They walked slowly and silently back to the campus; Jeremy seemed lost in thought, while Jean was trying not to think. As they passed through the main gate, Jeremy spoke again.

“Trace, your place or mine? Lord, I’ve always wanted the chance to say that.”

“Yours. It’s closer, and—”

“And?”

“And, I cannot be certain what Terrie and BJ are doing right now, but I know I don’t want to see it. It might scar me for life.”

“I don’t understand—Oh!”

“I see you wouldn’t mind seeing it, but not tonight, I hope.”

“Yeah. By the way, ‘Let’s give it a try?’ How unromantic.”

“Look, I’m nervous enough as it is. Please don’t make me feel any worse.”

“Sorry.” They walked a bit more, and then Jeremy asked Jean, “Could you explain to me the mathematics behind buckyballs?”

“Well, I’ll try to tell you what I know about algebraic top ology, but I will make some mistakes. A buckyball is shaped like a sphere, right?”

“Right. Sixty carbon atoms in a ball.”

“A sphere.”

“There’s a difference?”

They discussed math and chemistry for the remainder of their walk to Jeremy’s dorm room. “Jeremy, thank you. I feel a lot better now.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad it worked. I’m going to wash up.”



Hand-in-hand, the two walked to Jeremy’s room. While Jeremy fumbled for the keys, his roommate Johnny opened the door.

“Johnny. I thought you were—”

“I just came to get some clothes. See you kids tomorrow.”

“Sh!”

“Remember, mushrooms and peppers.”

“Johnny, embarrass me all you want, but if you do anything to hurt Jean, I will get you. I learned a trick in chemistry class: you mix iodine and ammonia, and let the precipitate dry, for example.”

“Jean, are you really sure you want to know this guy? I’d better go.” Johnny walked off, and they entered the room.

“Jeremy, what was that about?”

“Dorm custom. If you have a guest, and you displace your roommate, you owe him a pizza from Ricardo’s. I hope you’re not offended.”

“No, no. It’s funny. Just don’t act so smug.”

“I am not smug. I just try to be prepared. ‘That’s the Boy Scout’s marching song.’”

“Please, Jeremy. don’t sing ‘The Elements.’ I hear Tom Lehrer songs enough.”

“It’s a deal. Now, where were we?”

“You were going to seduce me.”

“I thought we were seducing each other.”

“I think we’re talking too much.”

“Sorry. I’m nervous too. I feel as though I were Mister Magoo leading Ray Charles through a maze.”

“Good. We are on nearly equal terms, then.”

“Let me get the candles.” Jeremy lit a pair of candles, put some Coltrane on the stereo, turned off the lights, and returned to her and the couch.

“’My Favorite Things’? Strange choice.”

“Hush.” Jeremy began to kiss her, first one cheek softly, then the other, then sweeping over her lips, then tickling the tip of her nose. Jean didn’t move; she hardly even breathed. She wanted to remember every sensation he gave her. His kisses were like brush strokes, painting her with fire. He kissed her eyelids, he nibbled on her earlobe, and then he pulled back.

“Jean, is something wrong?” Jean realized that she needed to give Jeremy some feedback, but she didn’t trust herself to say anything. She took his hands in hers, released the breath she had held, and leaned forward to kiss him. She then drifted downward and nipped at his chin. He leaned to the side, and traced a path down to her neck. Jean’s breath seemed to catch, and she heard nothing, not even the CD, but her own heart pounding. He continued to lick and nibble her, slowly dragging his tongue along her face, leaving spirals of excitement behind. She gripped his hands more tightly to show her approval; she still did not trust herself to speak.

He broke off his kiss, and pulled back to stare at her. Jean thought: “I hope he knows I love this.” He pulled back further, and looked worried. Jean responded by moving toward him, and saying just one word: “More.” He nodded, and they kissed again. First their kisses were gentle, then their tongues touched, and then he pulled back a bit and just seemed to wait.

Jeremy looked nervous again, and Jean thought to herself, “What is he waiting for?” Then, she looked at him again. He was staring at her face, searching it for a hint of expression. She herself had acted the same way at job and college interviews. “He’s waiting for me,” she realized. Jean loosed Jeremy’s left hand, hugged him close, and kissed him again, playfully licking the inside of his lip, then tracing the contours of his teeth, and then pulling her tongue back and trying to suck his into her mouth. Jeremy’s eyes seemed to shine in the candlelight as he stroked her hair with his free hand.

They kissed like that while the CD advanced to “Summertime,” and then to “But Not For Me.” Jean mumbled, “Thanks.” Jeremy replied, “I knew you’d like that.” Jeremy let his hand slide down her back toward her waist, and Jean felt herself shiver. He pulled upward on her shirt, and the material came loose from her jeans. He started to caress the small of her back, and Jean hummed her approval.

Jean released Jeremy’s other hand and pressed her body against his; Jeremy encircled her waist and moved his hands in widening circles, slowly exposing more of her skin. Jean felt much like she had as a small child on Christmas morning. Her parents would not allow her to open her presents until after church, and she would wait throughout the church service with fevered anticipation. She knew there would be a wonderful surprise at the end, and she felt secure in her parents’ love. She certainly didn’t feel secure now, however.

Jean needed to do something; no longer could she silently accept his caresses. She fumbled at the buttons of his shirt, but her nerves rendered her clumsy; she could not undo them. Jeremy enclosed her hands in his and stilled them, and she painstakingly tried again. Jeremy went back to her waist, and then started to unbutton her blouse; Jean’s instincts took over, and she stiffened beneath his touch.

“Too fast?” “Too fast.” Jeremy leaned back and let Jean finish with his shirt.

He shrugged out of it, and Jean just leaned back and stared.

“Jeremy, let me look at you a minute; I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. You look, well, cute. What’s that?”

“Appendectomy scar. And that mark on my left arm is a chemical burn.”

Jean shifted so that they were side by side, and Jeremy placed his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him and asked, “What should I do now?”

“You should relax. We have no deadlines; we needn’t hurry. Use your judgment; I think it’s very good. You told me once that you had to be playful to be a good mathematician. I think the same applies to this.”

“It’s easier to say such things than to do them.” She tried, however. She reached toward him and traced his scar line, and then she moved her hands up toward his chest. She brushed his nipples quite lightly, and was fascinated to see them stiffen. She continued by stroking him in the same manner he had just stroked her, with spirals that sometimes tickled him, and with scratching motions that gave him goose bumps. He made no attempt to interrupt her.

She stopped after a few minutes and snuggled against him, and he again reached for her buttons. This time, her instincts were working for her; she didn’t flinch. He slipped off her shirt and faced her squarely, his eyes alternating between her face and her chest.

“You look like you’ve never seen a bra before.”

“Well, not yours. I’ve been wanting to see it for a while now.”

“My bra, or what it holds?”

“Both, actually. May I?”

She nodded, and he reached for her and lightly pinched her nipples through the material. She shivered, and he reached around her to unsnap it. This time, he was too clumsy to get the job done, and she pulled back.

“You’re nervous too. I thought you were supposed to reassure me.”

“If I weren’t nervous, I’d be taking you for granted. Would you want me then?”

She answered him by reaching behind her and undoing her bra. He reached for her, but she stood up and danced away into his bedroom. He followed.

Jeremy had grabbed one of the candle sticks on his way into the bedroom, and he used it to light a pair of candles he had set on his dresser earlier. Then, he turned toward her on the bed, and he stopped short.

Jean had already made herself as comfortable as she could—the bed was dorm-standard, not comfortable but sturdy. Jean felt that way herself. She lay supine on the bed, with her head and upper back supported by a large pillow. As Jeremy turned toward her, she saw his body come to attention, stock-still and erect. He still had his pants on, but she could tell that he was locally erect too.

She saw how her body affected him; Jeremy’s breathing was shallow and fast, he looked sweaty, and he started to tremble. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. Jean felt embarrassed for him; this was the first time she had seen the power she could have over a man, and that power made her uneasy.

Jeremy soon snapped out of his paralysis and moved onto the bed. Jean started to turn away from him, but Jeremy reached her first and leaned toward her for a kiss. She started to say something, but Jeremy kissed her objections away. Despite her training, she responded again, and leaned forward into his kiss.

After trading a few kisses, Jeremy drifted down her body to her right breast.

“Ohhhh.” He started to lick a helical path around her breast, stopping before the areola. “Oh, ohh, ohhh.” She had trouble breathing. Now, she was shaky. He reached toward the other breast and started to tickle its bottom a little. When she started to giggle, he started to lick and blow on her nipple. Now, she started to shiver.

Jean was still troubled. Despite the pleasure she felt, she still had the old inhibitions. Something was different, though; her inhibitions seemed to be coming purely from within. She forced the thoughts back down; she didn’t want to deal with them now.

He continued licking and nibbling for a few minutes, and then he switched sides.