's going on, Colin?"

"Did you see the news last night?"

"No, I was at Dad's."

"They closed my dad's plant."

"No!"

"Yeah. Shut it down three days before Christmas and laid off everybody, including Dad. The owner's putting the building and the equipment on sale since he couldn't find a buyer for the company."

"Oh, Colin, I'm sorry. What can I do to help?"

"That's not the worst of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Dad called his old boss last night and told him what had happened. Mr. Sawyer called him back this morning and offered Dad his old job back at his old rate. Dad accepted right there on the phone, so we're moving back to Kentucky."

"No, Colin. No!"

"Yeah, it's true. I'm sorry."

"When?"

"The moving guys are coming on Tuesday--"

"That's the day after Christmas."

"Yeah, but we're pulling out on Wednesday morning so I'll be graduating from my old high school after all."

"Oh, Colin, I'm so sorry. What can I do to help?"

"No, no, it's okay. Mom and Dad have had me helping pack all day after I got my room packed up. With my brother Cort heading off to college right after we moved here, he didn't unpack too much so his room was pretty easy but then they made me help my little sister box up her room. If I ever see another Barbie doll, I think I'll scream."

I hugged him, but he still looked uncomfortable when we separated a few moments later.

"Colin, what about us?" I asked, taking his hands in mine. "You know, boyfriend, girlfriend? Our plans? Prom?"

My stomach suddenly tightened into a knot because he wouldn't look at me despite the fact I was right in front of him.

Even with him looking away, I could see the pain in his face. "Cort told me the long-distance thing never works out so we should just end it now."

"What? You're taking advice from your brother? About us? Colin, you've told me over and over that he's an asshole. Look how he almost got us caught at that stupid shopping center! Anyway, what does he know, particularly about us?"

Yes, I was still peeved at Cort about the shopping center thing, and Colin and I had been really careful ever since.

He shook his head. "Cort's a complete asshole, but he knows more about relationships--and long-distance ones that fail--than me."

"But he doesn't care for me the way you do. And I sure don't care for him. Or care what he thinks."

"I know. But, unfortunately, I think he's right this time. We need to end this now, a clean break, so you can find someone else you can be with. And go to the prom with."

"You're breaking up with me," I declared, restating the obvious but not believing either of us was saying it. "Colin, I thought we cared about each other. At least, I know I care about you."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I do care about you and I really wanted it to work but..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"You aren't even willing to try? You know, letters, calls, email even. Dad got us a family AOL email address last week for Christmas so it would be easy."

"No," he replied, his voice was firm, unlike my own. "It wouldn't be easy, Cici. It would be hard and it would drag things out, making us take longer to let go." He wasn't even considering it as an option.

While it definitely wasn't what I wanted; I wanted to argue, to impress on him that I didn't want to let go, but he'd made his position clear and I didn't want to keep repeating myself. As hard as it was, I nodded and said, "Goodbye, Colin. Take care," before turning back down the driveway.

"Cici, wait! Let's at least say goodbye so we can remember it."

With tears streaming down my face, I didn't want him to see me and sure didn't want to kiss him goodbye to remember him dumping me so I didn't stop, walking out the end of his driveway and out of his life.

*****

I'd been excited for Christmas and for all the plans I'd made, but they suddenly came crashing down and crying became my major pastime. I was so shocked by our sudden breakup that I walked home, completely forgetting that I was staying with Dad and that I'd driven his car across town to Colin's.

"Cici? What are you doing home? What's going on? Your father knows he can't just drop you off without checking with me. I have a date tonight," said Mom, looking upset while trying to get ready. Seeing her in her skimpy sheer robe and nothing else reset my reality and she gave me a sharp look when I let a curse word fly in front of her.

However, she understood when I told her my sad tale with the tears turned back on, and she hugged me and comforted me like I was a toddler all over again. Sitting me down and throwing her arm around me, she called Dad, explained what had happened, and told him she wanted to make sure I was in a calm state of mind before driving back to his house.

"No, Mom, I'm fine," I said, drying the last of my tears. "I'm hurting but I'm not that fragile. Just drop me off to get Dad's car at Colin's before you go on your date, okay?"

Both of my parents were very supportive that night and throughout the holidays, always loving me and cooperating to help me despite their differences. Trudi was back home for a few days, too, and she was also a big help as we spent time together. She did question me on the progress about my promise, but she mostly let me off the hook on that due to the situation with (or, maybe more correctly, without?) Colin.

However, much of Trudi's holiday time was spent thinking of and raving about Mark, her new boyfriend; it seemed that her big embarrassment of six or so weeks earlier was practically forgotten. She'd tested Mark out early in their relationship and claimed he'd passed with flying colors, allowing her to give me some pointers that I filed away in the back of my mind, hoping they might come in handy eventually.

Trudi and Mark made it together all the way into February, if I remember correctly.

Early February. She had a new boyfriend by Valentine's Day.

After the start of the new year, Trudi was gone once more and my final semester of high school began. A few friends asked me where Colin had gone, but I downplayed it and left out the part about our breakup, thereby shielding myself from most unwanted invitations for dates.

While I accepted that Colin was gone for good, I wasn't interested in starting over with someone else so late in my high school career. Though a few of my classmates went to McNally State, where I'd been accepted for early admission, most went elsewhere and I didn't want to take a chance of being dumped again. My promise to Trudi was always in the back of my mind, but I realized I had to be true to myself and my plan to give my virginity to someone I really cared about rather than just someone convenient.

As prom season approached, a couple of guys asked me to go to prom with them, but I wasn't feeling it with either; one, Jason Parker, had been a particular pain in the ass in earlier years before my transformation, and I sensed that, with his invitation, he was just trying to score with the former fat chick.

"Sorry, Jason, you're too late; someone's already asked me," I replied, twisting the knife a little more than I probably should have but putting an end to any questioning. That the someone who'd asked me was now in Kentucky and wouldn't actually be coming in for the dance was left unsaid.

Vic Granholm asked, too, but he'd burned his bridge by not asking me sophomore year when I thought he was going to. Therefore, in the end, I stayed home with Mom and a pint of Rocky Road ice cream for each of us.

Considering my boy troubles, that seemed like a particularly appropriate flavor at the time.

*****

My parents and both sets of grandparents came to my high school graduation, and Mom and Dad were polite and cooperative once again, but both were seeing someone else at the time so my unspoken but ongoing desire to see them get back together and make a real go of it got up and went.

The summer passed with me continuing my running and working at a veterinary clinic, and on Flag Day, just a few weeks after graduation, I ran my first 5K race. I didn't win by any means, but I finished a lot faster than I expected, and the result made me want to do more.

Trudi was working as a camp counselor again that summer, so we were only able to get together for a few days early in the summer when she came home from school before heading out to camp. She asked about my progress on my promise, but nodded knowingly when I told her I was working on it. She didn't bother asking when she came home for the week before heading to college; she knew the answer.

"Just be careful, Cici," she warned. "You didn't want in on the castration party for Derrick, but if I find out someone pulls that kind of shit on my best friend? Well, I will be."

*****

On reaching McNally State University, there were new people to meet and new experiences to try. Having brainstormed in advance, I had a long list.

"Want to go to the frat parties with us?" asked Carolyn, my new, randomly-assigned roommate, on our first night at school. "They're open and there'll be lots of booze if you make friends with an upperclassman."

The way she said "make friends" sounded like "hook up" to me. Remembering Trudi's disaster and her warning, attending wild frat parties to have my lingering virginity exposed to the masses by an upperclassman was not among the top few hundred things on my list.

"Thanks, Carolyn, I might catch up with you later, okay?"

"Great! See you there," she said before heading out into the hallway to join the herd of freshman girls heading out. Generally loud and obnoxious, some of them already looked drunk or possibly high and a few were openly discussing being on "the hunt."

Maybe I was mistaken on what they meant, but I didn't think so. As far as I was concerned, they could have it.

I stayed in for a little while that evening and then went downstairs to meet some of the girls who, like me, wanted to take it a little slower than the go-getters in the initial group. I became friends with several of the girls I met that evening and a few of us stayed in touch throughout our college careers and beyond.

We had a tame evening wandering down frat row, mostly listening to the bands and meeting but not getting too close to any of the guys. Safety in numbers was our unspoken motto, and we tried to protect each other, making sure no one got picked off unless they decided they really wanted to. Most of us were back and safe in our dorm rooms before midnight. Once there, I had an idea so I spent some time going through the freshman activity book, making a few notes before finally going to be around 12:30 or so.

Carolyn's bed was still empty when I did.

She finally made it back to our room sometime between 2 and 3 a. m. As drunk, smelly, and disheveled as she looked when she threw on the overhead light and crashed into bed without turning it off, I suspected that she might no longer have a virginity problem, if she'd had one to start with.

Awake and frustrated, I finally got up and turned the light off as she lay passed out on the bed.

*****

On Sunday, I went to the Freshman activities fair and spoke with people at several booths including getting an appointment with a couple on Monday afternoon after my first classes.

The appointment at the student newspaper was a bust. So many people wanted to work there that they required applicants to have taken Journalism 1001 to be considered for a position. While I understood, it was disappointing that I'd have to wait until the next semester to have a shot.

Therefore, I tried my backup plan, heading over to the campus radio station. It was small and relatively low power, but it broadcast music and student-produced content twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, with the signal reaching the entire campus plus parts of the surrounding area. My dad had been an audiophile for as long as I could remember, and some of his eclectic taste in music had rubbed off on me during my childhood. Since I knew the music, I figured I might be able to get an hour sometime during the broadcast week to play some of his favorites that had become favorites of my own over the years.

The station's assistant manager quickly disabused me of that idea much like editor at the student newspaper.

"Cici, we worked out our fall broadcast schedule in the spring, plugged a few holes for people who transferred or otherwise didn't make it back, and we've started working on a very preliminary version of the spring semester schedule now."

"So you don't have anything for me now?" The disappointment in my voice was obvious. As far as I was concerned, the radio rep that I spoke with at the activity fair could have told me that and saved me the time.

"No, I didn't say that. What I meant was that I don't have a show slot for you. There's actually lots to do and we need warm bodies to get everything done. If you join the station staff and prove yourself around here this fall, we can probably get you a show in the spring or at least by summer semester anyway-- there's always a lot of openings in the summer--"

That was even more disappointing; I didn't want to have to go to school in the summer, particularly since Trudi told me there would be openings for counselors at the camp the next year. However, that's when he threw me a lifeline.

"--and on the substitutes list, filling in on shows when the usual host is out 'sick'-- i. e., usually studying for an exam or finishing term paper or something."

"Does that happen a lot?"

"It happens a lot more than I'd like, but that's how lots of our hosts get their start. Some people also do voicework for student PSAs and such. We also always need producers and broadcast engineers, though those usually take a little more training and more commitment, but those folks often get first dibs on the substitutes list, often filling in for their own hosts."

It wasn't what I wanted, but it might be a start. "So what's available?

*****

I started on Thursday afternoon, the 4 to 7 shift, with my responsibility basically being taking public service announcements for students, writing them up, and then, after we locked the front door to the station at 6 p. m., going into the sound booth to record the 15 or 30 second clips for broadcast like commercials at the end of shows.

Pete, the producer/engineer, said, "We're a small station, but we try to do a professional job for the university and the community. So, let's hear what you've got."

I read the script I'd written and he slowly nodded. "You've got a good voice, but it sounds like you've got a whole bunch of butterflies, too; I can practically hear their wings rustling. Just relax. Now, let's try it again."

I did and then again. And again, with Pete showing me how to operate the recording equipment each time since I'd be doing it on my own most of the time in the future.

Eight times I recorded it, with me even operating the equipment the last few times, before Pete nodded and said, "Okay! We'll call that one a wrap."

Seeing the disappointment on my face, he added, "Don't worry, you'll get better at it, and it will be good training for when you do make it on the air to fill in or for a show of your own. And the good news is that you have enough experience with the equipment that you can record the next one on your own. You ready?"

I did four more that evening, three that I'd taken from students and one that had come in earlier in the day, with Pete watching me on the first three and then leaving me in the little studio on my own for the last one. I think he just wanted me to prove to myself that I could do it without him. I was a bit nervous when he left, but things went okay and it wasn't long before I was back at my desk collecting my things to head to the dining hall and start studying.

He and the on-air D. J. were in the back, so when I unlocked the door to leave, I almost ran into a young man reaching for the door knob. He was taller than me, probably over 6-feet, and a little thin, almost gangly, with dark hair and a studious expression that turned to surprise on seeing me.

"Hi!" we said in unison, with me still standing in the open doorway..

"Ahem, the station's business office is closed for the evening," I added.

"Oh. I heard I might be able to get an ad on the campus radio."

"We don't do ads for students, just PSAs. You know, public service announcements. If you need a real ad--"

"A PSA, that's it. That's what I need, for an event. I have flyers up all over campus but I've only received two calls. One of the callers suggested I try the student radio station for one of your ads, uh, PSAs."

He was so nervous, even more than me doing that first recording just over an hour earlier. "Good call," I said, trying to encourage him. "They'll be glad to help you in the morning. In fact, I just recorded several PSAs that will start playing tomorrow. Business hours are 9 a. m. to 6."

"Okay, thanks. When will you be back to record more?"

I laughed. "I'm new, but they have a number of people who can record it for you."

"What about you? You have, ah, a lovely voice. When will you be recording more?"

"Me?" I asked in surprise. "Oh, I just work Thursdays; in fact, today was my first shift. I'll be glad to do it for you next Thursday, if you really want me to record it for you."

He slumped in disappointment, his dark blue eyes dropping. "Oh-h. That'll be too late. Our first game is scheduled for next Friday. I have a room reserved at the student activity center and everything."

"I'm sorry. What's your game?"

"I ran a D&D campaign-- you know, Dungeons & Dragons-- in high school, so I'm going to try it here. I've got two people I've talked to plus those two who called from my flyers, but I was hoping for four to six more. I guess I'll stop in tomorrow and see about getting someone else to--"

There was something about him and about how disappointed he looked that I wouldn't be able to record his PSA. I recalled Colin talking about playing D&D at his old school, but I didn't remember knowing anyone from Dentley High who'd played.

"Hold on!" I said, interrupting him. "I'm Cici, and you're?"

"Ahhh," he croaked, looking startled that I'd even asked, but then forced it out. "Sam! I'm Sam."

"Hi, Sam. The dining hall doesn't close until 8 and this shouldn't take but a few minutes. Come on in if you really want me to record it."

With the door still open, I could still get back in, so we went inside where I checked his student I. D.--

Sam Thomason. I'd remember that.

--to record on the log and I handed him the form. He jotted down the info, I wrote the script and read through it as I timed, and then I made a little revision to get it to the right length. Minutes later, after checking in with Pete who was finally about to head out, I was in the booth making one more recording as Sam, looked on, transfixed.

"That sounds great," he said, smiling after I did my first take.

"Shh! No talking," I warned before laughing. "Recording booth, remember. That's why you're not supposed to be in here and not supposed to say anything when I let you come in to listen."

He nodded, not saying a word, but he grinned when I recorded it a second time, and gave me a thumbs up instead of speaking even after I shut everything down.

"That's it. You can speak now," I laughed. We talked as he walked me out, with me telling him the bit would probably start running in the next day or two. He was excited and thanked me, asking if he could buy me dinner.

"Oh, that's not necessary," I replied. "It's my job. Good luck with your game and getting enough players."

"Thanks, Cici. I'll see you around." He did that visibly deflated thing once again as he said it and turned away, hiking his backpack filled with books on his shoulder.

"Bye, Sam," I called after him, watching him go, heading off in the general direction of the campus library.

It was only then, as I watched him walk away, that I realized he'd asked me to dinner and not asked to pay me with dinner for my efforts.

And, for some reason, I felt like an ass.

*****

I don't know what it was about Sam Thomason, the young man I'd helped, but I couldn't get him out of my mind, either that Thursday evening or the next day. I ended up checking in at the radio station and got the schedule for when the PSAs I'd recorded would play on air, and I was glad to see that Sam's would get on the air in at least one time-slot where I might be able to catch it.

Sam was thin and maybe even a bit awkward-looking for his height, reminding me of Julia Robert's ex but younger and a lot better looking. He seemed really shy, too, though he'd opened up a little in the sound booth when he was supposed to be quiet. I chuckled at the thought, and smiled remembering the way he'd smiled at me. All-in-all, he seemed nice, which made me wonder if he really was.

It was a silly question following a silly series of thoughts, but they all lingered and I made sure to be back in my dorm room to catch the broadcast.

I listened to myself over the radio and, to my surprise, I sounded good, professional even, as if I'd been doing PSAs for years. That gave me a huge confidence boost and I knew I wouldn't be as worried the following Thursday if I got to make more.

However, it was the next morning while on my run that my usual routine of thinking and planning was upset as I couldn't get that PSA for Sam Thomason's D&D game out of my mind.

Or was it that I couldn't get a gawky, geeky boy out of my mind? To be honest, I wasn't sure.

For the next two days I thought about it and by Monday night I knew what I had to do. Feeling as uncertain as I had when I first recorded that first PSA, I dialed the number.

"Hi, is this Sam? Hi, my name's Cici and I heard the PSA for your game on campus radio. I was wondering if you had any slots left?"

*****

There were six people already there when I showed up on Friday night. From the books and dice (and even dice trays) and figures that they were setting on the table in front of them, I suspected that I might be the only new player.

I'd brought my portfolio with a new pad of paper and an ink pen in it.

Then I saw the seventh person, Sam, and saw his face light up when he saw me. He dropped what he was doing at the head table and came my way.

"Cici, hi! So glad you could make it." Stepping closer, he added, "I was so hoping that the Cici who called and my radio friend Cici with the lovely voice were one and the same. I thought so over the phone, but you know how the sound quality on phones is."

He seemed as nervous as ever, and I was surprised he didn't tell me that phones would be all digital in a few more years and the sound quality would improve.

Or maybe his shoe size.

Instead, he said, "Here, have a seat over here." Noticing how light I was traveling, he guessed, "You don't have dice or a player's manual or anything, right?"

"Total newbie here," I replied. "I can just watch tonight if I need to pick up some things to be able to play."

"Not at all! I have several sets of dice so I'll lend you one with all the sizes you'll need. I have an extra player's manual, too, though you may need to share that if we have any other newbies."

I thanked him but must have looked as nervous as he had just moments earlier, but now he was in his element and his nervousness was gone. He surprised me by reaching out and taking my hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Cici, as for being new, don't worry about that. We all started as new at some point; tonight, just try to learn a little and, hopefully, have a nice time so you can decide if you want to come back to play again."

"Thanks, Sam," I replied. "I'm hoping so."

"Me, too, Cici. Me too."

*****

With ten players and nine having experience, Sam spent a little more time with me helping me get my player together.

Based on my responses to his questions, he jotted down a few player classes, told me a bit about them including their pros and cons, and then let me read about them in the player's manual while he made his way around inside the open square of tables, two on each side for two players at each and his single table up front. I was sitting with a girl named Jeanie, the only other female in the room. We whispered a bit as we worked to set up our characters, and ended up hitting it off, while my eyes kept wandering off after Sam.

Within an hour, we'd established our characters, handed him our 3x5 card summaries, and then made an extra series of dice rolls. He handed each player one to three 3x5 cards in return based on those rolls.

I'd chosen to be a human cleric, a healer in service to some deity called The Sister but a healer who was also apparently willing to bash the heads of the deity's opponents if the situation called for it. One of my 3x5 cards gave me info on the goddess the character served and some background on why her order had sent her there, so it filled in some gaps and allowed me to imagine what the character would be feeling and doing.

In short, I suspected the added background made the scenario Sam would spin for us more fun.

"If there aren't any more questions, let's get started," said Sam as my eyes fixed upon him. Yes, definitely better looking than Julia Roberts' ex, I decided..

"Let me guess," said the guy who'd been making jokes about playing a Dwarven fighter named Cronlak, "we're in a tavern drinking."

Sam smiled and shook his head. "No, but all of you wish you were in a tavern drinking. Or at least somewhere with something to drink. In fact, most if not all of you wish you had something, anything, to drink."

The guy playing Cronlak took a big slug of the drink in his thermos--I suspected it was beer or perhaps something harder. He was frowning at Sam, but looked both interested in the situation and relieved that he had his own drink in hand.

"No," continued Sam, "you're in the midst of the desert ten days out from Qubillí. After the first day fighting off an enemy pursuit-- that's 200 experience points to each of you. Annalei," he added, looking directly into my eyes and making my heart flutter a little but using my cleric's name, "I'll help you with that after the session ends."

Turning back to the group at large, he said, "In fact, some of you have probably come to regret journeying to the city in the first place, and most of you now question the wisdom of fleeing with the caravan from the city as the Zatandin horde broke through the Qubillian outer defenses in their long-running war. Everyone in the caravan now realizes that it doesn't have enough resources in the way of food and water to make it to the next stop without losing some, if not many, of its members."

"Well, at least we're not sitting in a fucking tavern drinking," said the Cronlak guy, causing several of the others to nod. He pretended to burp loudly-- at least I think he pretended-- before asking, "So where we gonna get some water. Or grog or whatever liquid shit they have around here?"

"Funny you should ask that," said Sam, "for you see the caravan master approaching you. 'You lot,' he says to your group, 'come with me. I have a job for you.' Pulling you away where other members of the caravan can't hear, he says, 'Four days ahead at a good pace is a small oasis--it would take the caravan as a whole about ten days to get there if we had enough water, which we don't."

"Why'd you bring us out here without enough supplies?" asked a guy whose name I didn't know.

Sam gave a wry smile. "'Because,' says the caravan master, 'most of the people fleeing the city would rather die of thirst rather than experience what the Zatandans will do to the people in Qubillí if things keep going like it looks. Got it?'"

When the guy nodded, Sam continued, "The caravan master says, ' You are to take all of our empty skins and casks and go ahead to get water. Get there and get back as soon as you can, bringing all the water you can. I'm having some camels prepared for your use. We'll keep moving toward you at the pace we can and meet you within a week. If all goes well, we might save most of these people.'"

"Why shouldn't we take all the camels and waterskins and just keep going?" asked another guy who hadn't revealed his character's name or occupation, making Jeanie and me speculate that he was a thief and that his character's moral alignment probably wasn't similar to our own.

Sam smiled. I could tell he'd anticipated this and I put my hand over my mouth to keep from grinning as he replied, "'There are three reasons actually. First, I have your wages,' says the caravan master, 'and you won't get paid unless you return. There are a lot of people here depending on you, so, secondly, I'm also going to add a bonus of an extra 50 gold to each of your wages, with the bonus payable on your return. It will be the easiest money you've ever earned... if you return with the water to collect it.'"

"You said three." The speaker was Jeanie, who was playing a carefree female elven mage. Looking at her, I suspected the character the way Jeanie described her was very similar to Jeanie in real life.

"'Ah, number three,' replied the caravan master. 'The way across this desert isn't a straight line. Without experience here or a damn good map, you won't make it out alive, even with all the water you and your stolen camels can carry. Get to the oasis, get the water, and get back as soon as you can, and I'll get you through alive, because I have both. If not, your sun-bleached bones will adorn this wasteland like so many others before you. At least until they're buried in the sand.'"

I looked at my player sheet and saw that Annalei had 3 gold pieces to her name; the bonus would come in handy and might help me upgrade my armor like I'd discussed with Jeanie. She was a seasoned player, and she'd already been a big help to me as I learned the game.

I also read through the stats and info at the top of my character sheet. Considering that she was of good alignment and serving the Sister deity, I knew that she'd do the right thing to help the others since it would further her overall mission that had been explained on that 3x5 card Sam had given me earlier in the evening. Looking up at Jeanie and then at the others, most gave a nod. The suspected-thief guy scowled for a second and then threw his hand up dismissively in acceptance.

For the next little while, our party plus some camels journeyed across the desert toward the oasis, battling a couple of sand walkers on the way. Our fighter types took the lead in that, telling the rest of us to stay back and use ranged weapons or spells. I didn't have anything but a couple of throwing hammers that glanced off ineffectively, but the battle and some injuries gave me a chance to cast my first healing spells and actually feel like part of the party and the process.

Sam caught my smile and smiled back at me for just an instant before moving seamlessly to the next action.

When we finally approached the oasis, Sam said the camels wanted to hurry into the little grove to get water, but a couple of players, including Thief Guy, warned that we should study it first, in case there was someone, or something, waiting in ambush.

Our characters spread out and Thief Guy said his character was going prone and attempting to move silently toward the oasis, following the natural swales in the dunes as he moved forward. Someone remarked it would be better to wait for nightfall, but we were baking in the hot desert sun and those in the caravan were probably dying of thirst.

I don't think any of us were really surprised when we found the oasis occupied by some Zatandan raiders, but what was surprising to me was the intensity of the fight, the exhilaration of battling the enemies that Sam described and using the dice to determine the outcome of our attempted actions. More than that, though, was the thrill of danger as my Annalei got hit once and then again only to see Jeanie's character recoil and fall to her knees when struck by a sling stone.

"That's four hit points, leaving your Erondelí with one point," Sam told Jeanie. "In addition, the spell you were casting is interrupted and lost."

I was up next; based on where I understood my character to be, I told Sam that Annalei was moving up to Jeanie's character's side to protect her with her body.

"As Annalei moves that way, she sees a flash of bright light in front of her. Roll a saving throw."

"What's a saving throw?" I asked, confused. I didn't recall that term having been used to that point in the evening.

"Imagine it this way," replied Sam, looking straight into my eyes. "Everyone has some natural immunities. Everyone has some degree of luck. Some things hit dead on and others glance away. A saving throw is the game's way of taking those types of things into account. When something happens or someone tries to throw a spell at a character, sometimes something happens to save-- or sometimes partially save-- something from happening to the character. The dice roll you make is your attempt to see if your character avoids some or all of the effects."

Thinking I understood, I rolled the die Sam said. "Eighteen," I told him, not sure if that was good or bad.

Sam smiled. "Annalei gives a shiver as she feels something strange, a cold fear, brush past her but she reaches Erondelí the Mage and is able to get between her and the Zatandans."

That was the end of my turn but the next round I cast a healing spell on Jeanie's mage and then whacked one of our enemies the next time after that. The battle lasted a while, ending only when we took down the last of the enemy fighters and their spellcaster fled the oasis on a camel.

After the battle, we collected what we could use from our dead opponents and their meager supplies in the oasis, and then, in a matter of five minutes, spent the next few days returning to the caravan. I think Sam let us off easy since we were beaten up pretty badly and needed to recuperate, but I watched him intently as he described the return trip.

Jeanie poked my leg and then leaned toward me. Whispering, she almost giggled, "Careful, you're supposed to pay attention to the DM, not eye fuck him."

I looked around at her in shock only to see her grinning at me. "I have to admit, he'd be sort of cute if he wasn't so geeky," she added.

"As you approach the caravan, you see something clearly isn't right, with smoke coming from odd places. And with this being a good stopping point, we'll pick up right here next week," said Sam.

It was a little after midnight so everyone packed up quickly and Cronlak and the Thief-- Gerrold and David, I finally learned-- folded the tables while Jeanie and I helped put the chairs on a cart. Most everyone stopped to speak with Sam as they headed out, while I took my time since I had to return his book and his dice.

"See you next week," said Jeanie, looking at me and then giving a nod toward Sam and adding, "and good luck!"

She laughed at my frowned denial and then thanked Sam as she went by him and out the door.

"Sam, thanks for the loan and for a very neat evening," I said as I approached and handed his things to him.

"You're welcome," he said, suddenly looking a bit nervous for the first time since the very start of the evening. "Did you enjoy yourself enough to come back next week?"

"Very much so, and I'm looking forward to it. I'm going to try to pick up some dice and a handbook this week too."

"Good," he said, looking relieved. "I'm glad. And I, ah, l'm, ah, looking forward to it, too. Seeing you next week, I mean."

The poor boy looked so confused I could barely keep from smiling at his discomfort.

*****

I thought about it all week, about the game and how much I looked forward to the next session, to seeing Sam and wondering where he would take us.

On Wednesday, I saw Jeanie on campus after class and we agreed to go to the dining hall for lunch. When we sat down at a table with our trays, she asked, "So what did you think of our Dungeon Master?"

"Umm..." Recalling what she'd said, I continued, "I thought he was pretty cute."

Jeanie stared at me over the top of her glasses. "Cute, eh? Not that he was a good DM? Not that he did a great job controlling the game and the party. Not that he spun an interesting or possibly even immersive tale. Not that he made things thrilling. No, just that he was cute!" She clapped her hands together once and laughed. "I love it! Cute!"

I was surprised, realizing when she said it like that that I'd spent a lot of time thinking about the game but, actually, I was thinking of Sam running the game.

No. I was thinking of Sam.

And I was wondering if Sam was thinking of me.

*****

I showed up early for our game session on Friday night, but everyone else seemed to have had the same idea and they were all in full game mode. Everyone took a turn speaking with Sam, filling in info about their character or the situation, whereas I felt like some of my freshman sisters early in the school year, that I was "on the hunt" for a young man I barely knew.

That realization slowed me down a bit, and I enjoyed the game session as we tracked down and defeated the Zatandan raiders that had attacked our caravan and kidnapped the caravan master. We rescued him, but a raider we hadn't seen fatally shot him with an arrow and the ticking of Sam's wind-up timer on the front table represented the time we had to ask a few questions as the master lay dying since I was out of healing spells. We were able to get a hint on how to escape from the desert and the name of a contact in Haslan-Grah who might help us save the Qubillians--

The damn alarm went off in the middle of Sam's rasping. "He expires in front of you before he can finish the thought."

We discussed what the dead master had meant and developed a plan to help us rescue the remaining survivors and get out of the desert. Sam smiled at me when I caught his eye after that, and I noticed him look at me a few more times over the next hour as we led everyone across the desert to safety.

During a bathroom break, Jeanie practically dragged me off to the bathroom and asked in a hurried whisper, "Listen, Cici, are you and Sam getting it on at the next level already? I saw the way you were looking at each other. Again."

"What? There's nothing between us," I said, worried about the implication of what that might do to our game if Sam and I were to get together for a date.

Jeanie shook her head. "Well, if there's not, that's a shame because there sure ought to be based on what I'm seeing."

*****

We made progress for the rest of the evening, locating the city of Haslan-Grah and getting a lead on our supposed contact. I got a five-minute session alone with Sam as I moved up to the front table to visit the temple of The Sister and the Bishopess Shabelle. I received another of Sam's 3x5 cards with order business from that, along with a clue that might help us locate the contact we sought to help the Qubillians.

The next two gaming sessions were similar, with our party making progress and our members earning experience and gaining a level or two. In each session, I watched Sam closely, dreaming of what might be but knowing what likely never would happen since he was just too shy.

Jeanie and I had continued eating lunch together each Wednesday and we'd become good friends as a result, but that week in late September after four gaming sessions, I sat on the wall outside the dining hall waiting for her in vain. I checked my watch and realized if I didn't go in soon I'd have to skip lunch before my afternoon lab. As I started toward the door, I heard someone call my name.

No, not someone. Sam.

"Hi, Cici. I ran into Jeanie a little while ago and she asked me to apologize to you that she couldn't make it today. If you haven't eaten, I'd be honored if, ahem, you'd have lunch with me?"

I suspected that Jeanie had been on her way to meet me when she ran into Sam and decided to help us. Who was I to interfere?

"Sure," I said, probably grinning a lot more than I should have been. "I've only got 30 minutes before I have to head to my lab but I'd be glad to have lunch with you."

We went through the line together, talking as we did, swapping short stories of our backgrounds, that he liked the Salisbury steak and I loved fried chicken while knowing it was bad for me, and agreeing that the Boston Creme pie was actually pretty good but that both of us tended to skip dessert. We talked and talked after being seated, and it was only when I looked at my watch at 12:54 p. m. that I realized I wasn't going to be on time to my lab.

"Sam, I'm late," I said, panicking. "I've gotta run!"

"Go! I'll get your tray."

"Thanks!" I said, grabbing my bookbag, giving him a kiss, and running out toward the lab in the Science Building.

I was probably halfway there, running the entire way, when it struck me.

I'd just kissed Sam.

On the lips!

In front of everyone in the main campus dining hall!

*****

I considered calling Trudi that evening, but I didn't since it was a long-distance call and since I didn't know her schedule.

I also considered calling Jeanie. Again, I didn't, but with her it was because I was so embarrassed. She'd helped me and then I'd done something dumb.

Really dumb.

Finally, I considered calling Sam. That was a no-go, too, but this was real embarrassment. I hadn't planned to kiss him, though I had been wondering what it would be like. Now I'd done it but it was so fast and so unplanned I wasn't sure if it had even been a good kiss, whether he'd enjoyed it, as brief as it was, or if he was going to tell me to stay the hell away from him.

In the end, I tried to work on my lab results and finish the report so I could turn it in, but that didn't go well either and I sent Trudi an email message instead. She was probably in the library studying or maybe off doing something naughty with yet another new boyfriend, and my fretting while waiting for her reply didn't get me anywhere.

Thursday was as tough as Wednesday night had been with the added issue of me feeling exhausted after getting such little sleep from my worrying. The best part of the day was my three-hour shift at the radio station, where I helped a number of students and recorded nine new PSAs. I figured I'd fall asleep straight away later that evening, but, like Wednesday night, I tossed and turned and struggled to drift off until exhaustion finally took me well after Carolyn finally staggered back to our room.

If I avoided flunking out, I'd definitely be finding a new roommate for my sophomore year.

Friday was a long day as I worried about what Sam would say that evening. If he was as embarrassed as I suspected, he might even ask me to leave the game; I hoped not since I was enjoying the tale he was spinning, but I suspected I'd miss him more than I would the game itself.

Game time arrived and I entered our usual room in the student center. Everyone else was already there and set up and Sam was busy, hiding behind his screen for a change. It was uncomfortably quiet and even Jeanie had her lips zipped for a change when I joined her at our table.

"Let's get started," said Sam, "picking up right where we left off last week."

We were at a critical point, about to spring a surprise attack on the Zatandan mage and his henchmen in a compound about two days outside of the city of Haslan-Grah. We jumped right in as Sam said, and it reminded me of the new Tom Cruise movie that had come out back in May. What we were attempting was impossible, just like the premise of the movie, but some of our guys had coordinated during the week and we found ourselves working like a well-oiled machine getting into the stronghold.

At least it seemed like that until the wheels fell off and we were in the fight for our lives, throwing repeated saving throws as more than one enemy spellcaster tried to kill us. We took the little ones down, with me even bonking one with my mace, but that wasn't my primary role. I'd reached 4th level so I had several spells and had collected a few healing scrolls and potions making me think we might be in pretty good shape, but it was soon obvious that we overmatched and my spells were quickly exhausted as I struggled to keep all of our people in the fight. Then my scrolls were gone and I gave Cronlak the Dwarf, our best fighter, my last potion.

Having already been tired from getting too little sleep and having my adrenaline suddenly run out, I slumped back in my chair, staring at Sam. I'd been looking in his direction and seeing him all evening, but this was the first time I really studied him.

He was in his element, managing the battlefield, controlling our enemies, and making sure our actions were interpreted correctly to affect the outcome of the engagement. He was a Dungeon Master and he excelled at it. That I'd kissed him didn't matter a bit to him, I realized; in fact, I wasn't sure if he'd noticed at all.

"Cronlak's roll of a natural 20 plus his strength bonus results in a critical hit on the Zatandan captain, killing him instantly," said Sam. "This opens a clear path to the enemy mage who appears to currently be in the process of casting another spell. Aragan's turn."

I turned to look at Tommy, the guy who played Aragan the Ranger. I didn't know why anyone would want to play a cheap, misspelled imitation of the original ranger in the Lord of the Rings. I'd read the book in high school and had even seen the animated movie with my dad, so I knew how cheap Tommy's imitation was.

"Seeing the captain fall, Aragan switches the aim of his bow to the Zatandan mage," said Tommy. "He has his last +2 arrow of flames nocked and he rolls--"

Tommy rolled the dice and his mouth opened. "A twenty!" he exclaimed, not believing it. Rolling a cube, he added, "Base damage is SIX!"

The room erupted in cheers as Sam added up the damage and then multiplied it for the critical hit. He nodded to Tommy, who hadn't hit much of anything all night, before tipping the figurine representing the mage over like he was a king being checkmated on the board.

"The three remaining guards see their leader fall and they flee. However, before anyone starts chasing them, if anyone wants to do that, I'm calling a ten-minute break," said Sam, closing his folder and getting up to head toward the door where he turned right toward the restrooms.

Considering how long the battle had taken, the rest of us were right behind him.

"So did you have lunch with anyone special this week?" asked Jeanie when we entered the women's room where the guys couldn't hear us.

"Thanks for setting that up," I replied with a smile. "I'm not sure if it's going to go anywhere other than being a nice lunch, but... well, it was a nice lunch."

"I figured Cute Shy Boy might need a little nudge, but I figured once the ball got started rolling, it might keep going. Why do you think it might not go anywhere? Cici?"

I sighed. I didn't want to tell her how I'd screwed up but I still hadn't heard back from Trudi and I needed someone to talk with about it so the story tumbled out.

"Oh my God, Cici! You kissed him! It's a wonder the poor boy's head didn't explode right there," she laughed, teasing me. "Quick, sound the alarm! Call out the national guard!"

She made the Aa-OOH-ga sound as we washed our hands but then smiled and gave me a hug. "Seriously, girl, I'm happy for you. Now, if you really like him, reel him in. I suspect you'll find that he'll be all for that."

Back in the room a moment later, I was surprised to see Sam nod to Jeanie, who went off to congratulate Tommy on his big hit-- or maybe to tease him about misspelling his character's name?

"Hi, Cici. You played quite well tonight," he said. "I was afraid we'd lose some of the party in that fight, but you did a great job doling out healing to keep everyone standing up and even got a good hit of your own."

"Thanks! You made the battle really exciting and I wasn't sure we'd win until we got lucky with the guys getting those critical hits."

"That helped," he whispered, "but the mage and his captain were close to being on their last leg even before those." He seemed to freeze then, the discussion of the game coming so easily but everything else being difficult for him. "I'd like to, ahem, talk to you, later, afterward, if that's okay, like, in private?"

"Yes, please."

"May I... walk you home... after the game?" His pauses were awkward but rather endearing, showing me how hard he was trying, so I nodded in agreement.

"Thanks--"

"Sam! I need to talk to you," called Gerrold, coming our way. I got the impression that Gerrold was as brash and uncouth as the dwarf he played in our game.

Sam gave me a wistful smile, clearly not done, but I nodded and looked down at my notes to let him deal with Gerrold's problem. "Later," whispered Sam, and then he stepped away with Gerrold.

"All's right with the world?" asked Jeanie when she came over a moment later.

"We'll see."

*****

We continued playing for a while after the break, but I was tired and mostly looking forward to walking home with Sam afterwards.

Jeanie nudged me a couple of times to get my mind back on track and she whispered "Good luck!" as we put everything away when the session ended.

Sam was almost finished putting his stuff in his big plastic bin when I approached, but several of the guys were standing around talking to him as if he-- no, we-- had all night.

"Listen, guys, I'm exhausted so let's continue this next week, okay?" he finally told them when he fastened the buckles on the lid. Seeing me, he added, "Cici, can you help me put this table away?"

Having been shooed off and probably afraid he might ask them to sweep the floor or something, the guys left in a hurry. Sam tipped the table, folded the legs, and then smiled at me as I picked up the back end. "Thanks for helping," he told me as we put it away.

"Can I carry your backpack for you?" he asked as we walked back across the room to collect our things.

I laughed. "Thanks, but no. It's a whole lot lighter tonight than when I go to the library. I should be helping you carry your bin."

He laughed at that, pulling up on a handle on back and then twisted. "Wheels, see? It just rolls along. Speaking of which, I was serious earlier. May I walk you to your dorm?"

"I was serious when I answered then, too. Yes."

"Thank you, Cici," he replied as we started walking, down the hall and then out of the building, the wheels on Sam's bin whirring on the concrete sidewalk being the only noise between us. I began to wonder if he was going to say anything at all when suddenly he continued as if two seconds had passed rather than two or three minutes. "And thank you for the kiss. You were so rushed, I wasn't sure if you even realized you'd done it."

I sighed. Sometimes truth hurts but I knew this was one of those times I had to tell the absolute truth.

"Sam, honestly, I did it without thinking and I only realized what I'd done as I was running to class."

"Oh." The hurt in his voice pierced me, making me hurt like I'd just hurt him and I tried to fight off a tear. It didn't work and I felt a tear run down each cheek as we continued walking.

"Sam?" I said, grabbing his hand and stopping him. "I did it without thinking at the time... but I'd been wondering about doing it. Wondering ever since we met at the radio station, in fact. And been wanting to do it for most of that time."

"Oh? Really?"

I wiped my cheek, hoping he wouldn't realize my eyes were watery in the dim lights that lit our path. "Yes, Sam, I've liked you since that first day, and even more since I've gotten to know you a little better. I don't know how much yet, but I really enjoyed our lunch the other day and hoped I didn't mess things up too badly when I hauled off and kissed you."

He laughed at the goofy way I said it, but he took my other hand in his and looked at me with the two of us standing face to face.

"Cici, I've had a crush on you since that first day at the radio station. I listened to the ad you did for me--"

"PSA," I laughed.

"--every time it ran, I think, and I've been listening to the campus station since then, not for the songs and talk shows but for my dream girl doing other ads. I know: PSAs!"

Laughing, we said the last word together and then he pulled me close and slid his arms around me, looking down into my eyes with his usual dark blue eyes looking even darker in the night.

"May I--"

"You'd better," I interrupted, "or you'll make me do it again," and then I molded myself against him as his lips touched mine.

*****

With a few breaks for some more sweet kisses, it took us a while to get to my dorm, and then we had one more long kiss that curled my toes and caused me to tingle in places I didn't know I could tingle.

"Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow?" he asked.

"No, I have to study for a test tomorrow evening," I said, "but I'll be glad to go to dinner with you tonight." I showed him my watch; it showed that it was 12:53 a. m. on Saturday.

"I'll pick you up at 6, okay?"

"See you then. Sleep well, Sam."

Not trusting myself, I gave him one last kiss, a very short one, and then fled down the hall, hearing him call out, "You, too!" behind me.

Carolyn had gone home for the weekend for the first time so I returned to an empty room, allowing me to turn on the light as I got ready for bed. As I did, I was thinking of Sam, of our kisses, and of how the crush I'd had on him for several weeks now had the chance to become something more if our relationship grew and worked out as we both seemed to want.

That made me think, too, of my only previous relationship, with Colin, and how, during that time I'd wanted so badly to get rid of my virginity problem, both because I wanted it and because of what Trudi had faced.

Now, I felt like I'd matured a lot in the almost ten months since Colin broke up with me. Now, I looked forward to the possibility of sex with Sam, but I knew I wouldn't be throwing myself at him just to get rid of a "problem" but to give it to him as a gift if things worked out between us and the circumstances turned out right. Looking at myself in the mirror, that thought made me smile.

Then I had another thought, this one of what was locked in the small valise in my closet. With Carolyn away for the weekend, the door to our room securely locked, and Sam so much on my mind, this was the perfect time for it to come out.

After quickly changing into my nightgown, I pulled the small case down from the top shelf, unlocked it, and found the gift Trudi had given me for Christmas. I'd used it a number of times since then, but not since I'd been at college since I was always concerned about Carolyn coming home at just the wrong time.

No worries about that this time!

Moments later, I was in bed, my knees up and spread wide (yes, with the cover draped over me just in case Carolyn decided to come back to campus at God-knew-what a. m.) as I pushed the button to feel the little rod start to shake, to hear the soft thrum, and to feel it as I placed it against my panties, first on one side, then on the other, and then--

"Ohhhh," I moaned, imagining that it was Sam instead of that little vibrator. Rocking it one way and then the other, it didn't take long to find the optimal spot and not much longer after that before I was floating, ever higher, imagining Sam doing some of the delightful things that Trudi had told me about based on her experiences with her boyfriends.

"Mmmm," I moaned again, getting closer and closer still. "Oh, Sam!" I breathed as I came, squeezing my thighs together after pushing the vibrator away. "Oh, Sammy, my sweet boy."

Moments later, I was asleep, having pleasant dreams.

*****

I usually ran early, utilizing the well-lit sidewalks and paths around campus but I slept late that Saturday morning. Awaking with a smile about the events of the evening before, I decided I needed a good run despite the fact it was after ten.

Since it was our football team's bye week and the forecast was good, a lot of people like Carolyn had gone home for the weekend, so my route was practically deserted as I ran. I pushed pretty hard, using the timer on my watch to clock myself over a few known distances, feeling a sense of accomplishment as well as one of peace.

I was about halfway through my run, approaching the football stadium, when I saw a group of runners coming my way. I'd seen them from a distance several times before and suspected that they were the McNally State cross country team, but this time our paths were parallel as we traveled in opposite directions. Feeling a sense of pride at how far I'd come with my running, I speeded up a bit, hoping they wouldn't think I was that much slower than they were.

As we passed each other at a good clip, I nodded to each in turn and each one nodded back.

Each one, that is, until the fifth one. That's when my eyes widened and Colin Scruggs pulled up, saying, "Cici Vandiver!"

I almost pulled a hamstring stopping so fast. "Colin? Are you here for a cross country--"

He swept me into his arms and then picked me up and spun, twirling me around him like I was a marionette. "Cici, I can't believe it! I've been looking for you but had begun to wonder if you'd decided to go to school somewhere else! What dorm are you in?"

"Colin! What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Coach Driscoll had one of his cross-country guys on scholarship leave, so he was able to arrange it for me to get part of that money and an out-of-state waiver so I could come here. If all goes well, I'll get more next year. Listen, I'm living in the athletic dorm. I've got to catch up with everyone now but call and have them put you through to my room."

I was about to object, but things happened so quickly. He leaned in and kissed me like we'd done so many times when we were a couple, and then he shot off like a bat out of hell chasing his teammates, leaving me standing there with my mouth open.

"Oh, no," I said to myself. "Sam. What if he saw that? What if--"

Taking off running again on my own, I knew what I had to do.

*****

Knowing what you have to do and doing it are sometimes two very different things.

Since neither of us had a car on campus, Sam and I walked to a restaurant next to campus that evening, but Colin's shadow hung heavily over me as we did, affecting me and my time with Sam. He seemed exuberant while I was trying to keep from crying.

"Cici, hold up," he said, swinging around in front of me as we stopped. "Maybe it's because we still don't know each other that well or maybe it's because we've taken things too fast? I don't know but you don't seem like your usual self this evening. Is something wrong?"

I hated it but I had to tell him. "Sam, I, ah, ran into my old boyfriend this morning."

"Oh." His happiness seemed to disappear as he said it.

"We broke up last Christmas when he moved," I explained. "I didn't know it but he's here. I mean attending McNally State on the cross-country team. And he kissed me."

Sam stared into my eyes, but I was so ashamed I was having a hard time meeting his gaze, giving my heels a serious examination instead. Three inchers in a polished black, they made my calves pop while being relatively easy to walk in compared to the taller ones my mom often wore on her dates.

"Cici," said Sam, gently touching my chin to direct my eyes away from the stupid shoes and back toward him. "You said that he kissed you. The question is, did you want him to kiss you?"

"No! But I felt bad that he'd come back into my life after he dumped me and then expected to pick up like nothing had happened," I replied, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"So you didn't break up last Christmas; he broke up with you. And he kissed you but you didn't want him to, right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Then it seems to me that this is his problem rather than yours. Ri-ght?"

I liked Sam so much and wanted so much to say yes, but I had liked Colin a lot, too, and I'd been confused all day. When I hesitated, Sam patted my hand. "Cici, let me take you home so you can sort this out. I like you and want us to give this a shot together, but we both need to be all in on it or we're just wasting our time."

"Sam, you're right. I'm just confused. And I think I need some time."

"You've got it, Cici, but you need to know, I am all in for you, at least while we sort out what there is between us and I'm hoping that it's as special as I feel like it is. I'm going to be here for you if you want to be all in for me.

He gave me a polite hug when we got back to my dorm, but didn't try to kiss me or prolong things, just turning to go. As he started to open the door to walk out of the lobby, he turned back toward me and said, "Cici, please, let me know when you make up your mind and don't leave me hanging."

He was out the door then and I fled upstairs to my room, crying the whole way.

*****

A good cry can sometimes bring a sense of clarity.

In this case, it wasn't long before my tears stopped and things, so murky just minutes earlier, became at least a little clearer to me.

I slipped into my jeans and my running shoes and went down to catch the shuttle bus that circles campus. Half an hour later, I was standing in front of a door and I rapped my knuckles against it. Three times I rapped and three times I waited until I finally accepted that he wasn't home. I was making my way across the lobby when I saw him enter with three other guys.

"Cici! You came!" exclaimed Colin, rushing forward to sweep me into his arms for the second time of the day.

This time, though, I was ready and my hand shot out to land on his chest as I stiff-armed him to keep him away. It wasn't that stiff, really, but he took the hint and stopped.

"Colin, you made it clear when you moved last Christmas that you didn't want anything else to do with me. Now, just because you're here, you think none of that matters and we can just pick up where we left off? Not a chance, buck-o. You keep your hands and lips and everything else off me or I swear I'll kick you where the sun don't shine. Got it?"

I planted my hands on my hips and hoped that my little soliloquy sounded as gruff and tough as I thought.

"Well, shit, Cici, I thought--"

Keep the advantage, Cici! Don't let him steal the initiative from you, I told myself. Sam had taught me how important having the initiative was in the game, so I interrupted.

"No you didn't, Colin. You assumed. You assumed everything could be the same as before, and you surprised me so much I almost fell for it before I came to my senses. Unfortunately, I may have lost a really good, really sweet man as a result."

Yes, as tough as I was trying to be, I was careful not to say "cute."

"God I hope not," I continued, "but even if I did lose him, that doesn't mean I'll just come crawling back to you. You have to win a girl's heart, Colin, not just put your paws all over it and try to take it."

I'd completely forgotten his friends, but they started snickering over to the side, making me wonder if they were real friends at all. Colin had been a nice guy when we were together and I didn't want anything bad for him, but I also didn't want to be with him anymore either. I gave them a frown and then turned back to Colin.

"Colin, please don't call me," I said before running out.

His "friends" were laughing, either at me or at Colin, so all I spat "Assholes!" at them as I ran by. Outside, I kept running, not wanting to risk running into them again or be seen crying.

*****

About thirty-five minutes and another shuttle ride later, I was standing in front of another door in another dormitory. This time, I rapped once and the door opened for me to see Sam, dressed only in a pair of athletic shorts, standing in front of me with his mouth hanging open.

"Cici, what are you doing here?"

"You said for me not to leave you hanging; I got here as quick as I could."

"Seriously?"

I nodded. "Sam, I'd really like to be your girlfriend if you'll still have me."

He frowned at me for a moment, making my heart race as I realized how badly I'd messed things up, but then his stern visage dissolved and he smiled. "I'm hoping to have you forever, girl."

This time, when Sam pulled me into his arms, I welcomed it, throwing my arms around him and feeling his surprisingly well-defined chest and abs. Then I lost track of them when he kissed me, making it as if my world was spinning around me.

When we broke off a few moments later, I whispered, "If we're going to keep doing this, we should probably go in your room."

"I was just getting ready for bed," he replied, an eyebrow arching.

"Hmm. I wasn't planning to sleep with you tonight, but I guess I could," I whispered back.

Sam had been surprisingly sure of himself all evening, but this set him back. "Ahem, Cici, I'm not sure I'm ready for that." Looking down, he whispered, "I'm a, ah, virgin."

I grinned as I tilted his face up to meet my gaze. "Good. Me too. If everything works out, we'll take care of that together when the time comes. For now, I meant sleep together, like with your arm around me to keep me from falling out of bed as we dream sweet dreams. Not that other sleep together."

He was chuckling at my poor attempt at innuendo. "The bed's a little narrow, but I'm willing to try if you are."

Minutes later, I was wearing only my panties and one of Sam's t-shirts that was way too large for me. Spooned up tight against him, I pulled his arm around and nestled it against me, happier than I'd been in quite some time.

Within minutes I was asleep.

*****

I awoke with my mouth dry and a hand cupping my breast, my nipple set between two fingers. I've actually awoken like that before, but, in the past, it was my hand holding me. This time, it was Sam's.

I smiled at the thought and that little nub hardened a bit in response, so I slid my hand up to catch his and pressed it even tighter against me. It was a nice feeling, the gap between his fingers closing and pressing down, thrilling me even more.

Sam shifted in the bed, just a little, and that's when I became aware of something even bigger and harder behind me. I moved a little too, feeling his rod against my ass, just inches from where I hoped it might make its home someday. My eyes closed once more with me feeling peaceful so I meeped a little moan of contentment.

Maybe it was a little too loud, or maybe it was my shifting in the bed, but Sam suddenly went rigid in the bed, stretching, as he gave a manly groan and squeezed my tit even harder for about a second.

Then he woke up.

"Oh, God! Cici, I'm so sorry!" he gulped as he realized what he was doing, jerking his hand away. "I didn't mean--"

"Shush, silly," I laughed, putting him right back where he'd been and right where I wanted him, where I think he was meant to be. "Shush and just hold me and don't let go."

We lay there in bed for a while, holding each other like that, before our bladders finally got the best of us. Minutes later, feeling refreshed and having dealt with our morning breath (yes, with me sharing Sam's toothbrush), we snuggled some more and practiced our kissing until two growling stomachs convinced us that they needed attention, too, and we finally got up for good.

*****

Colin ignored my request and found my number somewhere-- which told me he wasn't looking very hard for me before, if he'd really been looking at all-- and he left a couple of apology messages with Carolyn on Sunday evening while I was at the library studying for my exam. She shut him down on the third call and left the phone off the hook for a while after that.

While I would have liked to have been Colin's friend for old time's sake, I didn't think he'd settle for that so I never called him back. He apparently got the hint and didn't bother me again.

Trudi came through with an email on Sunday night. She'd gone on what she called "a fucking road trip" with her current boyfriend while on Fall Break and just gotten back. She gave me a list of all the places they'd visited (and done it, along with the position used for most, though even today I'm still not sure what a few of them were), but she also gave me some good advice in response to the laments in my original message as well as advice to avoid having sex in dark broom closets.

Fortunately, Sam and I had already figured out most of my issues and were in a good place by the time Trudi wrote back, so I replied with a thank you and a shorter update and told her I hoped to see her at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Dad had come up to see me for lunch on a couple of Saturdays earlier in the semester, but Mom didn't seem to like that idea, one, that Dad had thought of it, and, two, that she might have to spend time with college kids, so she'd been wailing about me coming home for a weekend visit. Sam's parents wanted one too, so we took a pause on the D&D campaign and went home for the weekend, each of us missing the other.

"You're mighty quiet," said my mom as she drove us home.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Studies? Or boys?"

I gave her a frown which I swear caused the corner of her lip to turn up as she continued to, mostly, concentrate on the highway.

"Boy, okay? Young man."

"A nice young man?"

"Yeah, really nice. Tall and lanky like Lyle Lovett, but a lot cuter."

It was her turn to frown. "Are you sure? I never saw what Julia Roberts saw in that guy."

"A whole lot cuter."

I left it at that, but, as I stared out the side window, trying not to look at her or let her see the look on my face, I was thinking of all the other adjectives I could have added short of telling her how much I liked him.

Somehow, I think she guessed. In a quiet voice I barely heard above the engine and the noise of the tires on the pavement, she asked, "Cici, have you slept with him?"

I was always honest with my parents, though occasionally I walked away to avoid answering, but that was impossible at 70 miles per hour on the interstate.

"Yeah. A couple of times now."

"Oh, God! Please tell me you used protection."

She was being a lot nosier than I would have preferred. "No."

"Cici! Goddammit, girl! I thought I taught you better than that. You could get pregnant. You could get VD! Hell, sweetheart, you could get fucking AIDS!"

If it hadn't been for the 70 miles an hour and the fact that a crash would have killed us, I'd probably have let her suffer for a couple more minutes, but I was starting to get worried. When Mom starts cussing when my dad's not involved, I always worry.

"Mom, chill, please. We slept together, like overnight in the same bed, not 'sleep together' like insert tab Penis in slot Vagina and pump until there's a bun in the oven."

She turned bright red at that, but said, "Oh, thank God!"

"But we'll probably do it eventually."

She almost ran off the road. Fortunately, there was a rest stop about a mile ahead, so she gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were practically white until after the car was parked.

"Cici, I don't want you having--"

"Mom, I'm going to the bathroom, and then I'm going to walk over to one of those picnic tables if you want to continue this. We're not doing it while you're driving because I'd prefer for us not to die today."

I got out and she followed, meeting me at the picnic table a few minutes later with a Diet Coke in each hand. She handed me one and then slumped down next to me.

"Cici, I'm sorry. I know you're growing up, but I'm still your mom and I still worry about you."

"Mom, you, and Dad, tried to raise me right. You have to trust me sometimes."

"I do, sweetie, but having sex is a whole new ballgame. I want to make sure--"

"No one can be sure of anything, Mom. Listen, I'm nineteen years old and I'm still a virgin. Honestly, that's something that most girls my age can't--"

Remembering Trudi's admonishment and recommendation, I added, "--or won't say. In fact, Trudi's been having sex for a whole year--"

"But, sweetheart, she's a year ahead of you."

"True, she's a year ahead of me, but the truth is she's also only twenty-five minutes older than I am. And, though I love her and consider her my sister, she's a whole lot more reckless than I am. You really ought to thank your lucky stars you ended up with someone careful like me rather than her."

I was chuckling as I finished saying it, but Mom got the point, and over the next half hour, with a little more pushback from me at times, she finally started treating me at least halfway like an adult before giving me a big hug and making me feel like I was a little kid all over again.

*****

Between that visit and Thanksgiving, Sam and I dated and grew closer.

Our D&D sessions became more fun as our characters continued to develop and advance, and our sessions became more thrilling with increased rewards. Sam and I tried to keep our relationship secret, but Jeanie knew from the start and even the guys, as dense as some of them seemed to be, picked up on it a lot quicker than I expected. By mid-November, everyone in our group knew.

And no one cared. They were happy for us, though Jeanie was a bit more inquisitive than I would have preferred.

"So how's our cute DM in bed?" she whispered one evening when we were in the restroom.

"I don't know. We haven't done anything," I gulped.

"Seriously? You couldn't prove it by me. I thought it early on but two have been fucking each other with your eyes for weeks."

I laughed, remembering the first time she'd said that. "Jeanie, you're going to have to explain how that eye-fucking thing works to me one of these days. Seriously, though, we're really good but we're still feeling each other out."

She laughed at first, but her expression turned to a frown when I said the last part.

"Listen, girl, I don't know what kind of advice your friend Trudi has been giving you, but I'm telling you, if you feel each other up, not out, things will usually happen a whole lot quicker."

She winked at me, telling me she was teasing and that she was happy for us.

*****

Sam's parents planned to go see his grandparents in Connecticut over Thanksgiving. They wanted to buy him a plane ticket, too, but he refused, citing the school schedule and flight difficulties, so I invited him home with me.

"You'll stay here and he can stay with your dad," said Mom when I called to check with her.

"Then I guess I'll stay with Dad, too," I said rather nonchalantly. "Dad likes Sam."

With a little more pressure and maybe a few more prods to her jealous side, Mom agreed to let both of us stay with her and came to pick us up for the ride home. While usually shy by nature, Sam met Mom and initially seemed to impress her. He even agreed to sit in the front seat with her on the way home ("to avoid making her feel like a chauffeur," she claimed, but actually to keep him away from me, I think), but he sat at an angle and was looking back at me to keep me engaged in the conversation even as she was grilling him while she drove.

My grandparents liked him when they came over the next afternoon, too. Grandma kept calling him Thomas (which I gave her a pass on, since his last name was Thomason), and he helped her when she couldn't get her medicine bottle open, so she thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. Grandpa liked him, too, but it was Mom I was worried about.

She spoke politely with Sam, but she seemed to spend a lot more time than usual just watching and listening, even when he was in the kitchen helping me with some of the Thanksgiving prep work. Mom always seemed out of sorts if her tongue wasn't wagging, but she was unusually quiet and observant this time; making it worse, she seemed to avoid eye contact with me a few times, and that made me worry.

Did she see something she didn't like in Sam? Something I'd missed?

Thanksgiving dinner was nice with the five of us around the table. I was thankful for that, but thankful most of all that Sam was with us, with me, and everyone treated him like he was part of the family. Grandma even got Sam's name correct before dinner was over. Sam helped clear the table over Mom's initial objection, and I think I saw her smile, just a little, at that.

Maybe?

Sam and I took a walk after dinner-- too much turkey and dressing and the rest-- and I was glad that I'd brought my running shoes since I felt like I'd need them the following morning, even if I didn't already want to run. We held hands and walked in silence for a good while before he said, "Cici, I like your mom and your grandparents. They're really nice, and your granddad gave me some good advice on my engineering career."

Grandpa had been some type of mechanical engineer and was nearing retirement.

"I'm glad, Sam. I think they like you, too."

"Good. I hope so. I hope to see them often. In the future, with you, I mean. I, ah..."

Maybe it was presumptuous, guessing what he was trying to say, but I knew exactly what I'd been feeling for a while and what I wanted to say.

No, what I had to say.

Stopping at the street corner, I turned toward him and took his other hand in mine so I could look up into his eyes.

"Sam, I don't know if it makes any sense but I felt there was something about you from the start, from the time we first met. I knew it the first time I came to your D&D game. And I've known it ever since. It's like I missed my saving throw against your charms and I've fallen head over heels in love with you. I do, Sam, I love you."

My heart was fluttering as I looked at him, fearful that he'd laugh at me but hoping that I was reading the signs correctly and he was feeling and thinking the same thing I was.

Sam looked at me for a few moments before a hint of a smile formed at the ends of his lips. As if in slow motion, he nodded. "Cici, I missed my saving throw when I first met you, in the hallway outside the radio station. I believed from the start that you were the girl for me, and I've been in love with you for weeks. I love you, too, Cici."

I'm not sure how long we kissed there by that stop sign, under that streetlamp, but we both felt the love between us.

And luckily, however long it was, no one came out of their house to shoo us away.

*****

Grandma and Grandpa left on Friday morning before noon, and then my mom cornered me.

"Cici, we need to talk," she whispered.

After what had happened between Sam and me the evening before, I was worried that Mom's apparent dislike for Sam was going to become a major problem. She led me into her bedroom and closed and locked the door.

Seeing my expression, she chuckled. "Your father and I got in the habit of doing that when you were little. Knocking and waiting for us to answer or open was an alien idea to you."

She was probably right, but I was more worried about what she was about to say rather than something I might have done ten or fifteen years before. "Mom, what's wrong?"

She took a deep breath and then let out a long sigh. "Cici, I wasn't a model of decorum when I was young--"

Talking like that, she must have practiced this, I knew.

"--with Trudi Ingles being a lot more like me back then than you are now. Between the sex, the booze, and, yes, for a time, the drugs, I caused my parents, and my mother in particular, more fits than you can imagine before I finally met and settled down with your father. He was a good man."

I was looking at her like she was the alien she'd mentioned. Mom had always portrayed herself as the angel with my dad being the bad boy.

"Mom, what are you saying?" I asked, confused.

"Cici, you're very different than I was, and I'm so thankful for that. Be good to your Sam, if you truly love him like I suspect, because I can see the love he has for you written all over his face. If he's the one you want, love him and always be faithful to him, and, please, don't mess things up like I did with your father."

Sam must have wondered where we'd been when we came out of Mom's bedroom and downstairs a good bit later. We'd dried our tears and touched up our makeup, so he didn't realize anything that had happened between us.

Mom said, "There are several big sales I want to catch this afternoon, so I'm heading out. I want to take you two to dinner tonight, but there are plenty of leftovers in the fridge to hold you over until then if you're interested. You guys be good; I'll be home around 5."

She took her purse and left, leaving Sam standing there in the kitchen with a confused look on his face as I tried not to smile.

"Cici, did what I think just happened really happen?"

"If you think my mom recognized the fact that we're adults-- young adults, but adults-- and that we're really in love, then, yeah, it really happened."

"Umm, I'm not sure that's exactly--"

Now I was smiling. "If you think she grew up a little today, too, finally admitting that, as much as she's always tried to present herself to me as Saint Joan, she never really was, then you're right about that too. She's as imperfect as the rest of us, and, to my complete surprise, she admitted that my dad isn't quite the evil bastard she's made him out to be for the past few years."

Sam was shaking his head. "No, that's, ah, not what I was thinking either."

He was so cute, standing there with his hands gripping the back of the kitchen chair, steadying himself, so I moved close, diverting his attention and his hands from that chair to focus on me. We each wrapped our arms around the other, pressing ourselves together.

"Sammy? What did you think just happened?"

"Sweetie, I thought she was giving us permission... to have sex."

I shook my head. "No, she'd never do that. She'd much prefer that we didn't. Until we're married, anyway."

Sam looked surprised. Maybe even disappointed.

"No, seeing us so much in love and looking back at her own past, checkered as she now admits rather than being lily white like she'd always implied, she's recognized the probability, maybe even the inevitability, of that. No, she didn't give us permission to do it; she gave us a deadline in case we were going to do it despite what she'd prefer."

Sam smiled, but then his face turned serious as he swept a stray hair out of my eyes.

"Cici, I admit I'd love to make love to you; I dream of you and doing it with you every day, but, I want us to wait until you're completely ready, even if that's not until our wedding night. Even if that's just to keep your mom off your case. Sweetie, I want you but I don't want to push you."

As much as Sam loved me, I already suspected that would be the way he felt.

"I'm so glad you feel that way, Sam, but I'm ready-- what was it? Completely ready?-- now. Take me upstairs and make love to me."

He kissed me, short and sweet, and then swept me up in his arms so fast that I think I squealed. Up the stairs he carried me, with me alternating between giggling and kissing him wherever I could reach. Taking a page from my mom's book, I made sure I locked my bedroom door, and then we stood in front of each other, looking into each other's eyes.

"Cici, I love you, sweetheart, but are you sure you're ready? Are you certain you want to do this?"

"Sam, I've never been more sure about anything," I said as my hands caught the bottom of his t-shirt and started to lift. "Let's get these things off..."

We took our time taking our clothes off, our hands and eyes and, at times, our lips exploring as new "areas" came into view. I thought I'd be shy when he unhooked and then removed my bra, but I was glad to stand upright, proud, for him as he caressed me, first with his eyes, and then with his fingertips.

"Cici, you are so beautiful," he breathed, putting his arms around me and pulling me tight against him, squashing my girls against his chest. While he didn't run like me, he exercised daily including using a tension rowing machine (at least I think that's what it was called), so, as thin as he was, what was there was all muscle. Holding him like that as we stood there kissing, I ran my hands over his back and then, deliberately, I slid my hand down into the back of his pants and squeezed a surprisingly tight ass.

His eyes spread wide for a moment and then he cupped my own and squeezed over my pants. "Mmm, I think we have a few more pieces to go," he said.

"Then I guess you better get a move on, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, I think I should," he replied with a grin.

When we were down to just my panties and his boxers, we paused, Sam's hands linking with mine, as we looked at each other.

"Cici, we can still stop here if you're not positive?"

I grinned as I closed with him once more, pressing my boobies against that fine chest. He had a light coating of hair on it but I wasn't that interested in his chest, his muscles, or his hair at the moment. With both hands, I swept down and, despite the significant impediment up front, they fell down around his ankles.

Taking the hint, my little bikini panties followed suit, slipping down to my feet. He stepped back a step so he could get out of his boxers and I got my first look at his manhood, larger and more powerful than I expected despite the times I'd felt it reflected through his boxers when we slept in bed together or the times when he hadn't been able to fully hide it when we were dressed. With the head circumcised and almost purple, I suspected that it would be quite capable, but I couldn't help but giggle when it bobbed a bit as he kicked his boxers to the side. As hard as it was, it was back in position saluting me in just a moment.

That left me, coming under his scrutiny, standing there with my dark, short-cropped pubes providing only the most minimal cover for my coochie. Sam smiled and whispered about how beautiful I was, encouraging me, so I took one step out of my panties and then picked up the other foot so they dangled on my toe. Being careful and hoping my balance was as good as I thought, I raised my foot, extending those little pink panties to Sam.

Plucking them from my toe, he rubbed their softness against his clean-shaven cheek. "That's the second nicest present I've received today."

"Oh, really? What's the nicest?" I mock-demanded.

"You, Cici. You."

Taking his hand, I pulled him over to the side of my bed and pushed him down into it, with me climbing on top of him, positioning my mound on top of his hardness, but making no move to settle down on it.

"I'll admit I don't know that much about sex, but isn't the guy usually supposed to be on top? And inside you?" he asked.

Trudi had recommended that we do it like this the first time, at least right at first, so it might not hurt so much as my hymen, if there was any left, tore or stretched. We hadn't discussed it, but Sam was grinning, teasing me, I knew, so I teased back. "The guy's usually supposed to be wherever the girl wants him to be."

I arched my eyebrow a bit and he smiled. "You know, I think this is a really good spot."

"I'm glad," I replied before leaning down to kiss him.

Sam's hands were moving over me, exploring, caressing, as we kissed, with each of us whispering our love when we took little breaks to catch our breath. I raised up for a bit and moved forward so he could catch and cup my boobies in his hands, kissing and sucking on my nips, a bit too hard at first before I yelped and had him lighten up. That led me to smile and caused me to issue soft little moans of pleasure for me and encouragement for him.

I was sliding around a bit, grinding on him, while doing all of this, and Sam was definitely smiling too. He cupped my buttocks and gave me a good squeeze a couple of times, and even dipped his finger further down between my legs, spread wide around him, to run it over and then through my lips. I could tell I was wet, ready.

"This is so nice, feeling you touching me, feeling so comfortable with you, in my own bed. Our bed."

Leaning to the side, I reached into the top drawer and got a little tube and a packet I'd placed there deliberately after my morning talk with Mom. Shifting off to Sam's side, I took his penis in my hand for the first time, pumped it, too fast and too hard a couple of times before he put his hand on mine and showed me the right way.

Feeling its firmness and knowing its connection to me, I gave it a little kiss, right on the head. Trudi had given me some good hints I planned to put to good effect after we were more experienced to expand our repertoire, but for now, another kiss and a couple of little licks on the tender spot were enough to get the best moan yet out of my Sam.

Pushing a bit of the jelly out of the tube into my hand, I grasped his dick again, giving it a light coat, and then dressing him in his party hat. Sam was smiling as I did all of this, and grinned again when I added another little squirt of the lubricant to coat the outside of the condom and wiping the last of it through me.

"Are you ready, Sam?"

"God I'm so ready," he laughed.

"Just wanted to be sure," I teased. I threw my leg back over him and settled back, the head of his penis right against the front of my slit. "I'm going to ease down on you, Sam, to try to control how much it hurts, so let me do the work at first, okay? You'll get to take over in a bit."

We laughed as I struggled to get him lined up right-- the "homing system" we seemed to have later wasn't operational at the time-- but then I was easing down on him, feeling him pressed against me as my vagina tried to spread to take him inside. The lube helped at first but then I got to a certain point and progress seemed to stall. I felt the pressure as I pushed, relaxed for a moment, and then, finally, pushed down again.

I felt it give and I was sliding Sam inside as I settled down on him.

Sam felt it, too, and knew what had happened. His arms gripped me, holding me, as he lay perfectly still. "Are you okay, Cici? Do we need to stop?"

"Pause, please, but not stop," I said. It wasn't as bad as Trudi said; maybe her suggestions of lube and position had helped. I leaned in to kiss him and we spent a few moments reconnecting most pleasurably up top while we were connected "down below" for the very first time.

Raising myself up, I positioned my hands on his shoulders as he cupped my boobies. Up a little and down. Up a little. And down.

I wasn't sure if I was going up or down enough, and my rhythm must have been horrible, but Sam was smiling and I felt his movement under me, his motions complimenting mine. His smile, so reassuring, set my mind at ease and we joined in the moment, two lovers loving each other with our bodies for the first time.

Sam's hands slid over me, caressing me, and then I felt the caresses change to strength as he slid them under my buttocks, helping lift me in time for our thrusts. Then we were shifting, letting me down on the bed so I could lift my legs high and wide and Sam in between them to slide back in. He was definitely smiling as he reentered me, feeling my pussy loving him, and smiling even brighter as he took over, pumping me with his body and his love.

As Sam came that first time, his eyes closed tight but his smile remained. Yes, I loved his smile, just as I loved Sam and the wonderful sensation he'd caused in me.

And I was smiling too.

*****

Sam,

If you're reading this file, that most likely means that I've died before you and you've figured out the encryption code for it since only you would know the answers to the clues.

Since I'll update these last few paragraphs every few years as we get older, it also probably means that I died in my late 30s or early 40s-- maybe struck by a speeder while I'm running or, if I'm lucky, dying of a massive endorphin-induced heart attack while you're lighting up my world. We used to always joke that the latter would be the ideal way to go, but in hindsight, I don't think so anymore. Yes, while I'd love to go out with a bang (and with a very satisfied smile on my face while looking up at you), I wouldn't want you feeling guilty that you'd pounded me to death with your love!

I wrote this as a memoir for me, sort of like my personal saving throw from back in the days when we played D&D. Why? You witnessed part of what my grandmother went through with Alzheimer's some years ago and I worry that might happen to me someday. Therefore, this tale, the good and the bad and, yes even some parts you'd probably have preferred not to read but which show you how I eventually became the woman you loved, is for me when I'm old and senile like Grandma, so even when I can't remember anything, I'll hopefully always be able to remind myself of the trials I went through, how we ended up together, and how much you meant to me, back then and always.

This memoir also serves as a reminder of how being born seventeen minutes after midnight and seventeen minutes into the new month-- seventeen minutes that I always hated when I was young-- was actually one of the luckiest events in my life even if those minutes occurred right before I was born. By delaying me a year in school, it allowed me to meet and fall in love with you and to have such a wonderful life. However, in the event that I go first, it's also my final love letter to you, allowing me to tell you in detail how much you affected me right from the start, even when, as a silly young girl, I wasn't sure where I was going or how I might get there.

Yes, Sam, I love you with all my heart and always will until my dying breath, whenever that occurs. You've always been so wonderful to me and so patient, doing so much for me, but I want you to do one last thing for me after I'm gone. I was so lucky to have your love for all our years together, but I don't want you to remain chained to my corpse forever. You're such a good man, my love, and have so much love to give, I don't want you to keep it bottled up inside and make you lonely or maybe even bitter.

Take the time you need when I'm gone, Sam, and then move on; find new love and be happy again. That, my love, is my saving throw for you, I hope, and my final request.

Love always,

Cici

*****

March 2021

His eyes cloudy, Sam finished reading and closed the file before leaning back in his chair, reflecting on what he'd just read for probably the twentieth time since he'd found the files and solved the encryption clues she'd left for it.

More than that, though, he reflected on his wonderful life with Cici.

"I love you, too, sweetheart, and I always will," he whispered to her soul in eternity. "And I thank you for understanding and for the gift you've given me."

He'd been telling himself for over a year that he was ready to "move on" as Cici had said, but, nearly three years after her passing, this time he knew it was true. However, he didn't have time to do anything about it now. He had to get some sleep since he had to be up early the next morning for jury duty.

The End

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End Note:

Thanks for reading and for any feedback in the form of ratings, favorites, follows, or comments. Your input is greatly appreciated.

More of Sam's tale is told in my story titled "After Duty Calls." It begins just days after the end of this one.