I Didn't Want to Get Married

Andrew emerged from the tent house looking a bit piqued. He bent to offer me a hand up out of the dirt and didn’t even mock me for being on the ground in the first place. How odd. “Are you alright, you look terrible?”

At that, Andrew looked genuinely wounded, which surprised me. “You, you think I look… terrible? You find me unsightly?”

I snorted as I dusted myself off and followed Andrew inside. “No, Andrew, of course not! Obviously you’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life; that goes without saying. I meant you look a little green in the face. Are you okay?”

Now that had been downright bizarre; surely Andrew had his bloody looks complimented every day? And yet, he positively inflated at my comment, the color returning to his cheeks as he beamed at me radiantly. “Absolutely! And my day is all the more so enriched by your company, (Y/N). Please, join me for a picnic?” Uh... okay?

Andrew bustled about, setting everything up, humming to himself. He tried to stop me from helping, but in the end I got away with at least putting out some silverware despite his protests. I was pleased to find they had brought champagne! My parents didn’t normally let me drink very often.

The meal was light fare, a variety of fruits, breads, and cheeses. But all of it tasted very fresh, better than from home. Andrew liked the bleu cheese, but I decided I didn’t care for it. As we ate, I pestered him to tell me about his sexual experiences, excited at the opportunity to learn from a primary source.

Andrew paused, grinning, as he held his champagne glass. “Let’s make it a game, then. I’ll answer a question for you, if you will answer a question for me?”

I felt my face flare hotly. What could Andrew possibly want to know? I had no idea. But some instinct, hot, moist, wanting, and unrecognized by my conscious mind, saw the heat in Andrew’s gaze from across the tablecloth. That perception gave me the gut feeling that I should just say yes. “Sure.” I refilled my glass, only my second.

Andrew’s smile was boyish. “I’m a gentleman, you can go first, I don’t mind.” He ran a hand through his long hair, and I couldn’t help but watch the dark locks settle for a moment.

“In what ways have you been with women?” I watched Andrew, and I found myself picturing him without clothes on, thrusting-

Andrew gave a little cough and turned red. “Ehm… Via hand and via the, uhm, mouth.”

Why was I so warm? “What’s the best-“

“-Nope! That was one question! My turn, my lady!” Andrew made a smug face. “What qualities do you desire in your future husband?”

I scowled. “What the devil does it matter, Andrew? I’ll have no say in the matter! There’s no point fantasizing about garbag-“

Andrew threw up his hands. “Oh stop, (Y/N)! You’re trying to cheat, just answer!”

I motioned Andrew to be silent for a moment so I could think on it. I hadn’t really thought a whole lot about it outside of girlish fantasy, not really on a practical level. I’d just always known I’d have so little control-

“Just imagine a circumstance where you could have some influence, (Y/N).” Andrew looked rather… attentive to what I had to say. He must have had more to drink than I noticed! I supposed that meant it mattered less if I spoke freely…

“Well, I suppose I’d like a man that is honest, ethical, that doesn’t beat me, for starters.” Andrew shook his head, totally disgusted.

“You deserve far more than that, (Y/N)! You warrant a husband who is intelligent and witty, who recognizes your intellect; a good-looking fellow, someone who will build you your own stables, at the very least! You’re a woman of uncommon beauty, humor, and mind. You merit-“

I snorted and broke out in raucous laughter. “You’re hilarious, Andrew! Ahhh! But, my turn! How do you please a man with your hands?”

Andrew turned red. “I, ahh… Well… I, mean, of course, I… You may be unawares, (Y/N), but men often engage in such behavior by themselves, alone.” I rolled my eyes. Obviously! “As such, while it is stimulating, it is perhaps not as much so as… the other.”

Andrew pursed his lips, looking at the ground for a moment. I decided not to rush him. After all, this was crucial! I saw him perk up abruptly, and grab a banana from the fruit basket. He looked quickly around the tent house; doubtless terrified we could be witnessed.

He held the banana up between us. “Pretend this is the, um, item concerned. Most men are right-handed-“

Without thinking, I blurted out, “-Are you?”

Andrew’s mouth fell open, and we were both quiet for a moment. He recovered first. “That’s two questions, and I haven’t even finished the first one yet! But, uh, so, the, er, gentleman, will often close their dominant hand around, their, eh, personal area, when they are alone. Like so.”

Andrew held the banana at its base with his left hand and stroked it with his right. I was imagining it was something other than a banana, something of Andrew's, wondering what it looked like, and suddenly felt even warmer. “You can vary it a little, with some twisting or squeezing, but that’s the gist of it. A woman does the same when using her hands, uh, there. On that area.”

I nodded. I couldn’t really bring myself to say anything. I was starting to realize my host was inadvertently exciting me. I was still intent on trying to learn from Andrew, I just needed to be careful about hiding my pathetic infatuation, for more reasons than I could count. I took several large sips of champagne as Andrew thought up a question.

Andrew snapped his fingers. “How do you want your future husband to ask you to marry him?”

I scoffed. What was with his line of questioning? Why was he rubbing this in my face? “Either his parents will contact mine, or, if he’s already old and soggy, he’ll contact them directly!” I had another sip, feeling a bit cranky as I eyed Andrew’s perfect cheekbones. Stupid cheekbones!

He raised his finger and shook it at me! “That’s not what I asked! I want to know what you would want, not what you suspect will happen! No cheating or no more of your questions!”

I sulked and rolled my eyes. “Fine! I want him to go down on one knee, and to implore me, ever so romantically, in the name of God, that he shall never be content without my hand.”

Andrew nodded. “Hmmm…” I noticed him refilling my glass and decided to pace myself carefully. I was definitely tipsy now.

Perhaps now wasn’t the best time to ask about oral sex, if I wasn’t sober and was getting randy for a man who was about to officially reject me. Maybe in a few minutes… “How do you kiss a man?”

Andrew gave me an apologetic look. “When I was a very young lad, my father kissed me on the forehead. But I don’t think that’s what you mean, (Y/N). I don’t make a habit of kissing men; I can’t really help you.”

We both laughed for a moment. “My friends and I, that have never kissed anyone, we’ve tried to practice on our hands, like this.” I showed him how we mooshed our lips around on our hands, and Andrew laughed, smiling so luminously, it was worth the most wretched of mortifications just to have seen him so.

“I’m really scared for when I am finally forced to kiss for the first time; I don’t know what else to do to be prepared. I’m anxious about all of it, really.” Oops! That had just kind of slipped out. Probably the champagne.

Andrew was silent for a moment, chewing his lip.

Notes

It's baaack!

Also, side-note: For anyone who has read a lot of my stuff, I've started polls for both Action Figure & Bloody Lonely (go to the final chapter to see them).

For Action Figure, it's to see whether there is interest in a sequel. If you've read the story (regardless of whether your answer is yes or no), I'd appreciate your input.

For Bloody Lonely, it's to see if there is interest in a chapter, or possibly two additional chapters, at a later date. There is zero possibility of a true sequel, though I've gotten quite a few requests for one, it is not a possibility. So please understand, it's the small update or nothing. (Please understand, at one point, I had seven stories going at once. That's hard.)