Author's Notes: More of the same, only different.
Thanks to insanity_keeps_things_fun for graciously allowing me to use their line.
I think I should take a moment now to acknowledge my debt to the movie Before Sunrise. It was an unconscious influence on a previous non-Sex Ed story which became a conscious influence when I realized what I was doing.
Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy meet on a train and must part at sunrise and we follow them as they wander around Vienna sharing their thoughts and feelings on life and love and more.
It's a beautiful movie and every time I now sit down to write I try to capture a little of the magic it created just by allowing us to watch two people talking. Sometimes I think I even succeed a little.
Chapter 19
Otis stood against the bench in the kitchen and took Maeve's bra from between the two towels he had been using to gently remove the excess water.
He heard soft footsteps pattering across the kitchen floor and looked up to see Maeve walking toward him, still naked, still gorgeous.
She placed her cigarette pack and lighter on the bench and studied him gently.
"You do realise people could see you from the road?" he asked.
"If there were any pervs up there, it was too dark to see much anyway."
"Not if they had night vision glasses."
"You seem to know a lot about the mechanics of perving."
"I'm just saying—" Otis began, flustered.
Maeve sighed contentedly. "Oh, thank god."
"What?"
Maeve pressed against his back and put her arms around his waist and leaned her head against him. "I thought Sexy Otis was going to completely replace Cute Otis."
"Am I allowed to call you Sexy Maeve?" Otis asked, a smile in his voice.
"That's objectification," Maeve murmured.
"Gorgeous Maeve?"
"I'll think about it."
Otis put the bra next to Maeve's pants and said, "They're done."
"You really do pay attention."
"Aren't you glad I do?"
"Very," she sighed.
"We should wash my shirt."
"I'll get it in a minute."
"May as well wash everything. We'll go upstairs soon."
Silence settled over them for a while.
"How are you feeling now?" she eventually murmured.
"Good," said Otis, quietly.
"It didn't really hit you at first, did it?"
"Not until you were taking your top out of the machine."
"It's okay to cry, Otis," she said, gently.
"What did you call it this morning?" he asked, softly.
"Post-coital tristesse."
"It felt completely different."
"How?"
"I felt sad but I also felt… happy."
"Is there a word for that?"
"You're the writer."
"I haven't swallowed a dictionary."
"Maybe in another language."
"Relief?" Maeve suggested, softly.
Otis was silent for a moment, trying as best he could to take his emotional temperature. "It feels more than that."
"Maybe your mom will know something."
"I had to buy her a thesaurus, remember?"
Maeve smiled gently to herself at the smile in his voice.
"Maybe we can just call it happysad," she said and lifted her head and kissed his shoulder then stepped back.
He turned to face her and gazed gently into her eyes.
She stepped forward and they wrapped their arms around each other, lips meeting in a tender kiss.
When the kiss was over, he said quietly, "I don't regret it, Maeve. It was really good. I just…" His voice tailed off into silence and a frustrated look drifted across his face.
"I told you it's not how good or bad the sex was," Maeve said, reassuringly. "It happens."
"The thing is, I feel okay now."
"That can happen, too."
She could see he didn't understand and she reached for a memory.
"I once bawled my eyes out for fifteen minutes then half an hour later I was laughing and giggling with Aimee," she said. "No, I wasn't," she corrected herself. "I never giggle."
"Of course you don't," Otis murmured.
"The guy I was with fucked off. Thought I was a psycho."
"You aren't?"
Maeve poked her tongue at him then winced at herself. "Sorry," she said.
"What for?"
"I shouldn't mention other guys while we're naked together."
"I don't mind," Otis said quietly.
"I do."
Otis gazed tenderly at her.
"Just try to accept it can happen and it doesn't mean anything more than the moment," she said, hoping he could hear her.
Otis was silent for several moments then said, "Maybe it was relief. And regret."
"Regretting what?"
"All the time I wasted. Not dealing. Keeping it hidden. Not even telling my best friend. Maybe if I'd dealt with my shit I would have been able to let you kiss me in the pool. Maybe I wouldn't have been able to hurt you."
Maeve gazed at him tenderly and reached up and gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Maybe we needed to go through that shit to get here. So we could know we're serious."
"Do you really believe that?" Otis asked.
"I don't know," Maeve said.
Maeve leant against the balcony railing and watched Otis hang her bra and pants on the line next to her striped top. Even as a silhouette, she could see how nervous he was.
"Nobody's going to see us," she said.
"Anybody could be watching," he protested. "It's not that dark."
"They won't know we're starkers."
"I'll turn the kitchen light off."
"Leave it," Maeve said quietly.
Otis was torn between turning the kitchen light off and listening to her then he made his decision and walked over to her, looking around nervously.
"Just relax, muppet," Maeve said.
"Are you an exhibitionist, Maeve?"
"Yeah, I walk around the caravan park like this all the time. I've got a real fan club. Jeffrey's the president."
Otis sighed, resigning himself.
"I just like the feel of the night air. Haven't done it in a while," she murmured.
"You've done this before?"
"I've had sex outside."
"Isn't that illegal?" Otis asked, concerned.
"Only if you get caught."
"I don't think I would feel comfortable doing that," he murmured.
"Two and a half days ago, did you think you'd feel comfortable doing what we did tonight?" she asked.
"No," said Otis after a pause.
"Just choose an isolated spot. It's fine."
"Like behind the bus stop?"
"Nobody would have seen us."
"Have you done it there?" he asked, cautiously.
"No."
"Where have you done it?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"You know those trees the other side of Fenwick Oval?"
"People kick balls into there all the time," Otis protested.
"I don't do it while people are playing," she said, scrunching her face.
Otis turned and gazed into the darkness, pondering.
"You can't see it now," he began, "but dad put up a bench and table right down there. So we could just sit and have a picnic and watch people in boats on the river. Haven't been down there for a while but there's a little inlet off to the left. Can barely see the entrance from the river. That would be a good spot."
"I wouldn't ask you to do it if you're not comfortable," Maeve said.
"Maybe we could try it," he said, tentatively. "You said you wished we could have done it in the pool. Be kind of like doing it in the pool."
Maeve smiled fondly at him. "You really love pushing yourself," she murmured.
"It's worked so far," he said.
"Except for that one blip."
Otis nodded acknowledgement. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"It didn't kill us."
"Do you think it made us stronger?"
Maeve didn't feel that question needed an answer.
Maeve and Otis sat at the balcony table. Maeve ashed into a sea-shell and watched Otis in the half-light from the kitchen.
"I'm normally so cautious," he said. "I think and re-think and plan and re-plan almost everything and even then I sometimes bail. Eric would get very frustrated with me. And if things go wrong I retreat into the corner and it normally takes Eric a long time to get me to come out."
Maeve blew smoke into the air and simply watched him.
"I'm not like this," he said in soft wonderment.
"It seems you are," Maeve murmured.
"I wanted to be. I never thought I could be. I'm not spontaneous. I don't like being out of control."
"You've been amazing."
"It was the dancing," he said. "I had never felt so… alive. And when you let me touch you again… it was like..."
"You had a rush of blood to the head?"
"More like a rush of blood from one head to the other."
"So, thinking with the smaller head isn't always bad," she murmured with a smile.
They were silent for a moment.
"Did I tell you I wanked about you after you sent the text?" he eventually asked.
"Not specifically, but I guessed."
"And the next morning."
"Last person you thought about before you fell asleep, first person you thought about when you woke up," Maeve murmured, soft smile in her voice.
"And all the moments in between," Otis said softly.
"It sounds familiar," she said quietly to herself.
"It was like I hadn't been really alive until I felt the combination of all those things and I wanted to get away from all that other shit."
"Here I've been thinking it's because I'm so unresistingly desirable," she smirked.
"Oh, Maeve, you are. That's not—" Otis protested.
"I'm fucking with you, Otis. It's both," she said. "Running to and from."
"It was you, specifically, Maeve. I could never have been like this with Ola."
Maeve pursed her lips. "I'll let it go because you're inexperienced but don't mention another woman you dated while we're naked together."
"Sorry."
She shrugged. "Over it."
"I just wanted to have different memories," he said quietly.
"You want to keep running tonight, don't you?" she asked softly.
"Do you think we should?"
"Do you want to? Forget everything else. Do you want to?"
"Yes," Otis said quietly. "I'm just worried after how I reacted earlier."
"I told you. It was a moment. Let it be a moment. Don't bring it into now."
Maeve leant against the balcony railing and Otis' fingers were again inside her, bringing her to the boil while her hand stroked his penis, her palm across his ridge and around his tip the most beautiful sensation he had ever felt.
She felt his breath flow across her ear and wondered momentarily why she always found that so erotic and then she felt her knees trembling and knew she was going to explode and as she groaned a long, constricted "fuuuuck" she released his hard-on and crested around him again and then his fingers were still working on her and she was cresting again and as he kept stroking her girl button it was more than she could bear and she pushed her hand down against his hand and crested again as his fingers withdrew and then she was collapsing against him, body trembling, and as another orgasm washed through her she knew that she had again mewled like a baby lion.
Maeve lay snuggled against Otis on the lounge, watching her fingers gently stroking the length of him.
"I'm not like this either," she murmured. "I told you, you've been making me feel so relaxed."
"Even with—" Otis began.
"In a bigger sense, muppet," she said, looking up at him while still stroking. "You make me feel… like for a little while I can forget the shit. I mean, the shit'll still be there tomorrow and the next day but… right now… I don't need to think about it."
"If there's anything I can do to help," Otis murmured.
"I don't want charity, Otis," Maeve said, firmly.
"I'm not offering, but…"
Maeve turned her attention back to his penis, running her thumb along his ridge, smiling to herself at his positive reaction before returning to gently stroking his shaft.
"I appreciate it, muppet, but I need to figure out certain things for myself," she said.
"Are they likely to give you more hours?"
"Doubt it. This was last minute and if they had anyone cheaper they would have gone for them."
"Is there anything else you think you could go for?"
Maeve smiled up at him. "I'm stroking your cock and you're thinking of jobs for me. I'm obviously not very good if you can be that distracted."
"Sorry," Otis said, sheepishly.
"Do you want me to finish you?"
"I'm… liking you doing this. Is that weird? That I don't want to finish yet?"
"Not weird. Compellingly odd," Maeve smirked.
She gripped his tip and ran her palm back and forth along his ridge and smiled at his hissing intake of breath before returning to stroking his shaft again.
"Do you still want to taste me?" she asked, quietly.
"We don't have to," Otis said. "Just what we've been doing is okay for tonight."
Maeve sighed and rolled her eyes. "It's okay to want more."
When he didn't respond, she looked up at him.
"Can I kiss Jawbreaker?" she asked quietly.
"Do you really want to?" Otis asked, uncertain.
"No, I want to bite it," she softly snapped. "I'm hungry again."
Otis pressed his lips together, apologetically.
Maeve sighed and leaned closer to him, kissing him gently on the lips.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's okay. Don't have to tonight."
Otis was quiet for a moment then sighed. "I do want to taste you, Maeve, but I'm uncomfortable with…"
"The power dynamic? The culturally-accepted idea that guys are entitled to blowjobs and girls just have to get down on their knees and deliver? The idea that girls are slags if they do and worse than slags if they're good at it?"
"I don't think—" protested Otis.
"I know you don't, muppet. I'm asking if you seem to think that wanting a blowjob means you're buying into that bullshit?"
Otis couldn't find the words to answer.
"Sorry. Maybe that's too heavy a conversation for tonight," Maeve murmured.
"Maybe after I talk to someone," Otis said, quietly.
Maeve nodded and turned her attention back to stroking him.
"If you want to finish me," he murmured then hissed as Maeve squeezed him and stroked her thumb across his blowhole.
Otis put two plates with cheesecake on the kitchen table and sat down beside Maeve.
"We were ten," she said as she picked up her spoon. "She just moved here and straightaway she was part of the Untouchables. Because of her dad. When they told her she couldn't hang around with me she said 'fuck it' and asked me if we could still hang out without them knowing. I didn't mind that much. She was so friendly and sweet."
Otis picked up his spoon and slowly began to eat, watching Maeve all the while.
"I had a couple of other girls I did hang around with. Claire Tyler. Patti Briskette," Maeve continued between bites of cheesecake. "But even then I knew I was a reject among rejects. It was starting to not bother me."
Otis took in a slow breath and gazed at her tenderly.
"You look at me with pity, Milburn, and I'll plonk myself on it and I don't care how much you panic."
"You have interesting ways of threatening me," Otis said with a gentle smile.
"Well, I don't want to poke your eyes out. They're too beautiful."
Otis smiled briefly, then asked, genuinely curious. "Why would you be a reject at that age? That was before Simon Furthassle."
"You really never heard anything about me?"
"I wasn't exactly popular either. I was just that weird kid in the corner who saw you around occasionally. Didn't hear much. Didn't think about you much until that day," he admitted.
Maeve nodded, pondering, then said, "People knew I was Erin's daughter. Sean's sister. Blood tells, don't you know?"
"People suck," Otis said, bitterly.
"I think that's why Groff has always had it out for me."
"Groff can go fuck a cactus," snarled Otis.
Maeve smiled at him tenderly. "A prick with a prick full of pricks. Yeah, that'd be good."
"I don't know why he's still the principal. No wonder Adam is as fucked as he is."
"Aimee says Adam can be really sweet when nobody's watching."
"I wish he'd let that side of himself be seen in public."
"He still picking on Eric?" Maeve asked.
"Eric hasn't said anything about Adam lately, so he mustn't be."
Maeve pondered for a moment then sighed. "I think me and Adam have that in common. Take our shit out on other people."
"I don't think it's like that at all," Otis said, earnestly. "Adam goes out of his way to pick on people. From what I've seen, you only ever respond in the moment when people intersect with you."
Maeve lowered her gaze, smiling to herself. "You go on thinking that."
"Of course, sometimes you might hit the wrong target but nobody's aim is perfect," Otis said, blandly.
Maeve sat on one of the chairs beside the balcony table, legs stretched onto another. Otis sat at the end of the table, legs stretched out beneath it, gently gazing at her.
"We were slow-dancing," Maeve said. "At the school dance. There was no Liam, no Sean, no… alternative dates. Just us."
"You mean we were the only ones there?"
"The other kids were there. But they were just background. The band was there."
"What were they playing?"
Maeve shrugged. "I don't know. One of their songs."
"What was their slow song?" Otis asked, trying to jog his memory.
"Are you going to let me tell you this?" Maeve snapped, not too harshly.
"Sorry," Otis said, subdued.
"It was their slow song. Must have been, if we were slow dancing."
"I could get their album and check."
Maeve picked up a long-dead butt from the sea-shell and flung it at him, hitting him in the chest. She smiled gently to herself at his yelp of surprise.
"Sorry," he said.
"Fucking hell, Milburn."
Otis kept quiet.
"We were dancing. Slow-dancing. Whatever song it was," Maeve continued.
Otis watched her face in the soft half-light from the kitchen, wishing he was an artist so he could capture this moment.
"And then we were in the centre of the dance floor and a spotlight was on us and all the other kids were just hanging back, watching us."
"Sounds nice," Otis murmured.
"It was."
"Were you in the same dress?"
Maeve nodded. "And you were Casual Hamm."
"You looked so gorgeous, Maeve."
"You were pretty spiff yourself, Milburn."
"What happened next?"
"We were just dancing-" She changed her tone. "-gazing deeply into each other's eyes-" She resumed her normal tone. "—and then the song changed. What was that old dancing movie? Mum used to love it. The guy from Pulp Fiction when he was young and hot?"
"Oh," said Otis, recognising it, trying to remember, remembering. "Saturday Night Fever. John Travolta. Mum loves it, too."
"That's it. The band started playing one of the songs from that and you started doing all these John Travolta moves." She waved her arms in a vague approximation of the moves she remembered.
"Why would I be dancing like John Travolta in your dream?" Otis asked, confused.
"I don't fucking know," Maeve snapped. "Why did Kermit The Frog want to fuck me?"
"What?" asked Otis, startled.
"It was a fucking weird dream," she said dismissively.
"You have to tell me," Otis almost begged.
"Do you want to hear about my dream last night or do you want to hear about Kermit The Frog's penis?"
"Kermit The Frog's penis," Otis said.
"Fuck off," Maeve laughed.
"I didn't even know he had a penis," Otis said, grinning in incredulity.
"I bet you didn't know Miss Piggy has a vagina, either. And I don't know what the fuck that thing Gonzo had was."
"You have to tell me."
"Not tonight."
Otis let out a mock-disappointed 'awww'.
"I'm trying to tell you about my sexy dream about us and you just want to hear about me having sex with a muppet," Maeve said, mock-annoyed.
"I am your cookie monster," Otis said plaintively.
Maeve was quiet for a moment. "That's different," she said, tersely.
"I'm sorry," Otis said, laughing softly. "Go on."
"You've spoilt it now," Maeve said, mock-petulantly.
"I was doing all these John Travolta moves…" Otis urged her to continue.
Maeve was quiet for a moment then said, "You were. Just… all around the dance floor. You were so sexy. God, you were sexy," she breathed.
Otis wished the kitchen light was a little brighter on her face.
"And then you did a thing with your jacket where you just somehow took it off and flung it away. All in one movement. It was so impressive. I was getting wet."
"In the dream?" Otis asked.
"In real life, too. I knew that when I woke up."
"Women can have wet dreams, too," Otis murmured.
"I found that out these last few months. You're very educational, Milburn."
Otis smiled gently at her. "What happened next?"
"I remember Eric catching the jacket and then everyone was gone. The music was still playing but the kids were gone and the band was gone and it was just us."
"Still dancing?"
"Still dancing," Maeve said. "You did a few more of those—" She mimed a few Travolta moves. "And then you just stood in front of me and you reached up and just touched the shoulders of my dress and pfff, it's on the floor."
"Were you naked?" Otis quietly asked.
"I had pants on," Maeve said, then reconsidered. "No, knickers. Lacy knickers."
Otis was puzzled. "What's the difference?"
"Pants are practical. Knickers are more… decorative."
"Oh, well, then you were definitely wearing knickers in my dream."
Maeve smiled gently.
"Did I take them off you?" Otis asked quietly.
"Mmm-mmm," Maeve confirmed. "You just reached out, put your fingers in the band and pulled—" she mimed the movement. "—and they were off me. You didn't tear them off me. They were just off me. Like they were supposed to break apart."
Otis took in a deep breath.
"And then you took my hand, made me do a few twirls. You know?" She raised her hand and twirled her finger. "And then you told me to grab your tie."
"Is that a euphemism?" Otis asked, scrunching his face.
"Nup. Grab your tie and pull and I did and foomp. Everything's on the floor. Even your shoes and socks were gone. So were my shoes."
"Was I wearing boxers or briefs?"
"Full commando," Maeve said, smirking.
"I never go full commando."
"It's my dream. You'll go full commando if I tell you to."
"Was I…?" Otis began to ask, tentatively.
"Full on. Hard as. Pointing to the sky."
"I'm pointing to the sky right now," Otis murmured.
Maeve smirked gently then moved her head slightly as if to look under the table at him.
"What did we do next?" Otis asked.
"We danced a little more. Twirls. Like we did up in your room. Did that one where you twirl me out and back in and you're embracing me from behind."
"What's that one called?"
"Dunno."
"What next?"
Maeve was quiet for a moment. "How much detail do you want?" she asked quietly.
Otis was quiet for a moment. "Details," he said softly.
Maeve nodded. "We did a few more twirls and then you grabbed me here-" She put her hands just under her breasts. "—and you lifted me up." She raised her hands up. "You were twirling your thumbs around my headlights," Maeve continued.
"Headlights," Otis murmured, shaking his head.
"Full high beam," Maeve said proudly.
"What happened then?"
"You swung me to the left and to the right and then you brought me down," Maeve said softly. "Foomp. Right onto it."
She could hear him release a long breath.
"Then… well, you know what happens then…" she said quietly.
They were silent for a few moments then Otis said, "I don't think I'd be strong enough to do that."
"Put me up against a wall, you never know," Maeve said, soft smirk in her tone.
"Have you done that before?"
"I don't think that's the sort of question you should ask, Otis," Maeve said gently.
"Sorry," he said softly.
"You'll learn the no-go areas," she said quietly.
"Sorry," he repeated.
Maeve put out her cigarette in the sea-shell and studied Otis.
"Do you think you need to talk to someone before tasting me?" she asked softly.
Otis stared at her for a moment then murmured, "No."
"Okay," she said, standing up and patting the table. "Is this table strong enough?"
"I think so," Otis said softly, standing and pushing his chair back a little.
Maeve stared softly at his arousal in the half-light from the kitchen then stepped to him, wrapping her hand around him as she reached up to kiss him.
"I don't need you to earn a blowjob by going down on me first," she murmured.
"You don't have to, Maeve. Don't do it for me."
"It's not just for you. I have an idea I may enjoy it," she smirked and released him and moved backward toward the end of the table.
"If the table tilts," she said, "catch me."
"It shouldn't. It's pretty stable."
Maeve slowly perched herself on the end of the table, relaxing when it didn't tilt and spreading her legs.
Otis reached behind himself, grabbed the cushion from the chair and dropped it at his feet.
Maeve smiled. "You already know comfort is the most important thing," she murmured.
Otis dropped to his knees on the cushion then gazed at her clit and little labs for a moment. They really did look beautiful.
"Take it as slowly as you need," Maeve murmured.
He took in a gentle breath and used his thumbs to part her pink shutters before leaning forward, releasing his tongue and slowly running it the length of her little labs before flicking her love button.
Maeve drew in a gasping breath at the pleasure and gently stroked Otis' hair as his tongue moved back down to lick her flaps.
"Vanilla or strawberry?" she reminded herself to ask.
He raised his head from her and looked into her eyes and said, "Maeve."
She smiled as he dropped his head again and flicked his tongue across her clit before once again moving to her shutters. When he gently poked it against her entrance, she gave a soft moan.
She closed her eyes, leant her head back.
"Is this feeling good?" she heard him ask.
"Feels real good," she murmured and then was pleased as he returned his tongue to her.
Truthfully, he was clearly a little nervous and he didn't seem quite as skilled as he had with his fingers – and she was glad because it would be too freakish if he was really good at everything – but the feeling of him working on her down there was so good anyway.
She wouldn't say a word to him tonight about the things she liked best. She liked allowing him to find his own way and had been glad he had waited until tonight to begin checking in so much when he was fingering her.
She drew in another shuddering breath as he ran his tongue fully across her clit.
She wondered if he would be able to make her crest this way then moaned as his tongue once again flicked across her little labs.
"Otis, I—" said Jean as she stepped onto the balcony.
Otis flung himself backwards, knocking against the chair. "Fuck," he yelled.
Maeve opened her eyes and leapt from the table. "Shit," she hissed.
"Ohmigod, I'm sorry," said Jean as she averted her gaze and hurriedly retreated into the kitchen.
"Fuck," said Otis as he struggled to his feet.
"God," said Maeve as she steadied herself against him.
"I'm sorry," called Jean from her hiding place in the kitchen.
Otis and Maeve looked at each other, hearts pounding, not knowing what to do next.
"Where are your clothes?" Jean called.
Otis frowned and Maeve shrugged and Otis looked around the balcony.
"Your clothes, Otis," Jean called.
Otis stared at Maeve and she nodded and waved her hands to indicate he should answer.
"They're… they're in the wash," Otis said.
"Oh," they heard Jean say. "Um…" she continued.
"Your room," Maeve whispered.
Otis nodded, relieved there was something he could latch onto. "We're going to my room, mum. Don't—"
"I'm not looking. I'm not looking," Jean called.
Otis and Maeve looked at each other and nodded then Maeve dashed for the door, Otis close behind, covering himself as best he could.
Maeve risked a glance toward Jean and saw she was leaning against the bench near the sink, staring down into it, hand raised to cover her eye from their passageway.
Otis stared straight ahead, following Maeve's retreating form.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he called, "We'll see you in the morning, mum."
They dashed up the stairs and along the hallway and into his room. Otis slammed the door behind himself and leant against it, panting.
Maeve turned to look at him, eyes wide.
"I didn't hear the car," she said.
"Neither did I," he replied.
They held their gaze, stunned by events, then Maeve bit her lip as a smile began to creep onto her face.
"Shit," she almost laughed.
Otis frowned at her for a moment then leant his head back against the door and released a soft chuckle. "I think mum's traumatised me again."
Author's Notes: And that seems a good place to end it for now.
The cactus line belongs to insanity_keeps_things_fun who was kind enough to allow me to use it.
Most of this was written the day after the previous chapter was published – and then I took the sex scenes out – and then I put the sex scenes back in – rinse and repeat. When I finally decided to put them back for good, I added a few scenes in the middle to hopefully make it flow better.
I promise I'll take a break from the sex soon. I still don't want them to have full sex until after he sees someone.
For those who think I have moved too fast to get them to this point and I've gone splat beneath the tightrope, I'm sorry.
For those who are still enjoying it, thank you.
I have no idea what I was thinking when the Kermit line leapt from my mind to the screen but apologies to Jim Henson.
