My First Time

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2

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Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2
Next Generation Discipleship and Social Group.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject

during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in
relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of
relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the
unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical
perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity.

The group consisted of students from very conservative

Powell College, so the conversation was much what you would expect in terms of
defining physical boundaries in dating relationships, avoiding temptation,
abstaining from pre-marital sex, etc.

Emily was sitting a few chairs to my right and noticeably

fidgeted with her Bible cover while others talked about various 'Christian'
guidelines for dating. She listened politely to several volleys of points and
counterpoints before adding her own perspective to the conversation.

"Sexual purity is important, but I think we're getting

lost in legalism and missing God's larger purpose. The whole purpose of
'dating' is to find the spouse God has intended for us. That shouldn't be done
randomly or haphazardly. We should be building serious platonic friendships and
know that marriage is a very real possibility before ever going on a
date."

She continued after a slight pause, "For me personally,

I don't want to 'date'. I want to be attracted to a guy that I already love as
my best friend, and then have him 'court' me as an intentional commitment
leading to marriage."

She hesitated for an instant, then added, "I know that

sounds unromantic and clinical; and maybe I'm being naïve since I've never
dated; but I don't think there would be as much temptation if the relationship
is defined by God's larger plan."

My mental wheels started turning as Emily's comment pivoted

the group's conversation toward God's intent for marriage. Everything she said
made a lot of sense and I spent the next couple days reading the Bible and
studying everything I could find on the topic. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but
analyze our friendship, and my feelings toward her, within that newly
discovered context.

Emily’s note initiative.

The next time I saw Emily was Saturday morning when she

stopped by the hardware store to say hello. Unfortunately, there were a lot of
customers in the store and I was busy helping an older couple choose a new
mailbox. Emily waved while the couple debated between themselves whether or not
to spend the extra couple dollars for a sturdier metal box vs. a plastic one.
She wrote something on a yellow notepad by the cash register, then waved
goodbye as she walked out of the store.

The couple decided to go for the metal mailbox, which I

thought was a good decision, and then I made sure they had the mounting
hardware they would need. I went on to assist several other customers, and it
was probably an hour before I was finally able to look at Emily's note.

Beautiful flowing handwriting was perfectly aligned on the

ruled notepad and read, "Just stopped to say hi! I'll be studying at the
library this afternoon if you are free. Text me." She signed the bottom of
the note with a simple "-E" accompanied by a smiley face and her cell
phone number.

I involuntarily smiled at the sight of her smiley face and

phone number. The smiley face was just cute. The number was a welcome new step
in our friendship.

I saved her number in my phone and texted, "Sorry, I

work until 6."

I did want to see her and, on a whim, quickly hit send on a

follow-up text, "Root beer at Muggs?"

My phone chimed almost immediately, "Text me when you

are leaving the store."

Mr. Jacobs and I locked up the store at 6 o'clock and I

texted Emily shortly after to let her know I was leaving.

The local dog 'n suds type window-service stand was popular

with Powell students and townsfolk alike, and was located just a couple blocks
away from the hardware store. I was there in just a couple minutes and found
the sunny April day had given a lot of other people the same idea. I didn't see
Emily yet, but I figured I should claim a place in the ordering line.

She arrived a few minutes later, fashionably dressed in a

knee length olive-color skirt, light-tan corded sweater, medium-brown tights,
and light-tan laced-boot style heels. We greeted each other with a friendly hug
and then discussed what to order as the line crept forward.

When it was our turn at the window, Emily ordered a

chili-cheese dog, fries, and root beer. I did the same and we both paid for our
respective meals. We shuffled a few steps over to the service window and,
within seconds, received our tray of food. All the picnic tables were occupied
and we waited a few moments as a family stood up and gathered their trash.

Once seated, Emily opened her petite mouth as wide as she

could and fiercely attacked the comparatively huge chili dog. I chuckled at the
odd contrast of neatly-dressed, normally prim-and-proper Emily sitting there
with an overstuffed mouth and chili running down the back of her hand.

She facetiously reprimanded me with a mouth full of chili

dog, "Stop it! These things are hard to eat!"

After talking for more than an hour, we disposed our trash

and exited the corral of picnic tables onto the sidewalk. I didn't want our
time together to end and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

We slowly strolled side-by-side toward the Powell campus as

the sun moved lower in the sky. Remembering back to our conversation about
Haiti, I asked, "Have you made plans for the summer?"

"Yes, and I should thank you for that. I did a lot of

thinking and praying after we talked that day at the hardware store. I'm going
to stay here and volunteer at the Christian school's summer camp for special
needs children."

"That's great, but why thank me?"

"Well, I was encouraging you that God can use you in

great ways in your hometown; which I truly believe by the way; but, I think I
was actually talking more to myself that day than I was you. You made me
realize I strayed from God's calling. I chased the glamour of overseas
adventures when I should have been right here reaching people in my own
community."

She told me more about the summer camp as we slowly followed

the meandering campus pathways, and it made me happy to hear the excitement and
joy in her voice.

The topic of our summers dwindled to a close and we were

content to walk in silence, just enjoying the time together.

After a little while, Emily somewhat hesitantly asked,

"Michael; how did you feel about the NG study last week? You didn't say
anything during the discussion."

We happened to be passing a bench when she asked the question

and I gestured for us to sit down. We did, and I started talking from my heart
without giving any thought to what I was saying.

"Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into relationships

or marriage before that study. Not that I don't want to get married, I do. I'm
just so awkward around girls; er, women; you know that. Dating was never a
relevant subject for me, so let's just say there wasn't an urgent need to study
God's intent for it."

Emily started to interject, "You're;” but

truncated her comment when she realized I wasn't finished with my thought.

"I've done a lot of praying, studying and thinking

since Wednesday. While courtship isn't directly spelled out in Scripture, I
think what you said makes a lot of sense. I believe God's intent is for people
to truly know the real intellectual, emotional, and spiritual soul of the other
person, and to seek God's guidance for them as a potential spouse. I think most
of that can be done within the context of platonic friendship; without the, er;
complications; of traditional dating."

Our eyes met before I very intentionally suggested,

"Mental and physical attraction is important too, but I think everyone
knows that pretty much immediately without dating."

Emily simply replied, "Yes, I think you are right about

feeling attraction right away."

She said it with normal tone and inflection in her voice,

but her eyes gave her away. She had feelings for me, but was waiting for me as
the Christian man to be the leader of the relationship.

I was honest and a thinly veiled in my response, "This

whole idea is very new to me. I know how I feel, but I need to do a lot more
thinking and praying on the subject."

Emily smiled warmly and we resumed our walk with more

mundane topics of conversation.

Thinking and Praying.

I did do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject over

the following week. I knew how I felt about Emily, but I also knew that the
idea of courtship was a huge commitment. Did God place her in my life as my
future wife, or just as a really good friend? The last thing I wanted to do was
take that decision lightly and end up hurting Emily.

The timing was also terrible. The spring term was ending in

3 weeks and we both had geographically separate summer commitments, her at the
Christian school summer camp, and me at Burkee Hardware.

I didn't feel it was right to take the next step with her

then spend the next 3 months apart. I also didn't think it was fair to leave
her in limbo for 3 months and decided we needed to have a real conversation.

I was working at the hardware store that Friday afternoon

and sent her a text, "Are you free tonight?"

She responded a few minutes later, "Yes."

"Hardware store at 6?"

"K"

Emily arrived a couple minutes after 6 o'clock, just as I

was flipping the 'OPEN' sign in the front display window to 'CLOSED'. She
smiled and cutely waved to me through the glass as she opened the creaky screen
door. Dressed fashionably as always, she wore nicely fitting blue jeans and a
white tailored button-down blouse that was thin enough to reveal the subtle shadow
of a lace bra beneath. The outfit was smartly accented with matching black
leather ballet flats, belt, and handbag.

The screen door squeaked shut and I greeted her from the

front display platform, "Hi Emily. Would you mind closing the solid door
and flipping the lock?"

"Sure."

She did and we gave each other a brief hello-hug after I

stepped down from the platform. We sat facing each other in a couple old wood
benches next to the front counter. Emily placed her handbag on the floor next
to her, then sat rather formally on the bench with hands folded in her lap.

I had been building up courage for the conversation all day

and couldn't bring myself to make small-talk.

"I've been doing a lot of praying since we talked last

Saturday, and I would like to talk with you about it some more. I'm probably
going to stumble my way through this, so please let me get everything out
before you respond."

Emily mouthed an almost silent, "Ok," while she

sat with a concerned expression on her face and nervously fidgeting hands.

"Emily, I want you to know that you are very special to

me. From the day I met you Freshman year, I thought you were amazing. I was
just a stranger to you that day, but you overlooked my awkwardness and
genuinely cared about me as a person. And not just me, you treat everyone you
meet with that same authenticity. You are truly a gift to everyone in your
life."

My eyes began to swell with tears as I spoke, "I'm so

thankful for the time we've been able to spend together this year. You're my
best friend; and I think maybe God brought us together to be more than friends;
but I'm scared;”

Emily brushed away tears that were streaming down her

cheeks.

"I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you;”

I gathered myself for a few moments before continuing,

"I want you to know that I take any commitment to courtship, and to you,
very seriously. As much as my heart is screaming at me, I don't think it's wise
to make an emotional decision right now; or for us to start that kind of
commitment as a long-distance relationship over the summer."

We were both openly crying. "I'm so sorry Emily. I hope

you can forgive;”

She interrupted me, "Michael! These aren't sad tears.

You are the most incredible man; and my best friend. These are tears of
happiness that you have the same feelings for me as I do for you."

We both stood and organically melted into each other's arms,

my shirt absorbing her tears as she nestled her head against my chest.

Her voice was muffled by my chest when she said, "I

appreciate that you are seeking God's plan us, and not just following our
emotions. I'll be here when the time is right, no matter the answer."

I truly appreciated Emily's graciousness and patience, but

it was still a very unsatisfactory conclusion for me. I suspect it was for her too.

Unspoken Understanding.

Emily and I spent as much time together as we could before

the school year ended. In an unspoken understanding, we put aside serious
relationship topics and just enjoyed a simple, everyday friendship. One of my
best memories of that period, was when Emily stopped by the store for one of
her normal 'hello' social calls on the last Wednesday of the school year.

I had promised Mr. Jacobs that I would price a recently

received shipment of new inventory before leaving for the summer. He was
old-school, so that meant manually stickering each item with a pricing gun. I
was just starting the process when Mr. Jacobs directed Emily toward the stock
room where I was busy opening boxes.

There was a lot to do and I convinced her to help apply

pricing stickers while I focused on opening boxes and making count tallies on
the inventory sheet. I gave a quick training session on how to use the pricing
gun, then watched in amusement as her slightly OCD personality expressed itself
through the pricing gun. She would carefully verify the listed price for each
item, set the dial on the gun, then meticulously apply the stickers so they had
the same location and orientation on each item.

We worked well together and made it through most of the

boxes by closing time. I left a few items for last because they needed a
special vendor symbol added to the sticker. Rather than teaching Emily, I
dialed the symbol on the gun and quickly slapped on the stickers, much too
haphazardly for her liking.

"Hey! Give me that!"

I mischievously mocked, "What?; this???" while

holding the gun over her head.

She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by

slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker.

She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!"

I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust

the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about
$5.99."

She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably

while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms.

I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh

and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and
proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my
legs and torso.

Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the

stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us
covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and
Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought
that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing
through the building.

Separation Woes.

Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the

summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly
that summer, sharing every little detail about our days.

True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much

more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers,
acquaintances; everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships
with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two
instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ.

When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the

summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city'
restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next
larger town a half hour away.

It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation

arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I
expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able
to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation
and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger.

The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection

in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact,
they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high
school student they had hired and come to trust.

Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer

allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a
life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She
was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each
other better. And most of all; I realized what I felt was more than fleeting
attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together.

Talking to Her Father.

Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was

eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father.

The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional

family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I
knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had
short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though
formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version
of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality.

Professors were required by the college to hold open office

hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to
find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon
with a firm response of, "Come in."

I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr.

Fulton."

He started flipping through some papers on his desk and

spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses
this term?"

I felt the unconscious need to match his formality,

"No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact
you outside of office hours?"

Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned

back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?"

"It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of

getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing,
Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger
plans for us."

I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction

from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to
pursue a relationship with Emily."

"Define relationship."

"Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the

intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage."

Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have

you talked about this with Emily?"

"We talked about our growing feelings for each other

before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but
God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to
ask her tomorrow."

"Are you committed to the Biblical model of

marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"That includes being the spiritual leader in the

relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church; and
upholding her purity before marriage?"

"Yes sir."

"Very well then. You have my permission."

He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I

suspect I'll be hearing news soon."

Carnival.

That afternoon, the Christian school was holding a carnival

and then an evening talent show for all the summer camp staff and counselors,
so I knew I wouldn't see Emily that first day back in town. I spent the rest of
the day shopping for groceries, getting settled back into the hardware store
apartment, and catching up with Mr. Jacobs.

Emily texted me throughout the day, lamenting how much she

wanted to see me. I encouraged her to enjoy the day and that I looked forward
to seeing her too. Over a series of texts, we made plans to meet the next day
for lunch at Muggs.

That night, I had a vivid dream of sitting on a bench with

Emily, talking about our future, and presenting her with a beautiful diamond
tennis bracelet. I was startled awake soon after, and knew I wanted to give her
a symbol of my commitment tomorrow. A diamond tennis bracelet was far outside
of my financial reach, but I had another idea.

I padded barefoot down the stairs in the middle of the night

and began searching through the store for supplies to improvise a bracelet. I
found very fine gauge stainless-steel wire, some stainless-steel crimp
connectors, and some low-voltage electrical resistors that looked like tiny
clear glass beads. I quickly grabbed some needle-nose pliers and a few other
tools on my way back up to the apartment.

Without much conscious thought, I sat at the dining table

and my hands intuitively began weaving and scrolling the wire into an intricate
patterned cable, embedding the glass resistors at regular intervals as I
progressed. Once happy with the decorative cable, I did my best to guess at
Emily's wrist size and bent it over the edge of the table to form a C-shaped
bracelet. Finally, I trimmed the ends of the cable, then neatly folded and
crimped the wire connectors over the loose ends of the 'C'.

The process had taken all night and rays of morning sun were

streaming into the Main St. windows. It wasn't Tiffany or Cartier, but I was
pleased with the results.

Chili Dogs.

I approached Muggs, and from a half-block away, saw Emily

standing by the entrance to the picnic table corral. She was a vision of beauty
wearing white strappy sandals, a flowing pastel-pink lightweight skirt, and a
summer-weight white rib-knit top that was fitted very nicely to her feminine
curves. Of course, the outfit was properly accessorized with a stylish small
white handbag and delicate necklace hanging below the top's modest rounded
neckline.

I shouted, "Emily!"

Her face snapped toward me and she screamed,

"Michael!" as she sprinted toward me, skirt fluttering in the wind.

We met halfway and she jumped into my arms, hers wrapped

around my neck with our cheeks side-by-side, and her feet dangling against my
chins.

She whispered in my ear as we held each other tight, "I

missed you so much."

"I missed you too! I'm so happy to see you."

After a few moments, our embrace relaxed and I reluctantly

squatted so she could regain footing on the sidewalk.

We ordered our standard chili dogs, fries, and root beers

and talked non-stop while eating. Emily told me all about the camp carnival and
talent show, then we talked about the start of school and class schedules as we
concluded our meal and gathered the remaining trash.

I suggested, "It's a really nice day. Would you like to

take a walk?"

She smiled and lifted her leg to extend a delicate

sandal-covered foot from beneath her skirt, "I was hoping you would ask. I
purposely wore flats."

I laughed and we started walking and talking. We meandered

through campus and I passively steered us toward Stern Hall, which was a
beautiful Gothic-revival stone building with a meticulously maintained central
courtyard.

We walked through one of two outdoor passageways leading

into the otherwise loggia-enclosed space. Water bubbled and cascaded down a
small central fountain that was surrounded by a small circular bluestone plaza
and stone benches. Four dogwood trees filtered sunlight from above, while the
ground was covered with formally designed boxwood hedges and flower displays.

Emerging from the passageway into the garden, Emily

commented, "This place is so beautiful."

We followed a bluestone pathway toward the center of the

courtyard and sat on a bench facing the fountain, Emily crossing her legs then
smoothing the skirt over her knees.

The time had come, and I tried to settle my nerves before

speaking, "Emily, I can't even express how much I missed you this summer.
I loved talking on the phone, but it just wasn't the same as being
together."

She shook her head in agreement but knew I had more to say,

"Your friendship means the world to me Emily. You're an incredibly
beautiful woman, inside and out, and you make me a better person; heart, mind,
and spirit."

Emily's eyes welled with tears.

"I did a lot of praying over the summer, and God made

it clear; I believe His plans for us are larger than just friendship. I think
He made us for each other, to be together as husband and wife at some point in
the future."

Emily was openly sobbing in anticipation of my next words,

"I've spoken with your father, and I would like to commit to pursuing a
relationship with you beyond friendship. Will you join me in courtship?"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

I pulled the wire bracelet out of my pocket and placed it

over her wrist. "I want you to know how much you mean to me. I want you to
have this as a symbol of my commitment to you."

She ran her slender fingertips over the scrolled wire,

"It's beautiful! I've never seen anything like this before. Where did you
get it?"

I was a little ashamed to admit that I didn't have the money

to buy real jewelry and sheepishly answered, "The hardware store; kind of;
I made it from things I found around the store."

"Really? How did you make it?"

I pointed to the various hardware components and explained

how it was all woven together.

"It's beautiful and it's even more special that you

made it. I love it!"

Intimacy and Temptations.

In many ways, the start of our courtship wasn't much

different than our earlier friendship, except that we knew there was a purpose
in the end. We spent time together in the same ways we had before, at church
events and at the hardware store, but also started a weekly tradition of Sunday
dinner at her parent's house.

We did all the things that typical Powell students do,

either just the two of us or with a group of friends; hung out at Muggs, played
mini-golf, and got ice cream at the local dairy. According to prudent
conservative customs, we always spent time together in public places, or with
other people, in order to minimize potential temptations.

Our emotional intimacy grew over the next six months and we

openly expressed our affection for each other through words and small physical
gestures like holding hands, but remained devoted to our beliefs in Christian
integrity and sexual purity.

It all felt very natural, like two people growing into a

future life together.

Gifts.

In late January, I realized Valentine's Day was approaching

and decided I wanted to do something special for Emily, something more personal
than just going to a restaurant for dinner.

She wore the wire bracelet I made her every day, and I

decided that a matching necklace would be a great a Valentine's gift. The
necklace was larger and more intricate than the bracelet and I worked for about
a dozen hours over the course of a week to complete it, then wrapped it in a
small flat box.

His Offer.

I walked Emily back to her dorm, hand-in-hand, after our NG

study the following Wednesday. We talked about the study's topic of
'predestination' as we strolled along the campus pathways and eventually
approached her dorm.

Pausing before saying goodbye, I somewhat timidly probed,

"I know what I'm about to ask isn't exactly proper, but I want to do
something special for you. Would you like to come over to my apartment for a
Valentine's Day dinner? I would really like to cook for you."

I was surprised by Emily's sweetly toned response that

showed no sign of hesitation, "Yes, I would like that very much."

She pulled my head down to her level and gave me a quick

peck on the cheek before bounding into the dorm.

Making A Big Meal.

I wanted our dinner to be perfect and spent most of

Valentine's Day afternoon shopping for the meal and decorating the apartment.

Meal planning was a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to make

something truly special for Emily, but also needed it to be something I could
pull off with my limited culinary skills. While roaming the grocery store
aisles looking for inspiration, I found some frozen butternut squash ravioli
and decided I could work with that. It even had a recipe on the back of the box
for a creamy mushroom sauce with walnuts and sundried tomatoes. I returned from
the store with all the necessary ingredients, along with those for a simple
side salad.

For decorations, I scattered hundreds of red, pink, and

white cut-out hearts randomly throughout the apartment, propping them on
horizontal surfaces, taping them to the walls, and hanging them on strings from
the exposed rafters. I used similar cut-out hearts to put under the table
place-settings and serve as decorative placemats and coasters. As a finishing
touch, I sprinkled some sparkly heart-shaped confetti around a centerpiece of
red roses and a half dozen staggered-height candles.

The sauce was simmering away, and I was just finishing

assembly of a salad when my phone buzzed with a text alert, "I'm
here."

I quickly wiped my hands and typed back, "Side door is

unlocked. Please lock it and come on up."

I scurried around the apartment lighting candles and was

dimming the overhead lights when I heard the delicate clip-clap of heels coming
up the third-floor stairs. The footsteps crossed the storage area toward the
front of the building and Emily knocked on the propped-open door while
announcing her entrance, "Happy Valentine's Day!".

Her beauty radiated in the dimly lit room and I joyfully

replied, "Happy Valentine's Day!"

I watched with rapt attention as she slowly took in the

hanging forest of paper hearts, illuminated with a combination of candlelight
and the soft glow of streetlights coming through the large front windows.

The bottom hemline of a bright red, knee-length skirt drew

my attention as it billowed from underneath a chic hip-length black pea coat.
The heavily textured lace skirt contrasted against the smooth lines of her
black-nylon covered calves and black ankle strap pumps.

After a few moments, Emily remarked with a wondrous tone,

"Michael, this is amazing. It's beautiful."

My social awkwardness momentarily returned with the vision

of this beautiful woman standing in my apartment, and I cheesily responded,
"Not as amazing and beautiful as you."

Emily blushed and presented me a red greeting card envelope,

which I set down on the counter while offering to take her coat. I stood behind
her and held the lapels of the coat as she shed it over her shoulders. The coat
slid downward and revealed a black long-sleeve corded sweater that nicely
hugged the slender curves of her torso and arms.

I placed her coat on a hook by the door and said, "Make

yourself at home. I just need to finish the pasta, so dinner should be ready in
about 10 minutes."

I dropped the ravioli in boiling water as Emily slowly

clip-clapped around the small apartment observing the standard furnishings as
well as the Valentine's decorations. She would pause occasionally to look at
something then move on to something else, until she arrived at the front
windows and looked down to the street below.

I approached her silhouetted shape from behind and

commented, "I know the apartment isn't much, but it has a good view."

She guided my arms to embrace her from behind, then leaned

backwards into me, "I don't care about the apartment. I just care that you
are here. But, yes, it is a nice view."

The loud buzz of the kitchen timer disrupted our moment and

I excused myself to finish the pasta. I drained the ravioli and tossed it into
the simmering sauce before plating and garnishing with sprinkles of walnuts,
sundried tomatoes, and shreds of fresh basil.

We talked and ate like we had so many times before, but it

felt so much more intimate being in my apartment. Emily's natural beauty was
softly highlighted by the flickering candlelight, and she was captivating. I
was simply absorbed by her presence, enjoying the way she delicately grasped
the fork between her neatly manicured fingers, the way her expressions radiated
pure innocent joy when she laughed, and the way she tilted her head to gently
sweep errant wisps of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear.

Our bites slowed after a while and we focused more on the

conversation than eating. Growing uncomfortable in the hard dining chairs, I shifted
in my seat and suggested, "Let's go sit on the sofa."

We both stood and I said, "I'll be right there" as

I snuffed the centerpiece candles and deposited a few dirty dishes in the
kitchen sink.

Emily sat on the sofa and smoothed the skirt hem over her

knees as I grabbed her greeting card off the counter, along with my wrapped
gift for her. I was taken by the moment as I sat next to her and looked into
her eyes.

"I love you Emily."

Her eyes glistened with moisture as she softly replied,

"I love you too."

We looked into each other's eyes for a few short seconds

before we intuitively closed the distance between us, our lips briefly coming
together for the first time. The tentative close-lipped meeting was very chaste
by secular standards, but altogether thrilling for two people who had never
experienced a romantic kiss.

We continued gazing into each other's eyes and came together

again for a second short kiss. I knew we were crossing a fairly mild, yet very
distinct line within conservative Christian standards for sexual purity, and a
small internal struggle began developing within me. I used the most obvious
available distraction and offered Emily the wrapped gift in my hands.

She carefully unwrapped the flat-shaped box, neatly running

a finger beneath the tape to not tear the wrapping paper. Once removed, she
slowly lifted the lid to reveal the wire necklace showcased in a bedding of
tissue paper.

"Oh, Michael!" she exclaimed as she swept her

sweater sleeve up her arm to compare the C-bracelet with the new necklace.

"It's gorgeous! Help me put it on!"

Emily turned her back to me and pulled her shoulder-length

bob away from her neck. I reached to place the necklace around her neck and
hook the clasp, the back of my fingers gently brushing against her luxuriously
soft skin. The touch was new and exhilarating, and she made no move to release
her suspended hair as my fingers smoothed the necklace more than was necessary
around the nape of her neck.

Coming to back to reality, I pulled my hands away from her

neck and Emily dropped her hair back into place as she turned to face me again.

She looked at me with a depth in her eyes that I had never

seen before, "I absolutely love it, Michael. Thank you." Then she put
her hand on my chest and moved the full distance between us to press her lips
against mine.

My internal struggle must have been felt through my lips.

Emily pulled back from the kiss, our faces inches apart, and said, "It's
Valentine's Day, maybe we can give ourselves a little leniency."

That's all it took to overcome my weakened will, and I

tilted my head forward for our lips to meet again. We spent the next hour
facing each other side-by-side on the sofa, talking occasionally, but mostly
staring into each other's eyes and softly kissing.

Failures of Carnality.

The next week was no different than normal, except that

Emily wore the new necklace every day, carefully selecting outfits with
necklines complementary to the loop of woven wire. We went about our normal
routines and spent time together in public places, simply holding hands or
quickly joining for an innocent goodbye hug. The kisses we shared on
Valentine's Day were never mentioned and I assumed we both wanted to repress
our lapse of judgement.

Emily texted me the following Thursday afternoon, "Are

you home tonight? I want to drop something off."

I replied, "Yes" then had a spur-of-the-moment

thought and typed, "Want to have dinner here?"

"Sure!"

"Any time after 6 is fine."

"B there at 7."

"Side door will be unlocked. Lock it when you come

in."

"Okay"

Mr. Jacobs and I closed the store, then did some

miscellaneous cleanup until about 6:30. He left for home and I headed upstairs
to figure out what I could make for dinner. It wasn't nearly as sophisticated
as the butternut squash ravioli, but I managed to cobble together a sautéed
chicken entree and respectable salad from ingredients already in the
refrigerator.

I was just finishing the chicken when Emily knocked on the

doorframe and hung her winter coat on the hook by the door.

"Hi Emily. Perfect timing, I was just finishing

dinner."

She joined me in the kitchen, wearing designer sneakers,

ankle-cut blue jeans, and a pink oxford button-down shirt that was opened
enough to modestly showcase her wire necklace. It was a very casual look for
her, yet the outfit was still much more deliberate and fashionable than that of
the typical college student.

She replied, "Hi Michael" and tugged at my

shoulder until I bent over for her to kiss my cheek.

We ate dinner and enjoyed conversation about a variety of

random topics. After dinner, she gave me a little box of homemade cookies from
her mother and we sat on the sofa to each have one. I could tell Emily was
thinking about something as we finished the cookies.

"What's on your mind?"

"Being here; and having dinner with you reminds me of Valentine's

Day."

She paused briefly before adding, "I liked that night a

lot" and leaned forward to press her lips against mine.

Still sitting side-by-side on the sofa, we both turned to

face each other more directly and came together for another kiss, then another,
and another. With our legs toward each other, my hands softly caressed her
jean-covered knees, while hers rested on the top of my forearms and gently
encouraged my movements. Our lips began loosening, and rather chaste closed-lip
pecks progressed into more freely affectionate open-mouth kisses.

We occasionally separated to silently look into each other's

eyes before coming back together again. Each time, our breathing became
heavier, the fair skin of Emily's face and neck became more flush, and the
blood flow to certain parts of my body became more plentiful.

After a while, Emily's phone chimed with a text message and

she reached to pull it from her back jeans pocket.

"Ugh, I'm supposed to study with Jennifer tonight for

our Child Psychology test. I better get going."

Emily used outstretched fingers to fluff her hair, then

rubbed her neck and cheeks as if to redistribute her flushed color.

"Thank you for dinner; and everything; tonight."

We shared a few more reserved kisses before I answered,

"You're welcome" and we said our goodbyes.

Rationalizations.

Our relationship held to its normal public decency over the

next few days, including during church and Sunday afternoon at her parents'
house. Again, there was no mention of our illicit activity and I once again
assumed that she wanted to overlook the indiscretion and move on.

I knew I was wrong when a text message popped up on my phone

Monday afternoon, "Can I drop off some of my mom's cookies tonight?"

I answered, "I'll have dinner ready at 7. Lock the door

on your way in."

She arrived just a few minutes before 7 o'clock wearing a

smartly put together jeans and white button-down shirt outfit, of course neatly
accessorized, as always.

I did make dinner, but we both knew it was only a weak

excuse for our consciences to somehow justify being alone together in my
apartment. We ate and talked at a less leisurely pace than we had on previous
occasions, and quickly moved to the sofa.

When we sat facing each other, Emily musically feigned,

"Umm, I do love your Valentine's Day dinners."

Our first kiss of the night was a confident and hungry

joining of our mouths. Those that followed were no less urgent, but were
hindered by our awkward side-by-side position on the sofa. Frustrated, Emily
put both her hands on my chest and playfully pushed me backward so I was
sitting in a slouched position. Her petite body climbed over mine to face me,
sitting straddled on my left thigh.

My eyes locked on hers as we both breathed heavily and she

rationalized, "This might be easier."

Her loose-fitting button-down shirt gaped open as she leaned

forward to resume kissing, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of
her flushed chest and lacy white bra.

I agreed, "Definitely better" as her arms wrapped

around my neck and we playfully rubbed noses before joining our mouths again.
My arms embraced her tiny body and held her close as we kissed, occasionally
swapping the interlock of our faces from one side to the other.

The new level of passion was having an effect, and my

growing member was painfully pinched in my jeans. I removed a hand from her
back and tried to subtly pull on the crotch of my jeans to gain some
much-needed space. Unsuccessful with the subtle approach, I began tugging
harder and drew Emily's attention.

She pulled away from our kissing and asked in a genuinely

concerned voice, "Am I hurting you?"

Somewhat embarrassed, I replied, "No; no. I just need

to adjust how I'm sitting a little."

Emily sat up and curiously looked down as I pulled on my

jeans and coaxed the underlying bulge to one side.

Now fully understanding what I meant, she let out an

enlightened "Oh;” before replacing her arms around my neck and
resuming our kisses.

My hands caressed her back and lightly traced the graceful

shape of her petite shirt-covered body, my fingers' smooth motions only
interrupted as they traversed the unnatural feel of bra straps.

Still straddling my leg, Emily's hips began making

ever-so-subtle motions as we kissed. My hands couldn't sense the movement as I
caressed her back, but I could faintly feel the repeated shifting of her weight
on my thigh.

I was emboldened by the sensation, and mischievously flicked

the tip of my tongue against her upper lip as we kissed. She responded in-kind
and our tongues were soon dancing in and out of each other's mouths, our faces
pressing harder together in a desperate attempt for deeper and deeper kisses.

As our shared arousal built to a new high, we were once

again startled from our rocketing passion by a chiming cell phone. This time it
was mine, which was sitting on the arm of the sofa. I didn't intend to answer
it, but we both subconsciously realized the interruption was probably for the
best.

Emily rolled off me to sit on the sofa and said, "Go

ahead. It might be important."

I held up the phone for her to see that Mr. Jacobs showed on

the caller ID, then hit the speakerphone button.

"Hi Mr. Jacobs."

"Hi Mike. Sorry to bother you. I was just realizing

that I don't think we locked the side door tonight. Could you please check
it?"

I think Emily and I both twinged a little, knowing I left it

unlocked to facilitate our sin. I simply answered, "I know it's locked. No
worries."

To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

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