Lent

"Defraud ye not one the other, except it be with consent for a time, that 
ye may give yourselves to fasting and prayer."
- I Corinthians 7:5


"You really _are_ St Francis!"  Jean smiled at her boyfriend as he gently 
pulled the kitten out of the tree and handed it to the waiting child.

"There ya go, pumpkin!"  Francis turned to the love of his life.  "Not at 
all.  Just doing my Christian duty."

"You're not mocking me, are you?"

"I'd never mock you, Jean.  I can accept - even support - the faith of my 
true love."  He held out his hand.  She still looked anxious for a 
moment, but finally took his hand.  The young lovers walked on, back to 
her apartment above the clock repair shop.  

Francis held the door for her and followed her into the building.  Their 
eyes met, then they embraced and their lips met.  The young man's pulse 
quickened, and he felt his privates grow with his lust.  He stood a foot 
taller than the girl - lady; they weren't in High School any more.  'How 
could such a small package produce so great an effect?' he wondered.

Jean glanced down and gave him a satisfied look.  Then she climbed the 
stairs to her loft, swinging her hips perhaps a trifle too much as she 
went.

The clocks of the shop downstairs struck seven o'clock.  The muted, 
musical tolling was a sometime distraction, but easily ignored.  The 
young lovers ate together - leftover pizza cold from the fridge, and a 
shared bottle of merlot.  Their conversation was lost to Francis, as he 
feasted his eyes on the angel in human form that graced his life.

After the pair cleaned up - him washing their plates, her drying them - 
they settled down in the living room, not doing homework together.  Their 
books lay forgotten by the doorway; the couple lay snuggled together on 
the sofa.  The clocks chimed eight, then nine, as the two talked of 
philosophy and their hopes and their love for each other.

Suddenly, with deliberation, Jean sat up and pulled her much larger 
boyfriend to sit up too.

"What's up, Jean?"  Asked the surprised young man. 

"Well..."  Jean poured the last of the wine into their glasses.  "You 
remember what you asked last week?"

"Yes..."  Francis leaned forward, daring to hope.

"Yes."  The young lady fended off the overjoyed man with one small hand 
and handed him the wine with her other.  "I've already shared with you my 
body."  Here she slowly ran her hand down that petite, round form that 
Francis had enjoyed snuggling - and more - with.  "I will give myself to 
you fully and be yours forever.  But first, will you do something for 
me?"

"Anything, Jean."  He took her free hand in his.  "I love you!"

"I'm not making you become Catholic or anything," she gripped his hand 
tighter as she went on.  "But you said that you could support my faith.  
Did you mean that?"

"Of course!"  he nodded his sincerity.

"Would you keep Lent with me?"

Francis was nonplussed.  This was so unexpected.  "Um..." he said 
articulately.  "What?"

"Please keep Lent with me, Francis."

Francis was shocked.  He knew his lover was serious about her faith, but 
he never expected this.  He didn't know what to do, or what to say.  He 
just looked at Jean's serious expression, her dark brown eyes, so full of 
love, so vulnerable.  Already they welled with tears, ready to weep at 
his refusal.  Finally he said, "Yes, Jean.  I'll keep Lent with you."

"And I will marry you," she breathed.  Her expression held the awestruck 
joy of a small child at Christmas.  She clinked her glass against his, 
and the couple drank to their new life together.

"So," Francis began.  "Forty days without meat?"

"Nope."  His new fiancee looked at him with a mixture of shyness and 
mischief.

"What then?"  The young man asked, catching her playful mood.  "No 
homework?  No ... English Comp?"

"No sex."

Francis was shocked for the second time that night.  "No ... sex?"

"Look.  You know I love having sex with you."  Her pretty eyes still held 
him with that serious gaze.  "But this is important to me.  Giving up sex 
will show my devotion to God.  And our respect for each other."  She 
paused a second and added, "I'm in love with you, but I'm also serious 
about being Catholic."

Jean sat back.  "Do you still want me?"

In answer, Francis pulled the Jean to himself and kissed her.  He wrapped 
strong arms around her and they sat like that, melting into each other's 
arms, deeply in love with each other.  Downstairs, the clocks chimed ten 
o'clock.

"Oh!"  his fiancee started.  "We'd better get started!"

"What do you mean, lover"

"Don't you know?"  Jean was surprised.  "It's Mardi Gras; Lent starts in 
just two hours!"

"Woo-hoo!"  Francis said playfully.  "Whatta ya want to do?"

Jean stood and walked a short distance away.  She stood facing her 
fiance, arms out slightly.  "Whatever you want, love.  I'm yours to 
command."

"Show me your tits!" the young man said eagerly.

The coed slowly lifted off her blouse, revealing her treasures for her 
fiance.  She was braless, as usual, but her breasts were firm and bouncy.  
'Not too large, not too small,' thought her lover.  He picked up her 
necklace of beads and put it over her head.  The purple beads made a 
lovely frame for her bosom.  "Enchanting!"  he said.

Then Francis took Jean in his arms and kissed her.  He nibbled at her 
ears and whispered his love to her.  Locked in his embrace, the young 
lady was warm against him.  Her nipples felt hard through his shirt.  She 
looked up into his eyes, her own eyes bright with desire.  "Let's get 
naked," he said.

He let go of her, long enough for her to shuck her slacks and brightly 
colored undies, and for him to quickly shed his own clothes.  Then he 
pulled her again to him for another long, sensuous kiss.  He was hard and 
in his eagerness for her, he pulled his fiancee to the floor on top of 
their scattered clothes.  She was dewy with passion and guided him into 
her easily, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

They made love fiercely, in a frenzy born of their mutual need.  As 
Francis thrust into her, Jean would rock against him.  As his passion 
mounted she started bucking against his pelvis, actually lifting him up 
in her effort to get every bit of his member inside her.  Her almost 
sighs, almost dainty as the young man began to move in her became 
animalistic grunts as their movements increased in speed and urgency.

Jean's moans, her slamming herself hard against him with every thrust, 
her _lust_ for him, drove Francis quickly to orgasm.  As he spent himself 
inside her, the young lady again clamped her legs tightly around his 
waist.  The lay on the floor, atop the clothes, arms and legs around each 
other, as they recovered. 

"Wow!"  Francis breathed.  "You're incredible!"  

Jean smiled and kissed his nose.  They untwined from each other and 
Francis stood, still breathing heavily from their exertion.

"There's still time left," Jean said shyly.  She was still on the floor, 
and now was kneeling in front of him.  "I'm still yours, Francis."

The young man grasped his fiancee by her hair and led her mouth to his 
privates.  She needed no further instruction.  Jean sucked the head of 
his manhood into her mouth, looking up into his eyes as she easily took 
all of him into her mouth, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive flesh 
bringing him to another erection.

Still kneeling in front of him, Jean kept sucking him into her, though he 
could only go half way in.  She licked him hungrily and, still staring 
lustfully into his eyes, she nuzzled her cheek against his erect member.  
When she returned to sucking him into her mouth, repeatedly and noisily, 
she devoured him hungrily, her small fingers digging into his buttocks, 
as she held herself against him, stoking the fire of his passion to a 
fever pitch.

She suddenly stopped.  "Please Francis," she said huskily.  "Take me to 
bed and fuck me!"

Francis pulled Jean to her feet.  He would have dragged her in his haste 
to her bed, but she ran with as much eagerness.  She climbed up onto the 
brass bed and the young man jumped on her from behind.  He pushed her 
head down and her bottom up, and shoved himself into her.  Jean gasped as 
he filled her almost to her womb.

They knelt on her bed, making love with the frenzy of wolves in heat.  
Francis plunged into his fiancee forcefully, and as he did, she slammed 
herself backward to meet him.  Each thrust brought a desperate cry to 
each of them.  Suddenly Jean shook with the force of her orgasm, ramming 
herself back her fiancee's member and moaning in pleasure.

Then the young lady lay more sedately, only bucking against her fiance's 
thrusts, instead of bruising his pelvis.  Her tight, hot wetness again 
brought him off.  He ejaculated, powerfully, gasping in ecstasy.  Francis 
gasped as he pumped what was left of his seed into her waiting womb.  
Below them the clocks chimed eleven.

"Oh Francis!"  Jean breathed rapturously.

The tired young man could not reply.  He slid off her and lay on his 
back.  Jean snuggled with him for a moment, sharing his kisses and warm 
embrace.  Then she quickly slid down his body to his achy loins.

"Jean?"  Francis was surprised; they had only made love twice on one 
other occasion, and that left both of them sated.

"Don't worry, Francis," his small fiancee giggled.  "I'll be gentle."

And she was.  Jean carefully stroked his privates from head to scrotum, 
her fingers light on his sensitized flesh.  Francis was surprised at the 
young lady's lust for him, then even more surprised when he responded to 
her soft touch.  Jean then took his erection into her mouth, fitting 
about half in, and stroking the rest with her soft, gentle hands.  He 
shuddered with the intensity of her feather-light touch.

At first it was too much for Francis, but then he started moving against 
her.  Then with a satisfied smile, his fiancee stopped blowing him and 
climbed atop him.  When she impaling herself on his member, both young 
lovers gasped with pleasure.  Then she started moving up and down, 
engulfing him in her very hot, very wet pussy, keeping herself clamped 
tight around him as she lowered herself to rest on her fiance's chest.

The two lay like that, coupled, moving slowly, leisurely making love.  
Twice Jean reached between them and rubbed herself to orgasm.  Francis 
enjoyed her shuddering moans, her expression of lustful pleasure as she 
kept fucking him afterward.  Finally, painfully, the young man enjoyed a 
third orgasm.  Pleasure almost too intense to bear shot through his body 
again and again, as his fiancee quickly rubbed herself to another climax.

Jean rested atop Francis, kissing him tenderly.  As he fell into an 
exhausted sleep, his lovely fiancee finally slid his spent penis out of 
her sated pussy and they lay together, wrapped in each other's embrace.  
In the shop below them, the clocks chimed midnight.