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Chapter Sixteen: A Little Loving in the Morning Light (part 2)

At first, things were completely soft and innocent, the regular sort of making out I've become accustomed to, the soft and caring kind which lead up, both in fantasy and reality, to our situations on Thursday and last nights. The situations we built through our calls too, they were in my head as I felt a warm feeling rise through me. I felt myself collapsing to Rory, letting my walls fall away as she brought me even closer within her, our bodies pressing tightly as she took the lead I was all too willing to cede. The story had taken everything out of me, all of the momentum of resuming the routine.

I couldn't understand, rationally, what I was doing. I felt her hands move lower across my back, and actually sliding beneath my camisole. Our kissing, even deeper than before, if that is possible, with teeth actually clashing together. She moved her hands up and down my exposed sides, those warm hands all over. We were fully vertical on the bed, our clothing pushed off to the side onto the floor.

I tried to will myself to stop responding, but I couldn't once she made a nip on the corner of my lips. I was backed into a corner, literally, and soon, before I could realize that it was happening, that warm, familiar slickness I had felt since that last-second substitution as Romeo was pushing from my legs. The hot pulsations, that loss of friction, the stickiness I felt. Despite my best intentions to hold off, I was becoming wet.

It probably wasn't helping that I was enjoying the stretch cotton so much I had opened up my legs to enjoy the foreign sensation. Or that Rory's thigh was pressing right against it. The slickness of the silk from last night was gone, only to be replaced by something else even more inexpressible.

I wasn't pulling away from her, welcoming the rocking. My mind told me to be rational and just let myself build up throughout the day, maybe let out all the sexual stress on the lacrosse pitch by flagrantly fouling Jeanette McCord with a trip and stick charge at the same time.

My body though was under other control, and instead welcomed Rory closer towards me. I heard her express how much she wanted me, that this was the best night she ever had, looking so fucking wanting in that polka dot ensemble.

Yes, I lied about the 'you know you want me' vibe from earlier, I did want her indeed!

I found myself so riled up, that I clenched my legs around her thigh, wanting a furious and fast get off as quickly as I possibly could. Whether my panties were brand new or not, I didn't care, I just wanted her so badly. Her kissing was furious, full of desire.

"What do you want?" she encouraged, before going in for another kiss. "Do you like it when I do this?" Her lips kissed down my jawline, using me as if I was a test subject to experiment with certain stimuli.

Nor was her body idle. She pushed herself closer into me on purpose, while her legs crossed around mine, which made me even hotter within the clasping. She pushed her thigh against me and I was gritting my teeth, the agony getting me so wet. I was dampening, my eyes glazing over with each new push. All over again, it was a repeat of her seduction of last night.

Soon though, I came to think that she wasn't interested in just frictioning between me to bring me off. From my jawline, her kisses trailed low down my neck, and onto my chest. Her words, at this time of morning usually more innocent than a born-again Strawberry Shortcake, weren't at all in the mindset of preparation. I was struggling with losing her lips, but then I had a thought to jar my thoughts.

What if this is foreplay? I wasn't willing to call it that at first, but soon, her actions began suggesting that she had finally taken herself out of the confines of routine like I did. The light of day made everything different from the dimness of the evening before.

"I really love your scent," she purred as she moved lower and lower, beginning to move her leg away from me. I began to relax a bit and settle down, having nothing to push against any longer. "And how soft your skin is."

"Rory...oh dear..." Somehow I thought I was sounding normal and affected by what she was doing. I brought my thoughts back to the upcoming school day, of a particularly tough calculus formula I was expecting to have brought up by my instructor today. I was so prepared that my TI-85 was pre-programmed with that formula, which I had been playing with out of boredom Friday afternoon as my stupid relatives played what had to be the worst Monopoly game I ever watched. Four people per token, and they were thinking no one would kill each other if someone bought a property they didn't want. Seriously, what were they thinking? It's shocking no one left Ormond Beach with a red hotel jutting permanently from their forehead.

I rehearsed in my head my answer after my hand-raising, trying to anticipate what might be the answer...

Then without warning, my mind went blank, completely.

After that, I gasped out Rory's name in utter shock, as her lips kissed lower and lower down from my navel, onto the waistband, and then lower than that. The short-lived calmness had been taken away from me, to be replaced with something else. Her head popped back up as she heard my reaction. I had been content with eyes closed for moments, and she used that time to...well...what can I say, really.

Still, she remained innocent, trying not to play her hand with a lopsided smirk towards me.

"Someone should take her own advice; you seem really bottled up."

"Huh?" I was totally clueless as she crawled back up towards me and grasped me up off the pillows with her hands. "Whatever it is, I'm not bottled up."

"You lost your mind," she mentioned, moving back within my space. "Your eyes glazed over, and when you blanked out there, I swore you said you wanted me to move lower."

"No, I didn't." Did I? Even I didn't know myself, my thoughts so relaxed that my attention span drifted from her kissing as she moved lower. "I would have remembered."

I found her to have surprising strength as she crawled off the bed on the side, holding both of my hands. I kept my attention from her very hardened nipples, shielded by the bra. Dragging me off, her voice was deep and throaty, while her eyes can best be described in the definition of the bedroom type.

"You want to work yourself off, don't you?" she suggested as I got up from the bed. Her hands remained in mine as she stepped backward in a slow pace. "You were wrapping your legs around me so tight."

"Rory." I tried to sound serious and sway her away from that track. "Of course I'm going to: you were pushing against me."

"Only because you were so overpowering." She enveloped me into her grasp and ran her fingers through my hair. "You started out with open legs, your breathing became rushed, and all the sudden you're pulling at me." I felt her backing towards the direction of my work desk. "I know what you're thinking."

"No, you don't." OK, I did, but I wasn't going to share that with her. "Let's just get dressed--"

I was interrupted by her hand sliding out from my hair, and then down my back, where she applied a squeeze to the lower part of my ass.

"Par, I see that you're frustrated." I bit back at my lip to strangle my reaction. "You're distracted, mind running in different directions."

"I am not distracted!" I claimed, but knowing it was futile. My steps within the tight panties were not helping at all as my lips rubbed against each other, sending stimulation through my clit. I thought unsexy things to try to kill the mood, but starting at Rory at the same time was definitely not helping. Especially when her still-damp hair hanging limply on her shoulders gave me this picture of beauty that was so hard to resist, along with the dimples in her seductive smile.

I wasn't helping my case at all as Rory's hand cupped at my ass, meandering all over as she got a feel for it. I felt myself near to the desk, not knowing what might be floating through her mind. All I knew was that she was purposefully getting to me in order to further things along. I tried looking towards my alarm clock on the far side of the room for the time.

Just as I had a line of sight towards the green numbers though, Rory blocked my view and moved her other hand down towards my lower half, and began to bend down to my level as I felt the back of the old wide desk, the broad piece of furniture now so perfect to not only do homework, but keep my computer on. I pushed my hands down on the edge of the surface to brace.

Her eyes were wide as she gave me such an unsettling look, from my face down into my décolletage, my bust on full display for her perusal. My mind tried to think of her as just teasing me, that in a minute or so she would leave me hot and bothered, just enough of a taste to get me through the school day. That's how she worked in the past, a tease that left me at the end of the day with my mind blown and panties ruined.

She stared at me eye-to-eye, her hands moving up towards my waistline at the sides. I was stilled, preparing for the inevitable pull-away and the changing into our uniforms. The return to routine. The end of twelve hours of pure bliss.

"So you're completely aware that I've wanted to go down on you since the moment I woke up?"

OK, she's just teasing here, Gellar, we haven't been together that long. Go ahead and humor her; she's not going to do it. Lorelai probably uses this line with her guys all the time to break the ice!

"Of course," I said, fully confident I was on script with her.

"That I've wanted to taste from you." That voice of hers took on a possessive growl, unsettling me. Yet, I stayed still, waiting for the end of the flirting. "You get so wet when you're aroused, perfectly slick to accommodate my fingers within. But my dreams, they keep going back to me, eating you out, fucking you with my tongue." Her eyes focused downward. "I just have been thinking all weekend about taking things further between us, that even before Thursday night I wanted to take things slow."

My mind kept thinking this was all a joke, words to get me horny and nothing else.

So then why were her hands sliding into the waistband of my new lingerie and her face getting lower and lower?

"I've taken things slow for too long," she theorized. "I lost so many opportunities to advance things with Dean. Our first summer, I was helping him wash his truck and I just had this urge to take him into my mouth on the seat as we both got soapy and wet. A few times, I wanted him to finger me in a back room at the Inn. Last year, I was going to bribe him to stay away from the play rehearsals by giving him a handy, but once he saw Tristan, he went all Neanderthal and killed that desire in me."

I was shocked at how Rory was talking to me, as if she had this entirely other dark side that planned out her sexual escapades, always stopped by Deano just as they came to fruition.

"Now I want to know something before I do this." She looked up at me, her usually light blue eyes taking on a tint more dark blue and menacing. "You're not going to stop me from doing something just because of your pre-conceptions of me, right? Or because seems wrong to someone else?"

I felt my throat tighten and my heartbeat pick up, hammering as hard as that old bear toy from the 80s within my chest.

She was serious. Fucking hell, she was actually going to pull down my underwear, get on her knees, and take me with her tongue! There was no kidding, this wasn't foreplay...she wanted to do this.

"You've shared so much with me...now I want to share something with you in appreciation." Her head dipped below my breasts as her nose drifted down my midsection. I panted at the very idea of her...down there.

My eyes rolled back within their sockets and I was so deeply in trouble. How could she even think about wanting to please me, like that?

"Rory, stop," I commanded weakly. "You have no idea what you're doing; I know you've never done this. This isn't you--"

She blew out a hard breath against my belly, causing my legs to gel in place and become wobbly where I stood.

"No time like the present then," she intoned, her voice deepening in a way that sent shudders through my spine, goosebumps along my arms. "I know how. I might not on an actual clit, but I'd like to think I'm a..." She began to unroll the boyshorts down my legs as she finished off the sentence, along with my sanity. "...fast learner."

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she was indeed trying to kill me. Her thumbnails scraped my skin as she pulled the panties down, exposing me full-frontal to her for the first time. Before, she self-policed how much she actually wanted to see of me; I had never really seen her look lower than my navel in our flirting and making out. All of her experience below that line was with her hands.

She backed me up so I could take somewhat of a seat against the desk. I felt the goosebumps flare up my skin, trying to relax myself as best as possible. I tried making more conversation as much as I could, no thanks to the dopamine and adrenaline mixing up together in my brain blocking any rational thought.

"From...from the books?" I asked. My voice was creakier than ever before.

She nodded, her eyes stark across my junction, pushing the boyshorts down to my knees. "Partly from them, yes. I've...I've also been lurking at some educational websites."

"Thank goodness you have a Mac," I lamely noted. "They could carry spyware--"

My lecture on computer safety was rudely cut off as her hands, on my thighs, spread me open a little, to examine my inner workings. One of those fingers happened to brush against my clit, causing me to spasm in place. I yelped, trying to control my jaw so I could keep it closed.

I felt her breath upon me, making me react. I've pictured this moment so many times before, whether it was in my dreams or a carried out sexual fantasies. I thought that I knew how it would be.

Oh, how dreams can be wrong.

"Spread out for me," she intoned. I felt myself in a panic, scared to widen my legs. The words of earlier, where I told her I didn't care if one lip was higher than the other, they were thrown back my way. At least there I wasn't touching her, but here...she was definitely going to. I took in a deep breath, trying to steel myself for a sudden jerk if she touched me where I didn't expect her to. I slowly brought each of my legs out to the sides. I was so wet and the cool air on my labia sent a dizzying rush through me. Her hands gripped at my thighs to keep me still.

She drew out the inevitable to calm me, trying to counter her own nerves. We both hadn't talked about this within our phone conversations or in the car rides, probably afraid of what one another would think of the idea, so this was wholly new to us. I just didn't expect it would be so soon and with me receiving rather than giving.

It's better this way, I told myself. She's been the one behind you the last three months staring at you in class, thinking about all those ways you can come together sexually. Last night was wonderful, what you did, what she did. But you know you want more. And you have to think about it this way: it's spontaneous, not what you expected. You're turned on from the idea that she's about to go down on you and that you managed to turn her on in your underwear. You have to enjoy that power you wield with her and just go with it.

I knew I couldn't fret. If I tasted funny, so be it. I felt her lay a few tentative kisses along each of the outside of my lips, her nose touching each of them. It was a soft exploration to begin, as she got to know my intimate anatomy. Her lips were pursed closed, surveying the outline of my vagina. I thankfully stood still, knowing the best was still to...still ahead. That first word choice is a little too close for comfort.

Her breath was still steady, strong. She was focused on what she wanted and it was almost if she had fully taken the Chilton Way to everything that she does. She opened up her mouth and began the tease.

That's when her mouth opened up and she let her tongue come into play within my damp slit. Immediately I reacted by gripping the edge of the desk as I groaned deeply, throwing back my neck. I hissed her name as she laid kisses along my bud. She barely had much experience at all, yet so far, she wasn't awkward.

I let myself float within the first waves, conscious that she might move too low and startle me or do it wrong. My mind analyzed all the wrong things she could do, like lick above my clit, bite too hard or move a little too low. Rationality was trying to ruin it for me.

Stop, my vixen warned. You're not going to ruin this moment by reliving America's Worst Sex Tapes! I let myself try to stay focused on the task at hand, my stomach a twisted morass as she tried to find my most sensitive areas.

She kept below my clit, continuing to kiss at the sensitive flesh below. She parted me further, just enough to get a good look at things. I felt tingles through my spine as she used her lips to nip just below my nub. I shuddered audibly, helping guide her through where to go through audible cues, both vocal and grunting. She moved a little off to the side where I felt nothing; I whined for her to come back, and if she was hitting the right spot, I acknowledged with a deep "Yes."

I clenched as slowly teased, her mouth seeming to be doing well for a true beginner. I could only imagine how she used her debate exercises as practice to do this, her mouth in circles as she twisted her way around a citation from a translated French medical journal where she had to mention the title in that tongue. Looking down at her, all of her attention was on me, not straying at all. Still, she was tentative, afraid to break me if she dipped in too far.

More teasing and tongue play followed, my eyes straying between a full focus on her and squinting closed when a slight twimmer went through me when she did something right. Slowly she moved up the flesh, going with nips and kisses as she moved up. With each new movement I tightened, at the same time becoming aware that I was slickening with anticipation at what she was doing.

I sucked in my stomach and felt myself go with each of the building waves. I could feel the erectile tissue of each of my nipples harden as she got tantalizingly close to bringing me to fruition, my toes curled up where I stood and I lifted up a few inches. My nails were dug right into the counter while I stared up at the ceiling, noting how well the contrasting tan went so well with the lavender shade of the walls. I tried to use that as my Birmbaum-imposed focal point to just focus on myself rather than what she was doing.

I want to feel good. I want to feel good, I little-engine-that-coulded internally. Higher, higher, higher, I felt breath take leave of my lungs...

In a few moments, I began to feel myself rise out from my being, her teeth scraping my clit as it came out from the hood. I yelped out loud, trying to bring myself used to the new sensation of her down there. Her mouth took it into both lips and I felt myself immediately react as she got her lay of the land. I called her name out roughly, trying to make myself sound as I was, taken away and well-revered.

Instead, I came out rough, commanding, and unwelcoming. She immediately pulled back as she saw my teeth clench, not in rage, but in shock. My tone suggested I didn't welcome her advance and she pulled back, resting onto her knees.

Looking up at me, unsure, I saw her mood shift from playful and silly, to scared. I had to reassure her, but in a way where she didn't have to say a word. I know she'd go into an apology ramble if I stayed silent, and I didn't want that to kill the mood.

I scooted even further onto the desk and then brought my hands up.

"Pa--"

One of them I placed at the bottom of her jaw to close it shut. Then I placed both on her cheeks. And then I brought her back towards me, my look saying it all. I was serene, yet neutral, wearing the most confident smile I ever had as I communicated to her via eye contact that it was shock, not disgust, that caused me to react wrong. She didn't have to stop because of that and I could read her like a book. If I encouraged her, things could go forward.

I opened my legs up about an inch further, running my fingers through her hair to reassure. Her smooth locks would be something to calm me, so much more than the edge of a desk. It was to show that I care for her, and what she's doing for me. Come on, Rory, you can do this. Make me feel good. Please, don't pull away based on a knee-jerk reaction.

She licked around her lips again, to re-wet them, to add to the act she was about to do for me. I lost my mind trying to imagine her reaction to her own taste intermingling with mine.

Then I looked down towards her, trying to communicate that I was ready for this. That she should not look at my outside reflection as a channel into my inner psyche. My clitoris, swelling with blood flow, my lower body numbed to not move. My eyes were nowhere near a clock and my attention was fully on her.

I pulled her towards me as I gave her that final signal that I wasn't going to pull away, that kissing against a tree in the town square wasn't my idea of enough to get me by. I wanted her, unrestricted; damn the entirety of the Gilmore family, the town of Stars Hollow, and the Chilton student body.

Finally, fuck you Sharon. I echoed that loudly through my mind to make it clear that Mother had no stake in this at all.

I stared Rory down, my voice picking up strength, and with my fists in balls as I pulled her in I gave myself over to her fully

Her warm breath across my clit, I succumbed to the finality of the situation.

"Please, Ror," I said with anguish, in a soft whisper. "I want you. I want to feel this all day long."

She closed the last of the gap with those words, took my clit into her mouth, and claimed me as hers.

I looked down at towards her as she tentatively poked and prodded within me to start, making sure I wasn't going to do something I didn't want it. Playing with me, she started in a slow circle pattern, starting at the right side of my clit, then moving towards the left, and then dotting the "I" so to speak on the tip-top of the pleasurable appendage. Indeed, it started slow, caring. Very Rory-like, as I expected. She kept up a steady pace, her slick tongue on my clit helping me to start the journey towards fulfillment. I went back to last night, how aggressive I was pushing against her, furious for the release I wanted to experience.

My cries were soft, my head far from thrown back. A strap of the cami-bra fell a bit down my shoulder, but not enough to pull everything down. I kept focused on her to start, encouraging her audibly and vocally where to go. Thankfully not much guidance was needed, for she had me memorized, trying to find my sensual spots to start out, combining that with her readings, and going from there through trail and error.

Looking towards the window, I was thankful for being on the second floor, the warm early sunlight bathing the both of us in a glow. I jerked with each touch of her tongue, closing my throat when a moan was about to be let out.

I had to wonder if she hadn't done this before, even though I certainly knew it was her first time. Like a researcher, her hands were not idle, staying at my sides, her thumbs brushing against my lips to add a building sense of stimulation. Her fingernails traced the outline of my folds. She continued to lick at my clitoris with a steady pace, taking on a sweeping circle motion counter-clockwise.

Yes, I memorized the direction of tongue travel; you would too if you had a seemingly innocent classmate and rival eating you out minutes before school! Well, maybe not, but still--

Still, without mathematical terms, she was doing the right thing for me and that's all that mattered. I began to lose control of my thoughts after that point, letting myself become swept up in what Rory was doing to me. To state it simply, what she did was indescribable. Teasing me, she had me in a daze. My throat began to dry with each sweep, forcing a gasp, a calling of her name, something indecipherable out of my mouth.

I pushed back more as she speeded her strokes and began to push her tongue in and out, thumbs keeping me widened. I threw my hair back, my hands tangling through the slick wetness of her brown hair. I felt warm thinking of her focus on my slit, her field of vision between my navel and all the way down to the bottom of my mons. Her tongue kept up a swift circling motion and I began to feel arousal force out, bubbling from within me. I begged her to go faster, closing my eyes, trying to change my focus within my mind of her point of view.

Rory began to hasten the process of my climax by pushing her palate atop of her mouth. I was hyperventilating, concentrating on my fulfillment...

"Hmmmmm...hmmmm...hmmmm..."

I screamed loudly as she did that. Oh my God, she's humming!

My eyes rolled back, and my reality began to bleed into my fantasy. Moving up a smidge, she took me into her mouth as much as she could, and began to suck my clit, pushing it in and out, and continued the humming barrage. I began to clench, the waves of contractions flowing through me hotly. I swore the darkness in front of my eyelids turned a bright shade of white as she went on.

Moments later, I was leaning back against the desk so much that I probably could have been laying on it. I kept shouting her name in conjunction with 'fuck' and 'oh, shit,' my filter completely off and my mouth out of control. My heart pounded within my chest and I could feel the dampness spill from me. Rory pushed further and further, stimulating me dead center on my most sensitive spot on the outside. I glazed over, trying to imagine the moment she pushed in to find that certain spot which would turn me into a complete mess.

"Rory...oh damn...Rory...Rory!" She kept her humming going, my clit swelling all the way out as I felt myself coming to a peak. My hands on her head for a powerful brace, I pushed her as closely as possible into me so she could get me off. Quickly I found myself impatient for a release, begging and pleading for her to give it to me.

Thankfully, she was being charitable and didn't hold it off. My lip bit down onto as hard as I could without drawing blood, Rory suckled and licked me, as if insatiable for me. I ground my hips in and out, in and out, trying to finish myself off. My lungs filled with air taken in hard; I let myself fall into the long but sudden waves. I couldn't believe this was happening and though I knew it was real, I still thought it was a dream.

The orgasm starting to cut through me though was definitely a reality. With my clitoris between her lips, Rory finished me off with the tip of her tongue. I reacted rather violently, screaming out in a way that if not for my mouth, would be on par with a murder scream. I mumbled her name, my eyes shutting as the big waves began to hit me. I sucked in my stomach and curled my toes as hard as I could as everything hit me: the weekend that had just changed everything between us.

I screamed out Rory's name, between much clenched teeth and I felt myself spill over in the literal sense; I could only think about how much aware she was that I truly did ruin bedsheets when I had time with myself. I barely remember much of what happened during the actual event, for it was that overwhelming.

I lost my bearings as I hit a hard part of the orgasm, blanking out for a couple of minutes. Apologies for that, but truly I had never felt what I did in that moment; it was so very foreign and unknown for me to have a girlfriend giving me such hot, focused, and unrelenting sexual attention in the way she did.

And for her to be from a town like the Hollow...sometimes you have to wonder if the best relationships really do come from small town girls.

Soon though, I had my bearings back within my bedroom as I began to settle down, overheated from my climax. I needed to get a new look at my surroundings, my legs numb, breasts straining against my cami, and the space between my legs so sensitized that I thought any touch would anger my body.

That's when I noticed that I was back in my bed, laying my head on a pillow.

With my bearings restored, I found myself looking at Rory to my right, with her uniform on, but with the blouse unbuttoned and untucked, while she rubbed at my cheek. She smiled, looking at me as if I was to be revered, licking her lips. God, even dressed she looked so beautiful.

"Hon," she said, moving closer. "I didn't think that you were that...wound up."

Looking down at myself, I then noticed I had my own blouse on, though no skirt or shoes. I felt all out of sorts, wanting to spend time with her, though I kept reminding myself of the impending time of 8:05am, the start of school once again.

Nervously she bit down on her lip, considering that my slitted eyes were a sign that I was annoyed with losing my mind through the orgasm. "Are you all right? You seemed to almost faint against me when you came. I'm sorry if I did too much."

I shook my head, my voice tired. "Better too much than nothing at all." I shifted my hand up along her slim waist. "Really, Rory. I will get used to it. I'm just in a stunned state of shock that you would even want to...want..." Damn, I couldn't find the words.

"That you wanted your running mate to go down on you?" she questioned, bemused. "You were so...so...wow!" We moved closer towards each other. "I can't imagine what will happen when you do that to me."

"I felt so filled up...perfectly happy." I beamed, trying to locate my skirt, wherever it was. "We didn't have much time though so I couldn't elongate it further than we have, but really, I felt the beginning. It was plenty enough for me."

"Are you sure you don't want more?" She teased. "I suppose I could--"

I reacted with shock but kept my sanity despite her promise of another encounter. "Seriously, Gilmore. You're worse than Tristan and Louise combined at times!" I laughed as she stared at me in shock. "What? I'm telling the truth."

"Oh please, I am not!"

"You used a Franklin article to get to me! I should make you write the lunch menu for that!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Her jaw dropped before I pulled her in close for a kiss.

"Probably not," I admitted as I pulled away. "Louise did something like it though. She called a baseball player on the varsity once, disguising her voice as the pitching coach, beckoning him to the tub room for some massage therapy. Imagine his surprise when he found a naked Lou in said hot tub, pulling down his shorts and getting to know his--"

"OK!" Rory interrupted me. "I know the next words out of your mouth involve a sphere of cowhide and possibly a wood hitting implement constructed into an entendre. I don't want to think about her!"

"I'm not," I said softly, finding my focus drifting off topic as I realized her mouth had no hint of mint within it. In the time I was coming down she hadn't rinsed, which meant I was going to continue to live up to my title as Archduchess of Delayed Reactions with my next statement. I moved back towards her, a hammering heart and my pleasure lobe overloaded.

"Oh, Rory." I ran my tongue along the inner rim of my lips. Shuddering, I took in my familiar taste, so turned on, looking at my girlfriend, only moments after her first try at oral sex, looking at me with so much wanton desire and admiration. I could have never dreamed this morning would have happened the way it did. Not in the least at all. This was just...

She placed her hand on my arm and nodded, bringing herself to me once more for another long and lingering kiss. This time, tasting my own arousal within it brought me to a level never known before. It was deep but caring and soft, both of us pushed together close as I enjoyed the feel of what Rory had done to me, so much. We molded into each other so perfectly and to hear her compliment my taste...it was such a stunning thing to me.

We stayed like that for long minutes, teasing and exploring, talking to each other. We were so infatuated with each other; time melted away, both of us lost, together.

As a matter of fact, we almost ended up drifting off to sleep again, her hand at my waist, mine on hers, when my attention caught on the long since neglected alarm clock on my nightstand.

When my eyes landed upon the glowing green numbers, there was no delayed reaction at all. I became white as a sheet and began to panic, immediately rising up in the unmade and messy bed.

"Paris, what's wrong?" Rory asked, concerned. I darted a dead stare in her direction as I got off the bed and ran towards the pile containing my skirt and sweater in a full panic.

"Why don't you look at the clock?" I off-handed, trying to keep the fear I felt out of my voice. "We spent too much time being silly, and now its 7:43!" I was freaked; I considered twenty minutes before school to be the perfect time to get in, to gather up my books, socialize, and plan out my day at my desk in Advanced Ec.

"Oh God!" Rory, despite her lack of a years-long non-tardiness streak, was just as startled, hopping off the mattress and trying to look for her tie in the mess of her clothing from last night and a couple of discarded sheets. We both were in a frenzied rush, trying to locate our uniform parts and put them on as straight as possible. I hopped into my skirt and tried to close it, only to find that it was on backwards, with the snap on the other side entirely. Our hair was a mess and I didn't even have any time to take my messenger bag from luggage to school mode from last night! As I tried to button up my blouse. I unpacked the stuff that didn't belong there, such as my travel toothpaste, a cheap hairbrush, some brochures I threw in the bag at the airport.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry! Crap, this is what I was afraid of!" As I started to put things into perspective, I watched as Rory went back to two years ago and Mr. Medina told her there wasn't any way she was going to take the test as I looked on and laughed at her misery. She had every reason to panic, afraid that her GPA was down the toilet because she was late by seven minutes. "What happens if he doles out a test and we can't take it? You're going to hate me forever because we can't take it! I mean...fuck, you've never been late. Never, ever, ever!"

The language she used startled me; she was annoyed at herself that her idea to seduce me last night might end up being our downfall. I looked at her and saw the panic and disappointment in her eyes. I seriously had not meant that being silly would ruin our getting to school. I wasn't at all angry with her.

Frankly, I was more worried about the streak more than I ever was about any grades we might lose. And even then, a test that means more than ten percent of our grade must have advanced notice per school rules. Mr. Mercurio pulled that in 1996 with a quarter of the grade pop quiz coming back from autumn/Yom Kippur break, but the results were rescinded on Charleston's order when 11 out of the top 25 for that year's senior class blew the test and he saw that Mercurio was trying to influence graduation towards his star pupils rather than give an even assessment.

I knew Mr. Silvestri would never do that, however, since his class is one of the toughest to even pull out an A in. He knows that his curriculum is demanding, and prefers to dole his tests out in huge chunks around a set of units, rather than smaller tests about each unit. If he did spring a quiz, it would be a quick one with ten questions only going back two weeks.

Truthfully, the tardy mark meant little to me in reality. So I would be late one time out of 20,160 hours of education through fourteen years going back to August 1988. I could dwell on that fact.

Or, I could dwell on how my eyes, in that exact moment, caught Rory in a state of sloppy dress that two years ago would have brought me to a full-blown rant about how she was disrespecting the uniform by draping the tie loosely over the collar, that her skirt should not be unhooked a bit, her socks shouldn't be drooping down, nor should her hair not be perfectly thrown into a simple ponytail that didn't draw any attention. I would have also seethed at her not having her sweater vest on at all, still in her backpack and probably wrinkled up.

Instead, I stared at her. Thinking about why she wound me up so much through the space of twelve hours, to get me into this state of disarray where I had thrown off routine and become spontaneous putty in her hands. That she brought me to orgasm...twice. That she now knew of my tattoo, a fact that I would have preferred would be between only my family and myself, and that it wasn't on the surface just something that looked pretty; that it connected with my soul.

Staring at her as I clasped my tie closed, I decided for the first time, without an excuse, that a Chilton teacher would mark a half filled-in box next to my name in the December 2, 2002 line.

Because I was going to give the downright sexy girl stumbling into her untied saddle shoes across from me thanks for giving me truly the best night of sleep, and then the best morning, I've ever had.

Still, on the outside, I was still panicked and rushed as she finished dressing and I was trying to find which papers on the desk, which were thrown to the side when she pushed me towards it, I needed for school. Knowing me, she stayed out of my way while I checked the right hand corner to make sure the dates were in November and the notes were what I needed. I speed-read through everything, mumbling out the script quickly to a syllabus I was going over for my class after lunch, and then grabbing three sharpened Ticos and a blue gel pen from my cup, not trusting those in my bag to not have been unaffected under the cabin pressure on the jet.

Soon, Rory was dressed as much as she could and I straightened myself out, tossing her my brush after I was done with it myself after a very quick brushing. "Just take it with you!" I commanded as I bent down to tie her shoes for her, not wanting to lose one more minute in the Manor when we could be out on the road. I felt so strange not being able to take my time, rushing through things.

After I finished on the second shoe, I got up to face her questioning gaze. "Are we ready?" she asked.

I nodded and smiled. "We don't have a minute to waste!" We put on our coats, both hanging on the door, and then headed down the hall towards the kitchen stairs. I got the fob for the Jag out, pushing the ignition button and unlocking the doors, and then the trunk to put our bags in. I was glad we could pretty much get in and drive without wasting any time. We both ran down the stairs, holding the railing tight for dear life in case we tripped. We had to focus on the hopefully only ten-minute commute to come...

But as I hit the landing towards the kitchen, I spied that we were about to get the third degree.

There was my mother, near the door, looking out the window, towards 'her' gardens, in a silk robe that rose above her knees and screamed that she was a rabid cougar. How I know that term, God help me!

Would you want to guess what her choice of breakfast drink, in a glass in her hand, was? I'll tell you now it wasn't Carnation or orange juice.

Rory panicked as she backed into me and looked at the woman she loathed with a deep passion. She couldn't communicate with me but she could only look at Sharon tensely as she turned around, the disgusting red tint of her Bloody Mary (which I'm sure had more Mary than Bloody in it) swilled around the glass.

"Paris, good morning," she greeted in that syrupy voice that sends cold chills through my spine. "I wasn't expecting you to still be here so late in the morning. Don't you have school?"

"Yes, Mother." I felt tense in her presence, hoping she didn't notice that my blouse was somewhat untucked. "I...well, the both of us, we overslept. We never got to the bed and ended up sleeping on the desk last night from studying and paper work."

She frowned, seeing Rory behind me. "I'm afraid I don't know this girl." She made a 'come here' motion with her finger towards Rory. "Would you please tell me your name?"

If I expected her to weaken within my mother's clutches, she did not, firmly keeping her manners. "Rory Gilmore, ma'am." She smiled, with honey and cotton candy coating her voice. "You don't remember me? I talked to you on the phone before I came over last night."

"I...I did?" She is not playing the drunk card! I was shocked that she was using my mother's alcoholism to take herself out of a perilous position.

"Of course. You don't remember?"

"Well...um...I know I talked to someone." She went over last night in her mind, which more than likely consisted of a horrible phone call to Mohegan Man which I shall not soil your mind with, followed by reacquainting herself with J&B and Absolut until she eventually passed out, her bladder spurring her to wake up around 5am, along with possibly her gag reflex.

"Yes, I told you I needed to go over things for the paper with your daughter, and that it would be an all-night thing." Her voice was so confident that if I hadn't spent the night with her, I would've thought she was actually telling the truth. "You really don't remember? You even offered me something to eat, but I had already, so I had to turn you down. Sorry about that, by the way." She smiled, as if she remembered everything about the 'conversation' from memory.

"I apologize, I must have been really jet lagged." My mother put her hand to her temple and squinted, trying to clear her mind. "You must have called just after we got home and I forgot when I drifted off to sleep." Wow, we were actually going to get away with this! I would have never thought that of all the people to put one over on her, it would be Rory! "I don't usually allow Paris to have company, but...." Her thoughts were clouded and she quickly lost her point. "Did you two do everything you needed to?"

"That, and more; we made surprising progress." Inside of my jacket, my fists were clenched nervously. "You have quite a fine daughter, Mrs. Gellar. I would have thought she would be tired going over what we needed after the flight, but she has a surprising zeal about things. She took action on something when I least expected it. Paris was certainly devoted to the project."

Great, not only did I have to deal with a girlfriend flirting with me right in front of my mother, but she'd veiled what we did in my bedroom in her words. I noticed her smirk, and was just enjoying how clueless my mother seemed to everything. I felt tense but the conversation between my mother and her seemed to be the exact reverse of what I expected.

There was also stirring going on within me, noticing that her confidence around Sharon was giving me this odd vibe of want. I tried to push that away, focusing on trying to get out of the house.

"She certainly enjoys devoting time to her causes, although I wish she would participate in organizations that would give her a leg up with admissions."

"I think she has great causes right now," Rory commended. "I could probably count on her to add an addition to my house without a problem or train a pet dolphin." At least she was doing something for my pride while my mother seemed to be passive-aggressive. "Her work on the paper is exemplary and once she gets into debate season, she's a whole new animal."

Rory, if you do not stop right now, I swear to God I will become a whole new animal! She was staring at me in this way that twisted my stomach as my mother tried to keep herself on an even keel.

"Indeed, she is. Now if she would just find a good boy to tame that animal--" All right, time to kill the conversation; time was ticking away! I cleared my throat, seeing that Rory directed a glare towards my mother for that.

"Mother, if we don't leave now, we're going to be late!" I grabbed Rory at her arm and showed her towards the door. "I hate to cut this short, but we're late as it is."

"Fine, Paris; go on to school," she responded, disaffected that I was going to be late. "It was nice to meet you, Rory."

"Yeah, you too." I could sense high tension in Ror's voice, like she wasn't welcoming of the conversation at all. "I hope you have a nice day, Mrs. Gellar."

"You two. Goodbye ladies!" Her cheerful voice was more false than a Madame Tussaud's wax figure. and the smile from her collagen-filled lips scared Rory so much she quickly turned around at her first opportunity. We ran out to the garage with speed, wanting to get on the road and push Sharon out of our minds as fast as we could. Of course, we waited until we were both in the car to say anything. We threw our bags in the trunk, closed it, and then climbed in the thankfully-warm car with all the speed we could muster.

That's when Rory visually and audibly shuddered as she belted herself in, flattening out her skirt and then groaning at what she just had to do. I hadn't seen her body language take on that tight protective shell since we had it out in the conference room. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and her face was heated.

She then slid her hand on top of mine, turned around, then...

"I hope her day actually sucks." She turned her frown into a smile= and laughed as I rolled my eyes. "I'm shocked I got away with telling her I called her!"

"Me too, I thought for sure you were doomed. You were certainly on your toes for that one."

"Well, I had the same problem once when I went to Dean's and fell asleep on the floor. Mrs. Forrester was livid at me for not asking permission, never mind that I wasn't in a making out mood because of you-know-what and that Clara made me stay over to watch a stupid Barbie movie."

I raised my eyebrows as I made the turn onto Mountain. "You didn't...you and Dean did not have a date during his sister's DVD time!" Laughing, I placed my hand at Rory's knee after making the turn. "What kind of guy is that?"

"His parents never trusted us alone and Mrs. F always wanted a cheap babysitter." She sighed, recalling how horrible it went. "I finally got Clara to bed at 2am because Disney Channel just happened to have on a Lizzie McGuire marathon on. When they came home, Mrs. Forrester yelled at me, never mind that when I tried to pull her away from the TV she freaked out and whined while Dean told me not to bother."

"Oh dear. I think I met her during that story last year at the community center," I recalled. "When I introduced myself as your friend, she reeled back away from me and said 'you must be Rory's nutso classmate.' And when I asked her where she heard that..."

"Dean," Rory finished. "I can understand your hostility towards him, seeing as he thought while Jess was flirting with me that I was using you as an excuse for actual study and paper sessions." Tucking back her hair, she told me how she felt about his opinion. "I always thought of you as focused, not crazy. I could never think that of you because of your drive. I think sometimes he did see you as a threat to him."

That was a shocking revelation; I couldn't see myself as any threat in the least.

I asked Rory to explain further. "Put it this way: almost everyone in the Hollow would prefer I stayed with Dean. Two days after I don't know how many people came up to me and were sorry I couldn't work things out with him. Even Lane couldn't see that I was unhappy and frustrated being with him." I nodded as she went on. "If it would have been up to him, Washington never would have happened. I...I told him after the wedding, back at the house." For a beat she hesitated, unsure of how to go about telling me about what she wanted to. "It was just after I had no reaction to Jess's kiss, and your call that we won. I felt guilty about a kiss we didn't enjoy, and at the same time I was all 'I'm going to Washington, with Paris, whom I'd rather have more than Dean.'"

"You...you were thinking that?" I was internally beaming. She nodded in affirmation. "So what did he say?"

"Pretty much that he was angry with you for ruining his summer, that he had everything planned out." I felt my stomach twist as she summarized Dean's reaction to Washington. "He told me that he hoped I had a nice summer, and that..." A pause from her. "What he said next, I admit, I should've ended it after he said it, but he said later it was a spur of the moment reaction and I believed him." With a minute pause, she summoned up the words.

"He said, 'I hope you and that stuck-up bull dyke have fun in DC. Tell her she ruined my summer and she's a'...oh God, I can't even say it." Oh dear.

"What is it?" I asked, hoping it was a light insult.

"Think about December 10th and what it is in relation to today," she suggested vaguely.

"A Tuesday...next...oh." Rhyme said word with the last name of the host of Candid Camera, and you've got what Dean called me.

I couldn't even react to the fact Dean could see right through me, that one of the reasons I had Rory as my VP was to deepen our friendship. It hurt me to know that he managed to keep her so much longer than he should have.

"That's when he suddenly didn't mind going to Chicago with his parents. He apologized just before I left for Washington to keep us together, but it damaged me," she admitted. "When he called you that, it brought things to a head because after we made up after the debate, I wanted to build a bond that would last, that wouldn't tear us apart, and though I was scared to be your vice president, in reality I wanted that responsibility. But every school decision I've made, he questioned. From the sorority, to the Franklin story, and especially that night you came over for study help. You've interrupted any opportunity he's had to get closer to me, and though I've been more than willing in the past to go further with him, he never seemed to be in the mood. I guess he could only get off sexually to me when he was competing with someone else for my attention."

"Most awkward threesome ever," I commented with a smirk. "Who would've thought the idea of me in the same room gets him all hot?"

"I don't think it was you, it's the whole defending the caveman thing with him. He needed me all to himself, and if anyone staked a claim, he was going to show them that I was off limits." I could never get enough of Rory's theories, constructed from a mix of her studies and pop culture, they always sound just perfect to me. Thinking of her next to me, a mile and a half still between us and Chilton, I was beginning to feel a bit empowered myself. If not for the election, things would be different. Rory would be the middle cog in a hellish love triangle, and who knows where I'd be? Dean certainly would have been happy.

Well, not happy. Mildly pleased, probably. That guy wouldn't know how to be happy if a clown drive-pied him in the face, always so 'I want to work on my car,' and 'stay away from her, ruffian!' Madeline and I still laugh when we recall that moment he tried to fight Tristan and the best insult he could come up with was Dristan. Seriously, c'mon; if you're going to come to blows with an ex-crush of mine, it better not be with a name I came up with all the way back in 1987 to tease him with in preschool!

Ex issues aside, another pressing matter was making itself known, and that was Rory having not yet had her caffeine fix. We had shoved it aside and I knew without one cup of coffee, Rory was apt to lose her wired focus. I was also hungry, since the activities of the evening past and the two hours before had exhausted me, and truthfully I was barely keeping my own eyes open. I needed a sugar fix and I was craving something to eat.

Additionally to my surprise, I was also craving satisfying my girlfriend as we ended the whole Dean topic. The way she looked, her blouse on, but untucked, tie hanging lazily off to one side and her hair messy and not done up. We had stopped at three or four lights on the way down Mountain and each time I snuck looks at her, up and down.

Most of them landed down as I noticed her pale legs in the corner of my eyes and how smooth they were as I kept my hand on her thigh. Unwittingly, I had moved it up while I tried to comfort her, and at that moment, the heel of my hand rested at the hem of her skirt. I scratched her thigh to keep her from going off and it seemed to have calmed her down from totally flaming Dean and back to normal.

I was feeling so nervous, looking at the clock on the console, reading 7:57am. I found myself trying to keep my focus on the busy road in front of me, while at the same time trying to gauge whether I should do something before school. I tried to convince myself of the fact there were only eight minutes to go and that I shouldn't.

Still, I was hungry though. I needed to stop for something to eat before school, anything. But, that would mean we'd be stopped for three minutes within a drive-thru waiting for our order, then making the transaction with the window cashier.

That's when my inner vixen came into play. We were about 3/4 of the way to school when ahead was the familiar pastel logo of Dunkin Donuts on the road. Usually I would want to go further and head to Starbucks, but with it being the morning after Thanksgiving weekend, it was most likely crowded, and I was also hungry for something more than a bagel with cream cheese. I needed something to bite into, something sweet...

The same thought somehow leeched into my thoughts about pulling something with Rory. I had been going slow to take in everything she said, and to hear her say she dealt with the idiot farm boy five months further without wanting to throttle him, I was interested. The talk that he seemed to only want to get his freak on whenever Jess cock-blocked him, or that I took Rory away, I was picturing my girlfriend during one of those times with that guy getting his game on while she was trying to pack or calm him down so they could have a rational conversation.

Hmm. The gears were indeed spinning as I tried to decide what I wanted at the light from the doughnut shop, but also to give Gilmore a reason to think I wanted her, no matter what our moods were. She just happened to choose that moment to find her positioning uncomfortable and uncrossed her legs.

I should have probably mentioned that in the rush to get in the car fast, she wasn't fully sitting on the back of her skirt so it was pushed up in the back, to the point where I saw hints of orange and polka dots when she uncrossed. Also, since she had her button-down sweater in the back, she only had on her blouse, not hiding skin behind her usual tank top, so I could look into a couple of gaps between buttons, and see bits of her bra.

She was a bit distracted, but more from the rush to get to school than from my wandering hand, now just a bit inside of her skirt.

Uggh, I felt like a horny 13 year-old boy thinking of her like this when I should have been focused on AE coming up!

But I couldn't help it: she just looked so sexy and here I was, still feeling a slickness between my legs because her actions of a half-hour before still hadn't left my mind. It was so wonderful and I felt like I wanted to return the favor, no matter that I had already gotten her unexpectedly in the shower.

"Paris?" she asked as I flicked on the turn signal. "You really don't have to stop anywhere. We don't have time for anything--"

"Actually," I interrupted, "we do." Making the turn into Dunkin Donuts, I squeezed my hand against her thigh. "I'm starving for something to keep me going until lunch, and that warm Diet Rite in my locker is not going to get me by. I need to eat something." Slowing down, I looked towards her, her stare frozen on me with my wandering hand. "I would, however, advise that you buy a coffee you can get down quickly..."

OK, Par, here goes nothing. I turned on the flirting as I let my foot off from the gas just as we passed a display board advertising the chain's new iced coffee drink. Pointing it out, I used it to my advantage. "Preferably, something cold." We came to a stop in the drive-thru lane behind an SUV and I looked at her again for the first time in two miles.

My voice was deepened as I tried to explain my intentions. "We might as well face the music, Gilmore. There's no way we will make it to school on time. Thankfully we have enough goodwill built up that one tardy slip will not irreparably harm us." I smiled, watching Rory's eyes widen as I made another move up her thigh.

"We can't be late though; we'll be in trouble."

"From Mr. Silvestri? I doubt it." I moved higher again, the skirt dragging up her thigh as I pushed myself along. "It is the first day back from break and I'm sure we can find many excuses to tell him where we were that we came in late." Working so far, her breath is deepening and there seemed to be less resistance than I previously thought. "I especially have a great one, what with the jet lag I'm still suffering from."

"But you didn't change time zones. He'll never believe that."

"Understandable. Howevern I did change climes. Going from Florida sun to Connecticut chill, he will have some sympathy for me." I brought my eyes down further, seeing that I was halfway between the usual landing of her hem, and where the waistband was. Right in the middle was my goal.

"Rory," I said, bringing the conversation back towards ordering off the menu. "You can have whatever you want." The last three words were said in a way that suggested more than a menu choice. Her eyes stayed on mine while her face flushed with each additional inch of travel from my hand.

Diverting attention from herself, she tried to avert. "I'll just take a coffee. I'm good."

"Just a coffee?" I whispered towards her. "So even if I offered you sweets without my usual lecture, you're not going to bite?"

She rationalized her reason. "I won't have time to enjoy whatever I get."

OK, she wasn't latching on to the open flirt, my offer, or my lack of caring about my class attendance for once. You'd think she would have enjoyed getting me to skip, but I guess not.

There had to be another way to go about this. I knew she was craving me, but I had to find the right button. The last statement hung in my brain, that she wouldn't have time to enjoy her food.

Little did I know that for once, traffic was going to cooperate with me.

As I looked over the menu I found my ears attentive to a sudden breaking traffic story on a low volume on the radio.

That number? 691. Also known as my usual alternate route should the Route 91 exits be overloaded.

We were nowhere near the scene, but as it turned out, even if I had done the usual drive down and then back, we'd be in the same situation but in a different setting, as Trafficopter 1080 relayed the details...

This is one of the worst accidents to ever affect a Hartford rush hour and traffic has not moved since 7am this morning on all three sides of the 91/691 interchange, backed up a mile each way. Nothing is moving, and the alternate routes are not looking any better. What a way to start the holidays back to work, folks!

If Rory hadn't decided to make her trip up last night, we would have been in that junction, right in the thick of the jam. I turned up the radio as the reporter went on about how the inconvenient events of a state salt truck tipping over, a Wonder bread truck breaking the Jersey barrier, blocking seven lanes of traffic, and a high-speed police chase that ended with the chasee on his roof, came together to create a traffic mess that I was glad not to be a part of.

At that moment I looked towards Rory with a mile-wide smile, my libido rising as I had found exactly the opening I was looking for...

Not that opening, what are you thinking?! Let me build this up, please!

"Paris?" Rory was questioning as she took in my suddenly relaxed demeanor when I sighed in relief that the pressure was off. "Um, I guess you're happy we're not in that mess, right?"

I tossed my hair back and just smiled at her, staying silent as I used my arm to push up the armrest, which I would usually do to expose the cupholders and CD tray I never used due to my iPod-based music listening. However, it gave me more maneuvering room for what I was about to do. I rubbed her thigh in a circle and noticed that her breathing was deepening.

"Paris?" She looked towards me, her voice shaking. "Is there anything wrong? Traffic jams are not a good thing, you know this. Right?" Moving it up even more...

"They can be." I licked my tongue around my lips, feeling a new sense of confidence. I hadn't thought about doing this at all and I was going to enjoy another opportunity to be spontaneous. "I figure that if we hadn't have been at my home this morning, we might have been fogging up these windows near mile 72."

Rory's eyes immediately widened as I took the opportunity to push her skirt up a little more. "Oh my God!" She blushed red and looked straight ahead at the SUV. "Paris, we can't do this. Not here! We don't have time!"

My digits went in closer and closer. "I can make time," I responded slyly. "Tell me, are you wound up from being all fake and cheery with my mother?"

She shook her head, yet I could tell she was lying through her teeth, affected by my touching. "We have to focus on first period."

With that I got assertive, gritting my teeth and forcing out my next statement with all the firmness I was able to muster. "Screw first period." At that moment, my index finger arrived at the edge of her panties and she began to pant in anticipation. "We can skip it, can't we?"

"No, we can't!" She opened her mouth, wide, yet didn't seem to find my advances unwelcome. "You're kidding, right? You, who attended an entire day of school with a 103° fever, in isolation in the health room, want to skip a class."

Smirking, I nodded that indeed, I did. Then I pushed closer towards her in the seat, as far as the belt would allow me. "Gilmore..." I said softly, in a whisper. "What you did for me this weekend meant more to me than any class, any charity function could have. You let me be me, and by doing that, you worked me so damned perfectly." I nipped at her ear, then kissed the lobe as I made it clear I wasn't going back to class without having my way with her. "If we don't skip first hour, I swear to God I will take you out of second period under the guise of editorial work in the darkroom." My old personality was out to play and it was hungry for her. "So it's your choice: you fuck off a class you've pretty much aced right now, or you come to the office second period. Somehow, I know that you won't jeopardize AP Calculus for the sake of balming your itch."

I knew smugly that I was right about that. She will ditch any class she can, but as math isn't her strong suit, wanted to polish it off so the next semester she would finally be free of the stress of numbers. I played with her more as we moved forward in the drive-thru, almost to the menu board. "I know you want me, Ror. You've been itching for more touch since you got out of that shower. Tasting me on your tongue, you want more; it's like an intoxicant. We have the proper excuse, the proper needs..." I moved my hand out of her skirt, where I saw her become relieved for a moment.

At least until I applied my fingers to the catch hook holding the blue kilt onto her. She sucked in her stomach and closed her eyes, her breathing becoming even more rushed.

"We also have the proper place to do this." Staring at me, her face flared a deep red as she began to realize there was no kidding around. I slid my index pad in the space where the catch slid out. "I want you, Rory. If you don't want to, I'll be fine with that. But..." Turning around while undoing the snap keeping her in, I feigned interest in the menu board. "I'd rather that we do it now; you don't know how busy we'll get this week. Wednesday is going to be horrible, we have government on Tuesday, Thursday I come over for movie night and Friday, can't do it because of your grandparents." I was getting her there slowly and surely as we pulled to the board. "Meanwhile, you should order what you want. We wouldn't want you to wear out on an empty stomach, dear."

I reached into the back for her sweater vest, putting it between the seats to shield my teasing. I kept my eyes on her, wanting to get her warmed up as much as I could in the next ten minutes. Looking down, she thought about my proposition, unsure for a few moments.

"Look, give it some thought while we order." I took my hand out from the skirt and moved it along her arm to calm her nerves, realizing that maybe I was pressing her a little hard. Going over my words, they were mostly encouraging, but I may have come on a bit strong. I wanted to turn her on, but I didn't want to do so because I was ordering her to--it needed to be natural. "If you want to, it's fine. But if you're not receptive, I will cope." I smiled at her as the order taker welcomed me and asked what I wanted.

"I'm having a blueberry-filled jelly doughnut, and a hazelnut decaf, light sugar, soy milk." No need for the strong stuff this morning at all: I was wide awake. I asked him to read off my coffee order once again just to double-check for accuracy, though it was also to give Rory a few more seconds of thought. There was a palpable tension within the interior of the car as my rationality tried to turn things around, making me think I was in the wrong for being so overtly sexual.

You can't do this. This is going to turn into something like you'd have with Tristan. You make out, you leave. There's no relationship there. I was being dissuaded from my actual thoughts towards those I'd have if I was still not her girlfriend. Do you really think you have a relationship with her, seriously? At best lately, it's been fun, but it's not a foundation.

What was I thinking? Why, when I'm the happiest I've been in almost eight years, would I want to be self-destructive and question my heart, which was basically crying out that everything was fine? I was trying to get out of it, with every other thought in my head going towards the conclusion that this was my first step down the road of corruption and that I would never recover.

I get that thought from skipping one class!? I mean, God, Louise has spent as many as three periods in a supply closet with a guy and she seems fine. It wasn't as if I was going to knock off a gas station! I just wanted 45 more uninterrupted minutes with the girl I know more and more is my equal in everything. Did I have to doubt everything? My gaze directed towards the clock...8:01am. You can still make it.

I was frustrated. One side of me was pulling towards the developing plan while the other was pulling me hard, back to Chilton. I didn't know where to turn and I was lost in my thoughts so much that I completely missed Rory's order, tuned out over my battling ids. Any more bickering between myself and I'd need a hand drill! I tried to relax with a focal point, but good luck when the only thing directly in front of you is the dumpster box emblazoned with the Waste Management logo.

Just go to school. She's not in the mood, don't bother! I felt myself directing towards heading towards Chilton, no matter my hormones. Eight in the morning is not the time to be thinking about her sexually, so just stop. Keep your eyes straight on the road, get to Chilton, and you won't be tempted by her until 4:30!

But could I live with that? I was so into the idea of giving her pleasure that I felt bottled up with wanting to do it. But was I pushing things too fast? What happened to my pledge to Ms. Gilmore of being Ice Age slow? Surely, Rory was feeling overwhelmed that I was showing such a sexual interest in her.

It was then I found myself so buried in my thoughts that Rory was tapping me on the side, worried I was blanking out.

"Hello? Paris?" That's when I came back to reality and found the four cars in back of me blaring on their horns and the cashier reminding me of the total and to pull up to the window.

"Are you OK?" She asked with concern.

I shook myself, blinked a couple of times, and turned towards her. "I'm fine, Rory. Sorry about that, I guess I need that coffee soon." I put the car back into drive and began to pull up to the window.

"We're both a little off this morning," she surmised, looking towards my still resting hand against her thigh. "Hopefully when we get to Chilton before second period, we'll be fine."

"Yeah, it takes a little bit to work yourself back into habit after Thanksgiving break." I reached into my wallet to pull out a debit card to pay. "It's also good to change routine sometimes, but I'm just not used--"

Wait, wait, backup the conversation there, Mabel. I had to stop as I found myself again a victim of a delayed reaction. "Hold on, what were you saying?"

"That we'll be relaxed once we get to school at 8:55."

"Huh?" I was seriously confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You honestly didn't hear me?" I shook my head. "That I'm welcome to participating in your bad girl fantasy?"

I quivered as she used the 'bad girl' term, for I certainly am not that, at least in the more common parlance. I stared at her and she put her hand on top of mine. "Seriously, you get yourself too wound up on the negative. I just needed some time to think, I got it, and I want to have some fun."

I couldn't even react as, suddenly, Rory pushed my hand the remainder the way up her skirt and, hidden by the sweater, my fingers were against her sodden core. I gasped aloud as I realized just how much I was affecting her. Her eyes were hooded and she sucked in her stomach, reacting to my foreign touch. I remembered my surroundings just then however and that in a few feet, a window clerk was going to get a gander at me torturing my girl. I pulled back, despite Rory's protest.

"Par..."

I waved my finger at her in a scolding fashion. "We'll have plenty of time for that later. But I'm hungry and I'm sure you are too."

"Oh, fine." She pouted in her seat as she pushed her skirt back down. "I swear that sometimes what you do to tease me violates the Geneva Convention."

I laughed aloud as we pulled up to the window, leaving her with something to take in mind. "Oh, what I'm doing now?" After handing the card off, I kissed her, then whispered into her ear.

"Minor leagues. I'm just getting started with you, Gilmore." I pulled away, watching the brunette shudder at exactly what I have in mind for us in the future. She was probably coming to realize why I suggested the iced coffee at that point.

This is going to be fun, I thought to myself, thinking about how far we had come since I placed that phone call Thursday evening. I wouldn't have fathomed how coming out to Lorelai would have speeded things out up or made us push things along. But there's no doubt about how much we like each other anymore: it's very apparent.

I could only hope that I wouldn't regret this in the end.

To be continued...