Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 2 Next Generation Discipleship and Social Group. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. As it turned out, I would learn a lot more about the subject during NG group a couple weeks later. The study that week was on 'integrity in relationships'. The study material was pretty general and covered all kinds of relationships, both social and business. However, discussion among the unmarried college students naturally morphed into a dialogue of biblical perspectives on dating relationships and sexual purity. The group consisted of students from very conservative Powell College, so the conversation was much what you would expect in terms of defining physical boundaries in dating relationships, avoiding temptation, abstaining from pre-marital sex, etc. Emily was sitting a few chairs to my right and noticeably fidgeted with her Bible cover while others talked about various 'Christian' guidelines for dating. She listened politely to several volleys of points and counterpoints before adding her own perspective to the conversation. "Sexual purity is important, but I think we're getting lost in legalism and missing God's larger purpose. The whole purpose of 'dating' is to find the spouse God has intended for us. That shouldn't be done randomly or haphazardly. We should be building serious platonic friendships and know that marriage is a very real possibility before ever going on a date." She continued after a slight pause, "For me personally, I don't want to 'date'. I want to be attracted to a guy that I already love as my best friend, and then have him 'court' me as an intentional commitment leading to marriage." She hesitated for an instant, then added, "I know that sounds unromantic and clinical; and maybe I'm being naïve since I've never dated; but I don't think there would be as much temptation if the relationship is defined by God's larger plan." My mental wheels started turning as Emily's comment pivoted the group's conversation toward God's intent for marriage. Everything she said made a lot of sense and I spent the next couple days reading the Bible and studying everything I could find on the topic. Meanwhile, I couldn't help but analyze our friendship, and my feelings toward her, within that newly discovered context. Emily’s note initiative. The next time I saw Emily was Saturday morning when she stopped by the hardware store to say hello. Unfortunately, there were a lot of customers in the store and I was busy helping an older couple choose a new mailbox. Emily waved while the couple debated between themselves whether or not to spend the extra couple dollars for a sturdier metal box vs. a plastic one. She wrote something on a yellow notepad by the cash register, then waved goodbye as she walked out of the store. The couple decided to go for the metal mailbox, which I thought was a good decision, and then I made sure they had the mounting hardware they would need. I went on to assist several other customers, and it was probably an hour before I was finally able to look at Emily's note. Beautiful flowing handwriting was perfectly aligned on the ruled notepad and read, "Just stopped to say hi! I'll be studying at the library this afternoon if you are free. Text me." She signed the bottom of the note with a simple "-E" accompanied by a smiley face and her cell phone number. I involuntarily smiled at the sight of her smiley face and phone number. The smiley face was just cute. The number was a welcome new step in our friendship. I saved her number in my phone and texted, "Sorry, I work until 6." I did want to see her and, on a whim, quickly hit send on a follow-up text, "Root beer at Muggs?" My phone chimed almost immediately, "Text me when you are leaving the store." Mr. Jacobs and I locked up the store at 6 o'clock and I texted Emily shortly after to let her know I was leaving. The local dog 'n suds type window-service stand was popular with Powell students and townsfolk alike, and was located just a couple blocks away from the hardware store. I was there in just a couple minutes and found the sunny April day had given a lot of other people the same idea. I didn't see Emily yet, but I figured I should claim a place in the ordering line. She arrived a few minutes later, fashionably dressed in a knee length olive-color skirt, light-tan corded sweater, medium-brown tights, and light-tan laced-boot style heels. We greeted each other with a friendly hug and then discussed what to order as the line crept forward. When it was our turn at the window, Emily ordered a chili-cheese dog, fries, and root beer. I did the same and we both paid for our respective meals. We shuffled a few steps over to the service window and, within seconds, received our tray of food. All the picnic tables were occupied and we waited a few moments as a family stood up and gathered their trash. Once seated, Emily opened her petite mouth as wide as she could and fiercely attacked the comparatively huge chili dog. I chuckled at the odd contrast of neatly-dressed, normally prim-and-proper Emily sitting there with an overstuffed mouth and chili running down the back of her hand. She facetiously reprimanded me with a mouth full of chili dog, "Stop it! These things are hard to eat!" After talking for more than an hour, we disposed our trash and exited the corral of picnic tables onto the sidewalk. I didn't want our time together to end and asked, "Would you like to go for a walk?" "Yes, that would be nice." We slowly strolled side-by-side toward the Powell campus as the sun moved lower in the sky. Remembering back to our conversation about Haiti, I asked, "Have you made plans for the summer?" "Yes, and I should thank you for that. I did a lot of thinking and praying after we talked that day at the hardware store. I'm going to stay here and volunteer at the Christian school's summer camp for special needs children." "That's great, but why thank me?" "Well, I was encouraging you that God can use you in great ways in your hometown; which I truly believe by the way; but, I think I was actually talking more to myself that day than I was you. You made me realize I strayed from God's calling. I chased the glamour of overseas adventures when I should have been right here reaching people in my own community." She told me more about the summer camp as we slowly followed the meandering campus pathways, and it made me happy to hear the excitement and joy in her voice. The topic of our summers dwindled to a close and we were content to walk in silence, just enjoying the time together. After a little while, Emily somewhat hesitantly asked, "Michael; how did you feel about the NG study last week? You didn't say anything during the discussion." We happened to be passing a bench when she asked the question and I gestured for us to sit down. We did, and I started talking from my heart without giving any thought to what I was saying. "Honestly, I hadn't put much thought into relationships or marriage before that study. Not that I don't want to get married, I do. I'm just so awkward around girls; er, women; you know that. Dating was never a relevant subject for me, so let's just say there wasn't an urgent need to study God's intent for it." Emily started to interject, "You're;” but truncated her comment when she realized I wasn't finished with my thought. "I've done a lot of praying, studying and thinking since Wednesday. While courtship isn't directly spelled out in Scripture, I think what you said makes a lot of sense. I believe God's intent is for people to truly know the real intellectual, emotional, and spiritual soul of the other person, and to seek God's guidance for them as a potential spouse. I think most of that can be done within the context of platonic friendship; without the, er; complications; of traditional dating." Our eyes met before I very intentionally suggested, "Mental and physical attraction is important too, but I think everyone knows that pretty much immediately without dating." Emily simply replied, "Yes, I think you are right about feeling attraction right away." She said it with normal tone and inflection in her voice, but her eyes gave her away. She had feelings for me, but was waiting for me as the Christian man to be the leader of the relationship. I was honest and a thinly veiled in my response, "This whole idea is very new to me. I know how I feel, but I need to do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject." Emily smiled warmly and we resumed our walk with more mundane topics of conversation. Thinking and Praying. I did do a lot more thinking and praying on the subject over the following week. I knew how I felt about Emily, but I also knew that the idea of courtship was a huge commitment. Did God place her in my life as my future wife, or just as a really good friend? The last thing I wanted to do was take that decision lightly and end up hurting Emily. The timing was also terrible. The spring term was ending in 3 weeks and we both had geographically separate summer commitments, her at the Christian school summer camp, and me at Burkee Hardware. I didn't feel it was right to take the next step with her then spend the next 3 months apart. I also didn't think it was fair to leave her in limbo for 3 months and decided we needed to have a real conversation. I was working at the hardware store that Friday afternoon and sent her a text, "Are you free tonight?" She responded a few minutes later, "Yes." "Hardware store at 6?" "K" Emily arrived a couple minutes after 6 o'clock, just as I was flipping the 'OPEN' sign in the front display window to 'CLOSED'. She smiled and cutely waved to me through the glass as she opened the creaky screen door. Dressed fashionably as always, she wore nicely fitting blue jeans and a white tailored button-down blouse that was thin enough to reveal the subtle shadow of a lace bra beneath. The outfit was smartly accented with matching black leather ballet flats, belt, and handbag. The screen door squeaked shut and I greeted her from the front display platform, "Hi Emily. Would you mind closing the solid door and flipping the lock?" "Sure." She did and we gave each other a brief hello-hug after I stepped down from the platform. We sat facing each other in a couple old wood benches next to the front counter. Emily placed her handbag on the floor next to her, then sat rather formally on the bench with hands folded in her lap. I had been building up courage for the conversation all day and couldn't bring myself to make small-talk. "I've been doing a lot of praying since we talked last Saturday, and I would like to talk with you about it some more. I'm probably going to stumble my way through this, so please let me get everything out before you respond." Emily mouthed an almost silent, "Ok," while she sat with a concerned expression on her face and nervously fidgeting hands. "Emily, I want you to know that you are very special to me. From the day I met you Freshman year, I thought you were amazing. I was just a stranger to you that day, but you overlooked my awkwardness and genuinely cared about me as a person. And not just me, you treat everyone you meet with that same authenticity. You are truly a gift to everyone in your life." My eyes began to swell with tears as I spoke, "I'm so thankful for the time we've been able to spend together this year. You're my best friend; and I think maybe God brought us together to be more than friends; but I'm scared;” Emily brushed away tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you;” I gathered myself for a few moments before continuing, "I want you to know that I take any commitment to courtship, and to you, very seriously. As much as my heart is screaming at me, I don't think it's wise to make an emotional decision right now; or for us to start that kind of commitment as a long-distance relationship over the summer." We were both openly crying. "I'm so sorry Emily. I hope you can forgive;” She interrupted me, "Michael! These aren't sad tears. You are the most incredible man; and my best friend. These are tears of happiness that you have the same feelings for me as I do for you." We both stood and organically melted into each other's arms, my shirt absorbing her tears as she nestled her head against my chest. Her voice was muffled by my chest when she said, "I appreciate that you are seeking God's plan us, and not just following our emotions. I'll be here when the time is right, no matter the answer." I truly appreciated Emily's graciousness and patience, but it was still a very unsatisfactory conclusion for me. I suspect it was for her too. Unspoken Understanding. Emily and I spent as much time together as we could before the school year ended. In an unspoken understanding, we put aside serious relationship topics and just enjoyed a simple, everyday friendship. One of my best memories of that period, was when Emily stopped by the store for one of her normal 'hello' social calls on the last Wednesday of the school year. I had promised Mr. Jacobs that I would price a recently received shipment of new inventory before leaving for the summer. He was old-school, so that meant manually stickering each item with a pricing gun. I was just starting the process when Mr. Jacobs directed Emily toward the stock room where I was busy opening boxes. There was a lot to do and I convinced her to help apply pricing stickers while I focused on opening boxes and making count tallies on the inventory sheet. I gave a quick training session on how to use the pricing gun, then watched in amusement as her slightly OCD personality expressed itself through the pricing gun. She would carefully verify the listed price for each item, set the dial on the gun, then meticulously apply the stickers so they had the same location and orientation on each item. We worked well together and made it through most of the boxes by closing time. I left a few items for last because they needed a special vendor symbol added to the sticker. Rather than teaching Emily, I dialed the symbol on the gun and quickly slapped on the stickers, much too haphazardly for her liking. "Hey! Give me that!" I mischievously mocked, "What?; this???" while holding the gun over her head. She jumped unsuccessfully to reach it and I retaliated by slapping her shoulder with the gun, leaving behind a $3.49 sticker. She protested futilely, "Stop! Not fair!" I held the gun back over her head using both hands to adjust the dial, "You're right, you're worth more than that. How about $5.99." She playfully punched my stomach and laughed uncontrollably while I landed a dozen more pricing stickers on her back and arms. I reveled in hearing the pure innocent joy in Emily's laugh and let my guard down a little too much. She swiped the gun out of my hand and proceeded to dance like a boxer while occasionally landing sticker hits on my legs and torso. Mr. Jacobs must have heard the commotion. He opened the stock room door to find Emily dancing around me with the gun, and both of us covered in price stickers. I made the mistake of looking toward the door, and Emily took the opportunity to land three more quick shots. Mr. Jacobs thought that was the funniest thing ever and his booming laugh joined ours in echoing through the building. Separation Woes. Emily and I hugged and cried as we said goodbye for the summer. We talked on the phone at least once every day and texted constantly that summer, sharing every little detail about our days. True to Emily's encouragement over the last year, I was much more intentional in my conversations with everyone; friends, family, customers, acquaintances; everyone. It was transformational to develop 'real' relationships with people that I had known superficially for many years and, in two instances, to be able to see them come to faith in Christ. When the Burkee's returned from vacation at the end of the summer, I insisted on taking them out for dinner at a really nice 'big city' restaurant. Well, it wasn't 5-star, but it was the best restaurant in the next larger town a half hour away. It was the final year of our annual tuition-vacation arrangement and I wanted to thank them for all they had done for me. I expressed a sincere debt of gratitude that I didn't think I would ever be able to repay, but they repeatedly assured me it was a mutually beneficial situation and, if anything, the outstanding debt was on their side of the ledger. The extended summer vacations had brought back a connection in their relationship that they hadn't felt since they were young. In fact, they were hoping that they could work out a similar agreement with another high school student they had hired and come to trust. Strangely, being physically apart from Emily for the summer allowed me to gain clarity. She was everything I could ever want or need in a life partner. We were spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally aligned. She was my best friend, and a beautiful person inside and out. We simply made each other better. And most of all; I realized what I felt was more than fleeting attraction. I resolutely believed that God meant us to be together. Talking to Her Father. Back in Powell on Tuesday before classes started, I was eager to see Emily but first needed to talk to her father. The Fulton's were a very conservative and traditional family, like Powell College itself, and I wanted to honor that. I can't say I knew her parents well, but Emily had introduced me at church and I usually had short exchanges with them on Sunday mornings. Dr. Fulton was a pleasant, though formal man of average height and build. Mrs. Fulton was simply an older version of Emily in every way, both appearance and personality. Professors were required by the college to hold open office hours the week before classes, and I knew that would be my best opportunity to find him without Emily knowing. I knocked on his door early Tuesday afternoon with a firm response of, "Come in." I opened the door and stepped in, "Hello Dr. Fulton." He started flipping through some papers on his desk and spoke inquisitively, "Hello Michael. Are you enrolled in one of my courses this term?" I felt the unconscious need to match his formality, "No, sir. This call is of a personal nature. Would you prefer I contact you outside of office hours?" Intrigued, he set his reading glasses on the desk and leaned back in his chair, "What can I do for you Michael?" "It's about Emily, sir. I have had the privilege of getting to know her over the past three years, and think she is an amazing, Godly woman. We've become very good friends and I believe God may have larger plans for us." I paused briefly without receiving any immediate reaction from Dr. Fulton, then continued, "I would like to ask your permission to pursue a relationship with Emily." "Define relationship." "Courtship, sir. I would like to court her with the intent of progressing our relationship toward marriage." Seemingly satisfied with that response, he asked, "Have you talked about this with Emily?" "We talked about our growing feelings for each other before summer break. I think we both knew we were heading this direction, but God really gave me clarity over the summer. With your permission, I intend to ask her tomorrow." "Are you committed to the Biblical model of marriage?" "Yes sir." "That includes being the spiritual leader in the relationship, loving and honoring Emily as Christ would the Church; and upholding her purity before marriage?" "Yes sir." "Very well then. You have my permission." He stood to shake my hand, "I know she fancies you. I suspect I'll be hearing news soon." Carnival. That afternoon, the Christian school was holding a carnival and then an evening talent show for all the summer camp staff and counselors, so I knew I wouldn't see Emily that first day back in town. I spent the rest of the day shopping for groceries, getting settled back into the hardware store apartment, and catching up with Mr. Jacobs. Emily texted me throughout the day, lamenting how much she wanted to see me. I encouraged her to enjoy the day and that I looked forward to seeing her too. Over a series of texts, we made plans to meet the next day for lunch at Muggs. That night, I had a vivid dream of sitting on a bench with Emily, talking about our future, and presenting her with a beautiful diamond tennis bracelet. I was startled awake soon after, and knew I wanted to give her a symbol of my commitment tomorrow. A diamond tennis bracelet was far outside of my financial reach, but I had another idea. I padded barefoot down the stairs in the middle of the night and began searching through the store for supplies to improvise a bracelet. I found very fine gauge stainless-steel wire, some stainless-steel crimp connectors, and some low-voltage electrical resistors that looked like tiny clear glass beads. I quickly grabbed some needle-nose pliers and a few other tools on my way back up to the apartment. Without much conscious thought, I sat at the dining table and my hands intuitively began weaving and scrolling the wire into an intricate patterned cable, embedding the glass resistors at regular intervals as I progressed. Once happy with the decorative cable, I did my best to guess at Emily's wrist size and bent it over the edge of the table to form a C-shaped bracelet. Finally, I trimmed the ends of the cable, then neatly folded and crimped the wire connectors over the loose ends of the 'C'. The process had taken all night and rays of morning sun were streaming into the Main St. windows. It wasn't Tiffany or Cartier, but I was pleased with the results. Chili Dogs. I approached Muggs, and from a half-block away, saw Emily standing by the entrance to the picnic table corral. She was a vision of beauty wearing white strappy sandals, a flowing pastel-pink lightweight skirt, and a summer-weight white rib-knit top that was fitted very nicely to her feminine curves. Of course, the outfit was properly accessorized with a stylish small white handbag and delicate necklace hanging below the top's modest rounded neckline. I shouted, "Emily!" Her face snapped toward me and she screamed, "Michael!" as she sprinted toward me, skirt fluttering in the wind. We met halfway and she jumped into my arms, hers wrapped around my neck with our cheeks side-by-side, and her feet dangling against my chins. She whispered in my ear as we held each other tight, "I missed you so much." "I missed you too! I'm so happy to see you." After a few moments, our embrace relaxed and I reluctantly squatted so she could regain footing on the sidewalk. We ordered our standard chili dogs, fries, and root beers and talked non-stop while eating. Emily told me all about the camp carnival and talent show, then we talked about the start of school and class schedules as we concluded our meal and gathered the remaining trash. I suggested, "It's a really nice day. Would you like to take a walk?" She smiled and lifted her leg to extend a delicate sandal-covered foot from beneath her skirt, "I was hoping you would ask. I purposely wore flats." I laughed and we started walking and talking. We meandered through campus and I passively steered us toward Stern Hall, which was a beautiful Gothic-revival stone building with a meticulously maintained central courtyard. We walked through one of two outdoor passageways leading into the otherwise loggia-enclosed space. Water bubbled and cascaded down a small central fountain that was surrounded by a small circular bluestone plaza and stone benches. Four dogwood trees filtered sunlight from above, while the ground was covered with formally designed boxwood hedges and flower displays. Emerging from the passageway into the garden, Emily commented, "This place is so beautiful." We followed a bluestone pathway toward the center of the courtyard and sat on a bench facing the fountain, Emily crossing her legs then smoothing the skirt over her knees. The time had come, and I tried to settle my nerves before speaking, "Emily, I can't even express how much I missed you this summer. I loved talking on the phone, but it just wasn't the same as being together." She shook her head in agreement but knew I had more to say, "Your friendship means the world to me Emily. You're an incredibly beautiful woman, inside and out, and you make me a better person; heart, mind, and spirit." Emily's eyes welled with tears. "I did a lot of praying over the summer, and God made it clear; I believe His plans for us are larger than just friendship. I think He made us for each other, to be together as husband and wife at some point in the future." Emily was openly sobbing in anticipation of my next words, "I've spoken with your father, and I would like to commit to pursuing a relationship with you beyond friendship. Will you join me in courtship?" "Yes! Yes! Yes!" I pulled the wire bracelet out of my pocket and placed it over her wrist. "I want you to know how much you mean to me. I want you to have this as a symbol of my commitment to you." She ran her slender fingertips over the scrolled wire, "It's beautiful! I've never seen anything like this before. Where did you get it?" I was a little ashamed to admit that I didn't have the money to buy real jewelry and sheepishly answered, "The hardware store; kind of; I made it from things I found around the store." "Really? How did you make it?" I pointed to the various hardware components and explained how it was all woven together. "It's beautiful and it's even more special that you made it. I love it!" Intimacy and Temptations. In many ways, the start of our courtship wasn't much different than our earlier friendship, except that we knew there was a purpose in the end. We spent time together in the same ways we had before, at church events and at the hardware store, but also started a weekly tradition of Sunday dinner at her parent's house. We did all the things that typical Powell students do, either just the two of us or with a group of friends; hung out at Muggs, played mini-golf, and got ice cream at the local dairy. According to prudent conservative customs, we always spent time together in public places, or with other people, in order to minimize potential temptations. Our emotional intimacy grew over the next six months and we openly expressed our affection for each other through words and small physical gestures like holding hands, but remained devoted to our beliefs in Christian integrity and sexual purity. It all felt very natural, like two people growing into a future life together. Gifts. In late January, I realized Valentine's Day was approaching and decided I wanted to do something special for Emily, something more personal than just going to a restaurant for dinner. She wore the wire bracelet I made her every day, and I decided that a matching necklace would be a great a Valentine's gift. The necklace was larger and more intricate than the bracelet and I worked for about a dozen hours over the course of a week to complete it, then wrapped it in a small flat box. His Offer. I walked Emily back to her dorm, hand-in-hand, after our NG study the following Wednesday. We talked about the study's topic of 'predestination' as we strolled along the campus pathways and eventually approached her dorm. Pausing before saying goodbye, I somewhat timidly probed, "I know what I'm about to ask isn't exactly proper, but I want to do something special for you. Would you like to come over to my apartment for a Valentine's Day dinner? I would really like to cook for you." I was surprised by Emily's sweetly toned response that showed no sign of hesitation, "Yes, I would like that very much." She pulled my head down to her level and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before bounding into the dorm. Making A Big Meal. I wanted our dinner to be perfect and spent most of Valentine's Day afternoon shopping for the meal and decorating the apartment. Meal planning was a bit of a dilemma. I wanted to make something truly special for Emily, but also needed it to be something I could pull off with my limited culinary skills. While roaming the grocery store aisles looking for inspiration, I found some frozen butternut squash ravioli and decided I could work with that. It even had a recipe on the back of the box for a creamy mushroom sauce with walnuts and sundried tomatoes. I returned from the store with all the necessary ingredients, along with those for a simple side salad. For decorations, I scattered hundreds of red, pink, and white cut-out hearts randomly throughout the apartment, propping them on horizontal surfaces, taping them to the walls, and hanging them on strings from the exposed rafters. I used similar cut-out hearts to put under the table place-settings and serve as decorative placemats and coasters. As a finishing touch, I sprinkled some sparkly heart-shaped confetti around a centerpiece of red roses and a half dozen staggered-height candles. The sauce was simmering away, and I was just finishing assembly of a salad when my phone buzzed with a text alert, "I'm here." I quickly wiped my hands and typed back, "Side door is unlocked. Please lock it and come on up." I scurried around the apartment lighting candles and was dimming the overhead lights when I heard the delicate clip-clap of heels coming up the third-floor stairs. The footsteps crossed the storage area toward the front of the building and Emily knocked on the propped-open door while announcing her entrance, "Happy Valentine's Day!". Her beauty radiated in the dimly lit room and I joyfully replied, "Happy Valentine's Day!" I watched with rapt attention as she slowly took in the hanging forest of paper hearts, illuminated with a combination of candlelight and the soft glow of streetlights coming through the large front windows. The bottom hemline of a bright red, knee-length skirt drew my attention as it billowed from underneath a chic hip-length black pea coat. The heavily textured lace skirt contrasted against the smooth lines of her black-nylon covered calves and black ankle strap pumps. After a few moments, Emily remarked with a wondrous tone, "Michael, this is amazing. It's beautiful." My social awkwardness momentarily returned with the vision of this beautiful woman standing in my apartment, and I cheesily responded, "Not as amazing and beautiful as you." Emily blushed and presented me a red greeting card envelope, which I set down on the counter while offering to take her coat. I stood behind her and held the lapels of the coat as she shed it over her shoulders. The coat slid downward and revealed a black long-sleeve corded sweater that nicely hugged the slender curves of her torso and arms. I placed her coat on a hook by the door and said, "Make yourself at home. I just need to finish the pasta, so dinner should be ready in about 10 minutes." I dropped the ravioli in boiling water as Emily slowly clip-clapped around the small apartment observing the standard furnishings as well as the Valentine's decorations. She would pause occasionally to look at something then move on to something else, until she arrived at the front windows and looked down to the street below. I approached her silhouetted shape from behind and commented, "I know the apartment isn't much, but it has a good view." She guided my arms to embrace her from behind, then leaned backwards into me, "I don't care about the apartment. I just care that you are here. But, yes, it is a nice view." The loud buzz of the kitchen timer disrupted our moment and I excused myself to finish the pasta. I drained the ravioli and tossed it into the simmering sauce before plating and garnishing with sprinkles of walnuts, sundried tomatoes, and shreds of fresh basil. We talked and ate like we had so many times before, but it felt so much more intimate being in my apartment. Emily's natural beauty was softly highlighted by the flickering candlelight, and she was captivating. I was simply absorbed by her presence, enjoying the way she delicately grasped the fork between her neatly manicured fingers, the way her expressions radiated pure innocent joy when she laughed, and the way she tilted her head to gently sweep errant wisps of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear. Our bites slowed after a while and we focused more on the conversation than eating. Growing uncomfortable in the hard dining chairs, I shifted in my seat and suggested, "Let's go sit on the sofa." We both stood and I said, "I'll be right there" as I snuffed the centerpiece candles and deposited a few dirty dishes in the kitchen sink. Emily sat on the sofa and smoothed the skirt hem over her knees as I grabbed her greeting card off the counter, along with my wrapped gift for her. I was taken by the moment as I sat next to her and looked into her eyes. "I love you Emily." Her eyes glistened with moisture as she softly replied, "I love you too." We looked into each other's eyes for a few short seconds before we intuitively closed the distance between us, our lips briefly coming together for the first time. The tentative close-lipped meeting was very chaste by secular standards, but altogether thrilling for two people who had never experienced a romantic kiss. We continued gazing into each other's eyes and came together again for a second short kiss. I knew we were crossing a fairly mild, yet very distinct line within conservative Christian standards for sexual purity, and a small internal struggle began developing within me. I used the most obvious available distraction and offered Emily the wrapped gift in my hands. She carefully unwrapped the flat-shaped box, neatly running a finger beneath the tape to not tear the wrapping paper. Once removed, she slowly lifted the lid to reveal the wire necklace showcased in a bedding of tissue paper. "Oh, Michael!" she exclaimed as she swept her sweater sleeve up her arm to compare the C-bracelet with the new necklace. "It's gorgeous! Help me put it on!" Emily turned her back to me and pulled her shoulder-length bob away from her neck. I reached to place the necklace around her neck and hook the clasp, the back of my fingers gently brushing against her luxuriously soft skin. The touch was new and exhilarating, and she made no move to release her suspended hair as my fingers smoothed the necklace more than was necessary around the nape of her neck. Coming to back to reality, I pulled my hands away from her neck and Emily dropped her hair back into place as she turned to face me again. She looked at me with a depth in her eyes that I had never seen before, "I absolutely love it, Michael. Thank you." Then she put her hand on my chest and moved the full distance between us to press her lips against mine. My internal struggle must have been felt through my lips. Emily pulled back from the kiss, our faces inches apart, and said, "It's Valentine's Day, maybe we can give ourselves a little leniency." That's all it took to overcome my weakened will, and I tilted my head forward for our lips to meet again. We spent the next hour facing each other side-by-side on the sofa, talking occasionally, but mostly staring into each other's eyes and softly kissing. Failures of Carnality. The next week was no different than normal, except that Emily wore the new necklace every day, carefully selecting outfits with necklines complementary to the loop of woven wire. We went about our normal routines and spent time together in public places, simply holding hands or quickly joining for an innocent goodbye hug. The kisses we shared on Valentine's Day were never mentioned and I assumed we both wanted to repress our lapse of judgement. Emily texted me the following Thursday afternoon, "Are you home tonight? I want to drop something off." I replied, "Yes" then had a spur-of-the-moment thought and typed, "Want to have dinner here?" "Sure!" "Any time after 6 is fine." "B there at 7." "Side door will be unlocked. Lock it when you come in." "Okay" Mr. Jacobs and I closed the store, then did some miscellaneous cleanup until about 6:30. He left for home and I headed upstairs to figure out what I could make for dinner. It wasn't nearly as sophisticated as the butternut squash ravioli, but I managed to cobble together a sautéed chicken entree and respectable salad from ingredients already in the refrigerator. I was just finishing the chicken when Emily knocked on the doorframe and hung her winter coat on the hook by the door. "Hi Emily. Perfect timing, I was just finishing dinner." She joined me in the kitchen, wearing designer sneakers, ankle-cut blue jeans, and a pink oxford button-down shirt that was opened enough to modestly showcase her wire necklace. It was a very casual look for her, yet the outfit was still much more deliberate and fashionable than that of the typical college student. She replied, "Hi Michael" and tugged at my shoulder until I bent over for her to kiss my cheek. We ate dinner and enjoyed conversation about a variety of random topics. After dinner, she gave me a little box of homemade cookies from her mother and we sat on the sofa to each have one. I could tell Emily was thinking about something as we finished the cookies. "What's on your mind?" "Being here; and having dinner with you reminds me of Valentine's Day." She paused briefly before adding, "I liked that night a lot" and leaned forward to press her lips against mine. Still sitting side-by-side on the sofa, we both turned to face each other more directly and came together for another kiss, then another, and another. With our legs toward each other, my hands softly caressed her jean-covered knees, while hers rested on the top of my forearms and gently encouraged my movements. Our lips began loosening, and rather chaste closed-lip pecks progressed into more freely affectionate open-mouth kisses. We occasionally separated to silently look into each other's eyes before coming back together again. Each time, our breathing became heavier, the fair skin of Emily's face and neck became more flush, and the blood flow to certain parts of my body became more plentiful. After a while, Emily's phone chimed with a text message and she reached to pull it from her back jeans pocket. "Ugh, I'm supposed to study with Jennifer tonight for our Child Psychology test. I better get going." Emily used outstretched fingers to fluff her hair, then rubbed her neck and cheeks as if to redistribute her flushed color. "Thank you for dinner; and everything; tonight." We shared a few more reserved kisses before I answered, "You're welcome" and we said our goodbyes. Rationalizations. Our relationship held to its normal public decency over the next few days, including during church and Sunday afternoon at her parents' house. Again, there was no mention of our illicit activity and I once again assumed that she wanted to overlook the indiscretion and move on. I knew I was wrong when a text message popped up on my phone Monday afternoon, "Can I drop off some of my mom's cookies tonight?" I answered, "I'll have dinner ready at 7. Lock the door on your way in." She arrived just a few minutes before 7 o'clock wearing a smartly put together jeans and white button-down shirt outfit, of course neatly accessorized, as always. I did make dinner, but we both knew it was only a weak excuse for our consciences to somehow justify being alone together in my apartment. We ate and talked at a less leisurely pace than we had on previous occasions, and quickly moved to the sofa. When we sat facing each other, Emily musically feigned, "Umm, I do love your Valentine's Day dinners." Our first kiss of the night was a confident and hungry joining of our mouths. Those that followed were no less urgent, but were hindered by our awkward side-by-side position on the sofa. Frustrated, Emily put both her hands on my chest and playfully pushed me backward so I was sitting in a slouched position. Her petite body climbed over mine to face me, sitting straddled on my left thigh. My eyes locked on hers as we both breathed heavily and she rationalized, "This might be easier." Her loose-fitting button-down shirt gaped open as she leaned forward to resume kissing, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of her flushed chest and lacy white bra. I agreed, "Definitely better" as her arms wrapped around my neck and we playfully rubbed noses before joining our mouths again. My arms embraced her tiny body and held her close as we kissed, occasionally swapping the interlock of our faces from one side to the other. The new level of passion was having an effect, and my growing member was painfully pinched in my jeans. I removed a hand from her back and tried to subtly pull on the crotch of my jeans to gain some much-needed space. Unsuccessful with the subtle approach, I began tugging harder and drew Emily's attention. She pulled away from our kissing and asked in a genuinely concerned voice, "Am I hurting you?" Somewhat embarrassed, I replied, "No; no. I just need to adjust how I'm sitting a little." Emily sat up and curiously looked down as I pulled on my jeans and coaxed the underlying bulge to one side. Now fully understanding what I meant, she let out an enlightened "Oh;” before replacing her arms around my neck and resuming our kisses. My hands caressed her back and lightly traced the graceful shape of her petite shirt-covered body, my fingers' smooth motions only interrupted as they traversed the unnatural feel of bra straps. Still straddling my leg, Emily's hips began making ever-so-subtle motions as we kissed. My hands couldn't sense the movement as I caressed her back, but I could faintly feel the repeated shifting of her weight on my thigh. I was emboldened by the sensation, and mischievously flicked the tip of my tongue against her upper lip as we kissed. She responded in-kind and our tongues were soon dancing in and out of each other's mouths, our faces pressing harder together in a desperate attempt for deeper and deeper kisses. As our shared arousal built to a new high, we were once again startled from our rocketing passion by a chiming cell phone. This time it was mine, which was sitting on the arm of the sofa. I didn't intend to answer it, but we both subconsciously realized the interruption was probably for the best. Emily rolled off me to sit on the sofa and said, "Go ahead. It might be important." I held up the phone for her to see that Mr. Jacobs showed on the caller ID, then hit the speakerphone button. "Hi Mr. Jacobs." "Hi Mike. Sorry to bother you. I was just realizing that I don't think we locked the side door tonight. Could you please check it?" I think Emily and I both twinged a little, knowing I left it unlocked to facilitate our sin. I simply answered, "I know it's locked. No worries." To be continued in part 3. Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.