Jen's Legacy.

Royce ignored his own nakedness. He’d survive without putting on his still wet shorts and underwear, but his shirt was getting drier and even warm. He picked that up, took her hand and walked with her into the rain to that same rock over which he’d broken up some of those branches. It was just a few feet away from the fire, though it was still in the driving rain and snow, where it whirled around and blew around them as in a mini tornado. They could snuggle together into the sleeping bag when they got back to the shelter and the fire.

He encouraged her to sit upon the edge of that rock as he lifted his jacket from being under her to where she was just sitting on the edge of it and moved her bodily to the front edge of the rock, where she would be able to pee without wetting anything.

She held onto him, balancing this great need she had, and her embarrassment to be closely observed doing that, against her fear of being left alone.

“You won’t leave me out here, will you, Royce?”

“No, my love. I will stay here with you and help you, no matter how long it takes.”

No one would ever believe her if she told them what had happened to her so far since they’d met, or what was happening now. She could scarce believe it herself, or that she’d survived two nights alone with him, both naked as they had been last night, and would be again tonight, and both sharing the same sleeping bag; with last night being especially enlightening, as well as progressive in interesting ways.

She doubted that she could still lay claim to being a virgin after what they had gone part-way to doing, but she didn’t want to be a virgin for even a second longer, though it was all academic anyway. She wanted it gone, along with her hymen if she still had one of those.

They’d gradually progressed from being shy, to slowly becoming partially naked, then comfortably naked in each other’s company, and had then launched into trying to make love, and she had moved all of that forward in a matter of hours. Her. Claire! Shy, reclusive, Claire.

Her entire family would wash their hands of her in disgust if they knew any of this, and just how easily and quickly she had given in to her feelings about him and encouraged him the way she had; how easily she had decided to let him make love to her. 'To fuck her', as those other girls would have described it.

That first time, when he had pulled her closer to him, breathing heavily, losing control of himself, and had ejaculated onto her, rather than into her, had been a total surprise. It all had been surprising, even from the moment she’d met him. She had not known what to expect and still didn't. Men were strangely wonderful, alien beings!

At least he hadn’t gone into her like a raging demon at the first moment of her invitation as she was afraid he might do (listening to those girls again), after her desperate plea to make love to her. Half of her regretted now that he hadn’t decisively pushed into her then, and got all of this uncertainty behind them, while half of her felt relieved. She needed to better understand what had happened to lead up to this point so quickly, and to prepare her mind for that next step.

Royce had been right. There was not much room for privacy out here, but what did she need of privacy with him after last night? And why was she still embarrassed?

Once she was positioned where she needed to be, he draped his shirt over her front and her legs to give her some protection from the weather and to give her some privacy from him. A nagging, inner voice was telling her that a cautious woman should always be very careful of her reputation and virtue, and in how she interacted with any man. There was to be no suggestiveness, no overt temptations, no carelessness with her clothing, no open displays of anything. And she must never, ever let her panties be lost.

Where had that one come from? She didn't have any panties with her to lose.

'Shad up!' She silenced that nagging voice.

And look where she was now! Obviously, those notions of privacy, reputation, and virtue had been shot down in flames, to crash and burn the moment he’d seen her lying back, naked, in that pool, and then had taken another nosedive as he had seen to that rash for her, so delicately and intimately. Everything had fallen to pieces after that, but in such a nice way.

After the way they had begun, anything and everything between them would only become more fiery, and intense with time. As it should.

Her ears were burning, and she knew she was blushing at what he was doing for her.

She’d never be able to relax enough with him so close to her… holding her, touching her, even be able to hear her when she began; smell her.

But he was not going to leave her, thank god! She knew which was most important.

“I can’t… I won’t be able to... with you… holding… touching me.”

He had his hands on her legs and had even reached up under her to gently touch at her vulva to part those hairs from her, and to move her labia apart to let her pee more easily. She would have done it for herself, but that would have meant putting her legs apart, and he would have seen her…. But when had he not been able to see her anytime he really wanted to?

It wasn’t as though she’d not done that for him before; putting her legs apart. Hell, girl, she hadn’t been able to get her legs far enough apart for him when he’d seen to that rash for her, and then when he had… delved into her ('when Adam delved...') , poked at her, albeit just a little way that first time… trying to get into her, though not trying hard enough to do that, or he would have done it. She'd had them wide apart for him then (...'and Eve did span...'), desperate to have him make love to her (...'who, was then, the gentleman?'). John Donne had written something like that.

He’d seen her hesitate to touch herself to make those changes where he could see her do that, so had done it for her.

She should thank him.

She flinched and gasped at his unexpected touch as he checked again, but knew he had not been able to help himself; and would always want to touch her and do things like that for her.

She was still nervous about some things.

He leaned in and kissed her on the nose as he looked into her eyes, smiling at her confusion, then kissed her on her forehead, distracting her further, but causing a small leak to begin, despite her difficulty with all of this.

“Of course you can relax. You will have to. I’m not leaving you alone again, and I can’t pee for you, or I would."

She knew how touching her like that had affected him. It always did.

“Give it time, my love. We have the rest of the evening.”

They didn’t. They couldn’t sit out here for that long in this weather.

“The sooner you can 'go', the sooner we can both get warm and dry.” He stayed still, not moving to disturb her any more than he had, though his mere presence was disturbing enough.

“Try and relax, ignore me. I’m not here.”

But he was here, and he was impossible to ignore with him always ready to shock her in some way! Always in a nice way. But he should stop talking.

“Think of something else. Close your eyes and put yourself in another place, another time, another circumstance. You should have ‘gone’ earlier, but I was not paying attention or I would have suggested it and helped you then, except the weather closed in.”

At those moments, Jen had just moved to one side and peed, after pointing--if she'd even needed to--to let him know what she intended to do, not even going out of his sight, but they’d also grown used to each other long before then, losing all shyness with each other. They had lived together for almost a year before they’d married; made love to each other every time their eyes had met, and one of them nodded or just smiled in that certain way. They might not have bothered getting married except for the gentle pressure of their parents to do so.

Claire had been loath to say anything, even when she’d seen him turn away from her and begin to pee, himself, with his back turned to her, wetting a rock down, splashing, moving himself around like a playful little boy, trying to obliterate any dry patch left on it that he was missing, as he directed his stream all over it in such an interesting way. It seemed fun for him to do that, but he didn’t turn to face her as she’d hoped he would. She wanted to see him doing that. Except, if she'd seen him, he would have been able to see her, and then he would not have been able to pee at all with those changes that always happened when he looked at her and he became aroused again.

After this moment had passed, as it would; another slight hurdle would have gone from between them, though there were really none left to go, except… except one... bloody... big... one!