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Message-ID: <46983asstr$1078121405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "virgosun" <virgosun@internode.on.net>
Subject: {ASSM} To Those Who Wait 04 {virgosun} (MF cons rom)
Lines: 528
Date: Mon,  1 Mar 2004 01:10:05 -0500
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Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Oops, left off part 4!


She woke disoriented, not sure of anything in the gentle 
light from behind the cabin blind. Realised she still 
didn't have her knickers on. The sheet lay over and 
between them - Tom must have draped it over them when he 
came to bed. He was curled up in the linen. The bedroom 
was a mess, blanket crumpled against the door, discarded 
clothing tossed about, her knickers in clear view on the 
floor. It looked like a den of debauchery, and yet 
nothing had happened other than...

She felt as if she'd gotten drunk and now couldn't quite 
remember the night before...God knew it had been half a 
lifetime or more since she'd had that feeling...but 
there was no hangover. Tom snored quietly. She gathered 
some day clothes and headed for the shower with some 
trepidation. Had he really..? The bathroom was as clean 
and innocuous as ever, although his boxers had been left 
empty on the floor, which meant he was wearing?

She showered and dressed, bundled her knickers into the 
dirty clothes' bag, and tiptoed off to breakfast.

Another relaxing, languid day at sea awaited. With the 
coming of a brisk breeze, the heaviest heat lifted. She 
caught up on reading or crosswords, watched Brendan 
having fun with cousins, chatted or played pass-the-baby 
with other mums of the clan. Ryan showed up in those 
shorts, and somehow, their effect was lost on her today. 
This she attributed to her relieving herself the evening 
before. He was still pleasant to the eye, that would 
always be the case, but not so fascinating as before.

Later on, Tom also appeared and joined Neil and Ryan, 
three mates fishing on the afterdeck, laughing and 
chatting, enjoying a light ale. Just like any other day 
at sea. But something had changed. Pam found herself 
watching Tom, noticing everything from the sport on his 
face as he bantered with his friends, to the shape of 
his legs and how his neatly-tailored shorts fitted him. 
Which led to naughty thoughts about spanking, and a 
devilrous urge to lightly whack him on the backside 
should he walk by. Of course she was far too civilised 
to yield to the impulse, but the mischievous thought 
kept her smiling to herself for much of the day.

As evening settled, she went below to get a lightweight 
jacket, and was startled to find the cabin tidily made. 
It was as though last night had truly been a dream. But 
now they knew things about each other beyond their 
wildest respective imaginings. It was a dream that would 
not be forgotten, for she was thinking of Tom in ways 
that had never occurred to her before.

She was wondering what the touch of his hands might feel 
like. Watching him speak, and how his lips might play 
upon hers. Wishing she had run her fingertips along the 
curves of his body as he had lain there beside her.

Wondered what their last night of sharing might bring.

Although decorous as ever when they spoke, his eyes 
lingered upon her, smiling, a light in their depths. 
After dinner there was music, singing, and a little 
dancing that she shared with most of the men of the 
family. When Tom's turn came she locked eyes with him, 
and although he turned her about as ably and chastely as 
ever, there was something irresistibly flirtatious and 
intent at once in that gaze.

As usual, she started yawning earlier in the evening 
than others. Tom nodded and smiled, acknowledging, as 
she made her goodnights. It disappointed her that he 
seemed nothing like ready to follow her downstairs. She 
took a long, slow shower, then wandered naked into the 
bedroom, taking her time deciding what to wear to bed 
tonight. Something special to celebrate their last night 
at sea? It was still very warm, but not so uncomfortable 
as the night before. One of his pyjama shirts? She 
giggled a little as she slipped one on, but the fabric 
was rather heavy and hot, so she folded it away again. 
She fretted over her underwear selection. Lacy and sexy 
had gone by the wayside in her widow years; they were 
feminine but practical, nothing special, so she put on 
all that was left to her. Or what about a pair of his 
boxers? Again, she held back. What were the chances he'd 
dismiss last night as passing lunacy?

She had a fresh summer nightie, a bit longer than the 
other one, so finally dived under the sheet feeling a 
lot more decent than last night. She'd only just picked 
up a book when Tom arrived, earlier than usual.

She glanced at him over her reading glasses. "Sure you 
wouldn't like to leave the bathroom door open?" she said 
mischievously. He just laughed as he gathered a pair of 
boxers and pyjama pants, and headed for the bathroom - 
closing the door behind him.

"Yes, must have been dreaming last night." She put down 
her book and glasses, and put the light out. Something 
naughty and tantalising had turned back into dull and 
spinsterly middle-aged. Tom should emerge from the 
shower dripping and naked and pin her to the bed, 
covering her with passionate kisses. Or better still, 
she should be an assertive modern woman and go in there 
and climb under the shower rose with him, so that her 
nightwear would cling to her full breasts and erect 
nipples, and he would be unable to deny her. But of 
course, he'd have locked the door.

Wouldn't he?

It took her a moment to decide to try it. The shower had 
stopped, so he was probably getting dressed anyway, and 
she could make some excuse about forgetting to floss or 
something...With utmost care and stealth, she eased the 
doorknob around. And the panel opened.

He was at the vanity, his back to her and already 
dressed, leaning close to the mirror to trim his beard. 
She enjoyed the sight of the smooth sweep of his bare 
back, and didn't hesitate. Stepping up to him, she put 
her arms around his waist, pressing her pelvis to his 
rump and hugging him. He felt wonderful! Just to embrace 
a man was a simple pleasure sorely missed.

"Mm hmm?" His body shook with gentle laughter as she 
moulded herself to him. He made no other move, and she 
let her hands explore. He had tautened his belly, and 
she ran her fingers out to the crests of his hips, and 
the bunched waistband of his pyjamas, then followed that 
cloth border around to the front again. There, she found 
the knot, and the cords. Drawstring pyjamas were the 
very best kind! In the mirror she could see he had set 
down his grooming scissors and waited, a big grin on his 
face, to see what she was up to. Taking the strings 
firmly, she gave a good tug, and stepped back a little 
to allow his pants to drop away.

Underneath was a thin layer of light linen over his 
nicely-shaped backside. "I've been wanting to do this 
all day," said Pam saucily. And she briskly smacked him 
on each cheek, enjoying the firm, resilient feel of him. 
His mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"Pamela!" He spun around, hampered by his fallen pants, 
so she fled giggling to the bed and dived under the 
sheet. Hitching the trousers up again, he tied the knot 
methodically, laughing lightly, face slightly rosy. He 
walked around and climbed into bed beside her. "I'm the 
one who's supposed to be naughty, not you."

"You've been naughty enough, making me think naughty 
things all day," she chided. He lay on his back, but 
turned his face toward her, smiling.

"Really? Tell me, what sort of naughty thoughts?"

She rolled onto her side, facing him. "Ohh, silly little 
things...I never really thought of you as a sexual 
creature before," she added seriously. Although that 
wasn't exactly true since his testimony of Linda's 
infidelity. Words like "boring" had stuck in her mind 
somehow. Silly Linda had such a short attention span she 
would have found a three-ring circus boring. Had she 
ever lain still long enough to listen and let Tom tease 
her mind as well as her body? Unlikely.

"You mean to say that all these years you've been immune 
to my undeniable machismo? I'm insulted!" he said, droll 
and self-deprecating. Then he sobered. "With Mark in the 
foreground, and given I'm your brother-in-law, that's 
probably a good thing."

"Yes, but also redundant these days. It's too easy to 
get stuck in old ways of thinking, and this has made a 
refreshing change." She smiled fondly at that face so 
familiar yet so new, and so oddly intimate on a pillow 
beside her. "Of course, other things have helped too. 
Your new lifestyle, your hair, this." She raised a hand 
to stroke his beard, finding the silken texture of neat 
whiskers very pleasing. "New Tom's much, much sexier 
than Old Tom."

His eyes glowed with merriment, underscored by something 
much more enduring. Rolling toward her, he gently took 
her hand, and brought her fingers to his lips. "Someone 
I know has never been anything but lovely. I used to 
tell myself it was because she was unattainable. I 
wonder if she will stay that way?"

That gentle kiss, and the velvet in his words together 
stirred feelings she had thought long lost to her. No 
man had moved her since Mark; she had been old and cold. 
Warm embers sparked and fired. At first she couldn't 
quite believe what she was hearing. "I...you...surely 
you're not talking about...me?"

"Goodnight, Pam," he said softly, leaning forward to 
brush her forehead with his lips. Then he rolled over.

*Was that it?* she found herself asking yet again. Was 
that all she was going to get? After all the years, 
anger and frustration billowed. "Thomas Franklin, don't 
you dare turn your back on me!" she declared 
imperiously.

"Tomorrow we go back to our new lives, hundreds of miles 
apart. How were we going to celebrate our last night 
together? Wham bam thankyou ma'am?"

"Statistically speaking, the chances would have been 
good," she said stiffly.

"Let's have a screw because we're lonely and desperate 
and it's our last chance and then off we go? Grab the 
opportunity and root in a ditch by a sunflower paddock? 
Well, no thanks, I'd rather not cheapen our friendship 
so, so let's go home and not complicate anything because 
our relationship ain't broke and doesn't need fixing."

She sat up angrily. "How dare you compare me to Linda!"

"I don't want sex, I want love," he muttered, "I've been 
waiting half a lifetime and I'm getting pretty bloody 
tired of waiting."

He was huddled on his side, facing away, bunched up in 
the sheets. "Jesus, Tom," she muttered, the anger 
draining from her. She lay down again and put her arm 
around him, snuggling herself to his back.

"Tom, if I didn't care, I wouldn't be here now."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound like I was 
making unfortunate comparisons, that wasn't my intent," 
he said. Then he tossed and wriggled around to face her 
again. "I just..." There was pain in his eyes, and a 
keen light. "If this evening had...panned out 
differently...I wanted it to be for all the right 
reasons, not the wrong ones. For love, not pity or 
loneliness."

"Making love, as opposed to having sex."

He nodded gratefully. "I'm tired of feeling like second-
hand goods, and I'd never dream of hurting you." He drew 
his fingertips along her cheekbone. "I would do anything 
to please you."

"Tom," she said huskily, "I want a man who can satisfy 
me. That's something I've never known, did you know 
that? I want love, and I want a love that lasts more 
than five minutes. I want a lover like I've never known 
before...and I want to have him forever." She stroked 
his bearded chin again, this time brushing the edge of 
his lip. "Something is telling me you might be the one, 
and if I don't find out we'll both be poorer for it."

"You're the only woman left that I can trust, Pam." 
Turning his head ever so slightly, he trapped her 
fingertip softly between his lips.

"Your trust means everything to me, dear Tom. And the 
night is young."

Their lips had touched before; only ever briefly, 
formally, and very rarely. Now, it was a delight to let 
such a kiss draw out, linger; pause, then resume, 
unhurried and without any guilt at the pleasure of it. 
His beard made her skin tingle; his long straight nose 
nuzzling hers. He slipped his hand around to the nape of 
her neck and up, his fingers losing themselves in the 
soft mass of her hair, combing and playing with it in a 
way that suggested he had long wondered how it felt. And 
whenever she thought of how long, it seemed, he had 
admired her, her heart ached and she wanted to make up 
for lost time.

She ran her hand over the cool curves of his shoulder, 
pulling her body closer, finding his feet with hers. His 
tongue peeped between her lips as passion grew; her 
tongue raced up to peck it then run away, begging him 
chase her. His hair was velvet-bristly between her 
fingers as she drew him into a deep French kiss that 
seemed to last forever. And that was just the entree.

Their kisses made them friends no longer. Well-
conditioned by the years, her sexual centres were 
responding, her crotch throbbing, every sensation 
sharpened by the knowing that she would not be pleasured 
by herself, but another; a loving and familiar man. His 
lips left hers and roved along her throat, hands moving 
to cup her breasts through the cotton gown. She ran her 
foot up his ankle and leg, catching the hem of his pants 
with a toe so that she could feel the coarse manly 
texture of his skin. His chest was smooth and warm, and 
as she moved her hands along his ribs and down toward 
his waist, his hands followed hers but along her body, 
seeking the hem of her nightie, pulling the fabric up, 
finding access. She had taken her breasts for granted, 
her natural cleavage. Had he been secretly admiring them 
for all this time?

A night ago, she had dangled them before him while he 
slept, unaware of how thrilling his touch would be. He 
drew back a little, wonder in his eyes as he gazed at 
their naked fullness by lamplight, pressing them up into 
magnificent mounds. While he admired her, her questing 
leg hooked over his, pulling their lower bodies 
together. And laying there was something she had 
resigned herself to never knowing. At first she thought 
it the knot of his pyjamas - but that was also there, 
much higher up. Something else definite was pressing 
against her lower belly, and she gave a small gasp. 
Something she wanted. Needed.

Tom raised himself up to gain better access to her 
breasts, taking his time to cover her chest in kisses. 
When his lips found one nipple and joined forces with 
his tongue to kiss and suck, she gasped again as her 
clitoris throbbed. Her womanhood seemed to open wide and 
wet with desire, and when her hands reached down to find 
the stuff of dreams, every muscle and nerve flashed with 
hot pleasure.

From between the folds of his clothing...It wasn't so 
much his length as his diameter, how he filled her hand 
that astonished her. A thick, hard column beneath soft, 
sliding skin; she was almost afraid to move her hand 
lest he erupt and the wonderful feeling be lost. Her 
heart thundered beneath his lips. Feeling her stillness 
and her agog gaze upon him, he lifted his face to smile, 
and slowly, easily, rocked his pelvis while she held 
him.

"My God, Tom, won't you...come?"

He just smiled. Lowering a hand to hers, he encouraged 
her to slowly stroke his full length. While he lowered 
his lips to her nipple again, he untied and got rid of 
his clothing.

"Lie on your back, my love," he murmured, kneeling and 
gathering her gown and lifting it off as she changed 
position. Now she let her eyes do the touching, from his 
reverent face down the lines of his torso; down past 
navel to the nest of pubes grey-frosted as were her own. 
From there rose his strong, impossibly-patient shaft, 
still large.

"Why do we have to wait for the very best things?" she 
wondered, reaching out to touch him again. He shuffled 
closer and straddled her waist, moving closer and 
closer, so that now she could feel his pouch warm and 
soft caressing her stomach as he moved.

"Perhaps hunger is the best sauce...oh, Pamela, I never 
thought I would see you like this!" He cupped her 
breasts in his hands, pulling them up to embrace his 
penis, and rocked to and fro. It felt wonderful, and his 
light musk only heightened her need.

"Don't come here, Tom, come inside me, that's where I 
need you!" She didn't even have her soaking wet panties 
off - unlike last night, they were the last to go, and 
she got rid of them quickly. Again, he gave his 
enigmatic smile, then started moving back down her body, 
trailing kisses down her midline. At her hips, he was 
still straddling her, and this time he pushed his penis 
firmly down between her thighs. His cockhead tormented 
her clit by slipping over it.

Immediately she thrust her pelvis up and tried to get 
her legs apart, giving a small groan of frustration. He 
did it twice more before raising his hips and freeing 
her, so that she spread her legs wide apart and he knelt 
between them. He found the place, and with almost 
ceremonial slowness, pressed into her and filled the 
emptiness.

Pam moaned as a wondrous, stretching sensation grew 
within her. Her own body wanted to twitch and jerk 
about, to dance as if on live wires, and the urging 
built as that fullness started to slide, back and 
forward. Her eyes were locked with Tom's awestruck gaze. 
"Twenty years," he breathed as he slowly thrust. "I've 
waited twenty years for this moment!"

Pam could not answer, her throat and body coiled at the 
point of orgasm. Instead she clutched at his buttocks, 
trying to drag him ever deeper into her, to pull herself 
onto him, to have his every last rigid centimetre...to 
hold his hardness inside and embrace it fully, for as 
long as she could.

"Easy, love, what's the hurry? We have all night." But 
his voice came from a long way away as she hit the 
heights of orgasm. She had never thought it ladylike to 
scream or holler, especially in shared accommodations, 
and Mark would not have liked her to bellow. But there 
was no containing the soft cries of delight that helped 
her joy find an outlet.

And when her body relaxed, agonising white heat cooling 
to a warm hum, Tom's shaft still moved inside her, 
rhythm picking up and stimulating. After childbirth she 
had dutifully stuck at her perineal exercises and was 
now grateful for it, for she could clench those muscles 
and feel him even more keenly. He felt it too, for he 
glanced at her quizzically, so she did it again and he 
smiled, and changed his stroke again; plunge in, ease 
out. Her breath caught, feeling his wonderful motion and 
solidity within, her body pulsating in resonance. She 
was going to come again.

"You beautiful man!" She clung to him, their legs 
interlaced; felt his rump rippling as he drove 
tirelessly into her. Surely he would come soon! He was 
picking up speed, and their bodies were slick with 
sweat.

But then, he pulled right out, and lay over on his back. 
"Come on, I want you up here, I want you as many ways as 
we can!" His erection pointed up toward his navel, and 
he raised it up with one hand, an irresistible pole.

Pam needed no further invitation. She hesitated for a 
moment as his glans tickled her clit - hesitated as a 
diver before taking a joyous plunge. She thrust herself 
down upon that slick column good and hard, leaping and 
diving, while he bent his back and brought his lips to 
her nipples again. Pleasure rose up in her in waves, 
climbing and falling, again and again, higher with each 
thrust, and he may as well have been made of iron.

"My ex would have been bored to tears by now!" he 
panted, eyes afire with love and joy on his face. Pam's 
only answer was to gasp and whimper, a great tremor 
shivering through her. He thought of her shaking the 
night before and arched himself again, bringing more 
whimpers from her as the pleasure took her for a second 
time. At last, she slumped upon him, catching her 
breath. He was still smiling, and still rock-solid 
within.

She raised herself up again, now using her body to 
stroke him, gliding up and down. "Let's do something 
else," he suggested. "Although watching you come - 
that's something I could watch over and over!" His hands 
curled beneath her thighs, lifting her. She was 
reluctant to dismount, to let that cock escape, and rose 
away from him very, very slowly, eyes dark with 
disappointment as his head slipped from her.

He rolled from beneath her, surging to his knees to 
kneel behind her. Wrapping himself around her, he 
nuzzled her neck and shoulder, arms snug around her 
waist and breasts, his inner thighs pressing her rump. 
His stiffness rubbed her buttocks, standing hard against 
her sacrum. They rocked together, closer than any dream. 
At last, she pushed his hands down her body, to her 
hips, leaning forward and rolling her still-pulsing 
womanhood upward. He found her moist well, and their 
bodies meshed again. Her moan of delight was deep as his 
hardness entered her.

Was it possible she would come yet again? He was still 
moulded around her at first, hands clasped over her 
swinging breasts as they rocked. But now his tempo was 
picking up pace and his body slowly straightened, hands 
travelling to her hips and kneading her buttocks. He 
drove hard against her now, so that their skin slapped, 
and she could feel the soft buffeting of his balls 
bouncing against her.

"You have got...the most beautiful...god you're lovely!" 
he gasped, driving harder and faster, his thighs taut. 
She could just see him in the dresser mirror, and 
engorged muscles gave his body shape, stripping the 
years from him. Could twenty years lost become twenty 
years regained, to enjoy all over again?

She felt his penis jerk as he came at last, shivers of 
empathic pleasure taking her as well. Together, they 
sagged to the rumpled bedding. Even then, he didn't slip 
away quickly. They both lay as still as possible, she 
still clenching upon him fitfully until finally, his 
bulbous head slipped free, leaving a warm tingling of 
satiety. Spent, they slumped together, resting, until 
finding the energy to crawl into each others' arms.

"Tom," she whispered, caressing his face. So familiar 
and so close. Eyes lit with wonder, as though he could 
not believe his good fortune. "Why...did it take so 
long?"

His smile was whimsical, almost smug. "I guess I was 
just born that way."

"No, you silly thing! I meant...for this night to come 
about..." She squeezed him and kissed his brow tenderly. 
"It was a rhetorical question."

"Time for you to grieve...for me to see the truth about 
Linda..." He pressed his lips to hers with more 
assertiveness, more passion, and she melted against him 
as her mouth responded. "I'm not going to let this end, 
Pamela," he said huskily. "We'll rest for now, but 
later..."

"Ohh good, you intend to do this to me again?"

"That, and more, if you wish," he purred, letting his 
fingertips slip across her damp bush. As he kissed her, 
he let his tongue demonstrate to hers what it may well 
be capable of down below.

Pam shivered in delight and anticipation. "I wish," she 
murmured, nuzzling him. "But what's the hurry?"

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