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From: anon584c@nyx.cs.du.edu (Uther Pendragon)
Subject: {Pendragon} new "APRIL'S FIRST.03" ( mf 1st rom ) [3/3] <*>


IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read
electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do something else.

    This material is Copyright by the author.  All rights reserved.  I 
specifically grant the right of downloading, electronic copying, and 
reposting.

    I read alt.sex.stories.d.  If you have any comments or requests, please 
post them in that newsgroup or E-mail me at anon584c@nyx.cs.du.edu.  Please 
use "Pendragon" somewhere in the subject line of any posted reply.  

    All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as public
figures in the background, are figments of my imagination and any
resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

                           #     #     #     #


                           APRIL'S FIRST    03
                           by  Uther Pendragon

Continued from part two:

Brian stopped April at the door.  "Are you sure that you don't want me to 
walk you back?" he asked.
     "Positive.  It's going to be hard enough for me to pretend that 
everything is normal as it is.  I don't want to worry about your pretense 
as well."
     "Everything is normal.  Everything is right.  We were meant for each 
other, it's just the rules that keep us from saying so."  He kissed her 
forehead protectively.  She raised her face for a real kiss, and it was 
gentle and protective, then hard and passionate, then gentle again.  They 
parted reluctantly.  "Love you," he said as he opened the door.
     "Love you," she responded.  She walked out hesitantly, turned halfway 
around, then she firmed her shoulders and strode out towards the street.  
He watched a moment, then shut the door.
     This was no time to dawdle.  He put the vacuum cleaner back in the 
closet and opened the door into his mother's room.  He emptied his 
wastebasket into the kitchen garbage, having to pull one of the condoms off 
the side as he did so.  The kitchen garbage bag went out to the can in 
back.  He opened his window and shut his door before setting the table.  He 
wondered if his mother would notice anything;  he wondered if she would 
make a comment if she did notice.
     April got home just in time for dinner.  Carla was at night school, 
and her parents didn't seem particularly perceptive.  "Well," asked her 
father towards the close of the meal, "What April-fool pranks did you play 
this year?"
     "Oh Daddy!" she responded.  "I outgrew that long ago.  You still think 
that I'm a little girl."
     "Well, you're my little girl.  I'll always think of you that way.  I 
don't want you to grow up too fast."  Considerately, he didn't mention the 
long string of exploits that she had entertained them with the year before.  
She feared that she would blush over the growing up that she had done that 
afternoon;  but, if she did, no-one noticed.
     Once the dishwasher was loaded and she was hidden in her room with 
homework in front of her, she could think of Brian as long as she wanted.  
He had kept repeating "I love you."  At first, she had feared that this was 
a formula that he was using to get in her pants.  Afterwards, however, he 
still said it.  And what he had said about all the future that they would 
need to go through sounded like he was really thinking that this was a 
permanent relationship.  
     She loved Brian;  did she want to spend the rest of her life with him?  
She desired it and feared it.  She was daddy's little girl and, in some 
ways, Brian's little girl.  Both were sort of fun, but not for life.  She 
would move away from Daddy and grow up.  Daddy would mourn it and celebrate 
it, as he had done every step she made since the first one he caught on 
film.  Would she have to move away from Brian to have him accept that she 
was growing up?  
     Well, Brian was growing up as well.  He might grow up enough to 
respect her mind and her will.  To be fair, he'd respected her independence 
a lot this afternoon.  With them both naked in his bed, he'd asked for her 
agreement.  And, with them both naked in his bed, he'd pleasured her.  That 
was important, and April abandoned the uncertain future to recall the 
joyous past.
     Finally, she completed her homework despite her mental distractions.  
After all, the standard against which she was competing had their own 
lubricious thoughts.  She ended the night with a long hot bath.  As a 
practical matter, showers travel in the wrong direction to reach the parts 
which most deserved care that night.  Her choice was more influenced, 
however, by the emotional accord between soaking in the warmth of the water 
and basking in the sensuous memories.  Brian had been there, had sheltered 
her, had filled her.  He had loved her *afterwards*.  The water warmed, 
supported, and relaxed her body as her lover had warmed, supported, and 
relaxed her spirit.
     Back in her room, she took off her robe and studied herself in the 
mirror.  She couldn't see any difference.  She desperately wanted the 
change to be invisible to everybody else, but she thought that it was 
unnatural that she looked the same.  Sleep overtook her while she was 
replaying the afternoon for the third time.
     Brian was too busy worrying about the evidence of the afternoon to 
savor the experience until he was alone in his room.  The negatives came 
first.  April was so beautiful, but he couldn't say anything about it but 
"beautiful."  He wished that he were a poet so that he could actually 
describe her beauty to her, the sheen of her hair above and below, the 
shape of her breasts and thighs, the grace of her walk, the warm embrace of 
her cunt around his cock.
     Then there was the future threatening them.  Two years of high school, 
four years of college, before they would be permitted to live, before he 
could support her and claim her from her parents.  Their love was a proud 
thing; it was a shame that expressing it had to be hidden away.  He didn't 
regret his promise to tell no one;  he would rather have the guys snicker 
at his inexperience than have them snicker at April.  What he regretted was 
his inability to claim her in front of the world.
     Then too, hiding their activities meant that they couldn't make love 
very often;  and he wanted to do it again and again.  Coming in her had 
been glorious, much sweeter than the experience of her hand, let alone his.  
Having her come around him had been even better.  How often could April do 
it without getting pregnant?  How often could they do it without getting 
caught?
     The idea of repeating this intimacy, however fraught with difficulties 
and dangers, excited him.  He replayed the afternoon in his mind.  Soon, 
the images weren't enough;  he took himself in hand.  Brian didn't finish 
his homework that night.  Drained as he was, he still dreamed of April.
     Talking in school invited eavesdropping, but they couldn't resist.  
They did get some safety by walking the school grounds for part of their 
lunch hour.  "Are you okay?" he asked.
     "I'm fine."
     "Do you swear that it didn't hurt at all?"
     "It really was my first time," she answered.  "I swear that.  On, ... 
on the bracelet you gave me."
     "I believe you, partly because I know that you are an honest person, 
partly because I know what that bracelet means to you..."
     "Means to me now," she interrupted.  "You are *very* special in my 
life."
     "Partly because," he continued in the same tone, "I love you, and love 
should include trust.  But *mostly* I believe you because you were so sure 
that it would hurt.  Ape, you worry to much over the wrong things.  Now, 
did it hurt you at all?"
     "Not in the slightest."
     "That is wonderful.  Can't you understand that I worry over hurting 
you?  I don't worry over your cheating me."
     "I love you."  She started towards him.
     "Don't touch," he said reminding her of the school rule.  "I love you, 
too.  I should have said that first off."  They stood a yard apart looking 
into each other's eyes with expressions that the school administration 
would also have banned if it could.  "You know," he said as the closer 
students started towards the building, "it was my first time, too."  Not 
having a response to that, April was silent as they parted.
     Carla had called with a warning that she wouldn't be at supper.  April 
was in bed when the knock came on her door.  Carla's news came first.  She 
was going back to school full time in the fall.  "It's a lost cause, Sib.  
I'm not going to torture myself over Jeff Benton any more.  I may even go 
on to law school.  But that's the future."  The talk over that information 
took them nearly an hour, but there wasn't any more information.
     April's information took longer to communicate, but Carla summarized 
it neatly.  "You did it?"
     "Yes," said April, "and it didn't hurt at all."
     "My lucky sister.  Did you use anything?"
     "Brian did," April said, "and it was funny.  I'd never really seen it 
you know.  In a dark car, but never *seen* it.  Then, suddenly, there was 
Brian kneeling on the bed above me.  Sticking out from his middle was 
something white and shiny.  It wasn't until afterwards that I figured out 
that this was the rubber."
     "My sister," said Carla.  "Sib, you could find something funny about 
your execution. "
     "Not afterwards.  Or, at least, if I saw something funny afterwards, 
there *would* be something funny about my execution."
     Carla giggled.  "Sib, I'm so happy for you.  Next you'll tell me that 
you came your first time."
     "No, but I did my second."
     "Second!  I am going to go out and find my own sixteen-year-old."
     "Just so you don't go after mine.  Seriously, Carla, there are 
drawbacks.  I may never see a basketball again without blushing."
     "Basketball?" asked Carla.
     "Well you know how crazy Brian is about the Bulls," April began.  "He 
has a huge poster of Michael Jordan at the foot of his bed.  Brian was over 
me and blocking most of the view, but the basketball kept swimming into and 
out of focus.  Brian's room was much better than a parked car, but that 
doesn't mean it was ideal."
     "Does he care for you?"
     "That he does.  Sometimes his protectiveness edges over into the 
annoying, but he is always protective."
     "That," declared Carla with real force, "makes his room better than a 
penthouse.  You and I missed that route, Sib.  I more narrowly than you.  
Whatever the pain I feel from unrequited love for an honest boss, it's a 
hundred times better than being the bed toy of an unfaithful one."
     "And I've been dwelling on my joy all this time.  I should have been 
sharing your pain."
     "Why?  We're sisters, and we share.  But I'd rather be sharing the joy 
than the sorrow.  Anyway, I want to find you a basketball charm."
     "Why basketball?" asked April.  She really didn't want any charms 
which didn't represent turning points in her life.
     "Because even Dad would figure it out if you added a charm shaped like 
a bed."

     THE END
     Uther Pendragon
     1997/04/01

--
Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.cs.du.edu

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