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Subject: {ASSM} The Naked Truth [history: modern] (MF oral anal cons wl rom hist)
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Here's one for FranzKafka79's history challenge.




THE NAKED TRUTH
by Carlos Malenkov <cmalenkov@linuxwaves.com>
Word Count: 1338

Copyright (c) 2003 by Carlos Malenkov
ASSM granted posting and archiving rights
to this story, but all other rights remain reserved.



Howard Anderson had never seen his wife in her full naked glory. They
had been married two years and had grown quite fond of each other.

Many were the nights when Mrs. Anderson welcomed him into her embrace.
His body rejoiced as he held her and entered into her warmth. He delighted
in the feel of her lush curves beneath the flannel evening gown.

Still, he had thoughts. Dreadful, sinful thoughts.

    What does she look like? What does she *truly* look like underneath?
    Underneath those fetching clothes she wears? Underneath the gown?
    I've been inside her, touched her as intimately as a man can touch a
    woman, possessed her . . . but I've never in actual fact seen her in
    the altogether. What do her bare breasts look like? Her deliciously
    rounded behind? Her . . . ?

Howard considered himself an enlightened man, almost a Free Thinker
in many respects. He read all the journals that came by post from back
East. He enthusiastically supported free trade, industrialization, and
Progress. He was against imperialism and foreign adventures. He opposed
slavery, though he thought the more radical of the abolitionists went
a bit too far. He had even considered joining the Whigs. Things were
moving mighty fast in this modern year of 1840, and a person had to stay
on his toes to keep from being left behind.

He was a city boy, Howard was. Even so, he had found out about animals
and their mating habits early on. At school he had traded naughty stories
with his playmates. Once he had even purchased the services of a whore
with money saved from his wage as an assistant clerk at the millinery
shop on Main Street. It had been a sordid little affair -- over in a
couple of minutes -- just a matter of sticking his organ into . . . And
he had barely managed to catch a glimpse of her body. He still had only
the vaguest notion of what a woman's body looked like, aside from her
secret place.

It had to happen. Late one evening he was on his way to attend to a
call of nature. He pulled open the door of the outhouse . . . and there
she was. Sitting there was his *naked* wife. He just stood and gawked,
openmouthed.

"Howard!"

He turned and fled.



It was ten after two by the pendulum clock in the parlor. He hadn't
been up this late in years. Burning precious lamp oil, too. The words
in the book on his lap were blurring. Were those blots on the pages from
his tears?

There were soft footsteps behind him. He didn't turn around.

"Dear Howard. The bed is so cold . . . and I am so lonely. Please come."

He arose and let her lead him by the hand up the wooden stairs to the
bedchamber. The full moon was shining through the glass window that he had
installed at such great expense not long after they were married. Amanda
was standing beside the maple four-poster bed. She had let her gown
drop to the floor. Her naked limbs gleamed in the light of the moon.
She was stunning in her beauty.

Later, as they lay side by side under the comforter, she nuzzled his
face and kissed his nose. "My darling," she whispered, "I have wanted
to show myself to you since the day we were wed. I was afraid. You might
have thought me . . . indecent, even wanton."

He took her hand and and kissed it. "Wanton you may be, darling wife,
but you are mine, and mine only. And I am only now discovering just how
deeply I love you, Mrs. Anderson."

"And I you, Mr. Anderson. With all my heart and all my soul."



It was as if a dam had burst. In succeeding days, Amanda no longer felt
shy about demonstrating her affections, and she even began hesitantly
expressing carnal desires. Nightly they lay in each other's arms, flesh
against naked flesh. And they partook of that flesh when the hunger
overtook them, and it overtook them often.

There came the time when Mr. Morgan took early leave of work in order
to hasten home to slake his untimely desires. Mrs. Morgan received him
in unfeigned delight, and opened to him her arms, then her charms. In
full daylight they gazed upon one another, enraptured, entranced, in
full and brazen nakedness.

There came the time when Amanda shyly asked Howard to do unto her as the
beasts of the field do, that is to say, to embrace her from behind. "In
my rowdy youth, we boys would jokingly refer to it as 'doggy style,'
my darling," Howard answered. "It has been my unfulfilled desire to
accomplish such with the one I love if only once before I die."

"Come then unto me, dear Howard, and let us die together . . . entwined
and in rapture."

There came the time when Amanda was indisposed on account of her monthly
flow, and still they felt that certain hunger for each other. "I have
heard, my sweet husband, that there be other means of achieving
gratification. Women in my circle have confided in me . . . "

She took his member into her mouth, yet they both found that somewhat
pallid, and hardly conducive to pleasure. Thinking for a moment, she
smiled mysteriously, then requested that he fetch from their chest of
medicaments a certain emolument reputed to be efficacious for chafing of
the skin. "Annoint your rampant flesh with this, darling Howard mine, then
gently, most gently, attempt entry into my . . . my hind opening. Yes,
dearest one, that passage through which . . . I relieve a fullness of
the bowel." She blushed scarlet and hid her face against his chest.

This particular modality they initially found somewhat strange. Still,
even contending with a reluctance founded on concerns of uncleanliness
and ingrained prohibitions against the sin of Sodom, they came to greatly
appreciate the sensual enjoyments of the practice.



Then the children came. In twenty-two years there were nine live births,
for women were more fertile in those days and offspring were a necessary
adjunct to family life. Boys and girls underfoot did necessarily inhibit
the more daring displays of affection between the loving couple, but they
did kiss and touch at every opportunity. (This aroused considerable envy
from less fortunate married friends and acquaintances.) In the privacy
of the bedchamber they continued to demonstrate their desire for each
other in a variety of inventive ways. Their children matured into loving
and affectionate adults. Then external events intervened.

The two oldest boys left home to serve in Mr. Lincoln's army. They died
to make men free . . . and for the same cause did Howard shed his own
blood. His company had been holding the flank behind a rail fence near
Antietam Creek. The Reb cannonade had taken them by surprise. He had
awakened on a filthy cot in a hospital tent. The pain had been almost
more than he could bear. Later on they told him that the ragged skirmish
line of amateur soldiers had saved the Union that day.

Howard came limping home on a wooden leg. Amanda had taken him into her
arms and stained his dirty blue tunic with her tears. They conceived
their last child that night.

In later years Howard and Amanda, now gray-haired and wrinkled, would
sit side by side on the porch, rocking and watching the sun set. She
might occasionally reach over and take his hand and raise it to her
lips. He might occasionally reach over and and stroke her cheek. Or he
might mischievously reach over and down and stroke her hind cheeks. On
cold nights they would huddle together under the featherbed, and if
moved by passion -- or even by just fond remembrance of past times --
they would join their flesh. And the sparks still flew.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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