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Chapter 9

He found her bashfulness absolutely adorable. It had been a couple days, and more and more regularly they retreated to cuddling together, finding comfort and safety in her fiance's arms, yet she wished for more closeness. Perhaps a big to feel more of those lovely feelings in a time of emotional turmoil and grief and dread.

It was he, as non-suspiciously as he could, who suggested the removal of their final articles of clothing. A slight hesitation, but ultimately she nodded. After a kiss on her forehead, he swung himself out of the bed, standing up be

side it as he turned to face her. She stayed.

“Oh, just me?”

“Um... n-no... I just...”

“Ah, under the sheets?” She nodded in confirmation, followed by one from him in understanding. Repeatedly he tried to keep the thought in mind that it was not sexual, or at least that wasn't the purpose. She needs comfort, but some efforts to have sex with her, as often as that thought came to mind with all the time they spent together nearly naked. She still didn't start moving to remove her underwear, simply watching him as he gripped his own undergarments and slid them down his hairy legs. It was as though he could feel her staring as much as he could visibly see it. Her cheeks had already been a bit flush, yet they reddened even further.

“If I didn't know any better,” he began, getting back to bed, his flaccid junk flopping about slightly, “I'd think you had never seen one of these before.” She blinked a couple times, then swallowed, silence between them all the while. By the time he came to rest before her, his vision steadying on her, it may as well have been written on her face.

“You hadn't...” he muttered, and after a moment she gave a few slow nods, looking away from him. “Did you still want to, em, take it off? You don't have to.”

“N-n-no... I-I...” seeing her so taken off-guard, even though he only did as she request, it made her view her at least in the moment as less of the big, tough, former-spinster suffragette and more of the young and sexually inexperienced woman that he had engaged, as it turns out. “I will.” She reached down, her body moving, and he could sense her scooting her panties off. She then began to try and reach behind herself.

“Would you like me to help with it?” She paused, but nodded, turning around under the sheets to show her back to him. The thing holding it tightly onto her was a knot, and though they had both bathed a couple times since her mother's passing he noted that she never asked him to untie or tie it for her. Surely she couldn't do it herself, and when he had privately inquired Gerard about it he had denied being asked to assist.

“How have you been managing to put it back on after the baths?”

“I washed around it.”

“I see. You could have asked for my help.” He grasped the two ends of soft string, pulling them to undo the knot, and the fabric already began to loosen.

“Everything has been happening so quickly...” he pulled at the fabric on either side of the crisscrossing string, loosening it further. “... I didn't yet feel quite right... about letting a man undo me.”

“Well I'm here for you now.”

“It had always been mother...” his jaw clenched, he swallowed, as he watched her back bear itself to him as she pulled the bra up and over her head. The sheets were lifted up, covering her chest, and she moved to him.

“Sorry.” She shook her head lightly, bringing her body close to his. Her hips twitched back as she felt his manhood directly against her skin, even though she had felt its bulge against her several times already, both soft and hard, but skin-to-skin... still, she brought her hips forth again, against him. “Does it feel strange?”

“Well, it's not... hard... so-”

“No, I meant lying in bed naked with a man.”

“O-oh.”

“It will likely harden again by the way... possibly soon.”

“It's ok, um. Lying in bed naked with my fiance? Well, it's supposed to be quite natural, right?”

“Some find it natural, others prefer to continue wearing underwear as they sleep.” She thought on this for a while. “I suspect it might be more of a modern thing.”

“Perhaps.” She felt 'it' move slightly where it rest against her. A breath was taken in, a bit sharply.

“I can put them on again if you pref-”

“No, it's ok. I... this feels... well, it obviously feels quite... different... to me. Still, I find that... I don't know... it's like the combination of... vulnerability and... exposure? There's also, I mean... well... Declan you're not exactly a 'weak' man, nor a 'short' man by any measure.” It took time for her to find the right words, to sense her thoughts, to figure herself out and speak them articulately. “I kind of... like this.” It moved again against her. She felt her heart speeding up. “I-I... I think I like this... quite a lot.” Her arms were still at her chest, between them, but he hugged her tightly all the same.

“I do too, but a fair warning, it's going to get hard again real soon.”

“I kind of suspected such.”

“Can't exactly blame me; having a beautiful and naked woman in my arms.” He smiled down at her, though she remained at his chest. She had no smile, she had remembered his honesty at the park, telling her that he'd been with a girl. Was she not beautiful? Was she naked? Was what he said indeed true? If so, his regular arousal whenever she was in his arms held more meaning. If not, well, how could it possibly be that he still merely wished to bed her and leave? There were more efficient ways of achieving that, surely, than engagement and expensive gifts. She did her best to put the thought out of her mind, and it wasn't particularly difficult as she felt the pressure with which his manhood pressed against her, increase. He hugged her more tightly, stroking her smooth, bare back.

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