Message-ID: <45349asstr$1068858602@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <200311141443.hAEEhpJU014948@nyx10.nyx.net> From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon) Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 14 Nov 2003 07:43:51 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} rp "Foretaste 2" {Uther} (MF wl) [2/4] x-asstr-message-id-hack: 45349 Date: Fri, 14 Nov 2003 20:10:02 -0500 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: dennyw, RuiJorge 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, 1997 & 2001, Uther Pendragon. All rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting requires previous permission. If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to me at anon584c@nyx.net. If you save erotic stories and you prefer that other household members not be exposed to them, I recommend that you use a file zipped with the PKZip option -spassword. (Where the password that you choose would, presumably, not be "password.") This still leaves the titles of the files and the fact that they are encrypted open to anybody. 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. # # # # Foretaste Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net Part 2: Continued from Part 1 The next day on my way home from campus, though, I did worry about it. (In a full-length rain coat, I needn't fear thinking about Jeanette's sexiness in public.) Sure, she had priorities which came before me even now. If I tried to hold those firm breasts or those sexy buttocks while she was cooking, she would chase me away. It was sweet agony to watch her dress on holidays for the university which her company didn't take. Sure, a full- time student would behave worse. I remembered writing papers while she fell asleep alone; I knew I would get that back with interest when she was the student. But motherhood, much less pregnancy, was full-time in the way that neither of these was. Lamb chops took a few minutes to grill, even a cake was baked in a few hours. A bun spent nine months in the oven. And it would occupy the parts of her that I loved most. For that matter, Jeanette was already committed to breast-feeding. Since that would give my son the healthiest start in life, I wasn't about to argue. On the other hand, that would give our son priority in what had been *my* playground for the last decade. On still yet another hand, the wife of a colleague was quite visibly pregnant. I love my wife, don't get me wrong; and I'm certainly not about to break the seventh commandment. But Sarah Thorsen was so sleekly sexy with her swelling belly, that I'd already broken the tenth. Whatever hand I'd gotten to by the time I came in sight of my outer door, all that was irrelevant. The decision was about what was good for Jeanette. That lively mind was entitled to all the pleasures that I had enjoyed first. Would she really prefer the pleasures of parenthood to that? That evening, however, she didn't raise the issue. Neither did she Tuesday or Wednesday. Thursday morning, I was mentally preparing myself for the first class while the two of us were eating breakfast. She isn't a morning person, and our breakfast conversations tend to be short and practical. "I'm going to be a total mess tomorrow night." She said out of the blue. "That's too bad." Jeanette doesn't usually complain about her periods. But if she wanted sympathy, she would get it. "Could I have games tonight?" This surprised me. Once upon a time, I had instituted the idea of 'games' to diversify our sexual encounters. On alternate Friday nights, I would get to pick something adventurous; on the other Fridays, Jeanette would get to pick what she wanted, seldom what I would call 'adventurous.' As we experienced some of that diversity, the category of 'normal' sex grew. Both from that, and from the failure of some of my proposals, the category of 'adventurous' sex shrank. My games became less frequent, hers almost disappeared. Still, unless something else intervened, we went to bed earlier on Friday nights and went to sleep later. But! She could have control *any* time she asked, and she knew that. And we didn't get adventurous during her period, anyway -- barring her occasional oral ministrations. Besides, Tuesday and Thursday were our nights for evening classes. Anyway, I heeded that warning. I spent my office time making sure that I was ready for the Friday lectures. I came straight home from my evening class, but Jeanette -- who had the car -- beat me home and to the bathroom. I made my preparations in there, including another shave. She was in bed and naked when I got there. I greeted her with a deep kiss. When she broke the kiss, she said, "I thought that this was my game." "Anything you want." "Remember that 'T' thing you liked." I remembered it well. She would lie down on her back; I would lie down on my side across the bed; I would fit into her that way. I also remembered that she hadn't liked it. I could pet her like that, but only our groins touched naturally. She preferred much more body contact. I reached down to caress her groove. "Do you want me like that?" "Please!" I fitted myself to her and pressed inward. She was a little drier than I liked, but she -- as she had asked -- was in charge. She passed me the KY; with that lubrication, I was soon within her. The rest of my groin was pressed into her seat. "You asked for this," I reminded her. It is a better position when I'm doing a lot more petting. "Bob, are you really ashamed of me?" she asked. "Ashamed of you? No! I think that we have better positions, but you put up with my experiments." "Ashamed of my education -- my lack of education. Your friends have doctorates, or almost. Your family...." My sister is in her second year of medical school after taking all the psychology she could as a chem major; my father has an MBA after getting a *good* bachelor's in economics; my mother took courses after getting an MAT in art history. "Does my family snub you?" I knew the answer to that. "They are all very sweet." To her. My sister has said that she can't understand what Jeanette sees in me, and Dad isn't above asking whether I'm treating her well enough. But they never snub *her*. "Does the department?" There I'm totally without leverage. Instructors don't get their way on anything. "Not really." Having softened a little, I moved out and in twice. If I had continued much longer, I wouldn't have been able to stop. "Do you want my hands on you?" There is very little else I could do in that position. "I want to have this conversation." As far as I was concerned, we'd had this conversation. But I shut up; it was Jeanette's night. "If you're not ashamed of me, why is it so important to have me back in school?" "Jeanette, think for a moment! When you go back to school, the faculty *will* snub you. Not exactly snub, but you'll be an undergraduate. Right now, you're the wife of an instructor. You're the equal of other instructors, since their spouses are their equals -- maybe a little junior to assistant professors and such, but so am I. "Anyway, their only way to relate to you will be as an undergraduate. I'm not trying to raise my status by raising yours." "Then why," she asked, "is it important?" "Two reasons.... "You gave up a college education in order to marry me. I want it to be a delay, and not an abandonment. Second, you have the active sort of mind that enjoys engagement with ideas. I don't want to stifle that. That's why it's important, not some fear that people are going to look down on you." "Bob!" I shut up, but she didn't continue for a minute. "Bob, I did give up a college education in order to marry you. We are a family, and I've never regretted it." She squeezed me then, and moved against me and around me. I had to hold back from moving in response. "Well, almost never," she amended. "I didn't give up any engagement with ideas. First of all, I was never one of your sort of students. I didn't stay after class." "You were always bright." Freshmen don't stay after class, as a rule. And she had only been a freshman. We'd cut her education off after that. "I talked about ideas with *you*. Beginning in high school. I'm a good student who gets good grades. I work hard, worked fairly hard even that year when you were taking me out all the time." She took a deep breath. "I sit down all the time to earn our living. I handled that stinky paper I hated that first year. I clean and cook and pick up after you. I've gotten up at an indecent hour every day for years." "And it's been worth it," she concluded, "to have a family with you. I didn't give up classroom discussions. Married to you, I've had more intellectual discussions than any other time in my life." Now, she wasn't being fair to herself. "The discussions of current events were your idea." "Most of the stories on historical events were my ideas, Bob. But I just push a button, and you roll them out." She pushed my belly button to illustrate. My squirming was turning me on, probably turning her on too. "Why," I asked, "are we in this position?" "Because I can't argue with you when I'm in your arms." Then she remembered that the alternative for a family meeting was sitting down in the living room or at the dining table. "And I think that we should discuss having children in bed." Now, to be terribly technical, we hadn't discussed having children at all. But the connection between our son and our bed was that he would be conceived there. At that idea, I hardened. Jeanette noticed. "Oh, Bob, you think with him so often, why are you two so opposed on this issue?" Now, I don't think with my phallus. I hardly ever think with my phallus. And I wasn't really opposed to having children. But I backed up the conversation a couple of steps. "Or you figure that I can't argue with you when I'm in your vagina." "Bob, you can argue any time," she said. "That's part of what I love about you, don't you see? That's part of all those times when you talk to me." She reached down to tickle between my thighs. Then her hand cuddled my scrotal sack. I lurched within her, almost coming. "Come up here and finish this. We can finish this around the kitchen table another time." "Unless you have decided already." That didn't seem very likely, really. If she was about to start her period, then leaving out the contraceptive would hardly make a baby likely. "I wouldn't do that to you," she said earnestly. "I want us to be a family, and a family decides these things together." So I rolled over, and out of her. On my way 'up here' I kissed her breasts thoroughly, sucking each nipple in turn. Despite that, despite the earlier artificial lubrication, she was less juicy than she usually was when I reached her entrance. I started to back up, but she reached down to pull the base of my phallus inward. She was wet enough for entry, and the excitement from the greater friction started me on my pattern of moving in and out. She pressed up against me on every in-stroke. Her hands moved up my arms and then down my torso to my waist. "I can't," I said, meaning that I couldn't hold back at all. "Bob!" she said as I sped up. The orgasm was boiling upward and out my phallus. As I pressed deeply within her, she rolled her hips to meet me and pulled me in by my butt. I shot into that welcoming heat. "Yes," she said and squeezed my butt. And then "yes," again, to welcome each of two more shots and finally a fourth. Seconds after the last shot, I collapsed on her. She moved her hands up and hugged me. Occasionally, she patted me on my back. When my energy finally came back, she handed me a Kleenex. I cleaned myself off as I came out. Then I rolled over as she cleaned herself and the bed off. I was far enough over in the bed that she missed the wet spot when she cuddled against me. I reached down to her mound. She pulled my hand upwards. "It's still my night," she said. "You didn't." "*You* did," she replied. "And quite enthusiastically, too. Don't you see that's the same thing." I not only couldn't see, I couldn't guess what it was the same as. But she continued. "Bob, you want me to have whatever you enjoy. Now, I can't complain. That's love." "I do love you." "Oh you do! And that's wonderful. And that's so different from what I was used to. Don't you see? I gave up some things; but I didn't give up what you think, and I didn't give them up so Bob could have something for himself. I gave them up so I could be married to Bob." "You are the sweetest girl." "I'm perfectly serious. I'm Mrs. Robert Brennan. I wanted to be and I am. You hug me, and you talk to me, and you come home every night to me. And I know you always will. You look at those old magazines and those young coeds; but, when you spill out all that lust, it's finally in me. And, as long as you do, I'll always have a place in your life and in your heart." "That's unfair," I said. "I've loved you forever and ever." "Well, you do love me. Nobody else does -- ever did. And, when you want me to have fun in classes like you did, that's your love talking. And I love you for it. And, when you say, 'Oops, Bob had an orgasm; Jeanette didn't,' that's love talking again. Do you want to give me an orgasm so that score will be more even?" Put like that, I didn't. "Are you saying that you don't really enjoy sex?" "Oh no! Once upon a time, maybe. But, even then, I enjoyed your orgasm our first time in a tent. And I enjoyed yours a few minutes ago. But, what you were really asking, of course I enjoy mine. Can't you tell? And that is because of you. Twice! Because you taught me to enjoy them, because you taught me to have them, because I could trust you enough to have one in your arms. I couldn't ever imagine losing control that way, but Bob would hold me and pet me and want me to come. "I enjoy sex the way you do, if not always. But I enjoy sex many more ways than you do. I enjoy seeing *your* climaxes, they are fun in an entirely different way, and they are profound, too. Do you realize how much you trust me? Do you realize how much this means?" "I love you," I couldn't think of anything else to say. "You do. I don't think you meant love right then, but Bob loves me. You don't know how often I told myself that our first year: Bob loves me, and Bob wants me. "And," she continued another thought, "I enjoy having you hug me and hugging you. I enjoy having you inside me." "I enjoy hugging you, too," I told her. "Who insisted on the skin-to-skin in the first place? If you haven't guessed, I enjoy being inside you, too. We couldn't do it for long face-to-face, but we could lie with me inside you like this all night." She giggled. "It wasn't a guess, Bob." She reached back and fitted Junior into the crease between her buttocks. "Still my game." "I didn't think you liked that T shape." "I don't. I mean, I like having you next to me. "Look," she continued, "how important is this college stuff to you? And is it that, or is it not having a baby?" "Same question back at you. You know, you're awfully eager to have a baby growing in you, taking up space inside. You're awfully eager to have a kid screaming in the next room, taking up your time and attention. He'd have to be your priority, you know. Parents act that way." "Do you really think I'd neglect you?" she asked. "No. I'm really more afraid of you're neglecting you. You do for me, you know. That's what this is about, you neglected your education for me. Now are you going to neglect your education for my son?" "I told you. I didn't neglect my education for you. In the first place, as I said, I wanted to be Mrs. Bob Brennan. I made sacrifices for that, and I would make them again in a minute...." "You would Jeanette? Has it been good?" "I would. There have been one hell of a lot more pleasant surprises than unpleasant. You know, sex was a sacrifice I was prepared to make for you." "I'd have never asked you to give up sex." How could she think I would? "No. I was prepared to give you sex for the hugs I needed." "I'm sorry." I love sex; I won't pretend I don't. But it's not something which should please only one person. "Don't be. I said 'prepared.' That wasn't good enough for you. How much you could make me enjoy sex was one surprise. Anyway, I needed the hugs and I still do, if not so often and not so much. And I enjoy them when I don't really need them. Anyway, I didn't expect to suffer through sex; I'm not a Victorian. I just knew that you needed the sex like I needed the hugs. I sure didn't need the sex back then." "Back then?" I asked. "Yes, you egotist. You have addicted me. I need you now. Are you satisfied?" Well, I felt better. "You didn't seem to need me ten minutes ago." Maybe it was longer. "I needed you. I asked for you. I just didn't need a climax. Really, I enjoyed one; I told you so. I just didn't want a Jeanette climax." Well, I certainly enjoy her orgasms; but I want my own, too. Maybe it is a man/woman thing. Maybe it is just a Bob/Jeanette thing. "I love you," I said. That's one certainty among all the peculiarities. "I know you do," she said. "You want good for me. It's just sometimes you want *your* good for me." Was that what I had been doing? I held her close and thought about that. The night brought no more revelations, and Jeanette was no more lively than usual at breakfast. Continued in Part 3. Foretaste Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net 1997/05/08 1997/10/21 2000/04/07 2001/11/25 2002/10/21 2003/11/14 This is one of a series of stories about the Brennans. The next story in the series is: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/brennan/effort.htm "For Effort" The directory to the entire series is: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/brennan.htm Brennan Stories Directory The directory to all my stories can be found at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm -- 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: Moderators: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at Hosted by | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+