Ward Fulton - The Violated Virgin

Delacorte considered the important aspects of life.

"So when's Sam arriving?"

Suzanne smiled happily, and her heart beat a little faster.

"Five o'clock," she replied. "On BOAC. I'm going to be at the airport in plenty of time. I don't want to miss seeing the plane come in. Oh, Mother, I'm so happy."

"You look it, I'll say that for you." Her mother paused and smirked.

"You are going to marry him, aren't you?"

Suzanne nodded emphatically. "Of course. I've always been in love with Sam."

"Hm. To be truthful, I had expected you to get married a few months ago, but then he suddenly upped and flew off to Europe. Did you by any chance have a tiff?"

Suzanne shook her head. "Nope. He just said he wanted to get away for a while," she lied. "But let's not talk about that. Sam's coming back, and just as soon as we can, we're going to be married."

"He asked you in his letter?"

"No. He didn't ask. He said so."

"Oh. Caveman tactics."

"No. He's aware how I feel. I guess he just took it for granted that I'd say yes, and I will. Oh, Mother, I can hardly wait."

Mrs. Delacorte sniffed. "Well, I want you both to have a talk with the minister first. You know, there are lots of things a young couple should know before getting married. And of course we'll have to send out the invitations and everything. Oh, I want you to have the biggest and best wedding that Grosse Pointe has ever seen. After all, Sam's family is well known, and it should be a real nice splash on the social pages."

Suzanne leaned back and wiped her mouth with the linen napkin.

"Mother, I'd just as soon have a quiet ceremony. I know Sam's not planning a big wedding. He's often said so."

"Suzanne, children do not arrange their weddings. Their parents do, and you're not going to deprive me of seeing my only daughter married in high style."

"But, mother, it's my wedding."

"I'll not discuss it any further, Suzanne," said Mrs. Delacorte, rising and lifting the breakfast tray off the bed. "You're going to have a big wedding and you may as well get used to the idea."

Suzanne sighed. "Yes, Mother."

"And don't look like that. You know you really want it, just like any other Grosse Pointe girl. Remember, you only get married once, and you may as well go all the way. It's not that we can't afford it, remember, like those other people."

"I know. But I think Sam'll want to get married right away, and a big wedding takes time, and there's so much planning and all that nonsense."

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Delacorte's voiced rose three octaves. "Suzanne, you listen to me, my girl. I'll arrange everything, and you can get married, oh, say, in about a month or six weeks. Besides, that'll give you and Sam a little time together. After all, he has been away, and I'm sure you both have lots to talk about."

"I suppose so." Suzanne threw the covers back and stepped out on to the thick, plush carpet. "Mother, I think I'll shower and get dressed.

Thanks for the breakfast."

Mrs. Delacorte picked up the tray and moved to the door.

"You're welcome, dear, and believe me, darling, it's so wonderful having you back home again. You've no idea how much happier I am, knowing you're back where you belong."

She left, closing the door behind her. Suzanne glided across the carpet soundlessly, and went into the pink and white tiled bathroom, resplendent with gold fixtures and a sunken tub. She stared at herself in the full-length mirrors, and slipped off her pajamas, standing naked while she surveyed her body.

She heard a voice echoing in her mind… "Jeez, lookit them tits!" She closed her eyes, seeing Donald's naked body on top of her own, his mouth hungrily devouring her lips while his penis moved slowly in and out of her vagina.

With a quick shake of her head, she dismissed the memory, stepped into the tub, and turned on the faucet. As the stinging warm water splashed on her skin, she reached for the soap and began soaping herself all over, relishing the sensual feeling of her fingers and the spray.

It was nice to be home again, she thought, enjoying all the comforts that her parents' wealth afforded her. Yet there had been a cozy warmth to her little apartment on campus; if only it could have stayed that way, instead of being so violently disrupted by those boys. And Yvonne … poor Yvonne! Suzanne would never forget the look on the woman's face as she walked out of the apartment that night, her age and her frustrations deflating her expression, removing the constant forced sparkle and superficial gaiety. And Carole, whose eyes had betrayed her remorse even if her mouth had remained silent. Yes, it had been a bad scene, but as an experience, it had been invaluable. Even her encounters with the three boys had been a traumatic breakthrough for her, revealing her innate sexuality to herself and enabling her to dispel her inhibitions. She knew now that when she and Sam slid under the sheets, she would be able to satisfy him completely. And she knew instinctively that a wife who keeps her husband happy that way need never fear about his straying from home. Yes, she would be able to give Sam every type of sensual satisfaction he could possibly crave. Her body glowed at the thought, and she finished her toilet quickly, eager to be dressed and ready to go to the airport and meet him. Her heart beat quicker at the thought of seeing his handsome face once more, feeling his arms about her and his lips pressing on her own. Oh, Sam … Sam… hurry home, darling, hurry home. My arms are waiting and my body is eager to feel you, naked and aroused, lying on top of me…

Detroit Metropolitan Airport was crowded as Suzanne and her parents pushed their way through the mass of people to the arrival gate.

Suzanne's hands were trembling, and she bit her lip as she moved, her body bumped by the throng of travelers disembarking. Her eyes were glued at the oncoming sea of faces, eagerly searching for the broad, handsome features and shock of brown hair that she had been dreaming of for so long.

"There he is!"

Mrs. Delacorte's voice cut through the babble like a knife, and Suzanne turned and stared.

"Oh, Sam!"

She rushed forward, and they were in each other's arms, and she felt his wide lips cover her own. Her arms held him tightly, and instinctively she opened her mouth and let her tongue lick across his lips for a second before breaking apart. Sam's large blue eyes were wide, and he laughed enthusiastically.

"Now that's what I call a welcome," he breathed. "Oh, Suzanne, it's so good to see you."

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and kept one arm around his waist while he shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte. He looked around.

"Mother and Dad didn't come?" he asked disappointedly.

"No, afraid not, Sam," said Mr. Delacorte, "Your father's in Chicago on business, and your mother wasn't feeling well. Nothing serious, just a touch of the flu."

"Oh, well, you're here," Sam said, looking at Suzanne. "That's all that really matters."

They walked back through the terminal and collected his two suitcases, and in ten minutes were driving back down the expressway towards Detroit, Sam sitting close to Suzanne in the back seat of the Delacorte Cadillac, while Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte rode up front, both keeping their eyes tactfully on the road, conscious that the two young people in the back would much rather be alone. Suzanne snuggled close, her one hand on the inside of Sam's thigh; his arm was around her, and every few seconds, they would lean close and kiss. Suzanne felt her loins responding, and she knew Sam was getting excited. She had already noticed the slight bulge in his pants, and inwardly she felt a glow of satisfaction. Oh, she could hardly wait 'til they were really alone.

She wanted him so badly, she almost hurt.