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Message-ID: <47325asstr$1081455003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Gil Gamesh" <gil04gamesh@cox.net>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 08 Apr 2004 12:28:54 EDT
Subject: {ASSM} The Measure of Man, Chapter 01
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Date: Thu,  8 Apr 2004 16:10:03 -0400
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The Measure of Man is a story of love and sex in the lives of a husband, a
wife, and their three children. The story spans almost four decades in their
lives and tells of their love for each other and for individuals outside the
primary family. The sexual acts described vary greatly but all are within
the realm of those practiced by normal human beings. The Measure of Man is
an epic adventure and will be told in approximately forty chapters.
Twenty-five chapters (1,449 KB) have been completed. Additional chapters
will be published at no specific schedule.

Codes: MF FF mf Mf mF MM Mult fant rom 1st teen cons het group voy safe oral
anal pett lac preg

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gil_Gamesh/www/

Feedback is always welcomed. Use your sissors on my e-mail address to send
comments, criticisms, or requests to:

gil04gameshcutthisout@cox.net


THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

01 - In the Beginning

As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and
night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let
your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the
little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in
your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

<><><>

CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 33 in story, 25 in flashback
Sioned (Kelly) Stuart, 32 in story, 24 in flashback
Kavan Stuart, 6 in story
Arial Stuart, 4 in story 
Kerry Stuart, one month from birth as story is told

TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart
Sioned Stuart

(KIERAN)
 
It was early on Saturday night but we had gone to bed just as
soon as Kavan and Arial had been bathed and put to bed.  The room
was dark and we were quiet, resting, curled up together spoon
fashion. We were both naked, as close together as could be.  My
hand was curled around Sioned, holding her breast, already
engorged to begin functioning in about a month as a milk source.
My cock was soft but warm and swollen, pressed against her. I was
wondering if the time had come to stop getting my sex from my
wife and start getting it from my hand.

My wife, as was usual now, was resting on her side, with a long
pillow between her knees and partly under her distended belly.

"Are you sleepy yet?" I asked.

"No, Kieran," she replied, "just a wee bit tired."

"Mind if I talk to you?" I asked.

She snuggled back against me a little more. "You know it's OK. 
That's one of the things I like most about going to bed like
this. So we can be together here in the dark and talk to each
other."

"Yeah," I said, "talking is nice.  I want to talk about something
that's one of the best parts of marriage."

"All the sex you want?" she asked.

"That's an important part.  But doing just what we're doing now
means just as much to me."

"We're not doing anything, Kieran."

"Nothing? Your butt up against me, with nothing between us - to
curl up together like this - with my hand on your breast, that's
nothing?"

"I apologize, Kieran, I think I do feel a little something."

"That's my dick, Sioned. I'm talking about how this makes me
feel."

"Horny?"

"When we go to sleep like this, spooned up, it leaves me with
more contentment than I could've ever imagined."

"I hope we'll feel the same when we're sixty," she said. "I can
hardly imagine it. I guess our sex life will cool off, as we get
older.  I hope just being close and held like this'll still make
me happy at that age."

"Even if I'm bald and have false teeth?" I joked.

"If you're worried about your teeth, get up and floss," she
answered.

"How do you and the baby feel?" I asked.

"The baby's quiet now," she answered. "I'm glad he's stopped
playing trampoline on my bladder.  I'm fine too.  Whether you can
believe it or not, this third pregnancy has been the easiest of
all."

We had agreed to stop after two children.  We didn't know how
this one was conceived, almost four years after the last one,
with Sioned on the pill.   We both loved the first two. We
couldn't have wanted children more perfect than Kavan and Arial.
Even if this one wasn't planned, I was still as happy to be
having this one as I was with the others.

"Are you OK with having this little accident?"

"You don't need to worry about me resenting my child," Sioned
answered.  "I wish you could understand what it means to me to be
a mother. It's like virgins and sex.  Virgins can never imagine
what sex is like until they do it."

"Speaking of sex, is it time yet for us to stop? I know your
doctor says it's OK as long as I'm not on top of you when you're
this far along.  But he did say I ought'a be careful about how
deep I stick it in. Do you still enjoy doing it with me?"

She reached her hand around her protruding belly, between her
legs, and found the end of my cock.  She pushed back the foreskin
to expose the head and rubbed it on the frenulum, just under the
head.  I could feel an immediate response as it began to swell
and lengthen.

"Silly," she answered, "of course I still enjoy it.  I can't
think of a time when I haven't.  You're a wonderful lover. All I
could want.  We've been married eight years and I think it's as
good now as it was the first time."

We were quiet then resting in the dark but not ready yet to go to
sleep.  She continued to play with my cock down between her legs
until it was fully erect. Finally she reached down, moved her
hips somehow, and tucked the head of my penis into her.  She was
already wet and receptive.

"Would you just put it in and then hold still?" she asked.  "I
just want to feel you inside me for a while.  I'll tell you when
I'm ready for you to fuck me. Don't worry if I don't get off. 
Lying this way, I don't think you can get it in deep enough to
hurt me. It can't hurt the baby."

<><><>

We were both quiet for a while and I was thinking about how we'd
met and joined together years ago.

"Do you remember how we met and then got married? I think about
it a lot and how lucky I was to find you. I wonder sometimes what
my life would've been like if I'd been stupid enough to lose you
years ago"

"Yes," she whispered, "I remember it well.  And that's a line
from Hermione Gingold, not Maurice Chevalier."

"Tell me a story?" I asked. "Tell me what you remember about it."

"Well, I certainly remember some of the things you did; I suppose
you'd call them horseplay."

"Like what?" I asked, "I think you enjoyed kidding around as much
as I did."

"Like the time we were coming down in the elevator with a bunch
of our co-workers and you were standing in front of me, looking
down my dress. You started humming that ad that says something
about umm, umm, good."

"That's not as bad as what you did once when we went out to
dinner with some of those same people."

"I guess I've forgotten that," she responded.  "What was it I
did?"

"We were sitting side by side and just about the time we were
finished, you put your hand on my leg.  I guess that was the
first time you touched me like that. But then you slowly moved
your hand up until you touched my dick.  You knew what the
reaction would be when you gave it a few squeezes.  I got an
erection and when the others left, I had to beg you to stay a
little longer, pretending I wanted to talk to you.  What I wanted
was for my hard-on to disappear so I could get up and walk out."

"Oh, yes," she said.  And even though I couldn't see her face I
knew she hadn't forgotten and was just teasing me.

"Now, come on," I said, "Tell me what you really felt and thought
when we first met and got to know each other."

"I couldn't take my eyes off you, the first time I saw you.  It
might've been woman's intuition but I had a feeling then that
we'd be together the rest of our lives. Are you sure you want to
hear this from my perspective?"

I poked her gently, without saying a word, and she began her
story.

<><><>

(SIONED)

We both worked for a company in positions that required us to go
out of town occasionally. In early March, there were five of us
on an assignment, two women and three men. One of the men was
married and had also brought his new wife along, so there were
three women in total.  One of the guys was single, good-looking,
and very intelligent but, I suspected, probably gay.  The third
man was the one I married later that year.

We were at work together when he asked me, "Sioned, would you go
out to dinner with me tonight?"

"Just the two of us?" I questioned. "I sort of expected to go
with the group again."

"I mean just the two of us. Someone told me about a Cuban
restaurant that's very good. I'd like to go with you, just you,
this time."

I looked him directly in the eyes; I had noticed before that he
had beautiful hazel eyes, appearing sometimes brown, sometimes
green - and held his gaze for a moment.

"I should warn you I'm not interested in a casual relationship."

"That's an interesting answer - but evasive," he said. "Would you
care to expand on that?"

"I just mean I'm not interested in starting down a path that's
going nowhere. Too many of you guys seem to be looking for a
bed-warmer. I've no desire to start something with a guy who's
looking for just fun and games - someone who wants to avoid the
possibility of any serious relationship."

"Sioned," he said, earnestly, "I'm twenty five years old. I've
fucked around more than a little. Even thought sometimes I was in
love. Every time I knew there was little chance of any permanent
commitment. I've been thinking about what I really want. I'm
looking for a different relationship this time. I guess I'd like
to find one that might grow into real love, a lasting commitment,
a family. All the things I've never had with a woman before."

This time he looked into my eyes, solemnly, and continued. "You
know I've been thinking about you for some time. You know I'm
attracted to you. I've made a fool of myself more than once
around you. The other guys have started kidding me about it. I
know you're aware of that, aren't you?"

I smiled at him, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him.
"Why don't you ask Janet?  You know you're a very handsome man
and she certainly knows it. She was sitting behind you yesterday
when you dropped that stack of papers, and her eyes never left
your rear end. She even commented last night about what a cute
little butt you had."

With his fair skin and blond complexion, he couldn't hide the
blush that spread over his cheeks.

"Janet's a friend. She'll never be more than that. Now quit
teasing me. I want to tell you something, as honest as I've ever
been. Don't take it lightly. I didn't ask you because I'm looking
for a quick fuck. For the first time in my life, I've met a woman
I think I'd like to have grandchildren with. That's the sort of
relationship I'm looking for. Now, once more, would you like to
take a chance and have dinner with me?"

"Yes," I answered, "I'd love to have dinner with you."

<><><>

In late April, we were assigned to work in a Gulf Coast town,
just the two of us this time. The job was an emergency situation
that had to be completed in just a few days. We both put in
twelve-hour days on Wednesday and Thursday and finally completed
our work Friday afternoon.

We had booked separate rooms in a hotel near the beach, hoping to
spend some time relaxing in the sun on Saturday, before we
returned home on Sunday. We had dinner at a restaurant
specializing in seafood and were almost too tired to enjoy the
excellent meal. When we went back to our rooms, I was tempted to
invite him in but I knew the time wasn't right. At my door, he
kissed me with a tenderness and hunger that left me wanting more.

The ringing of the telephone awakened me. When I reached for it,
I saw that the time was 1:30 in the morning.

"Yes," I said sleepily.

"I can't sleep," he said.

"Kieran, did you call just to tell me that?" I asked.

"I've been awake thinking about us," he said. "I want to talk to
you. Would you go for a walk on the beach with me?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to wear shorts and a shirt, with sneakers. You'd
better wear something to protect your feet too. I'll be outside
your door in five minutes."

When I opened my door, he was waiting. When we started toward his
car, I asked where we were going.

"We're going down to the State Park area, where there're no
houses, where there'll be no one around at this time of night.
Trust me, please."

We parked near the entrance gate to the park and walked over the
dunes to the beach. At the water's edge, he pulled his shoes off
and tied the laces together. I did the same, smiling that he had
somewhere learned to do the same thing I had, to make it easier
to carry sneakers when walking on the beach.

He reached for my hand and we began walking along the beach, away
from the lights of the developed area, into the darkness. The
moon was nowhere to be seen and the faint starlight was just
barely enough to see where we were going.

"I've been thinking about our relationship," he began. "We've
been going out together now for almost two months.  Being with
you, just talking to you, makes me happier than I would've
believed possible.  But now I want you to understand what I feel
and what I want with you."

"You've left me wondering more than once," I said. "I've felt it
when you pushed yourself away from me. I mean that in more ways
than one. I know you want me but you seem to reach a point where
you have to stop, to get yourself back in control. I wish you
would explain."

"Yes, I want you. More than I've ever wanted any woman. But I
don't want a casual relationship, one that's superficial - over
in a few months."

"I told you when we first started I didn't want that either," I
responded.

We walked quietly, hand in hand, in the darkness. The surf was
almost non-existent, a soft murmur rhythmically creeping up on
the beach. The night was warm and humid, smelling of salt and
unknown sea creatures.

"Let me explain what I do want. I want you to think about it.
Someday, if you decide you want me in the same way, let me know."

"Go on."

"First of all, I want a relationship that lasts for the rest of
my life. If I make love to you, I want you to agree that we'll be
totally committed to each other as long as we both shall live."

"That sounds like marriage," I said.

"Yes, it does. Marriage in the old-fashioned sense, a marriage in
which two people are joined into one. But I want more than that.
I want to surrender myself to you in total honesty. I want you to
do the same. I want you to see me exactly as I am. I want you to
understand me as a sexual being. I want you to let me know you in
the same way. I don't want a woman who always expects me to be
the sexual aggressor. I don't want a woman who's ashamed of her
sexuality. I want a totally-equal sexual partner. A woman who
opens her body to me. A woman who reveals her innermost thoughts
and desires with complete trust. You know I'm not very religious
but there is a passage in the Bible that I do believe: `For this
reason, a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to
his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.'"

"Is that why you've pulled away from me more than once, when you
know you probably could've made love to me?"

"Yes, it's the commitment I want this time. I want you to give it
a great deal of thought. I'm going to reveal to you much more of
who I am and the kind of life I want to lead. At some point, I
want you to make the decision whether you can join with me in
partnership. Then I want to make love with you. I want it to be a
spiritual as well as a physical union. I'll wait until a marriage
ceremony if that's what you want. But the ceremony will be for
others. The first time we make love, I'll accept our union as
permanent, until death do us part."

He stopped for a moment and pulled his shirt over his head. He
turned toward me, waiting. I guessed his intent, a test to see if
I trusted him. I pulled my shirt over my head too. I had worn
nothing underneath.

We walked on again, holding hands, shoes and shirt in the other
hand. The soft breeze was like a gentle caress on my breasts. I
could feel my nipples harden.

"Trust me, Sioned," he said. "This isn't the night for us to make
love. This is a night for us to be totally open with each other,
to strip away our clothes and our fears. I want to place my life
in your hands. I want you to do the same."

"It's not easy to rid myself of uncertainty," I said. "What
you're asking for is something that'll challenge both of us.  I
don't want either of us to fail."

He stopped again, facing me only a foot or so away. He dropped
his shoes and shirt on the sand. I did the same.

"We won't," he said. "Believe in us. We won't fail."

He took both of my hands in his and pulled me against him, simply
holding me with his arms curled around me. He was standing closer
to the water than I, on a sharply-sloping section of beach, and
my face was level with his. He made no attempt to kiss me. We
stood like that for a few minutes, his cheek against mine, my
bare breasts against his chest. I could feel the slow rise and
fall of his breathing and the beating of his heart.

When he pulled away, he reached down to his shorts.

"May I remove these?" he asked. "I want to wade out in the water
with you."

"Yes," I answered, and reached down to my own shorts.

We both pulled our shorts down at the same time and then stood
looking at each other. I could barely see his penis, still
hanging downward, but standing slightly away from his body.

Again, he took my hand and we walked out in the water. It was
still cool, not yet warmed by the summer's heat. We walked
slowly, careful where we placed our feet, until we were in water
chest deep.

"Just think," he said, "millions upon millions of years ago, a
spark of life was somehow created in this chemical soup. And that
spark developed the ability to reproduce itself. Can you imagine
the trillions of creatures that have sung to each other with the
need to continue that life?  Now, we're here where it all began.
And I still feel the same life force in me, singing to you, to
join together and continue that life. I've tried to understand it
since I was a kid. I don't think I'll ever succeed."

"I don't believe we'll ever fully understand it. We should simply
accept it - be glad we're part of it."

I moved against him again, my arms around his waist. When his
arms were around me, I dropped my hands down to his buttock and
pulled him against me. I felt his penis, soft against my stomach.
When he lowered his face to mine, I opened my lips to his. We
stood rocking gently in the moving water, our mouths open to each
other, our tongues exploring. His hands slid lower, down to my
bottom, pulling me with even more strength against him. I could
feel his penis hardening against me. He moved backward for a
second, letting it lift upward. When he pressed against me again,
I felt it swell and lengthen, hot and hard against my stomach
even in the cool water.

Time stood still while we held each other. He was right when he
spoke of our bodies singing to each other. I wanted it never to
end. But finally he stepped away from me.

Hand in hand we waded back to the beach. He shook the sand from
his shirt.

"Would you let me dry you off?" he asked.

I stood still, lost in heart-pounding desire while he wiped the
salt water from my body. When I returned the favor, I found that
his penis was still erect. I could just see the dark head at the
end of the white shaft.

"What will we do with that?" I teased.

"I'm going to give you an honest answer," he said. "I'll take
care of it later."

"Will your hand bring it as much satisfaction as mine?" I asked
and reached down to hold it. In the semi-darkness, I had been
unable to judge its size. Now, hot and hard in my hands, I was
amazed at its length and girth. I felt a hungry ache inside me, a
need to feel it in me.

Gently he pulled my hands away.

"No, it won't. But you must realize I mean what I said. You know
I want to make love to you, here and now. But I'm not going to do
it. I want you to know me honestly. I'll admit I'm probably going
to masturbate when I get back to my room. I hope you do too, and
that you'll admit it to me tomorrow. I've told you I want total
honesty. But most of all, I want a total commitment to each
other. I may regret it for the rest of my life but unless you can
join me like that, we may never have sex with each other."

He spread his shorts and shirt out on the sand and then placed
mine beside his. He sat down on his and held out his hand to me.
I sat down beside him.

"You've just willingly taken off all your clothes with me and
I've done the same.  How do you feel sitting here nude with me?"

"I've got no problem with nudity," I answered. "I've been to
topless beaches in Europe. It was a real pleasure to be that way.
 I just wish I could have gone to a nude beach."

"Would you go with me to a cabin my brother and sister and I own,
where there's a group of nudists?  It's in the woods on private
property and we've never had any problems."

"I'm not sure," I said. "I don't want to get involved in anything
like swinging or group sex."

"It's nothing like that," he said.  "In fact, it's quite the
opposite.  All of the adults there are married and there's a
bunch of children.  I'm the only adult who's not married."

"If we make the commitment we both want, I'd have no problem
going with you."

He stood up and again offered me his hand to pull me up. He
handed me my clothes. I stepped into my shorts, watching as he
did the same. He bent forward to zip them up, his penis still
swollen and heavy. We both pulled our shirts over our heads. I
heard him take two or three deep breaths. Then he took my hand
again and we started back.

We walked slowly along the beach back to the car, still talking
about the sort of relationship we both wanted.

In the car, driving back to the motel, I asked, "What do you mean
when you say making love?  You said earlier that you wanted the
first time we made love to be a permanent commitment."

"I meant the first time you open you body to me, when my penis is
in your vagina. I'm not ashamed to say when my cock is in your
cunt. I'm not ashamed to use different names for our body parts.
I mean the first time I have an orgasm inside you. Why do you
ask?"

"What we did earlier tonight was making love. It didn't involve
penetration or orgasm but we both know we were showing our love
for each other."

"I suppose you're right," he said, "but it was also a process of
learning about each other. I have no shame or guilt about my body
and about being a sexual human being. I learned tonight that you
feel the same, when you took off your shirt and shorts."

"You also asked me to trust you, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then I want to reach that agreement with you, that it will be a
permanent commitment the first time I let you put your cock in
me. But I'm also going to place on you the burden of holding
back, of waiting until I tell you I want you completely. I don't
want you seducing me. I'll tell you clearly that I want you.
There's no question of that. I'm just not sure I'm ready. I want
to know you better before that final step."

"I agree."

Just as we drove up to the hotel, I leaned toward him and said,
"There are other things we can do, to help us learn about each
other, even without the best part of love."

In the hotel, I unlocked the door to my room. As I turned back to
him, he started to take me in his arms. I assumed he wanted to
kiss me goodnight. I had never before invited him into my room.

This time, I took his hand and led him into my room. The bed was
rumpled, my nightgown still thrown across the foot. I pushed him
toward a chair.

"I'm going to take a shower. Alone," I said. "Salt and sand
aren't very comfortable in bed."

When I came out a few minutes later, wearing a white cotton robe,
he was still sitting in the chair.

"It's your turn," I said.

"I don't have a robe to put on when I come out," he said, smiling
at me.

"Wrap a towel around yourself, if you wish."

I was brushing my hair when he came back a few minutes later, a
towel wrapped around his waist. The bulge underneath the towel
drew my eyes. When I looked at his face, I noticed that his hair
was damp and tousled.

"Sit here on the foot of the bed," I said. "Let me brush your
hair before it dries."

He did as I said, sitting quietly, legs together. I had to try
more than once before I was able to make his hair look close to
the way he wore it each day. I stood in front of him, straddling
his legs, my bathrobe gaping open. I knew he could see that I had
on nothing underneath.

When I quit, he reached for my hand, for the hairbrush.

"Would you let me brush your hair?" he asked.

I might have been mistaken but I would have sworn that his hand
was trembling against mine. I sat down in a chair and he stood
behind me.

"This red hair is one of the things I love about you," he said,
gently brushing my hair.  "Thanks for showing me that you're a
real redhead."

He brushed quietly for a minute. "Your breasts are even more
beautiful than I imagined they would be.  I don't know if I'm
different from other men but I especially like to feel a woman's
breasts and to make love to them with my mouth.  I know my mother
breast-fed me but this is not some Freudian complex.  I just like
to make love to a woman with my mouth."

"I don't think that's unusual, is it?" I asked.

"Perhaps not.  I don't know how other men feel about women in
that respect. But I'm not just talking about your breasts.  I
want to taste you all over.  How would you feel if I held your
foot and sucked on your big toe?"

"I've never had that experience but I don't think I'd stop you."

"And if I kissed you in the hollow just above your collar bone?"

"That's permitted," I laughed.

"On your leg, behind your knee?"

"Fine with me."

"But if I laid you back on the bed, put a pillow under your hips,
spread your legs apart, and kissed you there, what would you
say?"

"I'd probably be speechless, but I certainly wouldn't stop you. 
In fact, you might find me holding you by the hair to keep you
there."

"I'm serious about this, not joking," he said.  "I have something
like a hunger to make love to a woman with my mouth, as well as
my hands and my cock.  One of my fantasies about you is burying
my face between your legs and using my tongue to bring you to one
orgasm after another.  And I want to do it with the lights on.  I
don't want a woman who thinks she's `not pretty' down there or
who thinks that oral sex is dirty or unnatural.  When you're
aroused and getting all juicy in your cunt, I won't mind getting
it in my mouth. It'll just make my cock that much harder."

"If you're trying to find out how I feel about oral sex, you can
stop worrying.  I've had a little experience with it. I love it.
I like to receive it;" and I paused before continuing, "I like to
give it."

He continued slowly brushing my hair, almost dry now.  "If I
asked you to sit in a chair directly in front of me and
masturbate yourself to an orgasm?"

"I've never done that with a man before."

"Think of it as a way of showing me how you like to be touched,
of teaching me how to bring you to an orgasm if you don't have
one before I do when we're fucking."

"Would you sit in a chair in front of me and masturbate while I
watched?" I asked.

"Sure," he responded, "that's the sort of thing I want us to be
honest about.  Even if we get married, I'll probably still
masturbate, but I hope just not as much.  I don't want you to be
upset about it, to think that I'm unhappy with you if I do it on
occasion. I don't want to feel guilty if you walk in on me doing
it.  I hope you'll even do it for me sometimes.  To me, that's
just one more great variation on the sexual theme."

"How would you feel if we made love some night and you came
before I did and I used my hand to bring myself off?" I asked.
"You might be tired and sleepy.  That's the way it works, you
know.  Sometimes I can come with just plain fucking, perhaps even
more than once.  Other times, I might not even care if I have an
orgasm.  Women are like that: sometimes we can be perfectly
content with having sex without having an orgasm.  But I know
there'd be times I couldn't just turn over and go to sleep
without one.  Would you feel inadequate as a man or be bothered
in some way if I used my fingers to finish the job?"

"That's the way I would want it to be with us," he responded. "I
don't want to have to jump up and wash my cock before going to
sleep because it's covered with your juices and mine.  I would
love to snuggle up against you, even though it's messy, and then
we can use my hand or yours to bring you off.  And after we're
both done, I'd love to curl up with you, with your bare butt
against me, spoon fashion, with one of my arms curling around
you, holding one of your breasts, while we both go to sleep."

"I'll agree to that, but only if you'll let me curl up to your
butt as well, with my arm curled around you, holding your cock,"
I answered.

"I don't know whether married life can be like that or not.  Is
it just a fantasy of mine?" he asked.

"No, I think married life can be whatever we want to make it, if
we agree on what we do."

"I'm not the kind of man who wants to get into the kinky aspects
very much," he continued.  "I can fantasize about tying you up,
with your legs spread, and using my mouth on your cunt until
you've had more orgasms than you can count.  But only if you
agree to let me do it.  I don't get any thrills out of bondage
and discipline, or sado-masochism, or rubber outfits and stuff
like that. I'm not ever going to give you a vibrator for a
present."

"Then we certainly feel the same about that," I answered.  "But
how would you feel about talking about our sexual fantasies with
each other, maybe even acting them out?"

"I'd love that," he answered.  "I have lots of fantasies. It
might take me years to tell you about'em and then carry them out.
Do you have any you'd like to play out? Start with something
simple we can do tonight."

"Well, I've always wondered what it would be like to be a man, to
have a penis and testicles, especially a penis that I could wrap
my hand around and see how it feels to masturbate," I responded.

"Say dick and balls."

"OK, dick and balls then."

"I can't change you into a man," he continued, "and I sure as
hell don't want to."

"No, but you could let me do it with your dick.  How about it?
You lie back on the bed and let me jerk you off."

"Haven't you done that with a guy before?" he asked.

"Well, yes, but not with the lights on. I've had boy friends in
high school and college.  I'm not a virgin, you know. But I've
only had three or four lovers. I learned with each of them but
I'm not much of an expert on men."

He handed me the hairbrush and I felt my hair to see if it was
dry enough. My hair was but I could feel the moistness between my
legs.  I had never dreamed that having a man brush my hair could
be such an erotic turn on.

"If you want to do it, I'd be glad to be your teacher tonight."

"You said you wanted us to be honest with each other.  Would you
believe my vagina is almost dripping just from having you brush
my hair?"

"So what?" he responded. "My cock would be standing almost
straight up if it wasn't for this chair back it's pressed
against."

I caught his hand and pulled him around until he was standing
directly in front of me. I could hardly believe the bulge behind
the towel wrapped around him. I pulled the towel away and threw
it on the bed. I watched as his cock expanded and lifted itself
until it was pointing straight at me and then lifted further
until it was standing up at a 45-degree angle to his body.  When
I first saw it, his foreskin was covering the head almost
completely, with only a small circle of skin at the tip showing
the glans. As it lifted and expanded, the foreskin drew back
until only the ridge of the glans was still covered.

"At least he's a gentleman," I said. "He knows enough to stand up
and take his hat off in the presence of a lady."

"Who are you talking about?" he asked.

"Your penis, your cock, dick, peter, John Thomas, whatever it is
you call it. Don't you have a name for it?"

"I've never felt the need to name it.  It goes with me wherever I
go and comes when I want it to.  Why should I name it?"

"Because I can't just refer to it as Peter if we're out in a
crowd of people.  We'll have to come up with a good name,
something like Jerry. Then, when I want to, I can ask you whether
Jerry would like to workout with us tonight."

"OK, but I don't think Jerry is a good choice. I think I'd like
to name him...what? How about Alphonsus?"

"Alphonsus?"

"Yep, Alphonsus. My Irish great grandfather's name. It means
noble and ready."

"OK, Alphonsus, it is. Now would you turn around?" I asked.

"Why, what do you want me to do that for?"

"So I can do a butt evaluation. Remember I told you Janet liked
your tight little butt. I just wanted to see if your tush, your
buns, your ass, or whatever you want to call it, is as sexy as
Janet said.

He turned around so that his back was to me and I gave his butt a
good inspection. It was remarkably smooth and tight and muscular.
Janet would have been pleased with it. While he was turned
around, I stood up, shrugged off my bathrobe, and then turned him
around. For the second time, we were totally nude in each other's
presence, but this time we were in a well-lit hotel room, not on
a dark beach.

We both stood silently, only a few feet separating us, looking at
each other.  I saw a very handsome young man, with blond hair on
his head but very little on other parts of his body.  His pubic
hair was the same color as that on his head; the hair on his arms
and legs was so light as to be almost invisible. He still had the
slimness of a young man, a well-muscled chest, flat stomach,
strong legs, and, most evident of all, an erect cock waiting to
be dealt with.

I can't say what he saw but I knew my hair down below was just as
red as that on my head.  My skin was even fairer than his since I
couldn't tolerate much sun and I never got a tan. My breasts were
not large at all but I was pleased that they were still without
any droop and that I could on occasion go without a brassiere. 
The areolas on my breasts were a light red color and the nipples,
standing out now in arousal, were a darker red.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked.

"You're even more beautiful than I've dreamed. Believe me,
there've been dreams of you; you wake me up with a wet spot on
the bed."

"You must like to sleep in the nude."

"Yes, I've slept like that for years, especially in warm weather.
 When it's cold, I'll pull out some flannel pajamas."

"I do the same thing, except that I have some big flannel
nightgowns.

"I don't think your eyes have left my breasts since we were face
to face.  What are you thinking", I asked.

"You may not believe it but I was comparing the color of your
areolas and your nipples with the color of your hair - up top and
down below. I don't think I've ever seen a woman so beautifully
color-coordinated."

"Well, you can thank my parents for the genes that gave me red
hair and fair skin.  But we both need to catch up on sleep   I'm
tired after three days of hard work and very little sleep so far
tonight."

"I don't think I'm going to sleep much with this in the bed with
me," he said as he put his hand on his penis.

"Then let me have my fantasy and I'll take care of it. When I'm
finished, we'll go to bed together.  And if it pokes its head up
again tonight, I'll chase you back to your own room."

"No, that's not fair," he answered. "I always have erections
while I'm sleeping.  I don't know how many because I can't
count'em when I'm asleep.  And I very often wake up in the
morning with a hard on.  Promise you won't chase me out unless I
try to do something more than you jacking me off."

"I won't chase you out if you're good.  Now, I want you to
stretch out on the bed with a pillow under your head and close
yours eyes.  I'm going to sit on your stomach, facing your feet,
and pretend that I'm the one with the aching hard on."

He crawled up on the bed and then said, "I think you might want
to have a damp towel nearby. I'm going to make a mess. And if you
have any baby oil, use that. I usually do."

I grabbed the damp towel he had dropped and rummaged in my
suitcase for a bottle of oil. When I found it, I held it up for
him to see.  It wasn't baby oil; it was oil that I used on my
elbows and feet and sometimes other areas.

"Will this do?" I asked. "I like to use it on my skin when I've
been out in the sun or wind too much."

"Sure," he answered, "If it doesn't hurt your skin, then I don't
think it can hurt me."

At first I lay down on the bed, with my head beside his middle. I
took his cock in my hand and held it straight up, looking at it.
I gently bent it from side to side and from front to back.  I
moved down to his testicles, cupping my hand under his scrotum
and gently lifting them.

"I'm no connoisseur of cocks," I said, "but I think this one
rates as prime.  I'm glad you're not circumcised. The cut ones
I've seen looked mutilated. If we have boy children, I want them
to be like you.  And I'm no expert on jacking off guys.  I've
done it during my school years for a few poor guys to put them
out of their misery.  But most men want more than that."

"You don't have to be an expert. As long as they get off, most
cocks are happy, even if a rank amateur does it."

"Yes, but I want to do it the way you want it done. I'm not used
to dealing with an uncircumcised one. Tell me what to do."

"Sure. Just wrap your hand around it, about midway between the
head and the base."

"Like this?" I asked, as I tried to encircle it with my hand.

"Yes.  Now move your hand slowly up as far as you can."

"But when I pull up, the foreskin slides back over the head and I
don't touch it with my hand."

"If your hand is dry, it's best not to rub it on the glans. It's
almost as sensitive as your clitoris.  How would you like it if I
tried to rub your clit with a dry finger?"

"I'd probably chase you off," I answered.

"Do you think it'd feel better for me to use a wet tongue?"

"That's your fantasy. You wait your turn."

"Now move your hand down as far as you can go."

"It pulls down on top but it's attached on the bottom, sort of
under the head.  Is it supposed to work that way?"

"Yes, now stick your finger in your mouth and then rub it around
the area just between the head and the regular skin on the
shaft."

When I did, his cock jumped reflexively in my hand.

"That's the underside of my foreskin. It's very sensitive. When
you pull down on the skin of the shaft until that area's tightly
stretched, it's even more sensitive."

"And what about the place underneath, where the foreskin is still
attached to the head?"

"Do the same thing there.  Wet your finger, pull down until the
skin on my cock is stretched tight, and then rub it."

I did as he asked and again, his cock seemed to move on its own
accord.

`Now, combine some of what I've told you. If you pull down on the
skin to cause tension on the inner foreskin and frenulum, then
rub the last couple of inches with your hand or with your mouth,
how long do you think I'm going to last until I squirt all over
you?"

"I don't know," I replied, "but can I try it?"

"Sure, but put some of the oil on your hand and on my cock.  I
want to warn you again that you'd better be careful where you
point it.  I'm going to make a big mess on something."

I moved so that I was sitting astride him, with my vulva just
about over his navel, facing toward his feet. I knew he could
feel how hot and wet I was.  I held his cock with my right hand
and squirted the oil generously over my hand and his cock with my
left hand. I smeared it all over his cock and balls.

At first, I just moved my hand up and down, holding the skin on
the shaft of his cock. As my hand movements became faster, I
could feel his stomach muscles underneath me becoming tense. Then
I decided to see how long he would last if I used the other
technique he had shown me.  I used my left hand to pull down on
the skin on his cock, and my right hand to slide up and down.
Just as he had told me, the foreskin stayed retracted and my
oil-slick hand was moving up and down on the head of his cock.

After a minute or so of this, I could feel his body become even
tenser. I could see his leg muscles become harder and I felt
myself lifted up a little as his buttocks tensed. His cock seemed
to grow even larger and redder.  His testicles had been hanging
down between his legs a little, but now they retracted around the
base of his cock.  I could also hear him breathing heavily.

With a suddenness that surprised me, he erupted. The first white
string of semen flew out of him and landed between my breasts. 
The second spun out and hit a little lower. The spurts continued,
each a fraction of a second after the previous one, until I was
dripping with his semen from my breasts down to my pubic hair.
Some of the last ones landed on his stomach. The final ones
merely oozed out and I used my hand to milk them out until they
dropped.

Watching his performance, I realized how hot and wet my cunt was.
I knew at that moment that I wanted to have his cock doing that
inside me for the rest of my life.

I turned around, still on top of him.

"You were right when you said you'd make a mess," I said.

"If you'll hand me that damp towel, I'll wipe it off you," he
replied.

Instead, I reached between my breasts and picked up a little of
his semen on my finger.  I stuck the finger in my mouth and
cleaned it off, concluding that it didn't really taste that bad.
But I wasn't sure that I wanted so much of it in my mouth all at
once.

"How does it taste?" he asked.

I reached down and picked up a little more and extended my finger
to his mouth.  He looked me directly in the eyes and opened his
mouth. My finger came out clean.

"Is this a test to see what I'll really do with my mouth, whether
it involves my body fluids or yours, or ours in combination?" he
asked.

"No, not really," I replied. "I just can't imagine most men want
their mouth on a woman's cunt when it's full of their own semen."

"It's called a cream pie, in the pornographic stories," he said.
"And I'm telling you the truth. I love to go down on a woman,
either before or after we fuck. And besides, I already know what
my come tastes like.  I licked it off a girl's breasts once."

"You're going to have to tell me about that some day."

On impulse, I lay down on top of him and rubbed my body against
his, smearing his come over both of us.

"Do you want to stay like this until we're glued together or
should we wipe it off," I asked.

He put his arms around me and held me. After a few minutes, I
reached for the towel.

<><><>

When I finally finished telling the story of our beginning, my
husband's cock was still inside me. Only half-hard now.

"Kieran, aren't you going to finish what you've started?" I
asked.

"No, honey," he answered. "I don't really wanna get off tonight,
when you don't. I'm content to be close to you. When we go to
sleep, my cock'll slip out. But just being like this with you -
it doesn't get any better."

"That first night we spent together - there wasn't much
contentment for me. After all this time, I'm going to admit I
didn't sleep anymore that night. I just pretended to.  When I
jerked you off and we spooned up against each other in that bed,
I could feel your cock pressed up against me. It might not have
been hard but it was still hot.  I wanted to push you over on
your back, get you hard again, and crawl on top of you. I wanted
you inside me more than I'd ever wanted anything."

My husband chuckled softly. "I always wondered how you could go
to sleep like that.  I didn't sleep anymore either. Every time I
felt another hard-on starting, I'd turn over.  You'd spoon up
against my butt and put your arm around me. If you'd felt down a
little lower, you'd have found a hard cock."

"So we were both pretending to sleep," I said. "Doesn't it seem
kind of silly now? That we didn't just go ahead and fuck each
other to sleep that first night?"

"I suppose," he responded. "But I wasn't sure you were ready. I
mean, for the sort of commitment we'd talked about. You know I'm
not good at picking up a woman's subtle signals. After the next
weekend, I knew you wanted me the same way I wanted you. When we
did finally did it, coupl'a weeks later, I knew it was right."

"So we were both scared of the commitment. Seems dumb now,
doesn't it? Anyway, the second time we slept together, two nights
in one weekend - that was a weekend of memories. And the next
weekend, when we finally fucked each other to exhaustion - that
made even better memories."

"Good night, Sioned," he said, "and good night to you, Kerry or
Kerri, which ever you are."

"And to you, Kieran," I said. "Do you care which it is?"

"No, it's our child. I'll love it no matter what."

TO BE CONTINUED:






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