From: nelson@eastrg1.cray.com (Christine Nelson)
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat
Subject: RFA Story
Keywords: a "not-so-romantic fire"
Date: 6 Oct 92 16:22:46 GMT


Meghan knew that this was to be "the weekend."  She and her boyfriend had been dating for almost five months, and she just knew that this weekend...this weekend she was going to lose her virginity to Paul.

Knowing this made the drive home from college that Friday evening all that much sweeter.  Meghan always looked forward to Fridays because they always brought her home to Paul, but this trip home seemed to pass in an instant.  She smiled as she drove down the highway, her windows open, the wind blowing her shoulder length blonde hair about, her blue-green eyes sparkling.

Just before she reached her parent's house, she stopped at the local liquor store and bought a bottle of champagne.  Paul didn't know it yet, but tonight night was going to be a very special one.  Very special to Meghan because she was going to give Paul something she would never be able to give another man - her first time.  Paul had never asked her outright if she was still a virgin, and Meghan thought he'd assumed she wasn't one.  That was okay, she thought, she didn't want Paul to be worrying about her







, and it somehow gave her a little more confidence knowing that Paul thought she had "experience."

Meghan pulled up into her parent's drive, noting that her mother's car was already gone.  Both her parents had chosen this weekend to go visit Meghan's grandmother in North Carolina, so Meghan had the entire house to herself.  She turned the car off and got out, stopping to pull her suitcase out of the backseat before going inside the house.

Once inside, she called Paul to let him know she was home.  Paul wasn't home from his classes yet, so she left a message on his answering machine, telling him to come over to the house whenever he got home.  

Meghan had just finished unpacking a few things when she heard a knock on the front door.  Paul!  She almost ran down the stairs to get to him.  Then, before opening the door, she smoothed her hair back into place, rubbed her lips together to freshen her pale pink lipstick, and took a deep breath.  And opened the door.

There stood Paul.  Her pulse quickened, her cheeks became slightly flushed, and those familiar butterflies were once again loosed in her stomach.  For one moment, she just looked at Paul.  His dark brown hair was slightly tousled, his hazel eyes smiled, his full lips beckoned hers, his arms opened to pull her to him, and Meghan gladly fell into them.  She wrapped her arms around his slim waist and hugged him tightly, feeling the hardness of his muscular chest pressing agianst her cheek, the light touch of 







his hand on the small of her back, and tilting her head up toward him, tasted the sweetness of his lips.

Then, she stepped back from Paul, wanting to look at him, to get her fill of the vision of him.  Paul, gazing down at Meghan, thought he'd never seen such a beautiful girl.  It was the same thought he'd had on the night they'd first met.  Some mutual friends of theirs had organized a group camping and canoeing trip which they'd both gone on.  The entire first day was spent on the water, and since he and Meghan had been in different canoes, they'd not met until the group stopped to camp for the night.  

That night, sitting next to the campfire, talking and laughing with friends, he'd seen her.  There, in the amber light of the fire, Meghan had appeared as golden, a beautiful creature made of fire herself, and when she had caught him staring at her, and smiled that small, conspiratorial smile, he felt as if he'd been set aflame.

He'd gotten up, trying to act casually, and gone over to sit near her, hoping for their chance to meet.  He had barely sat down when she'd turned to him and said, "Hi, my name's Meghan," extending her hand to him, which he'd gladly taken.

Over the course of that week, they'd gotten to know each other very well.  He'd found Meghan to be completely without artifice.  What one saw upon her surface was exactly what one got.  She was exceptionally pretty, but seemed not to realize it herself.  She was quick to laugh, and to make those around her laugh, too.  And after the first day, he quite simply adored her.

Now, standing there on her porch, his hands resting on her waist, he couldn't believe his good fortune in finding her.  Meghan, her hands on Paul's shoulders, was wondering the same thing.

Later that evening, after dinner, Meghan and Paul snuggled on the sofa together.  The tv was on, but neither of them was truly watching it.  It was getting late, and both could feel that familiar "guess we should call it a night" about to be said.  Paul sighed and stood up.  "Well...," he began.  Meghan stood, taking his hand.  They looked into each other's face, Paul thinking "time to go," and Meghan thinking "it's time."

The two walked hand in hand out of the family room, toward the front door, but instead of going to stand in front of the door, Meghan passed the door and led Paul to the foot of the stairs leading upstairs.

"Meg?  What're you doing?" he hesitated, "I think I oughtta go...it's getting late."

Meghan tried to think of something coy or playful to say, but couldn't come up with anything that would convey all she was feeling for Paul at that moment.  So, she simply said softly, her eyes looking into his, "No...I don't want you to go tonight.  Please stay here with me, Paul."

A thousand possible replies flashed through Paul's mind, but he stood frozen, unable to say a word.  She wants me to stay!  His mind repeated over and over...she wants me to stay.  He could only nod, but his tightened grip on her hand, and the wealth of emotion she saw reflected in his eyes told Meghan what Paul could not say.

She led him upstairs and down to her bedroom.  Once again, Paul hesitated, "Meghan...are you sure?"  He stood on the threshold of her room, waiting to be invited in.  

"Yes, Paul, I'm very sure."

At her bedside, she turned to Paul.  He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly to him.  Meghan could feel his entire body trembling, hear his heart beating wildly.

"Paul," she asked softly, "are you okay?"  Then she hesitated, "You don't have to stay if you don't want."  The thought of his not wanting her the way she wanted him tugged at her heart painfully, but his shaking had worried her.

"Oh God...I do want to stay...more than you know," he choked out, his voice low, husky, sounding like every word cost him great effort.  "I've envisioned this night so many times...but now, I'm suddenly afraid."  

Meghan didn't know what to say to calm his fears.  She laid the palm of her hand gently against Paul's flushed cheek, looked into his face, and said simply, "I love you, Paul."

Making love wasn't at all what she thought it was going to be like.  It was a little awkward, and for her, a little painful, but most of all, she hadn't known how incredibly intimate it would be.  How utterly vulnerable she felt to Paul, and how safe he'd made her feel at that moment.

Afterward, they both put on bathrobes (Paul borrowing her father's), and went downstairs together.  

Paul suggested, "Hey, why don't we have a fire in the fireplace?"

"Okay," Meghan agreed, "we can sit in front of the fire and share a little surprise I brought home."

Paul went to the fireplace, while Meghan went to the kitchen to get the bottle of champagne she'd put in the frig when she'd gotten home that afternoon.  She had the bottle out and was getting glasses when the downstiars began filling with smoke. 

"Hey in there," she called jokingly, "are you trying to smoke us out of the house?"

"No...I just can't get this fire started."  Paul sounded a little frustrated and embarrassed.

Suddenly, the smoke detector went off.  Meghan almost dropped the bottle and glasses she held, but managed to get them onto the counter before she ran, laughing, into the living room to open some windows.  Paul was fanning the alarm with a magazine, hoping to get some fresh air to it, and stop its ringing.

After a minute or so, the alarm shut off.  The first floor of the house was hazy with smoke as Paul walked over to Meghan.  

"God, I'm sorry Meg.  I didn't mean for that to happen," Paul said, quite embarrassed at this point.  "Some romantic wizard I am," he said, shaking his head sadly.

"Hey, don't go insulting the man I love," Meghan reprimanded kindly, and stood up on tiptoe to kiss Paul's lips.