Chapter 2

Tanner had asked me once how I'd know what to do with it on my marriage night. I told him I'd talk to people with more experience. He asked who I would talk to and I said I could talk to my parents, plus Tiffany, Donna, and Yvonne were all sexually experienced and happy to give me a word of advice.

Mom gave me "the talk" when I was fourteen. She'd been an unwed mother and didn't want me making the same mistakes she did. My step-father married her despite a three year old child and I loved him like a real father. He'd never been anything other than good and kind to a fatherless waif. After Mom gave me the talk, Dad talked to me as well, but approached the matter in an entirely different manner than Mom did.

"Look, sweetie," Dad said. "Mistakes happen. I will never love you less if you decided you didn't want to wait until marriage, but I would encourage you to be careful and do your utmost not to get pregnant. I know there are a lot of things you want to do with your life, and those things become so much harder if you have a child. I will say this, however. Sex is a lot more meaningful, and even more beautiful, if it's shared with someone you love. I can think of no greater gift you can give a man than wait for your wedding to share yourself with him and him alone. Unless of course, you fall in love with a woman, then I suppose I don't need to have this talk with you."

"Dad!" I complained "now you're just teasing me. You know I'm not into girls."

"You're still young. A lot of things can happen before you're an adult. It's okay, whatever you decide. Your Mom and I will love you no matter what. It's far more important you be the best person you can be rather than who you decide you want to spend your life with." He hugged me then, and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I knew he was right; my parents would always love me.

I sighed. "I would prefer you call it a vagina, because that's what it is, but if you have to call it something else, call it my kitty."

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Would you like to swallow a little mouse?" Tanner said, grabbing his penis in his jeans and holding it, molding his pants over it. It was hard. I'd felt it rubbing against me as we made out.

I laughed. "Your mouse will have to wait another week, just like the rest of you. Where are you and the boys going for your bachelor party?"

"I think Geoff has got a visit to a strip club planned. Lots of booze, I'm sure; and he told me to be sure I had a lot of ones, fives and tens with me."

I kissed him. "Just remember, honey," I said. "You may look all you want, but do not touch. You can wait another week and I'm yours." I waived my hands up and down my body. "Everything you wanted for so long is all yours, and yours alone. I've never shared it with anyone else."

"I can't even have a lap dance?"

"You can have a lap dance," I said. "Just keep your hands to yourself. They don't need to wander for you to have a good time."

"Where are the girls taking you for the bachelorette party?"

"We're going to Tiffany's house," I said. "She's throwing the shindig. I'm sure I'll be getting some gag gifts and there'll be drinking, of course. I haven't heard all of what they have planned, but it will be somewhat raucous, I'm sure, since Tiffany is throwing the party. She's not the wildest of my girlfriends, but she's not far from it."

"I'm a little surprised you have some friends who tread on the wild side. You're so straight laced," Tanner said.

"I try not to judge a book by its cover," I replied. "I'm more concerned with their loyalty, friendship and love than I am in their conduct. If I totally judged book covers, I'd never have dated you. You had a reputation as a lady killer who loved and left them. Heaven knows, every woman of my acquaintance drools over your body. You could have anyone you wanted and I couldn't imagine you wanted me."

"You sell yourself short all the time. You're a tall, classy, beautiful woman, intelligent, funny, self-deprecating. You even know how to cook. The only thing I don't know about you is how compatible we'll be having sex."

"I know love isn't an indicator of sexual compatibility, but I love you a lot Tanner Mason, and if love has anything to do with it, sex will be just fine." I patted his cheek. "You'd better get ready. Your boys will be waiting for you."

We still didn't live together. I didn't trust myself to behave if I had to live with Tanner while waiting to wed. We had picked out a nice apartment together and Tanner moved in without me. I'd given notice on my own small studio apartment and would move in with Tanner after we returned from our honeymoon. He kissed me and left, still sporting a large bulge in his jeans. I wondered if he'd have to masturbate to get rid of it before he went out. He might want to do it a couple times before going to a strip club, or he might get a severe case of blue balls. He told me once being engaged to me was like being married to his hand. He said he had to masturbate all the time just to ensure he didn't get a case of blue balls. I didn't know what he was talking about when he said it and I asked him what he meant.

"Look it up on the web," he replied. "You'll know what kind of problems I have to put up with being engaged to you."

I did look it up. It sounded painful. I apologized after reading about it, but instead of offering to help him, said he could go in the other room and masturbate if he was starting to experience pain. He asked if he could do it in front of me and I told him I might be tempted to help him out and I wanted everything to be new when we finally had sex. He did leave the room a few times afterward and I had no problem with it, not wanting him to be in distress.

He came back into the room once after leaving to take care of himself and said, "I'd like to introduce you to my new girlfriend."

"What new girlfriend?" I asked, shocked.

He stuck out his hand and said, "I'd like to introduce you to Rosy Palms."

It took me several seconds to figure out the joke, then I took his hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, Rosy. Please take care of our boyfriend. I don't want him to suffer." We both laughed and he hugged me. "You sure are a persistent cuss," he said.