A cool breeze drifted through the open window of Harold and Marian Hill's bedroom, bathing the room with a clean scent and ruffling the open curtains that hung along the glass panes. It was still dark outside, the wee hours of twilight still holding their own against the inevitable dawn of daybreak. The refreshing air washed over the couple sleeping in the large bed in the center of the room. Although Marian Paroo Hill lay still on her side of the mattress, Harold Hill tossed back and forth in his sleep, his hand moving down to massage the increasing bulge straining against the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

As the fevered movements of his hand became more pronounced, his wife's name fell from his lips in a low groan, but a moment later, he jolted awake, eyes wide and breathing ragged. Forcing his fingers to still their frantic movements, a disappointed sigh escaped him as he realized he'd been merely dreaming.

When he turned to gaze at his librarian, he found her sleeping contentedly, blissfully unaware of the erotic dream she'd headlined only moments before. As Harold watched his wife, he was struck by how little they have made love this summer. With rehearsals picking up at the Emporium and Eli and Beth out of school for the summer, their free time had been severely limited. When they did finally escape to their bedroom at night, husband and wife were too exhausted to even contemplate a quick tumble amongst their sheets. As such, it had been some time since he and Marian had indulged in an extended evening of lovemaking.

Feeling unusually invigorated after his delightful dream and deciding a little sleep deprivation never hurt anyone – not even Marian – Harold carefully tugged the neckline of his wife's gown down until the tops of her breasts were exposed. The music professor had always been fascinated by the occasional glimpses the piano teacher's necklines provided him before they were married. And once Harold had been given the opportunity to make love to that area in earnest, the soft swell of his wife's breasts never failed to mesmerize him.

Lowering his head, he bestowed tender kisses along her smooth skin while his hand worked beneath the hem of her nightgown, until his palm firmly cupped her bare backside. A grin split Harold's face at the reminder that, even after twelve years of marriage, Marian chose to forgo drawers beneath her nightgown in an effort to expedite their lovemaking. His body tightened at the thought, and his hand gripped her soft flesh even tighter.

Marian sighed contentedly as she slowly awakened, and a moment later, her eyes fluttered open as she lifted her hands, burying her slender fingers in Harold's disheveled curls. When he raised his head to beam at her, she graced him with a languid smile.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Professor Hill," she sighed and pulled him up for a kiss. "What a lovely way to wake," she murmured when they parted.

"It's been far too long since we've enjoyed morning delights, my dear little librarian," Harold informed her with a naughty grin. His hand continued to stroke her bare skin. "Don't you think?"

Murmuring her agreement, Marian raised her lips for another kiss, and Harold was only too happy to oblige. One of the things he loved most about his wife was her openness in loving him. Although she had initially been hesitant when they'd first wed, the librarian had quickly shed her inhibitions with a speed that thrilled and delighted the music professor. Nowadays, not only did his darling wife encourage his amorous explorations, oftentimes, she initiated them. While his lips planted heated kisses along the side of her neck, Harold's hand stole to her breast, lovingly caressing her with slow, circular movements that made Marian shift beneath his hand and moan her approval.

"I was dreaming of you," Harold breathed against her neck. His hand closed around her breast, and he nipped at her neck with a gentle love bite

"Were you?" Marian sighed, running her fingers through his hair. "Tell me?"

"We were in Madison Park… shortly after our engagement… in the small alcove," Harold whispered.

"Our picnic alcove?"

Harold nodded and smiled wistfully. "The very same. Oh Marian, there were numerous occasions I wished we could go there while courting, but I was afraid if I got you there alone, away from prying eyes, the temptation to get carried away might prove too much to resist. That's why I waited until after we were married. I couldn't risk it."

An understanding look came into in Marian's gaze. "I often wondered if that was why we never went there while courting." Her lips curved in an impish smile, and she brushed back a stray curl from Harold's forehead. "Did the music professor dream about thoroughly ravishing the librarian?" she softly teased.

Harold's eyes darkened with passion, and he nodded. "I was just getting to that…"

XXX

After a long day at the Emporium, Harold Hill wanted nothing more than to squirrel away River City's librarian and spent the next few hours in her soothing company. Business had been brisk, and between the band's busy rehearsal schedule – Mayor Shinn had asked him to contribute a song at the upcoming Thanksgiving celebration – and Marian's long evenings at the library, the music professor felt as if it'd been an eternity since he'd held his fiancée in his arms.

It was an unseasonably warm night for early November, but Harold wasn't willing to question the weather. All that mattered was the sweet smile Marian had given him when he'd arrived at the library and requested her hand for an evening stroll. Now that her fingers were securely laced with his, he didn't even mind when they spied a young couple happily canoodling at the footbridge. Instead, he subtly adjusted their steps, steering Marian toward a less-traveled path. It was a school night, and he knew the teenagers would soon be required to vacate the spot. He and the librarian could certainly wait a few moments. Besides, it was such a lovely evening – an extended stroll would be delightful.

The sounds of the water tripping along the stones and the soft chirping of crickets created a tranquil symphony and, as if by some unspoken agreement, Marian and Harold remained quiet, content to walk alongside each other as they made their way deeper into the foliage. When they finally came to the end of the path, Marian turned as if to return to the footbridge, but Harold held her hand and tugged her back to him.

"Marian, wait."

His fiancée glanced questioningly at him, but did as he asked. Harold surveyed the scene before him with a satisfied grin. The pebble footpath gradually faded into the large patch of grass which lined the small brook, and large trees swallowed up the evening sky, giving the alcove a secluded, yet cozy feel. Harold couldn't have asked for a better spot for a little canoodling. Wondering why he hadn't thought to bring Marian here before, Harold turned, intending merely to pull her close for a kiss.

But in his eagerness, the music professor found himself pulling her down to the soft grass to lie with him, instead. Without pausing to question the wisdom or even the appropriateness of their new position, especially when Marian regarded him with an expression of unabashed desire, Harold leaned in and captured the librarian's mouth in a searing kiss.

They stayed that way for several moments, until Harold pulled away, his breath coming in quick gasps. Marian's eyes fluttered open and she gazed serenely at Harold, as if being together like this were the most natural thing in the world. The music professor vaguely noted that somehow, his jacket had ended up neatly rolled beneath her head, but he didn't pause to trouble himself about the specifics of how that could have occurred. Instead, his gaze flickered down the soft swell of the librarian's breasts. When his eyes met hers again, Marian continued to smile at him, although the brightness in her eyes had somewhat lessened.

Normally, the music professor would have halted his actions long before they ever managed to get this far, but now, Harold could only watch as his hand cautiously hovered over the front of his fiancée's gown, fingertips faintly touching the pearl-trimmed buttons running along the seam. Marian was nervous. If the quick rise and fall of her bosom beneath his hand wasn't enough of a sign, her eyes – firmly trained on the water a few feet away – would be evidence enough.

The music professor knew the librarian's reaction was inevitable – after all, his Maid Marian had never so much as been kissed before he came to River City. Certainly, she had never found herself in a situation like this. Placing gentle kisses against her neck, Harold whispered heated endearments until he heard her breathing relax, and then captured her mouth in another kiss. As Marian responded warmly to his overtures, his fingers slowly unbuttoned the front of her gown, gradually allowing him access to her corset. His caresses moved to the thin fabric, and his mouth curved in a satisfied smile when he heard Marian moan as his hand discovered the soft curve of her breast for the first time.

As Harold continued to trace his fingers against her smooth skin, Marian's approving sighs encouraging him to explore further, the music professor savored his incredible stroke of luck. Marian was allowing him far more liberties than he'd ever imagined, and if truth be told, he was crossing several lines he'd promised to never breach, but it all felt so natural. And if River City's gorgeous librarian didn't deem it necessary to rebuff his advances, Harold Hill certainly felt no need to impose such self-restriction.

Emboldened by Marian's response, his hand meandered down her body until his fingers closed around the hem of her long skirt. With practiced ease, he pulled it higher until it rested above her hips, giving him an unhindered view of the stockings and drawers she wore beneath it. Harold's eyes remained fixed on hers while his hand slowly trailed along her leg, his fingers caressing her knee and continuing upward, tracing patterns along the soft fabric covering her thigh. He knew Marian was nervous, but she was excited, too – the quick rise and fall of her chest told him as much.

He was only inches away from the area that consumed his nightly dreams when he felt Marian shift. He glanced down in time to see her legs widening, silently granting permission to his wandering hand. Harold's mouth dropped open in muted surprise, but when he looked back to Marian, he found her watching him with trusting eyes. Overcome by a rush of desire, he leaned forward and captured Marian's lips in a heated kiss as his palm finally slid over her warmth for the first time.

Marian moaned, and Harold could feel the dampness between her legs. She wanted this as much as he did. Thank God for that; because if his librarian had shown any reticence, the music professor didn't think he'd be able to press forward – even if the throbbing below his belt advocated otherwise. But Marian's reactions left no room for doubt – her body was clearly ready for his touch – and Harold couldn't say no to such an obvious invitation.

Harold's hand continued to tease her through the fabric of her drawers, drawing out soft gasps of delight from his fiancée. Trailing his lips down her jaw, Harold flicked his tongue against the smooth line of her neck, taking a deeper taste of the tantalizing hollow of her throat and then down further until his lips travelled between the smooth curves of her breasts, somehow no longer encumbered by her corset or camisole.

Having always been a man who enjoyed the heavy fullness of a woman's curves, Harold spent several minutes enjoying Marian's dazed moans as his lips licked and nibbled at her porcelain skin, teasing but never tasting the darker flesh there, even though Marian's cries suggested she desired exactly that.

With his fiancée's mind focused entirely on the movements of his mouth, Harold took the opportunity to work open the folds of her drawers and ease his hand inside. When his fingers grazed her soft curls for the first time, Marian gasped and grew still in his arms. But Harold, prepared for such a reaction, simply stroked a gentle finger along her warm slickness, gliding up and down until Marian began to move once more, her hips pushing against his hand tentatively at first and then more urgently as Harold continued to tease her with calculated strokes. A moment later, Marian released a low moan and her fingers threaded through his brown locks, insistently pressing his head closer to her breasts. Harold smiled against her skin. His little librarian was certainly eager now that she'd been given a taste of passion's delights. He'd always harbored a sneaking suspicion that would be the case, and speaking of taste…

The music professor lifted his gaze to see Marian watching him through half-lidded eyes, a blissful smile illuminating her features. Confident she was ready for his touch, his lips firmly closed around her nipple in earnest the exact moment he finally slid a warm finger inside her, and Harold groaned when the librarian's hips immediately arched against his hand as she released a sharp whimper at the unexpected sensation.

Several minutes of sheer delight trickled by as Harold continued to tease delicious cries from the librarian's lips, and Marian's ecstatic moans filled the alcove while the music professor artfully worked his finger and out her warmth, expertly alternating between a languid pace and a frenzied tempo. Harold was sorely tempted to bring Marian to climax solely with his hands. The sight of her undulating hips was undeniably erotic, and if Marian's eager cries were any indication, she was finding their current situation just as enjoyable as he was. However, he'd been chasing after Marian Paroo for almost four months – an eternity to a man like him – and he wasn't about to pass up this long-awaited opportunity to make love to the librarian… even if they hadn't quite made it all the way to the altar just yet.

Without pausing to think, Harold removed his hand and rolled Marian beneath him, letting out a groan as her warm, bare thighs pressed against his own. He felt the tip of his erection brush against her entrance, and groaned even louder; as much as he'd always said he preferred the sadder-but-wiser girl in the past, there was something tremendously enticing in knowing just how hot and wet and tight Marian would be around him when he did enter her, and that he would be the first, last and only man she'd ever granted such intimate access.

"Harold?" her voice was soft and uncertain, even as she pressed forward, enabling him to barely slip inside her entrance. His eyes slid shut at the sensation, and he gritted his teeth.

"Do you trust me, Marian?"

The question was uttered in a hoarse whisper, but Marian's reply came without hesitation. "Of course I do, Harold."

Her simple response shattered the last of his resolve and Harold surged forward, capturing Marian's mouth in a heated kiss. It took considerable self-control not to instantly climax when he felt Marian's tightness contract around him. She was warm and wet – an unchartered territory waiting for him to discover, and he planned on thoroughly exploring everything she had to offer.

When he felt her small hands clutching his shoulders, he gently eased out of her and was rewarded with the most sensuous sight he'd ever seen. Marian's head was thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted around an unabashed moan. Groaning, he pushed back inside and began to move in and out of her wetness, hand firmly wrapped around her hip as he eagerly coaxed her to climax…

XXX

Harold's hand, which had travelled to Marian's bare hip during his recollection, began tracing random patterns across her skin. A flash of longing entered his wife's eyes when his fingertips brushed across a particularly sensitive spot, and Harold chuckled.

"I knew, even in my dream, that your willingness to indulge such fevered imaginings was unrealistic. But when we were still courting, I was so eager to make love to you, to hear your first cries of ecstasy… it all seemed so real…"

Marian cupped a warm palm to his cheek and gave him a loving smile. "It wasn't as unrealistic as you might think, Harold."

The music professor's eyes widened but he said nothing, studying his wife in the silence.

Regarding him with a serious expression, Marian nodded. "After that afternoon at the tree when I finally discovered how appealing lovemaking could be, the feeling of your body pressed against mine was never far from my thoughts." Her gaze seemed to focus on a distant memory, and she continued, "There were many nights I hoped you'd secretly whisk me away to a secluded corner in Madison Park and continue what we'd started that afternoon."

"Oh, Marian," he whispered, "you don't know how many times I had to stifle that very urge." He regarded his wife with solemn eyes in return. "Sometimes, I wonder how we ever managed to wait until after our vows to consummate our love," he admitted.

Marian pressed closer and brought her forehead to rest against his, a bemused smile tugging at her lips. "I've often wondered that, myself. As proper as the maiden-lady librarian might have been, she certainly had her share of dreams involving a certain handsome music professor."

"Oh, did she?" Harold chuckled.

Marian nodded, but didn't say anything more. Realizing there would be other times to pursue that interesting tidbit, Harold laid a gentle hand against her cheek and kissed her softly. When their lips parted, he pressed his forehead against hers and a serious note entered his tone once more.

"As much as I wanted you then, Marian, I'm glad we waited."

Marian smiled. "So am I."

"Everything we have today would be bittersweet if I'd compromised your virtue," Harold softly confessed. "I knew that from the very beginning. As difficult as it was, learning the fine art of patience was good for me. Even better was the satisfaction of doing the right thing." Cupping her chin, he gazed into her hazel eyes and continued, "When I finally lowered you to our marriage bed that night in Des Moines, I did so with a clear conscience. It was the sweetest lovemaking I'd ever known."

Marian stared back at him, her eyes completely trained on his. "It was for me, too, Harold. The sweetest I'd ever known in my entire life."

A heavy silence filled the room as Harold tried to process what his wife had just told him. The sweetest she'd ever known? But how? He continued to stare at her in confusion, before he eventually realized his serious librarian was desperately trying to contain a grin.

"Why you little minx!" he playfully scolded and reached forward to take her in his arms. "What's the world coming to when a fellow can't pour out his soul to his wife without her teasing him about it?"

Marian giggled. "I'm sorry?"

Harold chuckled. "Well now, are you telling me or asking me?"

When she didn't respond, Harold shook his head and sighed dramatically. "Insufferable woman. After twelve years, the spark is finally gone."

Marian arched an eyebrow at him and propped herself up on an elbow. "Is that so, Mister Hill?"

Harold was about to respond in kind when he once again caught sight of the swell of his wife's breasts – now quite visible thanks to her loose nightgown and new position in their bed. His eyes were drawn to the creamy expanse of skin, and he stared, recalling the attentions he'd lavished there in his dream.

"Oh honestly, Harold!" Marian laughed when she realized she no longer had his attention, but Harold was already reaching for the hem of her nightgown. Within seconds, his hands were caressing bare skin once more. Letting out a low moan, Marian reached for his waist before hastily pushing down his pajama bottoms and tossing them on a nearby chair.

Harold smirked. "My, my, madam librarian! Perhaps the spark isn't gone after all – my God, Marian…" his voice trailed off in a strangled groan when his wife's warm hands closed around his erection, smoothly guiding him to her entrance as she parted her legs.

As he slid inside her familiar warmth, he noted Marian's smile – an enticing mixture of desire and satisfaction. He might have lost the upper hand this time, Harold reflected, but the consolation prize was well worth the defeat.

Author's Note – This was written in response to a dream challenge. I recommend you read Morfiwien Greenleaf's well-written and superbly smexy story, "A Long-Lost Cause."