Harriet?’
‘No, never,’ he protested sincerely. ‘I promised I wouldn’t, and I haven’t. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. She doesn’t interest me. I thought you understood that.’
She lifted her face to his and her kiss was an apology for making the suggestion. ‘I just have to be sure, Algie. You must’ve guessed by now that I can be a bit jealous … Besides,’ she added wistfully, ‘I was away so long …’
‘You don’t have to be jealous, Marigold,’ he said with evident concern for her feelings. ‘There’s nothing to be jealous about. I told you I’d wait for you. And I have. I’ll always wait for you. I promise.’
She smiled, her anxiety dispelled. ‘Kiss me again, Algie. Long and gentle this time. A butterfly kiss. I always think of your gentle kisses as “butterfly kisses”.’
He obliged her, lingering, tenderly savouring her sweet lips.
‘I’ve been dying to come down here with you again, Algie.’
‘Honest?’
‘Honest.’ She snuggled up to him contentedly, her head resting on his shoulder, relishing his arms around her.
A certain rigidity inside his trousers, unruly as ever, was insisting on more adequate accommodation, and he shifted his position to relieve the discomfort. He thrust his knee tentatively between hers, and she allowed it. Her long skirt was a frustrating barrier between them, but still he could feel the tantalising warmth of her thighs caressing his. He kissed her again, more ardently this time. His tongue probed her mouth while he held her small backside and pressed himself against her.
‘I want you, Marigold,’ he sighed heavily. ‘I want to go all the way with you.’
‘So it seems, by the feel of that thing against me belly,’ she replied, feigning disregard, even though she enjoyed the sensation and her heart was pounding like a drum because of it.
‘I suppose you don’t want to?’
‘Why do we have to talk about it, Algie? It spoils it all, talking about it.’
‘Would it spoil it if I were to tell you I love you?’ he asked.
‘It’s easy to say as much just to get your way,’ she said challengingly. ‘You have to mean it.’
‘I do mean it. I missed you like hell while you was away. I was thinking about you all the time.’ She melted in his arms at this admission, and he hugged her. ‘If only I’d known where to find you …’ He lifted her chin and planted another kiss on her lips. ‘I’d have been there, believe me. Like a shot from a gun.’
‘I think I’ll always love you, you know, Algie,’ she said dreamily. ‘I thought about it a lot while we was up and down the cut.’
He took that as an invitation to undo the buttons of her blouse.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, feigning surprise, but with no indignation.
‘Undoing your buttons.’
‘What for?’
‘’Cause I want to feel your titties.’
‘Well, you won’t feel them proper through my chemise … Let me loosen it first.’ She undid the buttons at the side of her skirt, slackening it, then pulled her chemise up above her waist. ‘There …’
His breathing came heavier. He placed his hand on her bare stomach and the smoothness and tautness of her skin astonished him. Gently, he explored higher and reached one cool, silky breast. It was the first time he had ever felt a girl’s breast like this, and he gave it an experimental squeeze. To his amazement it returned immediately to its original delightful contours as soon as he relaxed his gentle grip. To make sure it was not a unique phenomenon, he repeated the experiment with the other.
‘They’re so smooth,’ he whispered, his voice a tight thread of emotion. ‘They’re ever so nice to feel, even though they ain’t that big.’
‘I think they’re plenty big enough, Algie,’ she replied, smiling to herself at his candidness. Then, feeling the need to be rewarded with a show of affection for allowing him unfettered access to her breasts, said, ‘Kiss me, Algie. Another butterfly kiss.’
He was entirely content to kiss her again, and did so more passionately. While he was working her lips he wondered what it might be like kissing these delightful breasts, and pulled up her chemise a little further before nuzzling each in turn. To his astonishment, her small pink nipples hardened in response to his moist caresses.
‘Oh, that’s ever so nice, Algie,’ Marigold sighed.
He was encouraged and, deeming it his bounden duty to venture south in the interests of seeking even greater mutual pleasure, took a handful of skirt and pulled the hem up above her knees. When his fingers ventured through the elasticated leg hole of her long drawers and found the soft, warm flesh of her thighs there, he thought his chest would burst with the intensifying pounding of his heart.
He returned to her mouth, plying her lips with gentle little bites and kisses, while he located the slit in her drawers and thereby gained access to the warm mound of hair secreted within.
‘Oh, Algie …’ Her whimper was a mix of anxious resignation and pleasant expectation, but not discouragement. Certainly not discouragement.
He caressed the soft, moist place between her legs with the greatest care and devotion. This was a moment he had only ever tried to imagine before; to be allowed such extreme liberties by a girl he really loved and admired. But the reality far exceeded the capability of his imagination. He was actually touching, feeling a girl … there … in this, the most mystical, the most privileged, the most private of places. It was a landmark in his life. It would be a landmark in the life of any young man – the first such extraordinary intimacy … Surely, it could only lead to that ultimate familiarity which he had always feared was going to elude him. Without doubt, this was a red letter day. He found it difficult to control his trembling at the electrifying prospect.
To add to his private elation, he encountered no resistance from Marigold, only complicity. After all her teasing last time they met, she seemed as anxious as him after all to fulfil what must have since become a mutual wish.
She in turn, was convinced of Algie’s love. With this wondrous shared experience of total commitment to draw on, further doubts would not plague her next time they were apart.
Algie reluctantly removed his hand from the split in her drawers. But it was necessary in order to progress to the next stage and unfasten his fly. His trapped and aching manhood sprung free, like a jack-in-the-box released, while she virtuously avoided sight of it. Breathing heavily again, and feeling as nervous as he’d ever felt in his life, he rolled on top of her and guided himself back to the place he had just vacated. She parted her legs a little wider in anticipation, closing her eyes as she felt him press against her for entry.
‘Oh, Algie …’ The girlish tremor in her voice betrayed her nervousness, but she resigned herself to the inevitable outcome, welcoming it.
After an abortive series of gentle pushes, he confessed with frustrated inadequacy, ‘I can’t get him in, Marigold.’
‘You
