Starts with a little pillow talk

There we were, at long last, lying side by side. After what seemed like an hour of tossing and turning (but was probably about 20 minutes), both kids had conked out and were sleeping soundly in their sleeping bags. My back was to them, and I was facing Charissa. Each of us had a sleeping bag, but it was stiflingly hot in the tent. So we lay on top of our sleeping bags, and our chests were rising and falling with our own quiet breaths.

When we were both sure that the kids were fast asleep, I whispered, "So, have you been camping much since your scouting days?"

She bit her lower lip and, after a moment's thought, said, "Well, Jason and I went camping a couple times when we were dating."

"Cool," I said, imagining the lovers in a tent without sleeping kids nearby. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah, I did," she said. "Mostly, I liked spending time with him. It was so rare for us to be totally alone, you know?"

"Sounds like a good opportunity," I said.

"Yeah, I thought so, too." She paused, and I could tell she wanted to say more. So I waited patiently. "I mean, we enjoyed each other's company, but not as much as I hoped."

"What do you mean?" I prompted her.

"Well, you know..." she said. She avoided my eyes as she stammered, "I mean, I wanted to be more ... intimate, but he wasn't ready."

"Seriously?" I said involuntarily. Maybe that wasn't the most sensitive thing to say, but I felt it honestly. "You wanted to get with him, and he turned you down? I find that hard to believe."

"Oh come on," she said. "I mean, he was probably right. We were both raised to wait for marriage for anything too intimate. So I had to keep my feelings to myself and tell myself that we just needed to keep waiting."

"That sounds really hard," I said.

"It was," she said, still not making eye contact and letting her feelings flow out. "I mean, sorry for saying this, but I had a lot of feelings about Jason, and I was pretty embarrassed about them. I really wanted to go further, but he just didn't want to."

"I bet he did want to but he was scared," I said.

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "I don't know. We didn't talk about it. We kissed and touched and stuff, but it was never enough for me."

"And you never..." I started but couldn't bring myself to finish the question.

She understood, though. "No, we never did. Not even close. And eventually we broke up, and if I'm honest, I think it's because we didn't. I think if we'd had... I think we could have been closer, but he never let his guard down."

She seemed sad, and I wanted to comfort her. "I'm really sorry, Charissa. That sounds hard."

She sighed and made eye contact with me. "It's OK. Really. I mean, Jason probably wasn't right for me and this was a sign of that, you know? Like, if we were really meant to be together forever, then I think something would have happened."

"You might be right," I said. And, drawing strength from all the intimate encounters we'd had so far, I pushed forward. "And, you haven't had the chance with anyone else?"

"Nope!" she said with a smile. "Twenty-two-year old virgin if you can believe it!" I laughed, and she laughed too, flashing me a winning smile.

"Well," I said, "as you know, I think sex is normal and beautiful and wonderful, and I'm sure that you'll find a man who treats you right and gives you what you want and appreciates you as the sweet and sexy person that you are, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Seth!" she said with a gasp.

"Sorry," I said, obviously not sorry at all. "I call it like I see it. I'm just saying, you're a great person, and you're going to make some guy, well, probably a handful of guys, really happy, and I'm sure you'll find the right one to settle down with some day."

"That's really sweet," she said. We both paused, taking in the quiet and easy moment between us. Then, she took a breath and ventured, "I don't know why you aren't married, to be honest. Arielle seemed really nice, and I'm sorry things didn't work out."

I sighed. "Yeah, Ari's great," I said. "But she has a short temper, and honestly, I can get pretty angry myself. She resented me for spending so much time on my work, and I resented her for not working hard enough if I'm honest. My schedule was more flexible as a professor, so I was always there for the kids, and she never really appreciated that, and she always reminded me that she earned twice as much as me and needed to relax in the evenings so she didn't have the energy to do Pete's piano or Stacy's dance or wash the dishes or do the laundry or... OK, sorry, I don't need to get all rant-y on you. It just ... didn't work out. And if I'm honest, I think she's happier now with her weekend a month than she ever was living in this house with all of us."

"Wow, Seth," Charissa said. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

"Well, I'm glad you asked," I said. "You're really sweet, you know that?"

"Aw, come on," she said. "Takes one to know one!" We both laughed. A long silence followed.

"So, let me ask you a question," I said. "You went to a Christian college, and you had to take some religion classes?"

"Yeah," she said.

"So, what did they say about the Bible? Like, did they teach it in a religious way? Or as literature? Or historically?"

"Well..." she said.

And we talked. And talked and talked and talked. We talked about her school--and we talked about my school. We made some jokes, including some off-color ones. (She asked me if I'd ever had the hots for any of my students, and I replied "Only the hot ones!") We talked about my kids and the kids she hoped to have some day. We talked about work and family and politics and ... life. We talked for hours and hours, trapped in a sweltering tent with the whole night ahead of us.

It must have been two or three in the morning when we both were yawning so much that we figured we needed to get some sleep.

"This was really great," Charissa mumbled, her eyes already closed. "Good night, Seth."

"Good night," I said. "Sleep well."

I watched as Charissa drifted off to sleep, her body relaxing and her breathing becoming heavy. I have to admit that I'd been waiting for this moment. And as tired as I legitimately had been, my attention was now fully fixed and my heart was racing as I was faced with a very difficult dilemma.

Here I'd just had the most lovely conversation with this sweet and precious young woman. And now she was sleeping soundly, inches from my body, her short shorts and tank top revealing inch after glorious inch of delicious flesh. Do I do the right thing and fall asleep myself? Or do I do... something else?