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Message-ID: <61119asstr$1303863001@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "New Slant - F" -- Uther -- MF wl preg
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Date: Tue, 26 Apr 2011 20:10:01 -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.


New Slant - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF wl preg


Carolyn Pierce felt she was in a race with herself. Which would she produce
first, a child or a dissertation? It was a race she was losing, which meant
-- in some sense -- that she was winning it, too. But she definitely would
prefer to produce the dissertation first, and it didn't look like she would.
For one thing, once a dissertation was finished, it was quite finished. You
needn't feed it or diaper it. She had no illusions that the baby would be so
simple. Anyway, the dissertation was coming along slowly. She was still
struggling with the first draft, and she was clear that there would be
others.

She'd already limited herself. The locations of bookstores in Chicago had
changed to the bookstores in a Northern section of Chicago. With that
limitation approved, she had been able to finish the interview section of
her research. The library research had been less trouble. Arranging all that
information so that it both made sense and could be comprehended by a reader
was the current struggle. And, as her pregnancy advanced, she was not only
moving more slowly, she was thinking more slowly.

The rest of the world didn't stop because she was concentrating on two
things, either. She was still assistant-teaching one course, and she was
still attending Aldersgate UMC. The last got her a call from Judy Grant.

"You're a member of the UMW, aren't you?"

"Sorta. Gladys had me fill out a membership app and pay the dues. I'm not
really planning to attend until I'm slimmer."

"Hah! You think you'll have more time after the delivery. Really, they're
less trouble -- hard as that is to believe now -- when they're inside you.
Anyway, don't tell Gladys." She didn't like the sound of that, but she kept
her silence. After a moment, Judy went on.

"You, of all people, should remember the brouhaha over the last rummage
sale."

"Well, I'm married to the man who started it."

"Bill didn't really start it. He just refused to roll over. Well, some of us
are getting a little tired. The group needs new blood at the top, and won't
get it until some new people attend, which won't happen as long as it's the
same old - same old, which won't change until we get some new blood at the
top."

"You make it sound hopeless."

"It nearly is, but not quite. The executive committee are the four officers,
president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer. They move up the
chairs. Only death, and maybe not that, can keep this year's treasurer from
becoming next year's secretary. And so forth. Well, some of us want to elect
Gladys as treasurer. Otherwise, it will be Grace Benton, and nothing will
change. Enough of us with formal membership attending the meeting can elect
her. Gladys has ideas. Not that Grace doesn't, just that Grace's ideas are
the center of the problem. Can we count on you? And don't tell Gladys."

"Seems a nasty trick on her."

"Well, she'll do the job if she's elected. She needs to be able to say that
she's as surprised as anybody, which will be true. Can we count on you?
Saturday at 6:30."

"All right. I'll try."

And she made it. The meeting started with a reading of the minutes of the
last meeting. The business of the UMW seemed to be conducting meetings to
report and vote on conducting the last and next meeting. There was a
devotional, which consisted of one woman reading from a booklet in a
monotone. All this time, women were looking at the new attendees. They
elected a president, vice president -- who was asked to continue taking
minutes for this meeting only, and a secretary with only one nomination
each.

"Are there nominations for Treasurer?" Jane Wiggins, the new president
asked.

"I nominate Gladys Hagopian," Judy said in a louder, clearer voice than most
of the previous speakers had used. There were murmurs seconding it.

"Other nominations?" Jane looked right at Beverly Trueblood.

"I nominate Grace Benton." Several people looked like they were counting the
likely votes on their fingers. But Grace got up.

"Grace Benton declines." She looked around the room. "You women think you've
done something special. Well, I know Gladys. She'll do the work. But that
won't mean much if you go home and forget this. If you really want to
support her, you should attend more meetings than once a year." She sat
down. Gladys was elected by the same unanimous vote, and joined the other
officers at the head table.

Well, the others could support Gladys or -- if they chose -- not support
Gladys. That meeting had been too long sitting in one position. The baby
told her so. She seemed to be kicking in all directions at once.

"What happened?" Bill asked after they'd got in the car. He'd been waiting
outside the church for her to emerge.

"An absolute coup d'etat. Gladys is now treasurer of the UMW. Apparently,
the officers rotate, but the list of four doesn't change. Your storming the
Bastille has led to a new government. I just hope Gladys has some plans."

"The Hagopians have plans. They always do. Remember the Thanksgiving meal?"
She did. It had brought her and Bill back together. Gladys hadn't always
been happy about that; <b>she</b> hadn't always been happy about that. But
now she was. Bill walked behind her up the stairs when they got home. She
could manage perfectly well, but he always was prepared to catch her these
days.

In the apartment, in the bedroom, she stripped and eased herself onto the
bed. She pulled the sheet and blanket over her. They'd bought a blanket with
separate heat for the two sides because she always wanted more heat than
Bill did. This year, perhaps because the different apartment had better
heat, she never turned it on. The baby kicked one more time.

"Bill." She grabbed his hand and held it to the spot. When the kicking
seemed to be over, he dropped his hand to the mattress and raised himself up
to be at a good angle for kissing. He returned the hand to her belly,
though, just in case. The kiss was deep and satisfying. Bill knew her so
well, and his skills always brought her satisfaction. Still, maybe it was
time for a small change. She brought it up as his kisses moved on to her
throat.

"Look, can we change something?"

"What am I doing wrong, now?" He sounded annoyed and defensive.

"It's really not doing something wrong. You know how you turn us over at the
end? So you don't lie so heavy on her?" By now, she was certain she would
have a girl. It wasn't a matter of evidence, it was a matter of intuition.

"Is that wrong? I thought it was the right thing to do."

"Well, when you started, it might have been a bit premature -- lovely,
caring, thought, though. Right now, it might not be quite enough. Do you
think you could do it earlier?"

"Earlier?"

"Like right at the beginning. Once you're in me, could you roll us to the
side, like you do now, but at the get-go?"

"Oh, sure. You don't want to try from in back?" He wasn't defensive now.
Something had changed, but she couldn't see what.

"That'll come soon enough. You don't mind?"

"Darling, no. I'm just sorry I've been pressing too hard." After all the
times being annoyed at his arrogance, it was troubling that she was now
annoyed at his guilt trips.

"Really, you haven't. Remember that Dr. Gabel told me that sex was safe as
long as it didn't make me uncomfortable. Well, that puts me in charge,
doesn't it? You aren't supposed to feel if I'm uncomfortable; I am. And, as
soon as it starts to get uncomfortable, I suggest a change. Sorry. You
aren't in charge, I am."

"You always have been." He kissed her again, ending the conversation quite
effectively. He stroked her until she flew, then watched her and kissed her
belly and breasts until she was quite done. He sucked her nipples and
stroked her clit until she was close again.

"Bill?" She hadn't the energy for more than two tonight. He rose above her
length, not touching anywhere. She used one hand to spread herself open and
another to guide him in. Slowly, carefully, he filled her. At the last, his
belly pressed against hers.

"Darling!" She clasped her knees around his hips as he rolled them over. She
was almost on her right side, and he was in front of her and slightly above
her. His strokes were long and slow while he stared straight into her eyes.
She was close, even closer. She flew.

"Darling," he said again, but louder. He thrust harder into her and pulsed
in her depths. When he relaxed, he fell to his side until he was lying on
nothing but her thigh.

He rolled onto his back a minute later. Her leg was underneath his,  but --
since his knees were bent -- they barely touched. When he rolled over to
turn off the lamp, she extricated her legs. He turned on his side, and she
snuggled up against him in the spoon. He held her breast, but, when the baby
kicked again, she moved his hand to one of the spots. She and Bill,
hopefully all three of them, drifted off to sleep.


The end
New Slant - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/04/26


These same events from Bill's perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_13m.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 experiencing church politics from another
perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/bla_07f.htm
"Reassigned - F"


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