Message-ID: <48638asstr$1091095804@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <anon584c@nyx.net> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <200407290406.i6T462Cu005545@nyx.nyx.net> From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon) Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net x-archive-expire: 2005-01-01 X-No-Archive: Yes X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Wed, 28 Jul 2004 22:06:01 -0600 Subject: {ASSM} new "RTFM 3" {Uther} (MF msolo M1st) [3/4] Lines: 531 x-asstr-message-id-hack: 48638 Date: Thu, 29 Jul 2004 06:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2004/48638> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> 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, 2004, 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. 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. =--= RTFM by Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net Chapter 3: Marge was dating other men, and only one date a week was available for John. She was almost certainly shagging the other men. John had bouts of jealousy, which he concealed from Marge. He could pout or he could make each time memorable for both of them. As a science student, he'd been told about the dialogue between theory and experiment. Now he lived it. The books could tell him generalities, and he would find on Marge the experimental reality. The books would suggest variations, and she would refuse them, enjoy them, or find them awkward. He learned that one changed diaper turned her on as much as the same amount of time kissing. She felt alone and a 'we' dealing with the problem was worth celebrating. On the other hand, *he* sure enjoyed the kissing more. He would take her out, drive the sitter home, and return. One night, he stopped her on the way into the apartment. "Do you guys ever go on picnics?" he asked. "Not this year." "If I take care of the rest of it, can you take care of Katydid? Think about it. I'll take Mary home." It wasn't worth a drive. Mary lived a block over. He walked her to her house and watched from the sidewalk as her mother let her in. When he came back, Marge had considered. "Y'know, the picnic idea sounds like fun." "Does Sunday work? Or are you churchgoers?" "Sunday? This Sunday?" "That's what I meant. Is it a problem?" "No. Sounds great." "Eleven?" "Fine." That night, when she lay back on the couch, he brought a kitchen chair to sit beside her and stroked all of his favorite parts. She became quite excited and reached for him. He rolled the condom on, but wouldn't join her. "No, dear, you come to me." She was dubious, but willing. She sat on his legs for a moment while he played with her again. Then she raised herself and he slid forward in the chair. She lowered herself and inserted him. "Slowly, Marge, slowly." That was one thing the books had emphasized. She impaled herself slowly, holding on to his shoulder with one hand and adjusting his phallus with the other. He could suck her breasts in this position, and he did. She responded by moving against him. The instinctual muscle patterns produced quite different motions in this position. The sensations were different, as well. She seemed to grasp him at the base and rub the tip all over her insides. He reached down between them and found her clitoris. He stroked it in time with her motions, and sucked her nipples in time with both. She gasped and her motions became erratic. She clawed his shoulders. He felt her vagina clutch him, and that triggered his own thrusts. His position was even less mobile than hers, but he grasped her buttocks and pulled her to him as his legs strained to thrust. In a minute, he was pouring himself upward into her quivering warmth. She slumped against him. He had to keep hold of her and couldn't relax completely. Their breathing slowed. "That was nice," she said finally. "Me too, but it's always nice with you." She kissed him, not passionately. He reached down to hold the condom on as she lifted herself. He dressed, kissed her again, and left. - = - John overstocked for the picnic, but bought only cold food. His father scowled at him as he came down to breakfast in jeans and t-shirt while his parents were dressed for church. He and Marge ate. Then they cuddled while Katy played on the grass. John started unbuttoning Marge's blouse. "Out in the open like this?" "Who's here to see? Anyway, get out of your bra and put the blouse back on." She did, not rebuttoning the blouse, and he spent a pleasant hour playing with her soft breasts. Sometimes they kissed heatedly, and sometimes he lay in her lap and talked. In that position, she would bend over occasionally, and he would kiss her through the cloth. As the kisses grew passionate again, he stroked up her thighs beneath her skirt. She spread her legs, and he stroked her through her panties. "We can't out here." "If we can't, we won't. Maybe, we'll go back to your place when Katydid falls asleep. Let's do what we can out here." And he kissed her again. Then the toddler was visited by a honeybee. Neither party attacked the other, but Marge panicked. The baby responded as any sensible young mammal would to a mother's panic. She caught it and doubled it. The picnic was over and they headed home. John explained that the cooler and basket were his parents', but the food wasn't needed back there. Marge objected a little, but he took two trips up her stairs. While Marge was storing things, he offered to change Katydid. The baby had had too much excitement and not enough sleep, but he brought her dry into the living room and turned on the TV. The dancing pictures caught her attention, and she was asleep in ten minutes. He eased her down onto the couch. Marge came in and wanted to take her to her crib, but he shook his head. He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. The change of location put her off for a moment, but she cooperated in the kiss. Their tongues played tag while he squeezed her buttocks. He weighed one breast in his hand and then touched the nipple through the cloth. She held his face as she tried to get her tongue deeper into his mouth. He opened her blouse and kissed her nipples which were sticking straight out. They tasted of salt. She shrugged out of the blouse and then smoothed her hands over his back. She started pulling at his shirt. He broke away to pull off the t-shirt and when he looked, she was removing her skirt. He started on his own and when he was done, she was lying on the far side of the bed. She still had on her panties. Momentarily embarrassed by his nakedness, he turned away as he got the condom from his wallet and palmed it. He slipped it under the pillow as he got into bed. He started with a kiss again, and cupped and teased her nipple. One thing that he learned fast about bed was that he needed his left arm to hold himself up. He kissed her all over her face and then moved to her breasts. For a few minutes, he kissed the near one and teased and caressed the far one. Then he shifted and licked the far nipple. He stroked down her side three times. The third time, he went on from her hip across her mound. The panties were damp, and he hoped it wasn't just sweat. He cupped her there, feeling the softness of he folds through the cloth. She lifted her hips and he shifted to kneel at her side. He got one hand at each side of the elastic band. She lifted her hips and he pulled them down. As she shifted her legs to accommodate him, he got them off and put them on the foot of the bed on his side. His stiff erection bobbed at every move, making him terribly self conscious. She spread her knees and he clasped her again, his palm on her matted hair and his fingers touching her soft folds. He dropped down to lie beside her without removing his hand. She turned her head and they were looking each other in the eyes while he parted the outer lips and then the inner ones. Between these, it was flowing with her moisture. "Oh Marge." He stroked down there gently, unsure of what he was doing but watching her face. He found her clitoris. She gasped and he tried to move more lightly still. She reached for him. He evaded her and reached under the pillow. The packet was hard to find, then hard to open. He rolled it on, having rehearsed that part. Getting between her knees was less clumsy than the time before. She was lying there waiting for him to act. He got himself down and spread her lips again with his hand. He entered the valley, rolled so that he was balanced on both arms, found the entrance and pushed gently. He'd done something right, for he slid straight in. Fully within her, he shifted his weight so that he was on his elbows. He paused a moment to enjoy the sensation of being enclosed and then began to stroke in and out. He was moving his whole body and he brushed his chest against her nipples. They stiffened. He tried to move slowly, and feel the warm wall grip him through the rubber. Marge started moving under him, and it took him two strokes to figure out how to deal with this. She was moving a little faster than he had been, but he matched her pace. She stroked up his arms to his shoulders, then down his back to his butt. She wrapped her legs around him and rested her feet on his calves. She was pushing back at him as hard as he was stroking into her. The pressure was building in him and he knew he was close. "John?" "I'm right here." And then she groaned. She was pushing hard against him and her tunnel was rhythmically clasping around his erection. He pulled back, drove forward, and came in pulses. He collapsed upon her. "Can you move?" Marge asked. It could have been hours later, but the light from the window was no different. He rolled off her and out of her. The condom stayed inside. She reached down, pulled it out, and threw it in the wastebasket. "Sorry. Was I gone long?" She giggled. "That's one way to describe it. Not more than a minute." "You have beautiful breasts." His breath was just now returning to normal. "Beautiful face too. But I'd seen that years ago. C'mere." She moved over, kissed him and then turned her back. It surprised him for a second, partly because he was breathing hair. After he had pushed her hair out of his face, however, he found the spoon cuddle quite enjoyable. Indeed, he got another erection. He realized that he *didn't* have another condom. She snuggled deeper against it but made no other move. Ten minutes later they broke apart. The weather wasn't made for this, and they were both pouring sweat. She got up and covered him with the sheet. When she returned dressed, he took his clothes to the bathroom sponged himself off with a washcloth and dressed. She was changing the baby when he came out and the afternoon was obviously over. He kissed Katy goodbye, kissed Mommy goodbye, and left. - = - The next date, Marge seemed in a bad mood and suggested that they skip the movie. She took a paper cup of soda with her from the restaurant. John was excited as he drove her home, but she asked him to turn off. She guided him to an isolated spot, and he pulled her over to kiss. Shortly into the kiss, she unzipped his trousers. This forward behavior, and the openness of the surroundings excited him greatly. By the time her hand reached it, his erection was rock hard. "I'm having my period. Don't come back to the house after taking the sitter home." Then she bent over and took him in her mouth. There was no easy way to reach her breasts, and he sat with his left hand on her head and his right patting her back. At first, she held the shaft in her hand, and only licked and lipped the tip. Then she closed her lips behind the glans and sucked before rolling her tongue all around it. The tongue felt rougher than her smooth vagina, but softer than the hand he was more used to. When she began to move her mouth up and down along the shaft, he tongue was on one side rather than the bottom of his glans. Still, the sensations were exciting him, the idea was exciting him, there was no reason to try to hold back. The tensions built swiftly. "Marge. I'm about ..." Acknowledging sounds from his lap. She held the bottom third of his shaft in her fingers and bobbed faster on the rest. "I can't come in your mouth!" She lifted her head for a second. "Do." She licked the underside of the glans again. Then she settled back down. The idea repelled him. The idea excited him. The excitement and the sensations combined to send him toward the edge. He found himself pushing her head down as she worked. Then he felt his himself peaking. He rose an inch in the seat and pushed her head down. She sucked hard and pulled up still sucking. He spurted in her and she kept sucking. He spurted four more times, less after the second. She swung up, grabbed a Kleenex out of her purse and held it on him with her left hand. She opened the door on her side and spit out. She grabbed the Coke, sipped hard, spit again, then repeated that. He took the Kleenex from her and finished wiping himself off. She handed him another, and he wrapped it about his member and stuck it back in his shorts. "Sorry," she said, "I still have trouble swallowing it." She was now drinking the Coke. "I never asked you to." The reminder that she did this with others was much more of a turnoff than the activity of spitting. He considered his options, then got out of the car and adjusted his clothing. He drove her home. When he drove the babysitter home, he continued on to his own house. Somehow, he hadn't taken any opportunity to kiss Marge good night. - = - On the next date, April called in sick at the last minute. Marge called John while his parents were finishing their dessert. He first thought of strangling April -- which wouldn't solve the child-care problem, then of strangling Katydid -- which would. Finally he had an idea which was worth sharing. "You have to eat, anyway," he said. "Have you thought what?" "There are some cans here." "I'll stop by the pizza place. Get glasses and plates set up. 40 minutes. Katy can have what you allow her from ours, get whatever she needs special for her. I'll take care of the rest." He phoned in the order, and stopped by the grocery for pop, dessert, lettuce and dressing. On impulse, he bought a cheap plastic tablecloth. The pizza order was ready soon after he arrived, and he got to Marge's within his deadline. Katy, who had just had supper, turned out to adore pizza, though not to the point of swallowing much of it. She bathed in tomato sauce and cooed and babbled through the meal. She was no better for John's appetite than his nephew, Troy, was. She had a little ice cream and Momma took her to bed an hour behind her schedule and more behind John's. This time, he didn't offer to do the changing. While Marge got her kid somewhat clean, John cleaned up the kitchen and prepared the living room. He pulled the cushions off the sofa and draped them with his plastic table cloth. He found two bowls and filled one with lukewarm water, and the other with ice. He sniffed the washcloths in the bathroom and rinsed out the three which smelled least of sour milk. He found two clean glasses large enough for root beer floats, spooned the ice cream into them, and put them away in the refrigerator. He rescued the straws that he had picked up in the pizza parlor. He still had time to wait. Marge came back looking frazzled. "What's that in the living room?" she asked. "Take off your blouse and go lie down there." "Look, in this heat I don't need ..." "Please." She did. He poured the root beer to make the floats, inserted the straw, and took them in. "Turn over." She did, and he put her float in front of her face. As she began drinking it, he took one washcloth, dipped it in the lukewarm water, and began rubbing her back with it. She sighed and relaxed. He took her arms one at a time and wiped them with the cloth. When he unsnapped her bra, she cooperated. After wiping all the surfaces on that side, and after kneading her tired shoulders with the wet cloth, he sat back on his heels and sipped at his float. "That is the first time I've felt cool since leaving the store. Thanks." "Take the rest of your clothes off." She turned back over and removed the skirt and panties. At a gesture, she returned to lying on her stomach and he straddled her facing her feet. Again, he rinsed every surface, starting at her waist. He avoided the space between her buttocks, but he included the insides of her thighs as he proceeded down. After he cleaned her feet, he tossed that washcloth onto a loose corner of the plastic and returned to rubbing her shoulders for a minute. "All done. Turn over." She did. He wiped off her face with the second cloth and then kissed her. His shirt was getting wet and he removed it and the t-shirt. Then he wiped down her neck, arms and torso. He skipped her breasts. When he returned to them, he dipped the washcloth in the ice water. Her nipples stood up at attention, and she shivered. He squeezed the cloth over her mound and let the water run over her pubic hair and between her legs. She shivered again and reached for him. He dropped the cloth and kissed her, covering her cool torso with his sweaty chest. The kiss was a long one involving tongue play. Then he began stroking her with his hand. At first, he merely touched her side and hip, then he reached between them to cover and rub her breast. When he broke the kiss, he took one breath and then began kissing her all over her damp face. He proceeded down her neck and chest, then circled the near breast and kissed the valley between her breasts, pressing them together against his face. Only his left hand was free and he stroked the length of her body with it from her shoulder to her knee. After a minute he kissed up her far breast until he met the areola. He licked a circle just at the edge of the areola and then across it to touch the nipple. As he sucked the nipple, he began to stroke between her thighs. These tensed against his hand and then fell open. He continued sucking her breast and stroking her thighs, reversing as soon as his hand brushed her mound. Then he left her breast, dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, and shifted to the other breast. This time when his hand moved up, he cupped her entire mound. She spread her thighs more, and he caressed her outer lips with two fingers. Then he gently massaged the peak of he mound. Her breathing seemed shallower, and she began to push her groin up at his fingers. He spread her labia apart and his fingers were drenched. What had been a technical, if lustful, enterprise stiffened him with desire. He freed his mouth from her breast. "Oh, Marge!" He watched her frowning face as he stroked upward in the cleft. She grew more and more tense, then she gasped as he found her clitoris. He returned to the bottom of the cleft, and kept his fingers there as he rocked back on his heels. Then he repeated the stroke with his left hand as he tried to deal with his clothes with his right. He had his trousers and underpants down to his thighs when he began rubbing in a circle over her clitoral area. She was breathing harder and her frown had become a tense rictus. He managed to tear open the packet of the Trojans and fitted it to his penis. It wouldn't roll down. He tore his eyes from watching her and found that he had it on the wrong way. He reversed and rolled it on. He abandoned her for a minute to stand and pull his clothes the rest of the way off. She was reaching for him when he moved between her legs. He spread her labia once more with his fingers, stroked the length of the cleft once more, glided his finger over the clitoris once more. Then he was at the entry. He paused while she tugged at his arms. Then he eased in. The stroke was slow but sure, sliding along the fluttering length of her tunnel until his groin pressed against hers. The following strokes were more rapid, and she met them with heaves of her own. He was far along his own spiral of desire, but not too far to feel her contractions around him. He pressed into her, clasped her shoulders to him in a hug, and rolled to his left. He didn't miss a stroke as he felt over to the iced bowl. He grabbed the third cloth -- still wrapping two ice cubes -- from the bowl of ice water, and clasped it to the small of her back. He rolled her back over onto that chill and she gasped and missed a beat against him. He resumed his strokes, and she moaned and her internal sheath was clasping him again and again. The motion was taking him now. He thought only to clasp her breast with his, still ice cold, right hand. She was calling out into his face, clawing at his back, pulsing around his member. He drove into her again and again. He called out himself. He rammed home once more and spurted his very being into that welcoming, spasming, warmth. The next thought he had was to roll sideways again and remove the third cloth. She was absolutely limp and it was a difficult job. When it was done, he was out of her and his muscle control was back. He held himself light on her and lay his head below her breasts listening to her heart beat slow. After it did, she twisted a little, and he decided that she was uncomfortable. He pulled himself back to his feet, and she didn't object. He finished his float, visited the bathroom and disposed of his condom, resumed his pants, returned the pots and washcloths. She seemed awake but detached. "What are you thinking?" he finally asked. "I'm never going to be able to get up from here." "Sure you are." He went into the bedroom and folded the sheet over to one side. He returned to the living room and carefully knelt by Marge's side. Then he did a three-stage lift. She grabbed him around the neck as soon as he started, so they were fairly well balanced going into the bedroom. He actually tucked her in and kissed her forehead. He checked on Katy and straightened her covers. "I'll let myself out." And, after straightening up himself and the living room, he did. Concluded in Chapter 4 RTFM Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net 2004/07/29 Thanks to Neneh for editing this. For another story concerning the extension of sexual experience: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/brennan/foreplay.htm "Foreplay" The index to all my stories currently available: 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: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+