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Message-ID: <61109asstr$1303294201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "His Victory - F" -- Uther -- MF wl preeg
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Date: Wed, 20 Apr 2011 06:10:01 -0400
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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.


His Victory - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF wl preg


Carolyn Pierce enjoyed singing. Singing in the choir was a contribution to
the church, but one she enjoyed. Sometimes, one cost of that contribution
was that it separated her from Bill for every service. Just occasionally,
one of the benefits to her was that it separated her from Bill. This,
though, was not one of those Sundays. They had banished the word "Watergate"
from any family discussion and never turned on the news when both were home.
Between that and their shared happiness at her pregnancy, they had achieved
peace.

When she came up from the choir-robe room to the October coffee hour, she
searched the room for Bill. He'd already seen her and was carrying two
plates towards a table at which they'd sit. One of his toddler favorites ran
up to him, was lifted high and set down, and ran off somewhere else. He had
her chair out and her plate in front of it by the time she got there. He
seated her and sat himself.

Richard and Judy were at the table with their kids. Bill called the kids
Marilyn and Pete in separate sentences early in the conversation. He knew
that she wasn't as conscious of kids and their names as he was -- even
high-school kids, whom these seemed to be. They called her "Mrs. Pierce."
Even so, she suspected that she was closer to the kids' ages than to their
parents.

When Grace announced the fall rummage sale, Carolyn thought of the stuff
she'd never wear again. This was a good time to get rid of it, and a worthy
place. The covers for the old twin bed, too. Belatedly, she saw that the
announcement had caused some distress at her table. Marilyn was scowling.

"I tried to tell them, dear," her mother said.

"If only they'd asked."

"What's wrong?" Bill asked. Good question.

"That Wednesday is MYF meeting night -- right here. They're going to set up
the rummage sale -- right here." Yeah, Grace had mentioned a new set-up
time. "If they'd *asked* we could have moved our date. It would have been
something we contributed, after all. Instead, they waited until after our
last meeting to announce that they were taking over. MYF can't even offer,
'cause we don't meet before that night."

"Well, dear," Judy said, "I only heard about it last night, myself. I
pointed out that there was a conflict, and Grace said that she was sure that
the MYF would be glad to cooperate."

"If she'd *asked*, we would have." her daughter said. "But now I have to
call everybody and tell them. Tell them what? I'm not entitled to change the
date or location without a vote." This month, this table wasn't going to be
the friendly interchange that coffee hour was supposed to be. She could
tell.

"I should get some things together for the sale," she told Bill on the trip
home. "Two pairs of jeans, for starters."

"Would you mind waiting 'til the next one?" That was an odd request.

"Bill, I'm never going to fit into those jeans again, let alone next
spring." Bill enjoyed her pregnancy, and was reasonably considerate of the
limits it imposed right now. Sometimes, he didn't see the limits it was
imposing on their future. To be honest, she, too, found herself making
occasional assumptions about the future which didn't include a kid.

"Yeah, but I don't want to cooperate in any way with pushing kids around.
That sucks." That was Bill. Teens weren't as important in his world-view as
babies were, but he thought they deserved priority over adults.

"Well, I'm sure they didn't mean anything. They just didn't think." And that
night be Bill's objection. He felt you should think about kids. Well, in
some moral sense, he was right -- we're all God's children. And,
practically, that feeling had given her some leverage with him. She was not
only carrying a kid, she was carrying his kid. She could go along with this.

"Fine. Can you hold on to the things for one more season? We still have a
large apartment." That was another bit that would change in the future. They
had a nice large apartment for a couple, one which afforded her a private
office. It wouldn't be that large an apartment for three.

"Sure."

Which was fine. Non-participation in evil -- even the evil of one church
group taking precedence over the one Bill preferred -- was a moral tenet.
And, in this situation, it was simple inaction.

But, after dinner, Bill went further. He showed her a letter to Grace saying
that he wouldn't help set up until the MYF meeting was over. With it was a
cover letter to other men asking them to make the same commitment. Of
course, Bill had never participated in set up. She doubted whether the
others would have, either. Grace had, it is true, asked for men to volunteer
to arrange tables, and the husbands of the UMW activists were fairly old.

"One thing I know. You don't fight the UMW." She'd been at Aldersgate for
only a few years, but she'd been raised in Methodist Churches.

"What are they going to do to me? Keep me off the finance committee?" Bill
had a point. He had no interest in being anything in the church but an
attendee.

"You don't fight the UMW." That was her last word, even so.

In the event, set-up was moved back to Thursday. Bill who'd practically
promised to take part, changed into work clothes, rushed through his meal,
and drove her to choir practice that night.

"Remember," she said as she got out of the car, "I've left our bag of
contributions in the back seat.

"I'll get them. No sense of taking rummage in there before the tables are
set up." There were a boy and a girl, Judy's Marilyn, already there when she
went through to the sanctuary and choir loft.

"Congratulate Bill for me -- at home." Gladys whispered to her when she came
in minutes later. She was active in UMW, the second-youngest member in the
younger circle. She'd complained to Carolyn once about what that showed of
the weakness of the UMW chapter. Any influence she hoped to have depended on
discretion in what she said.

Coming down from the rehearsal, they saw that the tables were all set up.
Carolyn had wanted Bill from before the first kiss. She had never needed
him. She was an independent woman with a career and an education which was
finally nearing completion. What she realized when she saw Bill talking with
a teen-age girl is that she now needed him. She was pregnant and didn't want
to be an unwed mother. The thought quickly followed a pang of jealousy.

Approaching more closely, she saw that the jealousy was misplaced. Bill was
talking to two teenagers, and they were looking everywhere but at each
other. She turned her misplaced feeling into a joke.

"Hah. Should have known, let you alone for a few minutes, and I find you
talking with a pretty girl."

"I think Dan's lurking in the car, Gladys." Bill said while he thought of
his answer to her. "Andy's here too, dear. I'm not just talking to Marilyn."
He was keeping up his rule of mentioning kids' names in ways that didn't
sound -- except to her -- as though he thought she didn't remember them.
And, while she remembered Marilyn after her near-breakdown at the last
coffee hour, she couldn't have guessed Andy's name in a million years.

"Of course. Marilyn wouldn't have stuck around if there weren't somebody
interesting to talk to." That got no response from Bill, and something near
a blush from Marilyn. They all got up, got their coats on, and went out the
door.

"Marilyn," Bill said. "Sometime when your education is over and you're out
in the business world, you're likely to have a boss who tells you that his
wife doesn't understand him. Don't give him the least sympathy. My wife
understands me, and it's pure hell." That was funny, not least because a
henpecked Bill was a ridiculous idea.

"I'll have to ask you guys to sit in back," he said when they got to the
car. This was her first notice that they were giving the kids rides.
"Sorry."

"I'm so grateful," Marilyn said when they had got going.  "It's nice to have
one adult in the church who doesn't think of us as a bunch of kids." Which
was funny, since she should know what Bill thought about kids.

"You got the wrong person for that, Marilyn," she said. "Bill's objection
was that they were pushing kids around. If they'd have shoved the
kindergarten class of the Sunday School aside, he'd have dropped a stink
bomb on the next UMW meeting." But she was a nice girl. Andy was probably a
nice guy, and they deserved a little time together without Bill hovering
over them.

"I'm just as glad that we're driving you back," she said. "What's your
address again?" Marilyn gave it. "I know that nothing bad ever happens in
the neighborhood, but there can be a first time. Andy, would you mind
walking her to her door when we get there?" Marilyn, clearly not the
sharpest knife in the rack, started to protest. "I know. Just to keep an old
woman from worrying."

Bill, whatever her previously-stated opinions about his social sensitivity,
got her intent. When the kids were safely out of the car and on their way to
Marilyn's front door -- not dense enough to walk briskly, he turned to her.
"Vapors about her going home alone? Why didn't you invite them to the
apartment, lock them in your office, and not let them out 'til they pass out
their clothes?" He was exaggerating.

"Bill, you have no romance in your soul. They're not at a stage to get their
clothes off -- except with the boy's eyes, which have accomplished that
already. They are two nice kids who need a few minutes more in each others'
company. Shh! He's coming back." When Andy had got into the back again, she
asked his address. He apologized for their having practically driven past
it. He hadn't been naive enough, however, to mention that at the time.

"That's fine." she told him. "Ladies first is the rule."

"She was nice," said Andy. "Much nicer than she is at meetings."

"Well," she pointed out, "she needs to run those meetings. She can't give
you her full attention, not even half her attention. You go to the same
school, don't you?" They did. "Try talking with her at school. Can't hurt."

"I will." He got out. Somehow, the car had stopped. "Thanks. Thanks to both
of you." Bill squeezed her knee before starting the car.

She wondered, climbing the stairs to their apartment, how much her interest
in playing cupid was encouraging a couple of cute kids -- and how much was
building one more wall between Marilyn and Bill. Well, she might need him
more than she had, but -- despite her shape -- he didn't seem to want her
any less. And a little ego-boost, a well-earned ego-boost, wouldn't hurt.

"Well, you took on the UMW, and you won," she said when they were inside.

"Great victory -- a coven of old bats."

"Hey! Gladys is active, and I'll be officially joining when they start
asking."

"But Gladys and you weren't behind this,"he said. "A few old bats were.
C'mere." And she was glad to come there. Bill's tongue explored her mouth.
He followed the sexy kiss with a fond one on her belly. He even, once they
were in their room, began to strip her. She'd read all the complaints about
men considering women to be sex objects; as she grew less sexy, she was
happier about Bill treating her as one. Sure, the most kissed section of her
body as the stripping went on was her new belly, but that was fine, too.

Once they were in bed, Bill began his kisses again on her mouth. He went
from there directly to her belly.

"You seem extra eager tonight," she asked. "Were you inspired by the love
birds?" Or, just maybe, the victorious warrior wanted to score one more
coup. Any reason was fine. Truth to tell, she wanted him tonight, too.

"Hmmm." Which wasn't an answer, even by Bill's standards. On the other hand,
he started to kiss the insides of her thighs, which took her mind off her
question.

He kissed and licked a path towards where the thighs joined. He went to her
so directly, she expected him to concentrate on her clit immediately. He
surprised her, though. He licked her lower lips for a while without ever
reaching her clit. Then he licked it lightly and went back to the lips. She
was very close, was almost ready to demand that he get to the main show when
he did. And when he kissed her clit, he hummed around it and against it.
With that odd sensation, that completely new arousal, she flew further than
she had ever gone before.

She came back to find him kissing and licking her thighs again. She sank
into the bed and into that bath of sensuality. When he got back to her lower
lips, she got close again. But his teasing was even worse than before. He
licked her lips, stroked her thighs, never touched her clit.

"Please, Bill." That got her one lick where she needed it, and she got
closer. Then he went back to her lips. "Please." She was begging, and he
must have understood that. He licked and kissed her clit until she flew
again.

When she recovered, he went back to his lovely, arousing, but now
insufficient mouth work. No more begging! She grabbed his shoulders
insistently. When he resisted even so, she said what she'd meant -- what
he'd damned-well known she'd meant.

"Please, I need you." At this, he finally moved up her body. He poised, his
head raised above her, but his loins *almost* locked with hers. Then,
staring into her eyes, he finished the connection. He entered her; he spread
her; he filled her.

As he moved slowly but forcefully within her, her hips rose to meet him. She
locked her legs around his and pushed against them to meet him more closely
on his thrusts. She was close, getting closer, but his gaze was locked on
her and his pace never varied. After one agonizing instant, she flew.

He thrust harder and rolled them to her right. Then he was pulsing deep
within her. They hugged each other as their breaths slowed. His care to lie
on her leg rather than on her belly was probably -- according to Dr. Gabel
-- unnecessary. It did, however, demonstrate care, and it was more
comfortable.

"Love you," he said as he began to move off. He turned away to turn off the
bedside lamp. She waited for him to get into position before she moved off
the wet spot and into his hug.

"Love you, too." And, despite all their conflicts, it was real love.

The end
His Victory - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/04/19



These same events from Bill's perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_12m.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 adjusting to the limits imposed by
pregnancy:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/brennan/bearing.htm
"Forbearing"


The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm
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