"So, your mother is an alcoholic?" I asked. "Yeah," Steven said, "and a nearly hopeless case, at that. She's tried to stop lots of times, but she never does. It's always the same. One day I'll leave for school, and she'll be fine. Sober for weeks maybe. Then I'll come home around four, after school, and I see the same old thing: half a bottle of booze on the coffee table, and she's passed out drunk on the couch, reeking. I can't move her, so I have to wait till my Dad gets home. He doesn't even bother to make excuses anymore. He knows that I know... and so on." "Sorry to hear that, Steven," I say, gazing into his eyes, "really, I am. My Mom passed away about two years ago. She never drank. I just found out last night that I don't really like the taste. I still come to be with my friends, though. You think like, we could be friends, maybe?" Steven looked a bit taken back. He wasn't responding at first. I knew he was actually thinking it over. Finally, he said, "Uh, yeah, sure, why not?" 

That was all I needed. I began telling him all about myself. And he was actually listening to me. At times he'd ask me to explain things further. Or from time to time he'd throw in some kind of comment. His questions and comments were truly relevant to what I was talking about. He was listening! Sometimes I could make him laugh. This was so different than having a girlfriend. Steven was such a cute boy, and he was interested in me. Occasionally I'd glance up to have a look around. Brianna had long since left the table. She had gathered up the girls in my group and brought them to the bar. They stood off by themselves watching me with my new boyfriend. They were watching Steven and me, probably making wild predictions. I didn't know for sure exactly what they were talking about. After a while I quit looking around anymore. I focused on Steven. I tried to listen carefully to him, as he had with me. We started sharing semi-private ideas, and then delved more and more deeply into each other's thoughts. After about an hour or so Steven told me he was a virgin. "Well, yeah, me too," I said to him. I decided it was time to do something before the opportunity passed. Maybe I'd regret it, but I was sure I'd regret it more if I never tried. So I asked him flat out: "you know something, it seems awfully crowded and busy in here. What you say we go up to my room, where it's quiet and we can be alone?" He agreed, and we left the bar, together, hand in hand. 

I showed him the way up to my room and handed him the card key. I always fumbled with it, and I wanted to make sure of his confidence, so I gave it to him. With a quick swipe the lock clicked and we found ourselves inside. Steven put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door and closed it. He took my hand and guided me to my bed. As soon as we sat down we began to kiss. The experience felt just wonderful. With virtually no expertise of my own, I judged him to be a gentle, slow kisser. He didn't press hard or move around a lot as I had seen lovers portrayed in the movies. Gradually we began to explore a bit with our tongues. I could taste his mouth and feel his tongue inside. I had enough presence of mind to think he would be feeling the same things. We continued after the first kiss for a second and third. I enjoyed seeing that he initiated kissing me; he must be enjoying it at least as much as I. And I was very much enjoying it. On the third kiss his hands went along my shoulders and arms. He held my hands and squeezed them. This just had to be a sign that he wanted more; I felt that I wanted to provide. I removed my blouse. Underneath I was wearing a very light camisole with a simple lace trim. His eyes opened wide. Suddenly I felt a tiny bit uneasy, remembering how Brianna had teased me endlessly about having small breasts. I looked down and was going to frown and try to explain that there wasn't much to see. Before a word came out Steven told me I was beautiful. I had to check and make sure things hadn't changed somehow. I felt extremely feminine.  He said wonderful words and gave me compliments. He touched me again and again. He didn't have to ask me to take off the camisole. I wanted to do it. He stopped for just a moment to ask me if it was OK. "Yes, yes, Steven, I've been saving them for you!" My answer seemed foolish later, remembering what had happened. We had only been aware of each other's existence for two hours at most. I suppose I must have just felt that way at the time; "I had been saving them..." I also thought later it was a bit strange that he seemed to think that he was taking from me. It was as if he was unaware of the pleasure I enjoyed. 

Steven's turn came next. I asked him if he'd like to try. I wasn't sure if this had embarrassed him, or if he was unsure. He was hesitating, and I felt so eager. He asked, "to try what?" "I'd like to touch you; aren't you excited, aroused…?" I didn't have to ask again. I asked him, "What does it feel like?" He simply replied that it felt great.   He moaned a bit and tried to sit upright. But his "ecstasy," as he described it to me afterwards, could not be stopped. He lay back, breathing deeply. 

Just then I checked the clock; and sure enough it was time to bolt off to the French final. Some of my friends in the class were a bit nervous beforehand. I waltzed through the exam, and finished almost forty five minutes early. For me the semester was finally over. Not much had come of the "sorority" Lizzi and I had planned together. But that was something we had just set on a back burner. We had become so enamored of each other, and tied down with course work, there was little time for anything serious to add to our schedules. We had become lovers during the semester. The "honeymoon" never really ended. I looked at the bare trees now, which had been so full of color in the late summer when we met. I had been ever so careful to approach Lizzi, and all the while she had been quite ready for my advances. The leaves stirred at my feet now, blowing down the pathway back towards our shared apartment just off campus. I looked up and saw the light on in my window. Lizzi must have returned and she'd be waiting for me. Would she have prepared something for us to eat, or perhaps ordered something in? I stopped my walking and just stood still. How differently the entire semester could have turned out… I might have ended up living with a man!

Lizzi was brushing her hair when I returned. She had showered again and was in a blue kimono. She turned to greet me as I entered; the front of the kimono opened revealing her beautiful body underneath. The apartment was completely cleaned and the table was set with some fruit. She had purchased for herself a sweet Liebfraumilch. She got up to greet me saying, "Let's eat!" Pears and grapes melted in my mouth. I got up to get some tea from the kitchen. "No, you sit…" Lizzi ordered, "… tonight I do the work." She gulped a full glass of wine, went to the kitchen and promptly returned with my tea already made. "The shower is ready as well," she informed me, "but there's no rush, so we can talk." "So what was your first time like, then?" Lizzi asked me. I recounted for her my meeting with Steven. "And it was eventually consummated?" she asked. "Yes, the night before I left Paris." "And did you two love each other?" "Only in that teenage way…" I said, drifting off. "Still think about it much?" "No, not much, not anymore..." "But the dream, Kiko, you should've heard it all…" I waited for a while, and finally just smiled while nodding yes. "He may have been the best male I've ever known; Lizzi, he was innocent."

~~~

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