"So, you want to go to your house for a little while?" Francie asked when they were standing outside the restaurant waiting for their Uber.

"You know no one's home," Chester answered. His dad was doing a series of concerts in England, and his mother was visiting her sister in Pennsylvania. He'd been dying to be alone with Francie all night, but he didn't want her to feel any pressure.

Francie nodded. "I'm not ready to have sex," she said honestly. "But I want to be alone with you, and maybe do a little more than we've done." She squeezed his hand, and he felt a shiver go through him.

Chester swallowed, and nodded. "Whatever you want, always, you know that."

Their Uber pulled up, and Francie texted her dad while Chester got situated.

They held hands as the car made its way uptown through the Friday night traffic, smiling at each other from time to time. Once, Chester lifted her hand to press a kiss between the knuckles, and gave her such a smoldering look that Francie wondered how she didn't just combust.

While they were sitting in traffic, Chester craned his neck to see what was taking so long, tapping his fingers on his leg impatiently. He let out a breath. "This has got to be the longest car trip in history," he complained.

"Agreed," Francie said with a laugh, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"What are you laughing about?" Chester said, lifting his shoulder so her head moved up and down. "I'm, like, in agony over here."

"What? You mean you're--" Francie stopped, unsure how to ask what she wanted to ask.

"Yes," Chester responded, shifting his hips in case she didn't understand what he was trying to say.

"Oh." For some reason, Francie found this hilarious, and burst into fresh laughter. "I'm so sorry, truly, I don't know why I'm laughing--"

"I don't either, it's really not very nice of you," Chester agreed. "It really hurts, I'll have you know."

In the front seat, the Uber driver bopped away to the music, oblivious to the drama that was playing out behind him.

"If I were a more experienced and worldly woman, I'd take care of it for you," Francie went on, trying to quell her giggles, "but I'm not, so I won't even try. I'd probably hurt you if I did."

"How would you try?"

"You know, like with my hand or my mouth or whatever."

The image of Francie in her sexy sundress trying to "take care of it" with her hand or mouth did nothing to alleviate Chester's problem; in fact, it only made things worse, and Chester let out a groan as he looked out the window and tried to wrench his mind to other thoughts.

"Francie, stop, stop, you're not helping at all. In fact, go sit over there, on the other side of the car, where I can't feel you against me or smell you or anything, okay?" Chester begged.

Francie obliged him, moving so she could look out the opposite window, still shaking her head and laughing. "I'm so sorry, but I didn't know that guys could, um, be on such a-- a hair-trigger like that, that's all. That you could get in such a state over pretty much nothing at all, you know?"

"To paraphrase the illustrious Eddie Murphy's character Reggie Hammond from 48 Hours, 'my dick gets hard if the wind blows,' dear Francie, okay?" Chester smiled at her. "Like most teenaged boys, I'd bet, though it's not as bad as when I was younger."

"Really?" Francie responded, fascinated. "Just like that? Isn't it a problem, isn't it embarrassing if it happens, like, in history class or something?"

"Try PE," Chester said dolefully. "Or during your cello solo with the New York Youth Orchestra?"

"No!" Francie commiserated gleefully. "That happened to you? Oh Chester, how awful! What did you do?"

"Tried not to think about it and hoped no one saw." Chester shrugged. "It happens to all of us, it's just something we have to deal with, like wet dreams."

"Wet dreams?" Francie repeated, aghast. "What are those? I mean, I can make a pretty good guess, but please elaborate, I'm dying to hear!"

So Chester explained about the delightful agony of puberty known as wet dreams while Francie listened with interest. They were almost at Chester's house by the time he finished explaining.

"Wow, how funny and terrible," Francie said with another laugh. "I mean, girls have those kinds of dreams, too, but we don't ejaculate, so, you know, there's no mess. So you just wash your sheets and hope your parents don't find out?"

"Pretty much," Chester answered with a shrug. "I never really talked about sex with my parents, except for the whole, 'try not to have sex until you marry a nice Jewish girl, but if you do, use a condom' talk I had with my dad."

"Wow, it was really different at my house," Francie said. "My parents were really open about everything, so I've known for pretty much forever, and they just said not to do anything until you want to so much that not doing it isn't an option.

"Poor Finn," she went on, changing the subject, "having phantom erections and wet dreams to look forward to. I hope mom and dad have prepared him."

They'd arrived at Chester's apartment so they got out and went up in the elevator and anticipation bloomed in Francie's belly, making the butterflies start zooming around again.

Chester turned toward the living room, but Francie grabbed his arm above the elbow and stopped him. "Why don't you show me your room?" she asked quietly. "I've never seen it before."

"Okay," he agreed with a nod, stepping in front of her and leading her down the hall, which was decorated with photographs of Chester's father with lots of famous people, including President Obama and Nelson Mandella.

"There's the other bathroom, if you need it," Chester motioned toward the door, "and here's my room." He flipped on the light, and gestured. "I didn't know you'd be coming, or would've cleaned up," he apologized, picking up a shirt and tossing it in the closet.

"Please, don't apologize, it looks fine," Francie responded, looking around. "What a nice room," she continued. There were bookshelves, weights, a desk, and a practice area for his cello.

Chester turned on the lamp next to the bed and turned off the bright overhead light. Next, he found some music on his phone and plugged it into the dock so the room was filled with it; he adjusted the sound so it was loud enough to hear, but not too loud to talk over. He raised his eyebrows at Francie questioningly and she nodded her approval.

She walked to his bed and plopped down on it, bouncing as she smiled and lay back on it.

"Well, you don't waste any time, do you?" Chester said with a laugh as he set his crutches aside and lay down next to her.

"Oh wow, Chester, I love your bed," Francie declared.

"Really? Why? It's just a bed, isn't it?"

Francie rolled over and crawled up so she could bury her face in the pillows. "It smells like you," she declared in ecstasy.

"Really?" Chester asked again as he maneuvered his way more slowly so he was next to her. "It just smells like a bed to me." He turned his head and took a sniff.

"Imagine being in my bed," Francie instructed. "Imagine being in the place where I slept, every night, in my pajamas, after I'd showered, for years and years and years."

Chester closed his eyes smiled. "Yeah. Wow, that would really be something, wouldn't it? Damn, that would be so hot--"

"So that's what your bed smells like to me," Francie said in a soft voice, tracing Chester's lips with her finger just before she leaned in to kiss him.

Chester moved into the kiss, pulling Francie closer, enveloping her in his arms, holding her closely and firmly so she couldn't move, kissing her hard, like he'd been wanting to do all night. Her lips were soft and pink, and Chester couldn't help but wonder what other parts of her might be soft and pink like that.

He lifted a leg over her and turned them, using his upper body strength, which was considerable, grunting with effort, so that Francie now lay under him, in a way that Francie found so sexy.

"God, Chester, I can't believe how strong you are," she murmured. "I mean, I'm not a light girl, you know? How can you just pick me up like that?"

"Hmm? What?" Chester opened his eyes to look at her. "I've told you before that I need to pack a lot of power up here to make up for not having much leg strength," he explained. "Now please tell me you didn't make me stop kissing you to talk about that?"

"Oh, right, sorry, my bad," Francie apologized. "Please, go back to kissing me some more." She nodded and lifted her mouth to his, opening it in anticipation.

He lifted them so he was sitting in her lap, more or less, so he could slide his hands along her back and feel her lovely skin. He moved his hands around to her front and began unbuttoning the numerous buttons that went down the front of the dress, and Francie arched her back to make it easier for him while they continued to kiss.

"You're so pretty, Francie, sometimes I can't believe you're here with me," Chester sighed into her mouth as he finished with the buttons and slid her dress down to her waist. One of her bra straps also fell, leaving her shoulder illuminated in the lamplight. Chester leaned forward and kissed the beautiful skin which was exposed to him as Francie tilted her head for him.

"Now you, now you," Francie whispered, pulling Chester's shirt off over his head. He was wearing a T-shirt under it, and she quickly pulled that off also, admiring the rippling of his muscles under his white skin as she did so. She leaned in and left a string of kisses across the hard musculature of his chest as he held her head with his eyes closed.

"What an amazing body you have," Francie murmured. "You leave those guys on the swim team in the dust for sure."

"Wait until you see my legs," Chester replied with a little laugh, and Francie just laughed with him, giving him a little push as she did so.

He moved them again, switching so he was under her as she straddled him. He leaned back against the pillows so he could see her, her dress pooled about her hips, her pretty bra pink in the lamplight.

Francie could feel him between her legs, hard and warm, and was glad they'd already said no to sex beforehand and he was okay with it, or she'd be worried about having to say no later, because she knew that, as much fun as she was having, she just wasn't ready.

Chester sat up and kissed her again, putting a hand against her back to hold her against him as the other hand moved to her front to cup her breast. He could feel her nipple like a pebble in the middle of his hand, and just knowing that he was touching her through her bra was making him dizzy.

Chester popped the hooks of her bra with his other hand like had the time before and let it slide forward, leaning back so he could see her.

Her breasts were gorgeous in the lamplight, as beautiful as he remembered, and Francie smiled at him, not shy like last time. She reached forward to grasp his head and pulled it forward, toward her front, and Chester obliged, kissing her breasts, which was obviously what she wanted, and knowing that she wanted him to do that was so hot, it made him want to do it more.

He pushed her back so she was lying down with him on top of her, and he kissed them, moving between the two of them, sucking on the nipples until she was gasping, head thrown back and pressing against the footboard of the bed.

Chester moved down her tummy, pulling her dress off down her legs so he could see her cute pink undies, feeing like he might pass out.

"Francie, can I take these off?"

Francie took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes," she whispered.

Francie was expecting to feel Chester pulling her underwear off next, but instead he lay down next to her.

"And just for clarification, when you said 'no sex,' did you mean intercourse only, or oral as well, because I kind of wanted to try oral tonight, if you were okay with it," he said with a smile. "Just me on you, because I don't know if you're ready for you on me yet, that's your business," he continued.

Francie considered. "You want to go down on me?" she asked.

Chester nodded. "I don't know how good it will be, because I've never done it, but I'd like to try," he clarified.

"Okay," Francie agreed with a smile as she leaned in to kiss him. "Okay."

"Okay," Chester repeated, moving down her body again, this time with more purpose.

His hands trembled as he slid his thumbs under the lace along her hips and slowly pulled them down.

"Wow," was all he could say.

He could see the lips of her sex on either side, and something poking out in between, under her pubic hair, and there was a gleam of wetness, which he assumed was a good thing. He leaned closer for a better look, and now he could smell her, the smell of Francie, an amazing, tangy, briny smell that went straight to his crotch and set up housekeeping there, making him want to do things he'd never wanted to do before.

"Ready?" He put his hands in the grooves where her legs met her hips, spreading them a little, and he could feel resistance, so he waited until he heard her make a sound of assent before he leaned in and licked.

The taste of her washed over his mouth and tongue, and he'd been worried that it would be horrible, and he'd have to pretend he liked it, but it wasn't, and he was so glad.

"Ohhhh my god." Francie tensed up under his hands like she was made of springs, and someone had tightened them.

He waited, and he heard her say, "More," as she moved closer to his mouth.

So he leaned in and licked again, savoring the taste of the girl he loved, her soft saltiness, her warmth and depth. He felt something hard and round against his tongue, and felt her tense and flinch when he touched it. He hoped it was her clitoris and sucked on it a little. She writhed underneath him when he did that, so it must be, right?

"Francie, I'm going to use my fingers a little bit, okay?"

Again, he waited for a sound of assent before putting action to the words, and he inserted his second finger a little so he could use his mouth on the round thing more, sucking and licking, exerting more pressure and suction when she tensed more.

"Francie, you taste really, really good," he murmured at one point, just to reassure her, because he'd heard that some girls worried about this.

"Thanks," he heard her answer in a happy, languid voice, with a small laugh after. Her hands came down to stroke his head a little after, so Chester figured that, if things weren't going really well, at least they probably weren't going terrible.

He wrapped his arms around her legs and really dug in after that, and he could feel her rising up to meet him in a rhythm he tried to match with his tongue, and soon after that, he felt her tense up in his arms, and heard her let out a prolonged sigh as she relaxed as though someone had cut a muscle in her spine.

He stopped and released her, realizing as he did that his jaw was really sore. He wiped his mouth on the sheets as he moved up to lie down next to her.

"Did you finish?" he asked softly.

Francie could only nod, eyes closed as she breathed rapidly, arms above her head.

Chester watched her chest move up and down, mesmerized. He honestly didn't see how girls got anything done with constant access to such beautiful things.

"That was pretty amazing," Francie breathed. "Chester, your tongue is magic. It should be declared a national monument or something."

Chester grinned. "Great. My first time and everything." He leaned in and kissed Francie on the mouth. "I'm so glad it went well."

Francie laughed. "I can taste myself on you. It's kind of sexy."

Chester leaned back, heaving a breath of satisfaction. "So I guess we'd better get you home."

Francie looked at him in surprise. "What? You want me to go home?"

"What?" Chester looked back, equally surprised. "You don't want another round, do you? Because honestly, I don't know if my jaw can take it."

Francie laughed. "No, silly." She leaned over and kissed him again. "It's your turn next."