Not many minutes later Christopher and Sam were in the bed, feeling awkward as they tried to settle comfortably. Finally Christopher propped himself on pillows leaning against the headboard and invited Sam to cozy up to him, just has she had done numerous times on his sofa at his flat. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close while his other hand reached for hers, which was resting on his chest. "So Mrs. Foyle, how are we doing so far?"

"Oh I like that," she cooed.

"Whut? Mrs. Foyle? Get used to it." He pulled her fingers to his lips and planted a soft kiss on them before tucking them against his chest again.

She was quiet for a few minutes but Christopher could sense something was coming. It wasn't long until she burrowed tighter into him and her fingers began to play over the center of his chest. At first it tickled a little but soon her play began to evoke other responses in him. "Um, probably best to limit that Sam. "

He felt her staring at him and tried not to give too much away. But he could hear her question even though she didn't speak. "Stirring mischief," he finally said as lightly as he could.

"Oh," she gasped and pulled her hand away, leaving Christopher regretting that he had said anything. "Ddon't have to pull away, just... not so playful...hmmmmm?"

Her hand went back to its resting place on his chest but he could feel the wheels turning in her head. Risking a glance down he could see her face was set in her contemplative expression, the one that usually meant trouble. "Thinking again, Sam?"

She smiled but remained quiet. "Need help?" he asked, replaying a conversation from some time ago. "Not at a crossroads," she said quietly. "Nup, s'pose not," he agreed. "So what is bothering you?"

"I... want to be able to... I don't like being afraid of...it. Not with you. Not what marriage is supposed to be like, is it?"

"Wull, I'll agree it shouldn't be about being afraid. Beyond that, I think it is whatever we decide we want it to be."

She sat up and looked straight at him, fierce determination clearly etched in her features, along with fear and anxiety. "Then show me."

"Sshow you?"

"Yes. Show me how it should be between a man and wife. Show me how to love you, Christopher."

"Mmore to it than... the act, Sam. You've already shown me love. And I hope I've been able to show you?"

"Yes, but... the rest of it. Show me the rest of it. I want us to be married, in every way."

The apprehension still in her expression worried him. What if he went too far too fast? "Nup. You show me," he countered.

"What? But I don't know..."

"Just... do what feels right... comfortable, Sam. Touch me however you wish, tell me how to touch you. I'm not the boss; you are. We'll do this your way."

"But I don't know..."

"Just... begin, Sam. That's the hardest part. The rest will come."

And begin she did, with a kiss that turned the tips of his elfin ears red. Her fingers took up their wandering again and when Christopher thought it was safe, his did a little wandering as well. Tentative at first, San quickly got into the spirit of things. Her hands wandered farther afield, exploring and discovering. Aware that his body had aged since the last time it had been used in this way, Christopher felt a little trepidation as she examined him with eyes and fingers. But she seemed to enjoy what she found, so he began to relax into the sensations she created in him. For his part, Christopher was careful not to go too fast or too far with Sam, watching for signs of uneasiness on her part. And with both of them being so careful, the build up to their physical union was slow but hardly lackluster.

A coil began to wind inside Christopher, tighter and tighter until he felt as if it might burst. And still Sam continued her investigation. She'd passed over his growing emblem of desire but was just now settling on a more detailed survey. Even a better sign, he thought, was her willingness to let him appraise her more closely, touching and caressing as he went, although he was careful not to give too close an inspection to her most secret recesses. Just as he contemplated a foray there, she gave him a little tug and then caressed his manhood so firmly that he nearly lost it. "Steady on," he gasped as he fought for control. Didn't want to frighten her nor did he want things to end early.

Her hand paused immediately and she looked up at his face in consternation. "Did I hurt you?' she asked, her voice full of concern. "Nno..." he panted, still groping to contain what very nearly happened. "Just... might've begun the fireworks a bit early," he croaked.

"Fireworks?" She was a picture of confusion.

"Wull, kind of like them anyway, when a beautiful young woman takes hold of my ... erm... Paris gun," he teased.

Her eyes widened, indeed her whole face looked surprised. "Some of the girls at the MTC said it was like fireworks sometimes..."

"Wull, would've been for me had you kept that up, Sam. Been a long time for me and ... well, it's likely to be bit explosive when it happens. "

"Oh." Her eyes were even wider but he could see curiosity winning out over fear in her expression. "What does happen... exactly? I mean, I know the... procedure but..."

"Things were getting a bit exciting, Sam? You were feeling flushed, maybe?"

"Um... yes... and a little out of control."

"Right. Tthat keeps... building until... wull, ddon't really have a good way to describe it. Bbut it's this need that builds and then... well, that's where the fireworks happen as we ... we find that moment when ... when the need is well and truly answered. Aand in that moment, ... such pleasure, joy... aand ... we'll truly feel as one."

"So that night when those men... they were trying to fill that need?" She looked puzzled.

"Nno, they just wanted... moment's pleasure perhaps or an outlet for some misguided anger. What I'm speaking of is the way it should be when a man and a woman care for one another. It's... more than just the pleasure of the act. It's... " he searched for a word but couldn't grasp one.

"Spiritual?" Sam offered.

With a quick grimace, Christopher acknowledged the suggestion. "Bit... I suppose that's the closest word. "

She studied his face, her eyes penetratingly searching. "I want that... with you," she said in almost a whisper.

His mouth folded into an upside down smile that was almost bitter sweet. All he could do was gaze back at her, the lump in his throat preventing speech. Tears gathered in his eyes making them shimmer. And in that moment, Sam knew she would have that with this man; she could do it. Reaching for him with the same reverence he'd held her earlier, she caressed his cheek and then leaned in for a kiss. In that kiss, Christopher thought Sam's worries had been resolved and the evening progressed more or less along the usual wedding night lines, with passionate kisses and caresses until Christopher thought he truly might explode if he didn't find relief. "Sam?" he whimpered, "do you think you might be ready to...erm... remove your mmm, gown?"

She tensed, her hands suddenly stilling from their wanderings over his skin. But he ached to see her, to touch her without a layer of clothing between his fingers and Sam. A memory flashed in his mind of a sketch of her bare-chested in the artist's studio. His mind was too clouded with lust to remember the man's name but he remembered very well the jealousy that had surged through him at the knowledge that the man had seen Sam in that state. Lust had also rolled through him upon seeing the promise of her splendor in that sketch.

A wiggle from Sam brought him back to the present, to the very lovely body that she was exposing to him as she tugged the gown over her head. And Christopher quickly realized that the artist had in no way been close to capturing her perfection. He drank in the sight of her, now laid bare next to him, an urgency building within him, boiling up from his groin through his torso and into his head. "Oh Sam," he whispered reverently as his lips began to worship her beauty, starting with an already hardened bud on her breast.

She gasped as he paid homage to first one and then the other of her sweet, pert mounds of pleasure and her fingers grasped at him, seeking a hold as he endeavored to take her places she had never been before. "Christopher," she gasped softly as his hands caressed the length of her torso, memorizing the shape of her, the gentle curve at her waist and the delicate curve to her hips. His mouth trailed down, following the path made by his hands until he lingered over her mound of Venus, inhaling the scent of her arousal.

He rested his head just there, where her thigh joined her torso, his senses luxuriating in everything about her. After a moment, he shifted and moved his head to her thighs just above her knees, openly staring her womanhood. He glanced beyond his point of interest to see her gaping at him, nervous and curious at the same time. "...s alright, love," he told her. "Just... investigating." Gently he raised his hand, touching her there, his finger tracing a light pattern along the crevice. And that's when he saw it. Tenderly he touched the scar that crept out from the small patch of hair that granted her a bit of privacy. Carefully opening the crevice he saw the extent of the scar and the reason for it. Sam tensed, her muscles tightening so that the pillow of her thighs became a rock beneath his head. "Ssam..."

Tears flowed from her eyes. "They... they cut me there..."

Rage tore through him as he stared at the scar, a crude attempt at initials, TL, just inside her outer lips. Fighting the bile that rose in his throat, he swallowed before attempting to speak. "Bboth oor jjust oone?"

Sam started to sob. His rage was overshadowed by concern as he scrambled to comfort her, shifting up beside her and pulling her to him. "Oh love..." he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes as well. He stroked her back and whispered his love for her and spoke of her strength and how proud he was of the progress she'd made since that horrible night. After a time, she quieted and he rolled to his back, bringing her with him, nestling her head in the crook of his shoulder. They were both quiet for awhile, exhausted from the emotional turmoil.

But finally Sam asked, "do you think I'll... we'll ever be able to get past it?" There was no need for her to explain what the 'it' was; they both knew.

Christopher grimaced, frustrated with his own inability to contain his emotions. But it seemed he was hopeless when it involved Sam. "In time... yyou've been through so much; hard to go through it all in such a short time. Bbut in time... It will begin to fade, the memory of it all. Aand I'm here Sam, no matter how long it takes."

She burrowed into him seeking the safety and comfort he hoped he could provide. He heard her mumble, "but I want it to be over."

After some time, Christopher felt her relax and realized she had fallen asleep. A tiny smirk worked at the corner of his mouth as he realized his wedding night would in no way resemble the one he had been envisioning for weeks. But they had canoodled far more than ever before and he had the pleasure of her against him with no barriers between them. And the rest would come in time; he believed that because she wanted it as much as he. In the meantime John Thomas was just going to have to behave a little while longer.

We're off on a two week vacation, so I won't be able to post next week. But I'll be back.