index


Message-ID: <61047asstr$1299244203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Bewildered - F" -- Uther -- MF wl
Lines: 265
Date: Fri, 04 Mar 2011 08:10:03 -0500
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


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, 2011, Uther Pendragon. All rights
reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and
keeping one electronic copy for your personal reading so long as
this notice is included. Reposting requires previous
permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail them to
me at nogardneprethu@gmail.com.

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.


Bewildered - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF wl

When she got out of the first-year lecture she attended so she would know
what the discussion section had heard, Carolyn Pierce had some free time.
She decided to see if her papers from last semester had been graded yet.
They were supposed to be, but professors are no more prompt than the rest of
us, and have many fewer consequences for their delays than students do.

"I was a little disappointed," Kindle said, as he handed her back her paper.
"You did a perfectly acceptable piece of work, but it seemed shallower than
your usual. Did the marriage preparations take too much of your time?" Well,
the grade was A-, which didn't look all that disappointing.

"Well, it was a busy period," she said.

"As I said, it was a perfectly acceptable piece of work. Your class
participation, however, shown in a way that this did not. Well, I shouldn't
be too harsh. That paper from many of your classmates would have pleased me
no end. You got an A in the course." Kindle never said what he gave you,
only what you earned. As far as she could tell, he thought that way, too.

"Why thank you, Professor Kindle." Walther was in the History department,
and his office was half-way across campus. She'd scamped his paper to put
more effort into Kindle's, and she wasn't taking the rest of Economic
History. So, she'd look contrite and tell him that she'd try harder.
Instead,

"Miss, Nolan. Come in. Here, I have your paper. The best that anyone in the
class turned in. I see that you're not going on. You really should; the
later 20th century shows much more development."

"Well, Professor Walther, I'm a teaching assistant this semester, and
something had to give. It was Economic History."

"I gave you an A for the course, as well. Probably what you expected.
Students, however, always want to know. Excellent paper. If you want to
continue publishing after you get your degree, consider economic history."
She took the paper, a piece of chaff she'd ground out in a hurry because the
man had assigned it so late, and went on her way.

When she got outside, the sky -- which had been threatening rain all day --
delivered on its threat. She got her umbrella unfolded and open, but not
before she was fairly wet.

On the bus going home, she read the paper again. It hadn't developed any
brilliance in the time it was out of her hands. On the last page
bibliography, Walther had marked the two memoire's she had quoted. "Original
sources," he had written, "very good." Well, she supposed that *Historical
Statistics of the United States* didn't quite qualify as an original source.
It was a collection of figures the government had published originally long
ago -- about a century ago, for the figures she had used. On the other hand,
those figures were solid, and each memoire only reported one woman's
experience. It may not have been typical; it may not even have been accurate
for her.

Kindle, on the other hand, had commented on her citation of freight charges.
"A steel mill represents an enormous, nearly permanent, investment. You need
the history of those freight charges, and since ca. 1960, the ocean-freight
charges influence the west coast."

To add to her feeling of bafflement, the wind caught her umbrella when she
got off the bus. It blew it inside-out. She used it for what little
protection it gave when pointed straight into the wind until she got to the
downstairs door of the apartment. She changed her clothes from the skin out,
got the umbrella back in shape, and began cooking. Still, she gave more of
her attention to Walther's weirdness than to the stove. Nothing burned, for
a wonder.

Even when Bill came home, as wet as she was, she was still wondering about
the grade and the comment.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked her at the start of the meal. She unloaded.


"Remember that bastard, Walther? When he assigned us a paper late in the
semester? I decided blow him off -- submitted a trifling paper that fit his
public criteria. The other papers were more important, and I figured I could
take the C."

"Yeah." He may have remembered. He might be encouraging her to talk until he
caught up.

"I got the paper back today."

"Is it going to cause you problems, hold back the degree?" He did remember.
Well, she'd really blown her stack back then.

"No. That's not it." She got him the paper and showed him.

"Well, that's wonderful. I'd been worried." And it was, sort of, wonderful.
The grade wouldn't have much effect, but an A not having much effect was
happier news than a C not having much effect. It was more puzzling than
pleasing, though.

"I got an A- on my paper for Kindle. He told me he knew I could analyze more
deeply than I had done. Still got an A in the course, though. Money and
Banking was a B in the course. I haven't got the paper back yet."

"That's wonderful. Is there something else you're not telling me --
something for which all this is merely compensation?" He was still worried.
Well, he could read her mood.

"Nope. That's my news."

"But you don't seem pleased."

"I'm pleased, but I'm more bewildered. It was a shallow paper on a shallow
idea. It was scantily sourced. I can't understand it."

"Well, the grades call for a celebration." That was Bill. He didn't really
lack curiosity, but curiosity didn't drive him. "I wouldn't recommend going
out in this weather, though."

"Trust Bill. We need to celebrate, but we can't go out. We really must
celebrate in here. I wonder what we could do to celebrate. Maybe hold the
celebration in bed?" Not that she objected to celebrating in bed, but
sometimes, she felt that his thinking always with the smaller head deserved
some teasing.

"I could go out for some ice cream or something." That was also Bill.
Celebration was eating out, and he was generous enough to go out so that she
didn't have to.

"I'm only teasing you. I -- in case you haven't noticed -- enjoy our
celebrations in bed, too. And, whatever your other faults, you make sure
that I do." And he did, too. Bill would be perfect if he used his mouth only
for kissing.

"I have some stuff to do, though," she told him. Her first discussion group
as a teaching assistant was the next day.

"I need to do the dishes, too." He was good that way. He thought the chores
he had done before she moved in were still his chores -- dishes and
breakfast. When she thought of the stories she'd heard about women who
worked full time  and came home to be a full-time homemaker, she counted
Bill among her blessings. He had his faults, but laziness wasn't among them.
Well, enough of musing on her marriage -- she had work to do.

When she rose and stretched, she got her papers together. She got her stuff
out of the bedroom, and took her face off, dealt minimally with her hair,
and did her other bathroom chores. When she got into bed, Bill was already
in the bathroom. She turned on the lamp. When he came in, he turned off the
overhead light.

He hadn't mentioned the idea of celebration again, but he started off much
more elaborately than his usual. Mr. Foreplay kissed all over her face
before kissing downward. He'd shaved, too. instead of zooming in on her
breasts, he gave them only a few kisses -- none on the nipples. He spent
more time on her belly. He didn't get between her legs for the ultimate
kiss, though. During his progress, she'd been half expecting it.

Instead, he returned to the top of the bed to kiss her mouth. He continued
that kiss while his hand went where his mouth had preceded it. As their
tongues met, he held her outer lips lightly between his fingers. He rubbed
them against one another. Since the days when boys had regarded reaching her
clit as the ultimate triumph of making out, her dates had always gone there
as soon as they could. Bill, alone, regarded the journey as important as the
destination. And this journey was delightful.

She was close before he reached her clit. Once there, though, he stayed
there, stroking it gently as she got closer and closer. She flew. Even then,
he continued the stimulation and continued the kiss.

"For the B." If that was in celebration of the B, what could he do to top
it?

Well, he was obviously going to try. Already he was kissing her right
breast. His hand, which had been resting on her delta went to work again on
the lip-stimulating business. Her arousal grew again. It spiraled upward
when he stroked her clit at the same time that he first sucked her nipple.
She was close again, and he make no interruption in his caresses. She flew
again, and again he continued the stimulation.

"For the A," he said when she'd finally relaxed.

But he wasn't allowing her any respite. It took him only a moment to switch
to her left breast. There was no journey, this time, no kissing a path
towards the nipple. He sucked on it while she got close again. Then, he did
pause, but only to move his body over hers.

"Yeah," she said when his penis was ready to enter her.

"For the A+!" And he entered her, stretched her, filled her. His eyes were
boring into hers as his penis bored into her. She couldn't help but rise to
meet it. And her body undulated against his as he drove into her again and
again. She got closer and closer. It was just beyond her reach... Then she
flew.

"Yes!" And Bill throbbed deep within her. He lay heavy on her, despite his
elbows on the bed, but it was a welcome weight. She hugged him.

"You are a delight," he said, "and not only in class." Well, he was a
delight, too.

"It's our own classroom," she replied. "And you're the teacher."

"Then you never get a grade lower than 100%." He gave her a kiss before
getting off and to his side of the bed.  There were a lot of folds in the
sheet and blanket on that side, and he took a bit of time digging through
them and straightening them out. Then he hugged her again. It was a nice
hug, but she was till lying on the wet spot.

"Move back." He not only moved back, he rolled over to turn off the lamp.
When he was in position, she got into the spoon position with her hips on
his side of the bed.

"My celebration. You have to hold me." And, he held her -- with a hand
cupping her breast -- until she was asleep.

The end
Bewildered - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/03/03


These same events from Bill's perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_05m.htm
Bill's experience

The first adventures of Carolyn with Bill:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_01f.htm
"Get a Room - F"

Another story about another couple beginning their marriage:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/fos_06f.htm
"Northern Sunset - F"


The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm
<1st attachment begin>

<HTML removed pursuant to http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy>
<1st attachment end>

----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
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}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+