c WEEKEND FOR TWO

Ali MacGraw and Ryan O'Neal

in a scene from the 1970 film, LOVE STORY

SYNOPSIS: In the summer of 1970, GWEN KAPLAN seemed to have her act together. She was smart, pretty, halfway through college, and engaged to her long-time boyfriend. Then MARK CAHILL walked into her life. The wounded Vietnam vet from the south was unlike anyone she’d ever known. She only wanted to be a friend to this nice guy who was alone and a long way from home. But then he kissed her, and Gwen’s well-planned act began to crumble. Neither she nor her friends could believe what she’d gotten into. Though sure she still loved her fiancé, as summer turned to fall, her relationship with Mark became more intimate until….

Bayou Bill

note: The "love scenes" in this chapter contain so few graphic physical details, even a PG-13 rating might be a stretch. Any feedback on them would be appreciated.

==

Weekend For Two

by Bill Fullerton


Mark tipped the old bellhop then closed and locked the door to the dated midtown hotel room. He turned and looked at Gwen. She was standing near the foot of the double bed, clutching her purse, and looking back at him. Even with his poor eyesight, he could tell she shared his nervousness. He hoped his wasn't so obvious.

They kept staring until he slipped off his coat, laid it over the high back of a generic stuffed armchair and came to her. He took the purse from her trembing fingers and tossed it toward the same chair. He missed. It landed on the thin carpet with a solid thunk. Neither one noticed.

Mark wondered what to do next. Then instinct took over. He stepped forward, wrapped Gwen in his arms, and crushed her against his chest.

The abrupt embrace unbalanced her and she stepped back. When her leg hit the edge of the bed, she began to fall. Mark never let go, and they tumbled together onto the bed. They were still bouncing when he started covering her face and neck with kisses.

Before she could catch her breath, he flipped up the short skirt to her A-line dress and started pulling off her panty hose. It was past her knees when he stopped. There was another obstacle—her shoes. He fumbled with their tiny straps until both shoes were unbuckled, off her feet, and resting somewhere on the floor.

Moments later, she was nude from her quivering stomach and round hips down the length of her long legs. He stared with open admiration and felt a shiver of pent-up desire.

There had been other women in his life, one very special, but none like Gwen. Through some alchemy, she managed to combine girl-next-door good looks with long-legged sex appeal, an open attitude toward relationships, and a casual acceptance of sexuality. This girl was mysterious and guileless, knowing and naive, erotic and romantic, carnal and innocent, engaged and yet willing to give herself to him. It was all very disconcerting.

To his everlasting amazement, they were not only about to make love, they would be doing so all weekend. Instead of the usual narrow, cramped back seat of a car, they were in a hotel room. He had it all: time, location and, most important, this enigmatic girl who would share that time, and her most desirable young body, with him.

#

When Mark began moving over her body, Gwen undid his dark blue tie. Then while he fumbled with his pants, she took off his cufflinks and unbuttoned his shirt with steady fingers. She was excited, happy, even a little apprehensive, but under control.

It was hard to believe she would be spending the entire weekend making love with this strange man she barely knew. She and Johnny had dated for almost two years before she let him take her virginity. There’d been more pain than pleasure for her, but the goofy expression on his face made it all seem worthwhile.

They’d made love on a regular basis ever since. And while her experience with sex was limited to Johnny, she sensed he was a capable lover. But while still feeling a loving tenderness towards him, she’d begun to wonder what it would be like to make love with someone different, someone big and tall, self-confident, maybe a bit mysterious and, most of all, experienced. Someone like Mark Cahill.

After shedding the rest of his clothes, Mark finished removing Gwen's dress. They began exploring each other's body, marveling at the smoothness of skin, the softness of breasts, the hardness of muscles, and the scars of war. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, they moved closer until their lips met in an effortless, natural motion. Without breaking the contact of their lips, Mark lowered his hard body until flesh made contact with flesh.

Gwen placed her hands on the sides of Mark's head, pressed her mouth against his and gently inserted her tongue. She moved like a languid snake, making slow, sensuous love to his mouth.

When their lips parted, both sensed it was time. Unbidden, Gwen spread her long legs, giving him unlimited access to her waiting body. He responded by maneuvering between them. After one last kiss, their hips rushed towards one another, and the bodies of the girl from New York and the boy from Louisiana became as one.

They were in each other’s arms for hours, sharing a time and place all their own. Gwen didn’t know or care how long it was. If she had her way they'd make love forever.

She didn’t even know how long they’d been locked in their present lover’s knot, savoring the exquisite afterglow of lovemaking. She felt Mark's body relax. His sigh sounded very contented as he lowered her legs and let his arms drop to his sides. But he continued kneeling motionless between her trembling legs.

Waves of pleasure rolled over Gwen as she looked at her exhausted lover. Never had she imagined making love could be so physically demanding, or so satisfying. But now Mark would need to take a break, just like she did. They could talk and get to know each other better. Maybe go get something to eat. Later, they would make love again, slowly this time. After all, they had all weekend. And if--.

Mark began toppling towards her. Gwen gasped, closed her eyes and turned away. The bed shook as his hands slammed down beside her head. When things stopped bouncing, she opened her eyes. Mark was watching her with a sly grin.

Before she could say anything, she felt him starting again, this time with slow, relaxed strokes. Her feelings ran from dismay, to disbelief, and then to delight. That break would have to wait. This man wanted her.

The rest of the weekend was a constant blur of long, torrid, intimate pleasure. While the action in bed never seemed to stop, there were a few breaks, though only to shower together, take short naps, or go out to for brief meals. Seconds after waking up, drying off, or getting back to the room, another round of lovemaking would begin.

It was the first sex in months for Mark. For Gwen, it was the first sex without the usual worries, inhibitions and, of course, with anyone other than Johnny.

They were two healthy young animals, temporarily released from the normal constraints of time, place, and emotion. For the rest of the weekend, they were free to feed off each other's pent-up desires, passions, and sexuality.

Late that evening, during the first extended pause in their lovemaking, they showered, got dressed, and went out for dinner. After exploring the Times Square area, they settled on a small, candle-lit, Italian restaurant. Gwen agreed to Mark’s suggestion they try the linguine and clam sauce and order a bottle of Chablis.

When the waiter brought the wine, Mark glanced at the cork and tasted the sample offered him before nodding his approval. Before they met, she had seen this ritual in the movies, but never in real life.

She sipped the wine and found she liked its bright, clean taste. "I just discovered Chablis," he said, noting her enjoyment. "It's a great wine, especially if it's served very cold."

When the meal came, Mark refilled their glasses. "There's a running joke among the Cajuns down in south Louisiana that oysters are supposed to make you love longer. But since there weren’t any on the menu, I hope clams are the next best thing."

"Believe me, fella, you don't need any oysters."

"You just bring out the best in me.” There was a pleased grin on his face. "Or is that the beast in me? I never can get all that straight."

"Maybe the beast is the best in you."

"Oh, heavens to Betty Boop, surely not. I much prefer to think of myself as the sensitive, intellectual, caring type of lover. Now it is true that to most folks I look, act, and maybe even smell like a lewd, crude, redneck lout, but that's just a thin façade. Trust me, I’m not a lout."

Gwen giggled so hard at this monologue, she spilled some of her wine onto the red and white checkered tablecloth. "Well, I may be a crude beast," said Mark, as he helped her wipe up the mess, "but you're one messy broad."

"Then I guess that makes us perfect for each other."

"Not unless you learn to eat turnip greens and grits.”

"Well, in that case, you'll have to learn to eat lox and bagels.”

"Don't believe I'd care to try.” He broke off a piece of hot, crusty bread and handing it to Gwen. "To my cultured southern ears, lox and bagels sounds like a down-and-out law firm or maybe some old vaudeville team."

"You mean there's absolutely nothing that could ever tempt you to try lox and bagels?” She spoke in a low, suggestive voice while slowly spreading a thick layer of butter over the warm bread.

"Well, now, since you put it that way, I suppose the right person might be able to tempt me."

"And just who do you think that person might be, kind sir?"

"Never can tell. Who knows, it might even be you. I've got a well known weakness for cute student nurses with soft, brown eyes and long, sexy legs."

There was a teasing tone in his voice. Still, Gwen felt her face flush at the compliment. For some reason, coming from him, she could almost believe it was true.

Mark snapped his fingers "I've just had an outstanding idea! After we knock off these clams, let's slide back to the room and see if you can tempt me into trying these here lox and bagels, whatever or whoever they are."

Gwen gave him a big, happy smile. “That sounds like a great idea to me.”

They held hands and chatted while walking back though the chill evening air to their room. A block away from the hotel, Mark pulled her into a cramped, hole-in-the-wall newsstand where he bought a paperback copy of the Kama Sutra and some chocolate candy. "I can't believe you're still hungry after all we've just eaten. I'm stuffed."

"Just planning ahead, my good woman," he replied, while paying the cashier. "This book is to give us guidance in case we forget what to do or how to do it. The candy is to give me energy in case we don't.”

"I've got a hunch the last thing you'll ever need to worry about is forgetting. As for needing energy, well, we'll see about that."

After re-entering their room, Mark closed the door, tossed the paper bag onto the room’s tiny dresser, and then pulled Gwen to him. The kiss was long and deep. When their lips parted, Gwen looked up at him and noticed a pleased, almost contented, expression on his face.

They continued standing near the door, wrapped in each other's arms until he leaned back enough to unfasten the two button of her Henley dress and pull it over her head.

The look on his face changed from anticipation to surprise. Gwen stood in front of him wearing nothing but her platform shoes, jewelry and a small, nervous, smile.

"You went out with no underwear on—none at all?” Amazement and approval could be heard in his voice.

Relieved by this positive reaction, Gwen nodded. The idea had been Sue's. For the past two years she had teased Gwen about being a middle class square with a steady boyfriend, who wouldn't even flirt with other guys.

In exchange for telling Gwen about the Dixie Hotel, Sue made her promise to have no underwear on the first time she and Mark left their room. "That's assuming you two ever leave the room," she said with a smirk. "But I promise, it always turns guys on. I'm dying to find out how your southern gentleman will react."

Sue had most definitely been right. Mark's reaction more than justified the uneasiness Gwen felt walking around the city wearing nothing except her dress, shoes, and jewelry.

"Out-rocking-standing," said Mark. “I'm just glad you didn't tell me about this in the restaurant. Sitting through dinner knowing all these tempting goodies were so available, that would have been tough to resist."

Taking her hand, he led a beaming Gwen toward the bed. "Come, my good woman, it's way past time I got back to sampling all your delights. Call it dessert in bed."

#

At some point, Friday night became Saturday, which then metamorphosed into today. Lying alone in the rumpled bed, Gwen's sore, tired, nude body was a mass of exquisite aches and pains. It was a constant reminder that, for most of the weekend, she had been in this bed making love with Mark.

While her body might be weary, she felt contented and in an upbeat mood. To her surprise, she had no regrets. As her aching body could attest, he had needed her. But she had needed him, though in a different way she still couldn’t quite understand.

There had been quiet meals, long walks, intimate conversations, and one long, incredibly erotic sexual feast after another. Just moments earlier, they concluded yet another marathon session that left her completely exhausted. After cuddling for a few minutes, Mark got up to take a shower. Normally, she would have joined him. But she was way too tired to even think about getting up and stayed in bed to rest.

Hearing the shower stop, she wondered what would happen next. While she wasn't sure about the time, she knew they'd have to be checking out before long. Turning her head in the direction of the bathroom, she saw Mark walking out. He was toweling water off his big, well-muscled body, and he was smiling.

Gwen stared in amazement. The look on his face and the size of his erection left little doubt why he was smiling. After a weekend of almost constant lovemaking, he wanted her again. It was incredible.

"I thought showers were supposed to cure that condition. What am I going to do with you?"

“Sorry, I messed up and took a hot shower instead of a cold one. Besides, I missed you.”

This being a sex object was a super ego-rush, but exhausting. Still, the weekend had been an incredible experience. She’d learned a lot about making love, about Mark, and about herself. So, tired or not, in their last few moments together, not only would they make love again, she'd do her best to make it something he'd never forget.

She gave Mark an indulgent smile, and motioned for him to come closer. When he reached the bed, she wrapped her fingers around the hard organ that had given her so much pleasure. Using this special handhold, she began gently pulling him into their well-used bed. “Mr. Cahill, you’ve got such a nice way of telling a girl you care.”

This time the sex was very serious and, once started, seemed to last forever. They balled, screwed, got it on, maybe even made love, and did so in a variety of positions, including ones she’d only read about before this weekend. The intense love-fest continued for the rest of the morning until their mounting ecstasy exploded in a climax that left them sweaty, exhausted, and very content.

Gradually, the real world re-entered their lives and they began to disentangle. For the first time that weekend, Gwen glanced at her watch. She had told her parents she'd be coming home around noon and was running late.

Mark said he’d pay for her to take a cab home. She tried to protest, but he cut her off. “This makes it easier for me. You drop me off at the hospital and then pay the driver when you get home.”

As the cab pulled up near the VA, Mark kissed her. "Why don't ya come up and see me some time, little lady?”

"First, I've got to know if you're the type of guy who'd try to take advantage of me."

He got out and closed the door. "Of course I am.”

Gwen stuck her head out the window. "Oh, good. In that case, I'll be over tomorrow night.” They kissed once again. She broke the kiss and slipped her head back inside as the cab hurried off.

Looking back, she saw that, instead of watching her cab depart, Mark had turned toward the hospital. With a sigh, she shifted back around and checked her watch. It was time to put him and the last forty-two hours out of her mind. She had done her best to make his life a little happier. Now she needed to concentrate on her own life, on her parents, on school, and on Johnny.

#

After getting his bearings, Mark turned back around to wave goodbye, but the taxi had already slipped into the Sunday traffic on First Avenue. He waved, but had no way of knowing if Gwen saw his gesture.

It was a clammy, overcast day, but he wasn't anxious to return to his room. Life in the hospital would seem even duller than usual after this weekend. And it had been one hell of a weekend, he thought. Then he turned around and headed toward the hospital.

The sex was outstanding, the best he ever had. Making love with someone who seemed to accept sex as a natural, enjoyable, part of life was incredible. No phony shyness or crying about whether he'd respect her in the morning. Hell, she was there in the morning, willing to try different things, to laugh when something went wrong and to openly enjoy those that went right.

He’d never understand women, most of all one like Gwen. Maybe that was just as well. Before long, she’d be out of school and married, while he might still be in hospitals, only dreaming about returning to school, much less having a real life.

For now, though, Gwen had given him one of the greatest gifts he would ever receive. This weekend was the first time he hadn’t been haunted by images and memories of the last two years: the fire, getting wounded, the months of total blindness, his operations and, most of all, the friends he’d lost.

Wherever their fates might lead, Mark knew he'd always be grateful to Gwen Kaplan, and not just for the sex, although that was incredible. This weekend she not only gave him her delightful body, but the priceless present of total happiness and contentment.