Between classes, Varik knew he could find Jerika behind the woodshop smoking a cherry Dutchmaster. He peered around the corner and found her leaning up against the stucco wall, her lips curled around the cigarello. She inhaled and blew out a sultry waft of sweet smelling smoke.

“Father Andrews wants to see us,” he said, startling her.

“I know,” she said, sighing, “Maybe I went too far with the whole evolution versus creationism rant.”

She raised her eyebrow and gave a smirk. Jerika was so sexy in her baggy ripped jeans that hung at her waist, tiny black tank top that showed a hint of her belly and the old faded flannel shirt she wore over it, unbutttoned. She always changed out of her uniform after school as if she was ashamed to be seen in a St Ignatious uniform, even though she had it hemmed slightly above the knee, enough to get her daily detention with Sister Anne. Jerika had one pink earbud in her ear and the cord dangled into the pocket of her flannel shirt where it plugged into a “borrowed” IPOD.

“What’s on your playlist?” Varik asked, snatching the IPOD out of her pocket.

“Smashing Pumpkins, Spacehog, Our Lady Peace, just to name a few,” she said, putting out her cigarello.

“Vintage nineties!” he said, putting the other bud in his ear.

She looked over at him and took his hand.

“Let’s take a walk.” she said.

“I think we have a lot in common,” Varik said, holding her hand, “I know we both like kissing each other.”

She smiled at him.

“Yeah that was nice,” she said, “But I get what you’re saying. We have the beliefs. I could see it in Father Andrews class when I gave that report about evolution. I think he sees it too.”

“What? Andrews?” he scoffed, “The guy’s a priest! He’s basically a government puppet. If he strayed from what they tell him to teach, then he’d get executed.”

“But he’s still entitled to his beliefs,” she said, stopping under a tree.

She leaned over to kiss him deeply, running her hands down his sides.

“I want to forget about the world,” she sighed into his mouth, “I just want to feel you.”

He kissed her with more passion and pulled her in toward him so she could feel his passion rising within him.

“I want to be inside you,” he said.

The layed back onto a soft spot of grass, away from the dirt of the city, the angry billboards that screamed of hate and intolerance, the angry voices on television and the radio that demanded everyone “REPENT!”. It was just them. The two of them in that clean pure spot in nature. Where everything began. This is where they would begin. Both pure.

Jarik was shaking as he rolled on top of her. He could feel the hard part of him throbbing against her jeans. He was sure he would burst but something primeval and primitive inside him stopped it. This wasn’t like the first time he thought of Jerika alone in his room and erupted by the thought of her curves alone. This was beautifully calculated. Every motion, every minute, every touch was just right. He slipped her jeans off and ran his hand over her black cotton panties. He took pulled up her tank top to expose her breasts but kept her flannel shirt on her to keep her from getting cold. He then took off his shirt and embraced her so he could feel his warm skin against hers. She moved his hand inside her panties and he could feel soft delicate fur and warm wetness at the opening. He rubbed on her there for a few moments and kissed her. She hungered for his touch so she moved his finger over her clit and felt him throb against her thigh. He had never touched a woman there before and he craved her. She removed his jeans and saw him poke out from his boxers with a tiny pearl of fluid on the tip.

They stopped and looked at each other for a moment. The world was in chaos. Birth control was banned. Abortion was illegal. There were few choices at that time. Carelessness overcame reason as he rolled onto her and slid himself inside her. Right away he was awash in sensations that made him feel blissfully out of control. He was bonded to her. Her skin fused to his. Every