Message-ID: <37864asstr$1029352204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: 53ab2750!not-for-mail From: HammonWry@yahoo.com (Hammon Wry) X-Original-Message-ID: <3d5e5018.128466745@news.east.cox.net> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 14 Aug 2002 09:03:41 EDT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 14 Aug 2002 13:03:41 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Friendship of the Thighs (MFSafe) Date: Wed, 14 Aug 2002 15:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, gill-bates Notice: The following is a work of erotica, and is meant for those of legal age and inclination in their jurisdicions. If you are not of age, or if this is illegal where you are, please do not read any further. (C) E. Howe 2002 All rights reserved Author's note: This is the last piece about Totten and Carter. I haven't written any more. Should I? Once again, it makes references to events that can be read here: http://members.cox.net/ehowe/DBIndex.html Enjoy. Hammon Wry Totten and Carter sat once again in his office, this time not as doctor and patient, but as companions. They had arrived back in Rhode Island earlier that evening, and had debriefed with the Colonel at the base. Fearing to go home to an empty house full of memories, Edie had accepted an offer to spend the night in Carter's spare room. He'd offered a nightcap, and poured their snifters of brandy. They sat silently, a little awkwardly. "Look, I'm sorry" "I didn't mean..." "You first." "Age before beauty, you first" The doctor grinned, and said "I'm sorry I was so flippant about the Fourier option. Weird is relative, and if you think Techi would be happy as one, then who am I to judge?" "I didn't mean to get so angry, John. I'm sorry too. Pax?" "Pax." They sipped their brandy. "Admit it, though, you were looking at my breasts when I was ranting." He didn't even bother to deny it. "Yes. I was." "You want me, don't you?" "I've told you as much, yes. I'd bet you feel the same about me. But I know this will go nowhere. Not until Techi is out of your life" She looked sharply at him, and realized George must have said something. "George told me that I was the only woman you'd ever fixated on like this. I'm flattered, I think. As for Techi, well, she's not out of my life, but she has said that I should accept the friendship of your thighs, if offered." He blinked. "Friendship of the..." "Thighs. It's from Irish mythology. The story of Cuchulain, and Scathach the warrior woman he was tutored by. In the end, as equals, she offered him the friendship of her thighs." He chuckled. "How appropriate. And what do you say? Would you accept the friendship of my thighs?" She looked at him over the rim of the snifter. She held it between her hands, like the chalice of wine at communion, elbows on the arms of her chair. She seemed to be thinking. Then, lowering her glass, and leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and asked, "Doctor, how many fingers did you use in me to feel my uterus?" Before he could answer, she looked at him again, her face serene. Her eyes looked right through him. He stared back, unwilling to lower his gaze. Silently, he held up the three fingers used in the exam, and watched her smile. "Did you feel my reaction?" He lowered his hand, and stroked the backs of his fingers with the thumb of the same hand. "Yes, I did. I felt your vagina contract three times around my fingers. Once for each finger, perhaps?" It was his turn to smile. "I also noted that the patient was decidedly aroused by the perianal exam, as well." For the first time since he'd gone to Maine, he saw her blush again. "Did you? How could you tell I was aroused, Doctor?" "Symptoms included erect clitoris, increased vaginal lubrication, withdrawal of the cervix into the pelvis. Labia were also swollen and red. I'd say it was a classic textbook example of adult female genitalia at full arousal." He took another sip of brandy, and continued. "You left your scent on that gown, Wench. I thank you." Her eyebrows rose as she realized what he meant. "How did you know...wait, you smelled it?" It came to her. She'd seem him scenting before. On walks, he would stop, lift his head, and scent the air, and say "Smell that? Wild roses are blooming!" She'd seen his nostrils flare when she came into a room, too, come to think of it. He grinned at her. "Yes. It provided me with the kick I needed to come, too. Twice." She almost choked on the brandy. "Twice?!" "Well, three times if you count the one I had before you arrived. I needed to be professional. I still got wood by the time you left though, Wench." He tried to cross his legs, and thought better of it. She glanced at his lap, and noted the lump. She grinned. "Doctor, is that a speculum in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?" "Are you going to accept the friendship of my thighs, or are you going to let *this* go to waste?" He indicated his erection with a wave of the brandy snifter. She arose, and unbuttoning her shirt, took the two steps to his chair. She straddled his knees, and taking the last sip of brandy, reached to place the snifter on the table beside them. She sat down, and removed her shirt, leaving the white uniform tee shirt beneath. He noted she wore no bra, and her nipples were dark against the fabric beneath. She leaned in over his erection, and kissed him full on the mouth. Her tongue flicked at his lips, and then she withdrew slightly. Her mouth was still close to his, close enough that he could feel her lips brush his as she said "I accept the friendship of your thighs, John. Take me to bed?" He didn't need to be asked twice. He placed his glass beside hers on the table. He picked her up in one fluid motion, and carried her down the hall to the master bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist. He held her by her ass, loving the weight of her on him. Once inside the bedroom, he crawled on the bed, with her clinging to his torso beneath him, and lay on his side. She loosened her legs, and stretched out beside him. She took one of his hands in hers, and stared at it, and said quietly, "Yes, I could take this. I'm sure of it." She tilted her head and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He swallowed, visibly. She grinned. "How do you feel about spankings?" he asked. "I love them. I've damn good at giving them." He gulped again, and she could feel his erection jump. "I'm even better with a strap-on, I'm told!" He groaned. "I think I've died and gone to heaven!" "Tell me what you were thinking when you were smelling my sex on the gown?" He took a deep breath, and sat up. He reached down, and removed his shoes, and as he disrobed, he talked. "If you hadn't noticed, by the time you left, I was hard. It was that kiss you gave me. I went and got my nudie magazine, and tried to masturbate to it, but I couldn't. It just wasn't there. I kept shifting the image to you. So I went into the exam room, and grabbed the gown. I gave into the image of you, inhaled of your scent, and then used it to masturbate into. After I came, I still needed more. I imagined having you on my desk, first on your back, then standing, then with you on top of me. That's how I came the second time, you riding above me, coming on me." By now he was naked, and she drank in the sight of him from the bed. He lay beside her again, and she began to undress herself. In a moment she was back beside him. "Where do you keep the willy-wrappers, John?" "Where else? Top drawer of the nightstand." "Do you have any lube? I tend to get a bit dry" "There's a bottle of it in there. I only use non-lubricated condoms. They stay on better" She reached over and withdrew the items by feel. She opened the condom package, and noted it was a reservoir tip. She graped the reservoir in a two-finger pinch, and then deftly rolled the condom down over his erection. He groaned at her touch. She grinned. "You're about to come, John." He nodded, breathing measured. "Consider it a compliment, Wench." "Maybe you should, will you get hard again?" "I'd rather control it until later. Do you know the pinch trick?" "So well I think I invented it, Doc." "Good. Don't be afraid to use it if I ask" "Don't be surprised if I use it even if you don't ask!" He groaned. "Don't torment, Wench" "Only a little, Doc." Without warning, she took him swiftly and fully in her mouth, deeply, until he could feel the back of her throat, and then her pulling back, leaving him wet and slippery with her saliva. Then came the pinch, stopping him from exploding. He arched his hips up, and he made a sound of pain and want. He gasped. He hurt. He hadn't felt like this in years, and it felt good. He opened his eyes to see her face, and saw the want in her eyes. Along with sorrow. Along with her own pain. He took her in his arms, and rolling on top of her, spread her thighs with his leg, and then reached between them to feel her sex. She was wet, swollen and open. Her scent hit him. Fresh, it was potent, of want, and fear, and grieving. It was piquant, sharp. He closed his eyes, and dipping his face, tasted of her sex, swirling his tongue around her clit. She in turn gasped, and arched her hips up. He could feel her wetness flowing. He lapped and then rose, kneeling up. She opened her legs to him. He said "On top of me, Wench. On my thighs." She nodded, and arose, and he lay back, his erection back against his belly. She straddled him, and lifted it forward to her sex. He thought of icebergs. She noted his sudden stillness. She held his penis, watched it. It was dark, painful looking. She decided to make it quick for him. She placed it against her sex, and dropped onto it. She grasped it with her muscles, and watched his face. He was ready for her. Icebergs had done the trick, once again. He could feel her muscle contractions. He smiled. "You're good at those, Wench." She smiled. "Thank you. I try to please." "You succeed, woman." He reached down, and fondled her clit. She rose slightly to give him access, and felt her sex respond to his touch. She gasped. He cursed the darkness. "Wench, turn on the lamp, I want to see this." She leaned forward and over him, and turned on the lamp above them on the wall. She winced at the sudden brightness. "Much better. You're body-blushing. And your nipples, hard as rocks, and dark, too." He reached for them, cupping her breasts, and rubbing his thumbs over the tips. She leaned down, angled herself so that her clit rubbed against his pubic bone above his erection, and wriggled. She shuddered. She straightened, and then bracing herself on his chest, rode him slowly. He removed one hand from her breast, and fondled her clit again. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth open, face, breasts, belly flushed with arousal and near to climax. She stopped moving, held herself up, and let him fondle her clit. Her breathing became gasps, and she stiffened on him, and he felt the first wave of contractions. He thrust upwards, and she stayed there, taking him into her, and he repeated the thrust as she came. She threw her face upwards, and howled her orgasm. He answered in kind with his own. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+