Before the Glitter: 1971

Closer to the Comfort Zone

August 19

Very early mornings...I mean mornings where you woke before 5:00AM were good for one thing. If it was an early summer morning it was even better. For the third time that summer, the air conditioning unit was out. However, no lack or air or circulation would stop the incessant pants that escaped Veronica's mouth. Her back was coated in sweat as she arched off the mattress and her hair stuck to her neck. "Trade me...trade me places." She panted desperately at John. She couldn't see his face in the early morning darkness but she could feel her hands slip on his shoulders.

"Wha...trade?" he asked her.

"Yes! Yes, trade me." She begged, motioning him off her. John did exactly as she had instructed him; clumsily moving his soaking-wet body off her. She eagerly pinned him beneath her and shook her hair wildly to free it from her neck. She had been only partially affective but it didn't matter because Veronica had done this before and all she needed was John's hands on her hips to steady her because she knew exactly how to do the rest. She could hear him grunt at her a little incoherently as she adjusted her body on him. Veronica let out a carnal moan as she rocked her body against him. She couldn't decide what exactly she was touching at the moment. Was it sweat, was it...something else or was it simply a sloppy mixture of the pre-dawn?

Veronica reached her hands to his shoulders forcing John, further into their hot, soaked mattress. The beads of sweat on her forehead had become streaks down her temples. "John...John..." she breathed heavily at him, her heavy sighs as humid as the room around them. It was no secret as he squeezed her hips that he was close...very close. Veronica knew how to make John weak, to make him hers, and above all...to make him...

John uttered at her barely above a whisper, his voice choked and thrusting his hips up toward her exhausted body. Veronica wasn't a woman to swear much, except when John was about to send her into overdrive. Then, her mouth became a force that the Virgin Mary in their bedroom would have to reckon with after the damage was done. She couldn't help it. He had all the right moves and she had all the right responses. Veronica could ride him into the morning light if she only had the stamina. She adored the helpless sound of John underneath her, letting every passion escape his lungs as he reached a moment of unforgettable, and intense pleasure. Veronica cried out louder than she had anticipated only having her throaty whimpers drowned out by John's. They never cut anything short and this moment was no exception. Veronica rode it out to the fullest possible extent. John could feel his head spinning and his heart about to pounce into his throat. He moaned again, longer and harder than he had previously as Veronica's arms shook and her lips trembled. She fell to John's left as her thighs melted below her, unable to support her any longer. She could feel her stomach pulse as she attempted to wipe the sweat from her body. John reached a hand to her though he continued to try and catch his breath. She squeezed his hand and moved her very satisfied body closer to him, kissing him with sweaty lips. "Happy birthday, baby." she smiled and laughed softly against his lips with him. He laughed with her just as gently in the fade of morning. "Wanna' take a shower with me?"

"Mmmm..." John wrapped sweaty arms around her as he felt sleep overcome him. "Yes, I certainly do. And then I want to bring your gorgeous naked body back into this bed with me...fall asleep until the birds wake us." He said softly. "I love you."

"I love you." Veronica sighed. "And I love fuckin' you in the morning." She said knowing good and well the Virgin Mary figure was staring her down. John smiled at her in the darkness before planting another sweaty kiss on her lips. What a way to turn twenty.

Uptown, a different morning was unfolding long after John and Veronica had slipped back into their slumber. Brian sat at his desk in his assigned classroom and read over the student contact information that had been turned into him that morning by his very first class as a day adjunct instructor. He couldn't help but smile as he read the last one and paper clipped them all together. He tore a piece of paper and shoved it under the paperclip: MW, 9:00. Brian sighed and stared around the empty classroom; ten rows of desks, each row having eight desks. It wasn't a big classroom and the walls were painted in a drab cream. The corkboard near the door read STUDENT ANNOUNCEMENTS, which was littered with advertisements for flatmates, goings on around campus, and ads for used books for sale or students looking to buy books.