PART: 1 of 1

RATING: NC-17 (Explicit M/F sexual relations including voyeurism, exhibition, oral and manual sex; Adult Content)

PAIRING(s): L/L

DISTRIBUTION: To Myself  so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine.  Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"

Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their address and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!

CATEGORY: Romance/Humor/SOL

FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!

SETTING IN TIMELINE: Story begins in 1959 in Milwaukee and ends in 1989.  The girls never move.  Show canon ceases sometime after "Lenny's Crush"

SPOILLER/SUMMARY: "So We Got Married." (Lavenny)

NOTES: Written for Kath's birthday in '07.

***

"It was me who said: I feel as if something has happened and I don't know what it is.   You said....if you don't know I can't possibly know Then I said I guess nobody knows And you hoped and I guessed Everything's going to be all right.  So we got married...And maybe everything's going to be all right after all.  Oh won't you be mine - again and again and again and yet again..."  Zelda Fitzgerald to F. Scott Fitzgerald.

***

It had been not just a good game, but a momentous one.  Sitting in the cab of Lenny's truck on the way home from Braves Stadium, Laverne scrawled near the top of the score sheet, "25-12!  Record-setting win!  Maybe ECC's in '61?" 

She frowned as she looked at her hopeful statement.  Last week, her team had lost 14 to 4, and Barth had been all over the field instead of behind the ball.  Her optimism felt somewhat dashed.  Who knew what would be going on in October?

Glancing sideways at her companion, she realized that question had a lot more resonance than she'd thought.

Lenny was wearing a Braves cap and his Sunday suit, singing the unofficial fight song at the top of his lungs as they merged into rush hour traffic.  He looked like a gigantic goofball.  She should laugh at him and tell him he looked like a dope, but the sound of his voice and the sight of his strong hands gripping the wheel made her heart flutter. 

She should lament the way things had changed between them, because she didn't know exactly just how it had happened.  Since the boys had moved into their Knapp Street, she and Lenny had bumped into one another constantly; in the laundry room or the market.  Soon, it made sense to do chores side-by-side, and that would always lead to him asking her out to the movies.  She gradually found herself asking him out, and worse yet feeling disappointed when he declared himself busy.  After a few weeks of this, the revelation that he was a lot of fun to spend time with still somehow came as a shock.

So she found herself willingly going out on what Shirley lightly called 'outings' with him.  Not dates; she couldn't admit that much to herself, but nights at Arnolds that they went Dutch treat on and trips to the demolition derby or anywhere Shirley didn't feel a hundred percent comfortable.   They had attended this particular game as a duo because Squiggy was stuck covering Biff's night shift in crating and Shirley was working overtime to pay for a weekend up at the Dells with Carmine.

And Laverne had said yes.  Because she loved being with Lenny.

What could it be?  His attentiveness?  The stuff they had in common?  The way he looked in that suit - no, that couldn't be it?

Could it?

She needed to think about this alone - use her head instead of her body for once, before she ended up regretting it.

"Hey!"

She leapt.

"I gotta park the truck out back," Lenny said, apparently for the second time.  "You can get out."  She knew he thought she wanted to.

"It's okay," she admitted.  "Err, I don't got anywhere better to be."

Lenny's brow quirked.  "Oh," he said.  Her words had such an enchanting effect that he nearly banked the truck into a lamp post.

She flinched sideways and against him inadvertently.  Their eyes met, he blushed.

"I gotta get the brakes fixed on this thing," he lied.  Carefully, he backed up and then gingerly parked the thing behind the Knapp Street building.

They sat idle in the shut-off truck for a few minutes, unwilling to meet eyes.  After a long minute, she heard Lenny withdraw his keys from the ignition, then click open the driver's side door.

What made her dive across the seat and throw her arms around his neck?  His lips smothered themselves against her neck, his grip harder than she ever imagined it might be, expressing passion with a barely-smothered groan of surprise.

The last sane thought she had expressed itself lightly; a softly-uttered 'oh' of surprise as he shifted his hold on her and pressed soft lips to hers.  Their first romantic kiss, and she would always remember the press of hot plastic seats against the bare flesh of her upper arms.

***

"So, whattya want to do today?"

"I dunno, what to YOU wanna do today, Marty?"

Lenny tossed a final shovelful of snow over his shoulder and pouted at her.  "Who's Marty?"

Laverne stuck her own red shovel into a mound of snow sitting on the curb.  "Didn't you ever see that movie?"

He stuck out his jaw.  "When I go to the movies, I don't watch the screen."

His girlfriend's snort echoed through the frozen still Knapp Street evening, little clouds of smoke billowing from her mouth like a bull in the stocks.  A snowplow had just come through but life hadn't yet resumed its normal rhythm on their block yet after a daylong snowfall.  They were clearing the mounds of snow away from the wheel ruts of Laverne and Shirley's Pontiac as one last favor to Carmine, who was planning on driving Shirley upstate see her long-lost horse Buttercup the following morning.  Lenny concentrated on heaving the snow out onto the curb fast as he possibly could - when they were done, he and Laverne were going out on a date.

He glanced again at the woman before him, bundled up in her green winter coat and woolen hat.  No one would guess that under her longshoreman-like outfit lay someone who was passionate.  A dopey grin crossed his face as he remembered their past few dates and the warmth of her willing flesh beneath his hand...

All of those warmth-educing thoughts were destroyed by a shovelful of snow down his back.  Yelping, Lenny squirmed  and wroth as he shook the powder from his clothing, glaring at the while at his snickering girlfriend.

"Whatdyadothatfor?" he whined.

She shoveled one last mound of snow onto the pile, then tossed down her shovel and threw her arms around his neck.  "So I could do this!"  Laverne pressed her mouth to his and kissed him fiercely.

A pleasant shudder ran through him as he embraced Laverne's chilly body, the layers of wool and heavy fiber between them adding to the warmth trapped between them.  His mitten-covered hand swept low over her spine, cupping her buttocks and headed up underneath her heavy coat...

"The two of you're going to end up with nasty chest colds.'

Shirley's voice held such great amusement that Lenny's once-pink cheeks turned scarlet - automatically, he and Laverne separated a little and turned back to the girls' curb-level living room window.  Shirley stood on a table, peeping up at them in her pink robe. 

"We're all dressed up, Shirl!  You're the one who's showin' her stuff over here," Laverne whined.  When he and Laverne had finally gotten together, Shirley was the first person to find out, and to his surprise, the easiest person to win over.  Squiggy still didn't 'approve' of his girlfriend.

"I'm just trying to dry out my hair," she fluffed her short bob anxiously.  "Carmine's stopping by and we're going to cuddle up and watch 'Coquette' on the Evening Movie."

"We'll try to stay out past five," Laverne smirked.

"Now, don't do that - the roads are going to be dangerous.  In fact, I don't think you should take a car."

Laverne nearly rolled her eyes, but Lenny appreciated Shirley's mothering.  He liked having someone grown-up in his life that didn't try to push him around.  "All right - we'll hitch."

"Don't do that, either!"

Lenny steered Laverne behind him, then turned and whispered to her, "Pizza Bowl?"

She shook her head - Frank was behaving in a less-forgiving manner than Squiggy.  "Arnolds?"

"That's a three-minute walk."

"How about Moby Dominick’s?"

"A dive bar for a date?"

"Vinny's Pool Hall?"

"I dunno..."

"Becky's Fried Chicken.  That's my final offer, Len."

Becky's was everything a once-il-reputed gin joint-cum family restaurant selling all-you-can-eat ham and fried chicken dinners should be.  Only a couple of blocks away, it's huge neon sign featuring prancing chicken was about as well-known on the East Side as Arnolds was on the West Side.  Lenny's sense-memory went into overdrive as he remembered longing unfulfilled nights by his window smelling the creamy odor of biscuits and the spicy one of chicken cooking and being too poor to go there.  Well, he'd just gotten paid; so had Laverne...

 "Deal.  Shirl, we're done!" Lenny said, taking the snow-covered shovels and putting them in the front seat of his truck.

Shirley eyed their work before adding judiciously, then nodded her head.  "Thank you," she said to them both.  "Laverne, be careful," she took a good look at her best friend's face and emphasized, "be VERY careful."

Lenny took his girlfriend by the hand.  "C'mon!  If we hurry, we'll get there before they toss out all of the heads!"  They rushed away and ran the icy blocks, slipping and laughing the entire time.

There wasn't much of a line at Becky's - most of their business went to their drive-through or the front window take-out service, so without having to wait they got a cozy table near the back of the restaurant and picked their meals off of the Daily Special chalkboard mounted up on the bar - two drum platters, mashed, slaw and corn.  Lenny had their bulky coats and their hats checked, then ordered at the bar, where he got them both tall glasses of Shotz.   He couldn't help but inquire about the heads.

"I'm sorry, the garbage truck just left," the counter girl told him, disgust etched on her features as she filled the two pilsners.

Lenny stood back a little, used to that sort of reaction but still hurt by  it.  "Chicken heads are a real delectomy," Lenny declared.  "You ever sucked the brain out of a fresh-roasted hen?"

The green-faced girl shoved two beers and his receipt at him.  "Your order should be ready in ten minutes," she said, turning away.

Lenny shook his head, taking the beers back to Laverne.  "I missed the heads by five minutes," Lenny declared, handing her a beer. 

"Too bad," Laverne said mildly.  She looked around them as they sipped their beers.  "Isn't this nice?"

"Yeah," Lenny smiled.  "D'you know they shot Big Don Marcelli right over there where the dance floor is?"

Laverne's eyes widened.  "Wow."

Lenny grinned and took her left hand in his right; she smiled against the rim of her glass and squeezed him.  "You having a good time?"

"Uh huh.  But we always have a good time together."

Lenny looked into her eyes.  "You mean that?"

She smiled, a shy look on her ruddy features.  "Can't you tell I'm having fun?"

"I guess.  You ain't shoving me out the door too much anymore," he said, then added reluctantly.  "But you still don't wanna come up to my place."

Her eyes widened.  "Last time I was up there I got jumped on by a green blob!"

Lenny shrugged.  "Irving was just saying hello."

She paled.  "You named the blob?"

"Yeah, but he kinda belongs to Squig.  He said if he could name him I could have Jeffery!"

She shook her head briskly, as if she couldn't believe what he'd just said.  Lenny felt a lick of panic whip up his spine.  He had noticed a juke box out by the dance floor - Becky's attempt to compete with Arnolds.  Abruptly, he put down his glass and said, "wanna dance?"

Her features softened, lips turning up into a smile.  "Nothing fast?"

"Nah.  I asked Carmine to teach me how to boogaloo last week, but..."

"He told us," Laverne said.  "They're gonna cut the cast off his big toe in March."

Lenny nodded his head thoughtfully.  "Least he won't have to spend the summer in it."

"You still wanna dance?  A slow dance?  Cause," she slipped a hand into her back pocket and produced a tiny slice of silver.  "I got a dime."  

Lenny nodded his head, and they both stood, Lenny keeping a hold of her hand as they walked past a slim line of booths and up to the floor. 

They flipped through the listing of records, trying to find the right song.  "When a Man Loves a  Woman?" he suggested, pointing to selection A-2.

Laverne slipped the dime into the coin slot and punched in the numbers, then placed his hand on her waist and leaned her weight into his.

The sensation of her little self pressed to his angular body made Lenny's skin sigh, for the longshoreman who had helped him shovel the walk had turned into a sweet-smelling, soft-skinned woman in a tight white sweater and black slacks.  Her hand drifted up and down his back to the rhythm of the song, and he let his own drift down from her back to her waist - just above her bottom, which he dared not touch.  She pressed herself close to him in response, her head drifting down to rest just beneath his left shoulder, above his speeding heart.  Lenny tucked his chin against the top of her head and inhaled the scent of Swabs Store Brand shampoo and Rio Parfum, flowery moisturizer and low beneath it all the natural scent of her skin.  He felt the high firmness of her holstered breasts against the top of his ribcage, and the teasing brushbrushbrush of her belly on his.  That easy sway of her hips and the memory of other, more private times they'd touched this way made him swell and harden, both frustrating and delighting him.  Laverne pressed herself closer, until there was no space between his groin and her lower abdomen.  He gasped and tried to pull away, but one of her hands shot down to his waist and pressed tightly.

He looked down at her, but she didn't lift her head - the smile he felt against his collarbone was the true response.

She likes this, he realized with a sudden jolt of delight.  She likes my body.  The realization made him blush.  They'd made out plenty of times since they'd started dating.  He'd kept a mental diary recounting each step they made toward the backseat of her car; the first time he'd let her touch her tits through her clothing, the first time he'd managed to get a hand under her shirt and touch her through her bra, the one forbidden Saturday when she'd let him reach under the bra and cup her firm, soft breasts.  He could still feel the sharp impression of her hard nipple against his palm, and that memory made his cock come to full erection.  Lenny's mind seemed to be in a taunting mood as it treated him to visions of his own hand slipping up her strong, slippery thighs and touching her for the first time through her cotton panties.  Their last date replayed itself through his mind - the two of them in the front seat of his truck, kissing wildly, his hand up under her bra and their torsos writhing madly as they slid groin-to-groin on the leathery seats.  That was how he'd made her come for the first time, and he recalled the redness of her cheeks, her lips parted and her green eyes wide as if he'd just told her terrible news,  her thighs clung to his hips tight as she groaned LENNYLENNYLENNY in that nasally voice of hers.  He had responded elementally - by coming hard all over the fly of his last clean pair of boxers.

The combination platter of sensations and memory and the current sensation of her body pressing to him made Lenny want to shove her away before he came right there on the dance floor.   Laverne wouldn't let go; her hand cupped his buttocks and drew him close; by some miracle, his body didn't explode. 

Under the sound of Percy Sledge's desperate begging, the words he'd prayed for came tumbling out.  "I love you," she said abruptly.

The words made him freeze, surprise doing just enough to tamp down his erection.  The words were a miracle in more ways than one.  "Huh?" he responded unsuavely.

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes - and when he was a hundred he knew he'd remember what she looked like with the blue neon on the bar reflecting in their bright green, making the red of her hair glitter brightly in the darkness of the restaurant.  "I love you, Lenny Kosnowski."

He realized she'd said his name just to make sure there were no mistakes.  He crushed her exuberantly against him, showering her face with kisses.  He said the first thing that came to mind.  "Are you sure?"

He felt her laugh, "I wasn't talking to Percy Sledge," she smiled. 

"You really love me?"

She nodded.  "I've been trying to figure out how I feel for the past few weeks.   Being with you all day made me realize that it's true."  He stared down at her, silent.  "Len?" she worried, and he could feel her waiting for something.  What?  He wracked his brain.

"Oh!  I love you, too," she released the breath, rewarding him with a kiss to the neck.  "But you know that.  I've been in love with you forever."  He held onto her as tightly as he could, savoring a moment that was precious, beautiful and private...

"TABLE TEN," boomed the loudspeaker, "YOUR ORDER IS READY, TABLE TEN."

Laverne kissed his neck again.  "That's us."

"I'm not hungry anymore," he pressed himself firmly against her, letting her feel the now-mercifully half-erect heft of him.  "not for food," he teased. 

"Huh?  OH!" she grinned, turning red.  "I thought that was your wallet."

He laughed.  "My wallet?!"

"What?  Most of the guys I dance with have big wallets..." she said, rubbing against him one more time as she danced the line between innocence and experience, leaving Lenny an aroused, beguiled mess.

Neither of them had their minds on the food, but they managed to eat much of the tasty morsels they'd purchased.  Occasionally, their thighs would brush, kneecaps touching - their hands would touch briefly.  Smiles and glances were exchanged - all of it foreplay leading up to a long, hot make out session somewhere on Knapp Street.  The second they finished off the leftover scraps of white meat on their plates, he generously over tipped the bartender and got back their jackets.  Lenny helped her bundle up, goosing her behind and making her leap as they ran out of the restaurant with full bellies and lustful minds.

When they were at the head of Knapp Street, he turned and grabbed her around the waist, spinning her around until she was pressed against her Pontiac.  He faced her and pressed their lips together - she kissed him  back eagerly, tongues darting and tangling around each other.  Her chilled body rubbed the front of his, causing an inferno under his skin.

She pressed her palm to his chest pressing back until he extricated his tongue from her mouth.  "Your place or mine?"  she asked.

He shook his head, "both're too far.  Got your keys?"

She reached into the back pocket of her jeans, produced the keys and unlocked the front door.   She slid back -down across the seat, and he happily slid down over her, closing and locking the door behind him.

The kisses were insistent this time as they wroth to be free of their cumbersome winter jackets and hats; soon those were on the floor of the car.  His mouth stayed on hers as he braced himself over her on his left arm, his right hand groping down over her belly and slipping his hand under her sweater.  She gasped into his mouth, chest arching - his fingers groped around the edges of the bra cup, trying to find a way to release her breasts from their lacy prison.  Laverne's right hand went beneath her and it took him a moment to realize she was fiddling with the clip at its back - the thing abruptly snapped open, and he pulled it down just enough to release both breasts from their confines.  Her hand left her back and grabbed his, encouraging him to massage and squeeze what she'd worked so hard to reveal.

Lenny grunted into her mouth and did what she wanted; her groans joined his as his hands massaged the willing, soft flesh.  Her hands danced over his back, touching his chest through his sweatshirt.  Impulsively, he lowered his head to her chest and took her right nipple into his mouth, laving it through the cloth. 

"More," she muttered, thrashing against his touch.  "I want more..."

He sucked the nipple into his mouth, running his tongue around the blunt tip frantically.  He looked into her eyes and knew it wasn't enough. 

"MORE, LEN!" she almost wept.  Then she grabbed his idling right hand and pushed it between her legs.  Her hips ground against his touch, which started gentle and increased in pressure to the tune of her vocal moaning.  "Like that," her voice shook, "don't stop, don't..."

"I won't," he promised.  She rocked back and forth against his touch, in an agony of frustrated desire.  He was proud of how quickly he could drive her to desire.   He tried to stay detached from her passion to preserve his own, but Laverne was so hotly passionate, so filled with obvious desire, that he was drawn into the storm with her.  The heat seeping through her pants made him want to rip off her clothing and take her right there in the rumble seat.

"Oh!  OH!"  her hips stopped moving, eyes going glassy and blank.  She jerked against his touch, then pressed herself firmly to his moving fingers.  Her lashes fluttered as her body jerked upward against his still-stroking hand, her throat making keening sounds of surrender as he pressed his thumb against her clit.  She rode out her need against his palm, making odd soft sounds in the back of her throat.  Lenny sat back, watching her peak and running his left hand over the bulge in his jeans.  He knew this as powerful experience he would ever have with all of his clothes on.

Her legs drooped apart, relaxed in the aftermath of the moment.  Lenny watched her return to herself, sitting back on his haunches between her thighs, rubbing himself through his jeans.  Her beautiful eyes opened, watching him intensely.  Desire flickered in her eyes - she was as pleased as he was in her ability to drive him to desire.

"Do you got a rubber?"

He stopped all motion.  She didn't really want to do it with him on the street....did she?  He didn't want to cream his jeans again - he didn't have a rubber - he'd die if she touched him - did she really want to 'do it'?

"Len," she reached out for him in the dim car, "do you got a rubber?"

He forced his vocal chords to work. "Agaths?"

He watched her unzip his fly, her touch making him insane and robbing him of the speech necessary to tell her.  She freed him from his jeans and boxers, pushing back the material until every inch of his dick waved out in the cool breeze.  "Oh!" she remarked, either surprised by his size - which he thought wasn't anything special - or the hardness of him.  Then a lascivious smile crossing her face as she looked him in the eye and winked.  Surrounding his overheated flesh with her right hand, she stroked the length of the shaft, up once and down once.

"Oh!"  he moaned desperately.  That one touch brought him close to the edge.

She seemed to understand.  Letting go, she shoved Lenny onto his rear end, scrambled off the seat and took his cock between her lips.

He responded by coming down her throat.

"Oh!!  OH GOD," he cried out, unable to savor the sensation of her welcoming throat as he spasamed hard - the sensation causing such sweet bliss that he thrashed his way out of her grip, unloading one last thread of come into the thin air.

Neither of them moved for minutes, Lenny was wiped out by his exuberance of his orgasm and besides that completely embarrassed by his prematurity.  He tried to think up some sort of excuse but then her laughter filled the Pontiac.

He opened his eyes.  In the light of the streetlamps, he could see Laverne kneeling beside him, her hand holding his wilted cock, her face streaked crosswise with one lone streak of creamy joy.   Lenny stared at her and through his embarrassment tried to look on the bright side - he'd never gotten it into a girl's hair before.

Then he started laughing too, because he'd managed to get it in her eyebrows - she looked like she'd been on the losing end of a fight with a tube of face cream.

"Nice shot," she remarked.  Her causal amusement made him wonder if she'd been through something like this before - the very idea made him jealous.

"I wish it'd been somewhere else," he confessed bluntly.

"I wish it'd been somewhere else, too," she returned. 

"But I don't got any rubbers on me.  They're up in the apartment."

"Was that what you were trying to say?" she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him gently, "I though you was saying 'awgfuhau!'"

"I was saying 'watch out, it's gonna get in your hair'."

Laverne gaped and reached out for her head, moaning as she felt the difference in texture.   She dropped his dick, then groaned and reached back under her sweater, hooking her bra back into place.  "Kleenex?" she asked, and he looked at her dumbfoundedly until she pointed over his shoulder at the small box sitting on the floor between the gearshift and the passenger side seat.  He watched her wipe her face clean.  "Good?" she asked brightly.

"No good.  You're all clean, but I bet you smell like it."

She groaned.  "I didn't think about that.  So I gotta grab a shower," she sighed, reaching up and kissing his lips.

Despite himself, Lenny grinned against her touch.  His girl was a beautiful mess, and that was his fault.  "Hey," he said, "how're you gonna get by Shirl with my stuff in your hair?"

He couldn't wipe the smile off of his face as she realized she'd have to grab a shower at his place.  "You're evil," she proclaimed, giving him another, lingering kiss.

They came apart again, and as she reached down to get their jackets he said, "uh huh.  Still love me?"

She looked into his eyes and said, "I love you, no matter what."

***

The redhead in the mirror watched Laverne with a focused expression.  Quickly she looked down at the black nightgown she'd donned moments ago - did it walk the border of classy and sexy?  Or did it look cheap?  She wished Mister Billy of Hollywood gave out instructions for nights like this! 

"LAVERNE!  I'VE GOTTA GO!"

Her boyfriend's words cut through Laverne's reverie.  "I'm brushing my teeth," she protested, and she had been with the toothpaste and one of the brushes they'd bought in the drug store before she'd gotten caught up in  criticizing herself. 

"BUT I GOTTA PEE!" he protested.

Laverne rolled her eyes.  When Lenny wanted something very badly he could be just like a little boy, a fact that alternated between charming and irritating her.  "Woulja let me finish?"

"IF YOU DON'T LET ME IN THERE, I'M GONNA DO IT OUT THE WINDOW!"

That scary mental picture made her wash her mouth and the sink out with speed.  She opened the bathroom door to find him with dancing back and forth with his legs crossed.  She dashed out of the way and shut the door behind him, then strolled over to the red sheet-covered bed of the Pfister Honeymoon Suite and sat down.

A goofy grin of accomplishment crossed Laverne's face.  She and Lenny had been planning rigorously for this Valentine's Day for months, and to have her dream within touching range proved very satisfying.  Somehow, for once, no detail had been spared - the room had been paid for by tithing fifty cents a week from each of their paychecks every week since October, she had pre-ordered the negligee she wore -  "Lady Victoria" - from Mister Billy's two months before, and they had both made sure that Shirley and Squiggy would be out of town and occupied during the long weekend.

Shirley knew what was going to happen, and it amused her.  "Only the royal family plans intercourse this stringently," she laughed as Laverne poured over the latest Mister Billy catalog.  Laverne had no idea why Shirley was nearly rooting for Laverne to make it with Lenny - it must have something to do with Carmine, and the incredibly goofy grins they kept shooting each other.  Laverne didn't care - the first time they Really Did It she wanted their night to be special.

Laverne heard the toilet flush and her belly tightened in anticipation; water ran in the sink, and when it did so for more than five minutes she realized he was brushing his teeth.

The longer it took him, the more nervous she became.  Occupying her nervous energy, she pulled back the sheets and laid down on the heart-shaped mattress, practicing her come-hither, sloe-eyed stare.  Still, the water ran, and her eyes darted around the room for distraction.

When the rested on her bright red cocktail dress she smirked, recalling how they'd managed to avoid the brewery gossips.  She'd clocked out of her shift early, telling anyone who dared to ask in the break room that she was 'Visting Her Cousin Johnny' in Brooklyn during the weekend and was only able to get a very early flight out.  This was the was the same story she gave everyone but Shirley when she arrived back at Knapp Street, showered and changed, then left with her purse and a small overnight bag.  When she got to the Pfister, she said that she was waiting for 'Mister Komposwski', her 'husband', a tall, skinny blond-haired man with blue eyes.  The blasé desk clerk pointed her to the hotel bar, where she found Lenny slugging down his third bottle of Shotz in anxiety.  No wonder he had to pee.

Suddenly, the water ceased its trickling, and she focused on the door.  Now it was going to happen...she thought.  When it opened he emerged in only a pair of boxer shorts that would be better used as Rosarch tests.  Temporarily blinded by the checker pattern, she looked up into Lenny's eyes and was rewarded by a stare both lustful and tender.

"You like?" she asked.  He bit his palm, earning a lusty chuckle from her.  "Come to bed and bite something else!"

Lenny nearly ran over to the bed, tossing himself between the covers and rolling her over onto her back.  They kissed deeply, hands stroking arms and backs of necks.

Rolling him onto his back, Laverne broke the kiss, running her hand down the sensitive nape of his neck and over his shoulders.  She bent and kissed him under the chin and each cheek, then the long path of his throat, then his collarbone.  Nuzzling against thick but invisible blond chest hair, she inhaled his fragrance - musk, baby powder, sweat.  It made her pulse pound. 

She looked up at him, as he looked down at her.  Curiously, she moved to his left pectoral and licked the tip of his small, light brown nipple.

"Mmm..." he moaned softly, closing his eyes.  She smiled around it, loving how easily he turned on.  She kissed the small semi-firm divide between his pecs, then took the right nipple into her mouth, suckling lightly.

Lenny's moans became frequent, his hands running lightly through her loose hair.  She gave his nipple a parting kiss and began to kiss a trail down his abdomen.

Her hands found the elastic waist of his shorts, pulling them down, letting his erection spring free.  Spring it did - slapping his belly as she pulled them down his ivory legs.  Lenny helped her, kicking his way out of them until she could toss them off the bed.

Laverne rested her head against his belly, her right taking his hard prick in hand.  That cock was gloriously hard for her already, shiny at the tip with a clear gloss.  She nuzzled his soft belly before licking her way across his cock, from base to tip. 

If she didn't love him - all of him - the way she did, Laverne thought to herself that she could have a long-standing love affair with Lenny's cock.  Everything about it was the right size for her - at lest for her throat.  Accepting him into her mouth - then down her throat - Laverne rested her left hand against his pelvic bone, her right holding him by the base of his shaft as she suckled the length of him.  Lenny's moans were passion-drugged, and getting louder all the time. 

Firmer and firmer he became, thicker and harder.  She had a dilemma on her hands - to suck him off or not to suck him off?  She knew from past experience that he could come twice in one night (hopefully no one at Starlite Drive-In knew the same thing) but she didn't want to risk the possibility of him staying soft.  They were going to Do It tonight, even if the world ended.

"Can you hold it?" she asked, kissing the sensitive ridge just below the head of his cock. 

Lenny's mouth worked soundlessly, his blue eyes nearly vacant.

"Len?"

"Your turn," he said breathlessly.

She kissed his cock a temporary goodbye, then sat up and started to slip the straps of her nightgown down.  Lenny sat up behind her, his hands joining hers and slipping the gown over her slowly. 

Laverne groaned at the silky caress of the material on her skin, followed by the rough stroke of his hands down her body.  She had expect him to grab her roughly, to rip it from her and ravish her after three months of build-up, but instead he slipped the gown from her body and wrapped his right arm around her shoulders, lying her against the mattress.

Lenny's eyes kissed her, sliding from her eyes to her toes.  The first time he'd ever seen he completely naked and he was watching her like she was a painting in an art museum.

"Len," she said softly, taking his big hand and lying it between her breasts.

He ran his hand lightly over her body, over erect nipples, hollowed belly, furry pussy.   "Babe, I wanna take my time but looking at you's killing me."

"Don't look - touch."

"I don't wanna touch you.  I wanna be inside you."

"I want that, too."

He looked into her eyes, his palm caressing her hip gently.  "I wanna make you come first," he said.

The idea made her nipples tingle.  "I want your cock," she said harshly.

"Not 'til you come," he said, lowering his head to her breast.

It was a battle Laverne didn't mind losing.  Lenny's soft mouth was made to caress, to kiss, and he seduced her nipples with their delicate touch before taking each into his mouth.  Laverne sighed, the gentleness and the type of stimulation putting her blood on a low simmer, her hands tucked into his blond hair and caressing him so gently.

His lips briefly trailed over her stomach before brushing the burnished curls between her legs.  Her legs spread wide - she wanted him to do that to her so badly that she was willing to sell her soul for it.

Lenny, as always, answered her question with his body.  The soft lips brushed her thighs, then the fuzz on her box.  Then his tongue brushed outward and she was vanquished, utterly.

He played around - teasing her slightly, his blue eyes always on her and devouring her every sigh and moan.  His left hand came into play, spreading the softness of her crinkled outer lips, then stroking along them before his tongue began to rustle the soft folds about.

Laverne was in heaven - a sweet, vibrant, throbbing heaven.  He was so gentle, so good, knowing exactly what and where to touch.  She was going to come...she was...

He slipped a finger to her sheathe, accidentally pressing just the wrong place.

She was in pain!  "Ow!" she cried out, which instantly sent  his hand away from her soft opening.

Lenny shook his head pitifully.  "Toldja you needed to come first."

He bent his head and got back down to business.  Adept at pussy-licking, it took him such a short time to bring her to the edge that she felt like she was hurtling through insanity.  Once he touched her clit - throbbing and tense from loving him with her mouth, from the knowledge of his caring, from the fact that she was going to Do It in the Honeymoon Suite of the Pfister Hotel with a guy she was crazy about - the climax washed over it.  "Yes," she groaned.  "YES!" when he began to flick his tongue against it.  He sucked the bud between his lips and she cried out, grabbing him by the hair and pressing his gasping mouth to her cunt, riding his still-suckling mouth as she came hard.

When it was over a deep sense of sleepy fulfillment washed over her body.  Her hands relaxed on his head, and he came up for air, head bowed.

Her eyes danced toward his erect cock, and imagining his need the fire inside of her was renewed.  "I think I'm really ready now."

He looked up, red-faced, his chin and lips shiny with her release.  "Huh, yeah," he giggled.

"Don't giggle," she smiled, propping herself up on the fancy pillows and spreading her legs wider.  "Make love to me."  The words were romantic - it matched the feelings she had for him, the depth of the desire between them.

Lenny rolled out from between her legs and reached over to the bedside table, picking up an already-prepared rubber and rolling it down his hard cock.  He had been busy while she was in the bathroom, she thought to herself.  Turning back toward her and rolling on top of her prone form, Lenny rose up on his left elbow.

Laverne kept her thighs open, her eyes mated with his.  She considered telling him, but the revelation would make him back out, and she would be damned if she left the Pfister without Doing It.

"Vernie," he said tremulously.  "I got something to ask you."

The closeness of their forms, the closeness of her dream, made the "what?!" she barked out harsher than she wished.

"Be my wife."

She froze and looked into his sweet eyes.  "You don't gotta say that just to make it with me."

He shook his head.  "I ain't saying it just to make it with you, Vernie.   We're in love with each other," he said.  "We got a lot of stuff in common, we like each other a lot...and we got this...and I wanna be with you.  I wanna wake up every morning and do this."

"In the Pfister?" she teased, trying to get rid of the emotional lump in her throat.

He fit his hips between her thighs.   "In our bed.  Or our couch...or maybe the floor..."

The mental picture he painted made her go soft inside.  "Yes, Lenny..." she meant those words in every possible way and raised her hips for him.  "I'm ready for everything," she said, and meant it.

He slipped the head of himself to her open softness.  "Yes?" he asked

"NOW!" she lunged.

Her words and her actions broke though his hesitation.   With that, Lenny thrust his hips forward, sinking himself fully inside of her with one stroke.

"Ow," she remarked as her cherry was shredded, though the sensation wasn't any worse than a pinprick.

Lenny froze inside of her, and after a short hesitation she dared to look into his confused eyes.  "Why didn't you say..."

"You would've stopped," she caressed the back of his neck.  "I don't wanna wait anymore."  She didn't mention the confusing irritation she felt as he rested in her depths. 

Worry and lust warred for control of his features.  "Did I hurt you?"

"It was supposed to hurt, but it doesn't now."

"How does it feel?"

"Weird." Before he could ask, she added, "wouldja stop it with the twenty questions?" she kissed his chin.  "What happens next?"

He pulled his hips back, withdrawing a few inches of himself, then pushing gently back in.  "We move like this," he said.

She lay still and let him teach her the right motions.  Nature and want demanded she move, and so she began to rock her hips in a motion that copied his.  He gasped, she looked up; Lenny had his eyes squeezed shut, his hands on her hips pulling her to the measured movements of his cock.  His grip strengthened, his pull intensified - her hands grabbed his buttocks and began to yank him down into her.

And it all felt - good, not great.  She tried to figure out where the intense excitement she felt when he was playing with her had gone to; looking up into his face she realized he was in ecstasy.  Laverne shifted her rocking hips, thighs hurting from being spread so wide; maybe if she put them around his waist...she crossed her ankles against the small of his back, moving her hands to his shoulders. 

Lenny gasped, his thrusts firmer and deeper.  "Oh God, oh, Laverne," he mumbled, and she could feel him expanding inside of her.  He was within inches of coming while she idled, somewhere between overstuffed soreness and tantalization.  "Oh, Babe!  OH..."  He slammed his mouth down on hers, crying out incoherently into her as he vibrated deep inside of her pussy.  His excitement inspired her, but when his orgasm ended she was stranded.

Lenny moaned, collapsing on her completely, his face nestling against her throat.  "I'm sorry," he said after a long time.

She thought his performance had been more than adequate.  "Why?"

"I wanted to last longer," he gently pulled himself out of her looked down at the blood-dappled rubber, gingerly peeling it off and tying it in a knot before dumping it into the nearby trashcan.  He glanced between her thighs, where she felt vaguely sore and still a little wet.  "Do you hurt?" he worried.  "You're kinda red down there."

He caressed her thighs before delving gently between them, she sighed at the contact.  "A little..."

"Do you need something?  Want me to stop?"

She shook her head.  "I'm just a little sore..." his touch was so gentle that the tension she'd felt at the very end of It returned.  "Do that, Len - I like it."

He stroked her gently with his fingers and reached down for her breast, giving her butterfly kisses and tender looks.  His gentleness drew her gradually to the edge of climax, until he tenderly began to caress her errect clity with his thumb and her desire accelerated.

Laverne gasped.  "Don't stop, don't stop..."  Her entire body went tense as she reached the edge of her pleasure, pleasure-pain racing up the soles of her feet to the tips of her nipples in his mouth and the place where his finger pressed her clit.  "I'm coming!"

"Uh huh," he encouraged dumbly against her breast.  The contractions racked her as they had racked him, leaving her weak and jellied from head to toe.

She heard the mattress shift as he stood up, digging in the grocery bag he had brought a change of clothing in. He brought a bottle of Shotz, two glasses and a small black velvet box to the bed with him.

Lenny poured them both some beer, then while she held the glasses he opened the velvet case, revealing a golden band with an incredibly tiny but beautifully glittering diamond.

Laverne smiled.  "You knew I'd say yes," she said, holding out her left hand.

"I hoped," Lenny shrugged, slipping the ring on.  "So, you really wanna marry a jerk like me?"

She nodded her head.  "'Cause I love you...and we got a lot in common...and you practically won't hit me, or nothing."

The echoes of the past made him laugh, lying down beside her and resting his head on her elbow.  He took one of the glasses from her and said, "to the future and only Missus Leonard Kosnowski, long may she reign!"

They clinked the glasses together and drank heartily, as she secretly hoped she'd get a little better at the game of love before Valentine's weekend was up.

***

Lenny grinned as he locked the door behind him.

Laverne sat down on her grandmother's bed, the picture of innocence in her long white dress and flower- strewn hair.  He sat down beside her and she reached for them.

They wouldn't be missed; the reception was going on full-swing in her grandmother's kitchen, wine flowing and voices caterwauling to old Vic Damone records.  The door locked from the inside, so no one could trespass on their honeymoon night.

They kissed shyly, because the night demanded gentleness and romance.  Hands trekked delicately against smooth young skin, unclasping formal dresses and unbuttoning suit jackets and untying ties.  Under that sweet dress she wore a silk merry widow, and the sight of it made him grab her to his skin in a fierce embrace.

They kicked off the quilt and laid down together, caressing easily as they kissed.   He forced himself to move slowly, stripping the merry widow from her in deliberate motions - leaving the garter belt and those beautiful white stockings on her legs.  His shirt and pants  and underwear followed.

His hands moved more quickly - her sighing driving them over her breasts and between her thighs frantically.  She was wet, her hips bobbing as they followed the caress of his fingers, but he wanted her wetter - he wanted her crazy. 

She brushed her bare breasts frantically against his chest as he climbed between her legs.  He slipped two fingers into her, testing her.  She melted around him, pure liquid.

"Now," she mumbled, "please, now."

How could he resist?

"Lie down like this," he said, placing her on her side then lying down behind her.  He pulled one of her stocking-covered legs over his hip, leaving her open and his right hand free to guide himself home.  They both groaned at the sensation of flesh meeting flesh, without the barrier of rubber between them. 

The position was just an excuse to hug her to him.  Separated over the weeks leading up to the wedding by her old-fashioned family, they'd been  unable to do it since they'd left Milwaukee.  He'd never known a couple of weeks apart could give a guy blue balls!  Then the months of practice they had outweighed the weeks of isolation, molding their bodies together; he lay on his side and plunged into her from behind, raising Goosebumps all over her sides and shoulder.  He rested his forehead against the back of her neck, eyes closed and kissing her there as his hands loosely massaged her breast and drifted back between her thighs.

Laverne moaned, her hand holding his between her thighs, writhing her buttocks against him.  The sweetness of it all was near to murdering Lenny on the spot, but not before he lost his head in the sweet cataclysm to come.

"On top," she said against his arm.  "Get on top..."

He had to pull out of her to accomplish that, but when he did she was ready for him.  It wasn't going to take much to get her going - He felt the tension in her thighs as they wrapped around his hips.  Lenny positioned himself high inside of her, rubbing his pubic bone against her exposed clit.

"Oh, Len, I love you..." she moaned, her hands caressing his buttocks and trying to bring him into her harder and faster.

"I love you too..." To prove that, he ground his hips in a circular motion, stimulating her clit directly and making her thighs quake on his hips.  He swiveled against her again and again, feeling her grow tighter and tighter around him.  She made a desperate whining noise, clawing his back with her nails. 

With confidence born of their time together, he thrust into her once, hard, the pressure against her clit followed by a series of rapid thrusts sending her to heaven.

"LENNY," she yelled, her voice muffled by his lips.  She sounded somewhat surprised.

Laverne clasped him hard as she began to throb, the relief in her voice making him painfully needy.  The first time she'd ever gotten off with him inside of her, and instead of taking the time to savor his victory the throbbing of his dick made Lenny needy.  He watched her light up in the mid-afternoon sunshine pouring into the room, her eyes wide and touched by the magic of it.  Then it was over for her, though she kept writhing her hips against him.  Lenny rushed to catch up with her, frantically thrusting, grabbing her knees and arching her into a tight bow as he fucked her with an almost desperate violence.

Abruptly, the agonized pleasure rushed through him, and his cock expanded and throbbed before shooting off.  He held himself deep within her, rocking his hips up and down in a frantic display of relief.

"Vernie," he whispered, staring down at her.

Lenny knew without a doubt he never wanted to move again as he laid down against her, his hips still jerking involuntarily against her sweetness.  He felt the yielding softness of his new wife's thighs trembling but holding him deep and tight inside of her, tempting him to greediness and a second time.  His flesh twitched, making her moan softly, but as tempting a prospect loving her was he had been drained, his dick only semi-hard.  So they lay peacefully together, everything silent between them but the boisterous party still going on up the hallway.

"To Lenny and Laverne!" Carmine yelled, his voice given an assist by alcohol.  "Salud!"

"SALUD!" the rest of the party yelled over Benny Goodman.

The bride and groom looked at each other and laughed.

***

"Done!" Laverne declared, stepping back from the arrangement of knickknacks on their bedroom shelf. 

Her husband lay limply across their new bed.  "Yeah?"

"Yup.  After two months, the house is finished!" She pirouetted elegantly before flopping down beside him on the bed.  She eyed his long form and a tempting thought rose as her fingers walked down from his chin to his beltline.  "How you wanna celebrate?"

Temptation changed his expression, making it slack and dark.  "Sleep," he blurted out without thinking.

Laverne wasn't quite insulted - they'd been up since six moving furniture into their new West Milwaukee split-level, and for all the help their friends and family had given them they might as well have done it all alone.  "How 'bout a shower?"  she asked, teasing the tip of his cock through the paint-stained jeans he wore with the tips of her nails.

His prick twitched in response.  "Okay, but I dunno how good I'm gonna be," he warned.

She smirked - though she hadn't offered sex explicitly, the past ten years of their lives together had conditioned him to expect it when they showered together.  "I'll do all the work," she said, getting off the bed and pulling him up by his hand. 

They helped each other strip, leaving their clothing to be grouchily collected the following morning.  When they were both naked, he bent over the taps and ran them until the water was warm, giving her a long view of his white and firm rear end.  She pinched what he offered, causing Lenny to yelp and jump up. 

"You got a cute hiney," she shrugged. 

"Now it's all red," he pouted, then grinned.  "Wanna kiss it?"

Her smile was naughty.  "I'd rather kiss something else..."

She reached for him, but he stepped back ward and into the shower.

Laverne followed him, pressing her belly to his and reaching up for a kiss.  They traded tongues and she felt his cock tremble and grow - by the time the kiss ended the tip was halfway to her naval.

She reached behind her for the soap, a green-white bar of Irish Spring, lathering it up until she had a handful of soapy bubbles.  Running her hands over his shivering chest, she tickled his nipples and rubbed his pecs in a circular gesture.

Lenny sighed into her mouth, his arms slipping around her.  Laverne rested her head against his shoulder as her hand tracked lower over his shuddering tummy. 

Because she wanted to draw out his thrills, she skipped touching his semi-erect prick and soaped his white thighs.  They trembled, transmitting the lust he felt for her.  She slithered down onto her knees and looked up into his passion-vacated eyes;  Lenny was watching her, soft moans slipping from his parted lips.

She lathered the bar between her palms, working up a good lather, then her soapy fist surrounded his cock.  Her touch was firm but very careful, and when he began to buck his hips she cupped his balls in her left hand - they were heavy, full, and she teased the firm skin covering them.

Laverne looked up into his eyes and licked her lips before leaning forward and kissing his glans.

He groaned, hips bucking firmly and lodging himself halfway into her mouth.  His aggression didn't shock her - he was blazing, his cock firm and ready as it jabbed into her throat, but a warning would have been nice.  She grabbed him by the base, pulled him out and choked, "watch it!"

"Sorry," he moaned.  "I just need..."

She stood up, her hand still on his hot balls, pressing him against the back of the shower.  "I said I'll take care of you, Len.  Let's go to the bedroom."

He looked disappointed at the change of venue, but Laverne didn't know how long her legs could hold her - and she didn't want to risk them getting hurt in their explorations.  She turned off the water and reached for him.

They hugged, slippery body to slippery body, until she couldn't bear the tease of being close to him without holding him inside.  She took a step back, grabbed a towel from the storage bench, then stepped toward him.  Carefully she dried his body, then handed him a fresh towel and allowed Lenny to rub her own body dry.  After a few minutes of his thorough touch, she masked a laugh - her breasts were going to be drier than anything else on her anatomy.

After she allowed his touch to wander between her legs for an extended amount of time she tapped his fingers, making him let go of the towel.  Silently taking him by the hand she led him back into the bedroom.

Quickly, she maneuvered him over to the large Queen Anne's chair Shirley and Carmine had given them as a housewarming present.  With a finger to the chest, she knocked Lenny onto it and onto his kiester, leaving her standing before him.

His eyes cannibalized her, and she spread her legs out.

"Lemme see your cunny," he mumbled, staring where they met.

"Why?" she asked, mock-innocently, her hand snaking down over erect nipples and down between her legs. 

His hands went down to his lap.  "I wanna know how wet I make you."

Rocking her hips back and forth, Laverne reached down and spread open the delicate outer lips.  She felt exposed and open, like she had lost control, but she knew she was safe and only he could see her. 

She touched herself; yes, she was wet from just his kiss, his touch, from taking his cock into her hands.  Experience was a wonderful thing.  She gathered moisture from her own wellspring, the wetness spreading across her fingers.  She was ready - aching for his hand, his beautiful cock.

"Do you think I'm sexy?" she asked in a strained voice.

He nodded his head.

"Do I look like a gym teacher?"

The mention of her new occupation didn't register.  Lenny's eyes were latched onto her pussy, his right hand rubbing his dick.  "Huh?"

She slipped a finger through the jungle of pink folds, brushing the right side of her clit.  Her knees almost buckled.  "Forget it," she said, letting go of herself and walking on shaking knees to him.  She climbed onto the chair, knees going around his thighs and facing him, his hands going around her waist.  With her right hand she reached down and positioned him, then sank down.

Laverne felt every inch of him burrowing inside of her, their comfortable, exquisite fit making her groan.  When he was rooted inside of her she rested her head on the top of his, eyes closed, hips rocking slightly back and forth and sending waves of sensation through her body.

Lenny groaned and tried to buck up underneath her, but she pushed down on him firmly, stilling movement.  She looked down into his pleading eyes.  "I said," she smiled,  "I'd take care of you."

But it wasn't just him she was taking care of.  Tension had begun to coil below her navel - the motions were for the both of them as she made them and he sat tense beneath her, hands on her buttocks.

She deliberately brushed her breasts against his mouth and it opened, accepting her inside, suckling eagerly on the tip.  All of the sensations met and she began to rock up and down, long, shallow strokes that increased the tension.  The exertion made Laverne sweat, her hands grabbing both arms of the chair and using them for support. 

"I can't take it," he mumbled between the valley of her breasts.  His eyes were half-open, liquidly blue, watching her face as she rode him.

She couldn't take it, either.  Long, slow strokes gave way to visceral, deep pounding - his thighs thudding against her rear in a percussive, musical reaction to their lust.

He came intensely, his hands squeezing her hips and his jaw a muscular knot.  "Oh babe," he said through clenched teeth.  "Baby, baby baby."

His voice and the spasaming of him inside of her tilted the probability of orgasm in her favor - her left hand awkwardly mashing between her thighs to bring herself to the finish.  His hand went down and joined her, pressing her whole mons - her hips trembled and she cried out, milking him dry with her spasms.

Laverne let go of herself, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging.  That clinging gave way to an embrace, gentle touches and murmuring.  Lenny loved to be cuddled and held afterward, pursuing all the physical affection he'd never gotten as a child.  The same sort of loving she'd missed.

To her surprise, she was suddenly held aloft, her legs around his hips and her body in his arms.  "Len!"

"I just remembered something," he said, carrying her to their bathroom.

"What?" she breathed.

He grinned down at her.  "I got all clean, but I didn't get to wash you up."

"I thought you was tired!"

He kissed her neck.  "You're better than coffee, Missus Kosnowski," he told her, carrying her off like a trophy.

***

"Uh uh," Lenny instructed gently.  "Stay in bed, Vernie!"

His wife glared up at him and lay back on the quilt, defeated and legs spread. "I only got a little Indian burn," she complained.

"That ain't no little burn," Lenny declared, eyeing the long gauze bandages marring the insides of her bare olive thighs.  "The girls in your class said you was bleeding!"

"I wasn't bleeding, just raw."

"How did you get rope burns on your legs, Vernie?"

She blushed.  "I challenged Mister Sweregen to rope climbing contest."

Lenny smirked - Laverne and the boys' gym teacher had a friendly rivalry going that belied their middle age. "Did you win?" he asked.

"By three seconds," she bragged, then looked down at her red but unburned palms.  "I had to get down fast, and I didn't wanna hurt my hands."

He remembered her years ago with huge, white-swaddled hands after the accident on the line and shuddered.  It was a dark day when he was more practical than his wife.  Leaning over her, Lenny sat down at the edge of the bed and pressed his lips to her mouth. 

When the separated, her look was promising, dreamy, but he wouldn't take advantage of the emergency.

"Go to sleep," Lenny urged.  She followed his order before he finished it.

Lenny sat beside her for an endless time, watching her slumber.  He kicked off his shoes and socks and undressed until he was in nothing but his boxers; comfortable, he lay carefully down beside her and admired her face.  Laverne didn't quite look forty, her body firm thanks to her occupation and position as coach on the local junior baseball league.  He placed his hand lightly on her flat belly and wondered at the differences between them - he was getting pudgy, his hair was falling out and eyes that once sat in hooded lids were now marked by beds of crows' feet.  Age had settled on her in different ways - lightly cracking her cheeks, furrowing her brow, softening her face.  She was lovely still, but he didn't feel the same about himself.

Gently, he stroked her soft skin.   "Lenny," she mumbled, stirring toward wakefulness.

He smiled playfully.  "It eez not Lenny," he said, rubbing her belly in a slow, sensual touch.  "It eez Pierre, your fraunch lovah."

The muscles under his hand jiggled as he laughed.  "Cut it out," she said.

"Do you not wahnt the hot body of Pierre?" Lenny asked, the extravagant accent rolling off of his tongue.

Her hand reached out and brushed across his chest speculatively.  Her eyes didn't open.  "Maybe."

"Ah, pehrhaps you would like to feel the talauhnted hands of Pierre on yehr bohdy?" Lenny reached over to the beside table and found a small bottle of massage oil.  She rolled over onto her back and he dotted her bare back with the strawberry-scented liquid, making Laverne shiver when it hit her warm skin. 

Lenny rubbed the softness of her back, trying not to get the stuff on her bra or panties.  "Do you lahk that?" he asked, the accent coming out in a bizarre mash of Jersey and French. 

"Uh huh," she mumbled against the pillow.  He could feel how much she did; her skin had relaxed completely beneath his moving hands, muscles softer than they had been when he began. 

He slicked his palms with more oil, then rubbed her shoulders, and after lifting her hair out of the way, the back of her neck.  Laverne purred as he went to her legs, carefully kneading the tense muscle of her thighs and avoiding rubbing their sore inner portion.

She abruptly reached behind her, unclipping her bra and slipping each strap down. He took the silent hint and rubbed the thin strip of flesh he'd neglected on the middle of her back.

He reached down and began to stroke her through her panties - it was strange to touch her upside down.

"Can I turn around, Pierre?" she asked.

He had been lost in the sensation of her flesh sliding against his palms.  "Huh?  Oh, yuhs - let me see your luvlee - boobs."

His awkward turn of phrase made her laugh, but she obediently flipped over onto her back.  Her breasts were soft and a little lower than they'd been in their mutual youth, but no less worthy of his attention.  He teased her nipples to firmness,  then squirted a small puddle onto her belly and rubbed it until she glistened.

The tips of his fingers traced the hem of her panties as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.  He rubbed her through them, until he felt her dampness begin to seep onto his fingers.

"Are you up for this?" he asked, glad just to touch her - willing to go off and pleasure himself if it meant avoiding hurting her.

She nodded her head, then reached down and squirmed her panties off of her legs.  He had free reign to play with the softness then, his mouth returning to her breasts.

It took longer to bring her to arousal, but the journey was powerfully rewarding.  Abruptly she sat up and pushed him onto his back, then took the bottle of oil from his hand.

He felt the cool oil splatter across his chest and then her small hands massaging him, moving with greater haste then he'd displayed.  Her playful hands spent a few moments rubbing his belly, then he felt cold air lick his cock as she tossed his shorts off the bed.

He was semi-soft - it took him longer to get ready, nowadays, too - and when the oil hit his flesh he gasped.

"Relax, Pierre," she teased; he felt cool hands warm against his private flesh and two hands closing around him, stroking gently.  He felt the brush of her breath against the tip of him and he moaned.

Relaxation was impossible.  Lenny groaned, arched to her touch and her flicking tongue

Laverne straddled his thighs, a smile crossing her face.  He slipped inside of her as she laid down on top of him.

She wroth against him, her oil-slicked body rubbing over him from chest to knee.  She lunged up to kiss him, and he took control, driving up into her.

She rubbed herself, watching his face - the sex a playful competition that she wanted to lose first.  Laverne's orgasm announced itself in a low moan, a lashing back of her head as her hips jerked.  Lenny drove into and through her spasms, holding back with deliberate care.  His thrusting only increased the contractions and to their mutual delight she clenched again around him, then tumbled sideways off of him, shaking with the pleasure.

Lenny took control, his body one long slab of muscles as he slammed himself into her roughly.  She squawked - he was afraid he was hurting her but her thighs clenched at him when he tried to withdraw.  Lenny scrambled over and on top of her, mounting her, aroused beyond control.

She cried out, her hands pulling what was left of his hair.  "More, do it more..." her voice broke off on a moan as her thighs jerked against his hips.  This time her spasms set him off, tumbling Lenny into a tension-free world beyond consciousness.

He felt two arms holding him tightly as he melted inside and outside of her.   "Thanks, Pierre."

He kissed her strawberry-flavored shoulder and closed his eyes.  "Thanks, Laverne."

***

He smiled as he locked the door behind him.

Laverne sat down on their bed, patting the spot beside her and watching as he ambled over to sit beside her. 

She caressed the side of his face before they kissed.

They wouldn't be missed; downstairs their anniversary party was in full swing, but food and alcohol had sated their guests.  Now they were thumping all over the floor, dancing and laughing to the music that would cover up all evidence that the old couple upstairs still had a sex life. 

The tasteful pants-suit and jeans landed on the floor, followed by underclothes and tee shirts, shoes and socks.  Bodies were revealed slowly, their fragility unobvious only to the two lovers on the bed. 

Mouths caressed what was revealed, hands and tongues filled empty spaces.  It took a little more effort to bring her to bliss, but the effect was the same to a body that had indulged in youthful, rapid-fire orgasms. 

She turned her attention toward him - to a cock rising steadily, and she secretly enjoyed his lack of a hair-trigger reaction.  His erection was a little softer than in years past, but still hard and serviceable as it plunged into her pussy. 

Her teeth dug into his shoulder and he grunted in response, his hips moving more quickly.

They were close, and when he swayed his hips back and forth she was thirty years in the past, to the first winter night at the Pfister.  Who knew practice would be perfect - and be the makings of a lifetime together?

He watched her with features that were softened but not rotted.  Through the years he'd  become a sweet old man, and she was a pudgy old lady.

She grinned wickedly.  If only they knew...

"Whatcha smiling at?" he teased her.

"You."

I love you, she thought, but couldn't make her throat work.  I love you, too, his body responded, the expression in his eyes but the words far from his lips.

"Ahh, babe," he murmured in her ear, peaking.

"Lenny..." she mumbled kissing his neck, working her hips until the tension peaked, her orgasm beginning when his ended.

And in the aftermath they were alone as Adam and Eve, held safe and loved well.  He kissed her cheek and she kissed his neck.  I'll always love you.  When she was a callow twenty-five, who knew those words would be the truth of her very soul?

Carmine's voice carried up the stairs, aided by alcohol.  "To Lenny and Laverne!  Salud!"

"SALUD!" the crowd echoed.

The husband and wife looked at each other and laughed.

END