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Message-ID: <39777asstr$1039605002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon)
Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} rp "Wrapped Attention 1" {Pendragon} (MF rom 1st) [1/3]
Date: Wed, 11 Dec 2002 06:10:02 -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, 1996, 1997, 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.


    
                       ==================

                       WRAPPED  ATTENTION
                       by Uther Pendragon
                        anon584c@nyx.net


Part One: Monday 

Alex's determination and experience were enough to focus his 
attention on the lunch conversation.  When the lunch ended, 
however, he forgot business for the day.  He had promised Tabitha 
the afternoon before she took the train home for Christmas 
vacation.  She was waiting when he drove up to the dorm at 1:25.  

"You're early," he said.  "Eager to get home?"  

"The train isn't 'til seven.  I'm eager to see you.  You're 
early too."  

"I was eager to see you.  I'll miss you."  He was mildly 
disappointed that Tabitha hadn't echoed his sentiment.  But he 
was twice her age and always believed, despite her denials, that 
he was twice as invested in the relationship.  Love would happen 
to her again but not to him.  That it had happened to him, that 
this young beauty reciprocated his love, was enough and blessing 
indeed.  

He took her suitcase and put it in the trunk.  She carried a 
purse and wore a backpack which looked a little incongruous with 
her dress and good coat.  "Eaten?" he asked.  

"No."  

"Restaurant, McDonald's or chez moi?"  

"Yours, if it's okay."  

"Mi casa es su casa."  Then he wished that he had said it 
differently.  All that remained of his French consisted of a few 
tags.  She really was studying Spanish.  

"I may take you up on that, someday."  She might take him up 
on that this afternoon, if she could keep up her nerve.  

"'Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take 
you in.'  Mine is where, when you want to go there, they want to 
take you in."  

"Don't talk to me of home."  

"Honey, I'm near your dad's age.  I'm divorced.  If I'd had a 
kid, and a divorced man my age had come buzzing around, I'd not 
have acted snotty to him.  I'd not have grilled him on his 
business and whether it was stable.  I'd not have asked whether 
his sexual orientation might be a bit ambiguous considering his 
long time without a spouse.  

"I *would*, however, have looked for somebody to break 
his kneecaps."  

"You're only supposed to be understanding of me.  They 
*said* that you could visit over Thanksgiving.  I thought 
that they would get to like you, not try to drive you off."  

"Sorry.  The thing is, I love you; and sometimes *I* want 
to protect you from this antique who has been taking advantage of 
you.  I can see why others who love you might always feel that 
way."  

"See, they can ruin our Christmas spirit; and they are more 
than a state away."  It was nerves that were ruining her 
Christmas spirits, but she couldn't say that.  He'd ask why.  

"With you beside me, nothing ruins my spirits, Christmas or 
no. So did you finish your paper?"  

"I turned it in this morning.  I had to say 'No Alex until I'm 
finished' or I would never have finished.  You do understand?" It 
sounded awfully selfish to her.  

"I'm *supposed* to be understanding of you.  And I never 
want to stand in the way of your studies.  Was it a good paper?" 
That was a source of conversation until they got to his condo.  

She cooked, proud to show her skills and feeling proprietary 
of that small corner of his space.  She made a large Western 
omelette, and he ate a nominal serving to be with her.  She 
declined his offer of wine with the meal.  

He could see that she was antsy about something but unready to 
talk about it.  "Well," he thought, "let's see."  

"Did I mention," he asked her, "why I had to go on a business 
lunch before I could pick you up?"  

"I already knew.  You're a very important person, and 
everybody wants to talk with you."  

"I wish I was that important.  

"What actually happened was that the head of Agency was 
arguing again that we are overpricing associational groups.  I 
and the chief actuary weren't going to give in, but we had to 
listen politely."  He went on telling her tales from his office, 
giving her his voice without requiring active thought from her.  

She finally dodged out to the hall to get her backpack.  "Did 
you get me a present for Christmas?" she asked.  

"I did, and it's wrapped.  Do you want me to get it?"  

"Not now.  I want you to tell people that I gave you this for 
Christmas."  She handed him a box which obviously held a tie.  He 
thought the phrasing odd.  She knew that his discretion was on 
her account.  "Don't I get a kiss in thanks?"  She could get a 
kiss for any reason or none.  

She knew that she could re-decide now.  She could see no 
reason to go back.  Then Alex's lips were on hers, and his arms 
were holding her.  She could see all the reasons to go forward.  
She pulled his face down toward hers.  

He could taste her through the omelette.  She was youth and 
beauty and love and Tabitha.  He kissed her hard, but she pulled 
him down harder.  When his hands smoothed her back and buns, she 
ground herself against his beginning erection.  He had insisted 
that she set the limits and not change them in the heat of 
passion.  Now, the limits were her panties.  He could do anything 
that he wanted without removing her panties.  He would take his 
time, but he would give her something warm to remember in the 
train through the cold fields.  

He kissed her mouth and ear and neck and mouth.  He petted her 
back and buns and breasts.  He removed her dress and was startled 
at a half slip in this weather.  That did, however, give him much 
more skin to kiss.  He was kneeling, kissing her ticklish belly, 
when he unsnapped her bra.  He rose and stood back.  He could not 
bear to unveil that perfection without his eyes being on it.  She 
had been shy about that once, and he was glad that she had gotten 
over that.  

She never understood his lavish attention to her small 
breasts. He indulged her in so much, however, that she could 
indulge him in this ritual.  He stood and looked straight at her 
covered breasts.  He slowly drew the bra straps forward while she 
held her arms to free them.  Then, the bra in his hand, he looked 
at each breast in turn.  He drew and released a deep breath.  He 
bent to kiss each on the upper slope, not the tips.  Her breasts 
were firm, she needed the bra more for coverage than for support; 
but nobody else thought that they were special.  

He saw the perfection again.  Shallow cones rather than sacks, 
they held their shape proudly.  The areolae were bright pink, and 
the nipples of the same shade stood at attention for his 
inspection.  He kissed them in homage and kissed her deeply 
before drawing her after him to the couch.  There he kissed every 
inch of their ideal firmness.  Most of his attention, though, was 
to the tips.  He lipped and sucked at the nipples, which stood as 
firm there as he now stood below.  

He continued licking and kissing them while his hand stroked 
her thighs under her half slip.  She was slower parting her legs 
than she usually was, and he wondered if the nervousness about 
the upcoming trip had put her off.  He looked in her eyes to 
check her emotional state.  

She wanted these caresses.  She had decided and passed the 
point of no return.  She was so excited that she worried that her 
moisture was soaking into the half slip.  She was scared to 
death.  She wanted him to go on.  She couldn't part her legs for 
a fortune.  He looked at her.  Parting her legs was easier than 
staring into those eyes she loved, so she did.  

The motion of her legs was a request more direct than words 
could be.  He responded by stroking his hand up one of her thighs 
toward her panties.  He reached hair instead.  He froze.  

"You want me to tell people that you gave me the tie?"  She 
nodded.  "Instead?"  She nodded again.  He'd asked a 
fill-in-the-blank question and she had answered a true-false one. 
He knew he could, however, do anything with her that didn't 
involve removing her panties.  If she meant something else, she 
would tell him.  He changed his position and took her in his 
arms.  Unfortunately it took him two tries to get up from that 
position.  "Suave, Alex," he thought.  

She clung to him as he lifted her.  When she saw that he was 
heading into the bedroom she knew that she had passed the point 
of no return.  So much weight lifted from her stomach that she 
was surprised that she didn't rise in his arms.  He stood her on 
her feet to remove the half slip.  She was naked in his arms. 
Then he led her to the bed.  She watched as he stripped to his 
wristwatch.  His penis was not a complete surprise; but it was 
long, jutting out, and curved upward.  It looked surprisingly 
cruel for the maleness of such a kind man.  

He wished she'd given them more time, but the lady was always 
entitled to her doubts.  Tabitha had obviously had doubts.  "Do 
you have another gift that you don't want me talking about?"  She 
nodded.  "Is this it?"  

"Half of it."  

"Ninety-nine percent.  If the rest is the Kohinoor diamond, 
this is a hundred times more valuable."  He reached for the 
nightstand and drew out a box he hadn't needed since soon after 
they met.  

"No," she said.  He raised his eyebrows.  "I'm on the pill. 
Since November."  

"You've been planning this."  

"But I wanted to be able to back out."  

"It's a big step.  You still can.  Or you can wait 'til you 
get back from the vacation."  He suspected that he would run 
howling to the window and jump twenty-seven stories to the street 
if she did.  

"That's the other half. ... If you'll have me."  

"Have you?  You mean stay here?"  She nodded.  "How long?"  

"Until school starts again."  

"What will you tell your parents?"  

"I already told them. I told them that the trip home on 
Thanksgiving was hell, and that I felt more comfortable in a cold 
dorm than in an inhospitable house."  

"You figured that they would welcome a change of mind, and 
that I would welcome a sudden guest.  You kept your options 
open."  

"Plus, they needed to hear that, anyway."  

"What did I need to hear."  He climbed into the other side of 
the bed and pulled the covers over them both.  

"That I love you.  But I'd already said it.  I wasn't sure 
that I was ready to act on it yet."  She felt odd.  He was a foot 
away. Her parents, she knew, had long -- non-erotic -- 
conversations in bed.  This was as if she and Alex had just 
jumped into a decade-old marriage.  

"I love you too.  And I knew that you loved me."  

"I know that.  Both of those things.  And I knew that this was 
where our love was heading, my love was heading.  But I wanted to 
play with time.  The truth is that I planned this forever.  It 
was real fun to plan.  I think that planning it was the last 
thing that I gave up."  

"And now you have given it up.  The gift is mine?"  

"Absolutely."  

"You were right by the way."  

"Huh?"  

"It is half."  

He moved suddenly toward her.  Her excitement had gone down 
enough that she almost panicked, but a decision is a decision. 
She spread her legs.  He was kissing her forehead when he figured 
out what that gesture meant.  He laughed.  

"You are sweet, love," he said.  He kissed her nose and went 
back to her forehead.  He kissed the whole rest of her face 
before getting to her mouth.  Only then did he begin petting her.  

It seemed to her that he was starting over and moving slower 
than he had at the beginning, but the nakedness cut out many 
steps. She lay on her back.  He lay on his side against her with 
his erection lying casually across her thigh.  Instead of 
formally unveiling her breasts, he kissed a path down neck and 
shoulders to one while holding the other.  Only when he was 
sucking and licking on that nipple did his hand stroke downward.  
He stopped for a moment to play with the hair on her delta, then 
continued onward.  

Her legs were pressed together.  He abandoned her breast for a 
moment.  "At this point, having your legs spread *would* be 
convenient."  He returned to his sucking as she steeled herself 
to do that spreading.  When she had, he cupped that area with his 
hand in one motion.  Her legs closed again.  

"I'm sorry," she said.  

"Don't be."  He moved to her other breast.  Soon her legs 
relaxed in response to that sucking.  He stroked her outer lips, 
and she tensed again, but only briefly.  After a while, despite 
her remaining nervousness, she was hotter than she had ever felt 
before.  As he continued stroking, she felt the tension build 
that only her hands had ever brought on.  

He, too, noted the tension and found himself praying for the 
first time in years.  "Alex?"  she said.  

"Relax love" she heard.  "Trust me.  Let it happen."  She 
couldn't relax.  She did trust him.  Soon it happened.  He kept 
stroking and sucking through the climax.  That made it better 
than she had ever done for herself.  When she did relax, he 
abandoned the nipple and stopped moving his hand.  He kissed a 
sort of peck on her mouth.  "Lovely, dearest.  You did great." 
She thought that an odd comment when he had done it all.  

It seemed to Alex that there were more people in his head than 
in the New Hampshire Legislature.  A clinician checked a box and 
said, "Great, she's orgasmic."  A paternal figure and a teacher 
congratulated her on her accomplishment.  A lustful rapist 
struggled against the protective lover.  The foxhole Christian 
thanked the Lord, quite earnestly, for prayers answered.  As her 
breath quieted, he slipped one finger in her vagina.  One finger 
was a tight fit.  

"It is crass and boorish to pry," he said, "but I do need to 
know this.  Have you ever done this before?  I don't mean 
surprise Christmas gifts.  Have you ever had full intercourse 
with a man or a boy?"  

"God no!  Would I have held you off if I had?"  

"You would have had that right.  Never think otherwise."  He 
left his finger there while they shared a deep kiss with tongue 
licking tongue.  Tabitha had managed to surprise him with her 
gift, but he had certainly dreamed of her acceptance ... and 
worried about it.  Would his marriage to Lorraine have survived 
all the other problems if she had really enjoyed intercourse? 
Would she have enjoyed intercourse as much as she had seemed to 
enjoy petting if he had been gentler with her?  Tabitha was a 
jewel too precious for him to keep, but he would be *damned* 
if he was going to tarnish her.  "Dearest, you gave this gift to 
me?  It is all mine to do with as I wish?"  

She was startled at the question, even a little apprehensive; 
but the answer was clear in her mind.  "Absolutely.  I am yours."  

"Well, it turns out that the gift comes in a very tightly 
wrapped package.  I could rip it open, but I think the wrapping 
is rather nice.  I'm going to open it very slowly and carefully.  
I hope you take that as liking for the wrapping and not any 
disrespect to the contents.  

"You have given me two wonderful gifts.  The second means that 
we have time.  I'd like to take the time to stretch you.  That 
could be done (I'm depending on reading here) by your fingers or 
mine. I'd like to use another part of my body.  

"That is my choice, but you'll have to co-operate.  

"I should mention now that I love you.  It was part of the 
foundation of that last, but didn't get expressed.  

"From now until Christmas, you must tell me the absolute 
truth."  

"I will," she said as earnestly as possible.  

"And you must let me do with you what I wish. And you must 
warn me of any pain that you feel, however slight.  For we are 
not going to cause you any pain.  Oh, you might stub your toe."  
She grinned at the irrelevance.  "But not if I can help it."  He 
went from that speech to kissing her breasts again.  His relation 
to these was close to idolatry, but his present purpose was to 
crank up her id while her ego was wrestling with his recent 
statements. 



His speech surprised her.  She had known that he was kind and 
considerate, but her plan had been for a quick defloration 
followed by all the joys that the bodice-rippers had promised 
her.  On the other hand, he knew what he was doing.  She didn't 
*believe* the bodice rippers, not quite.  She had said that 
the gift was his, so the pictures which had accompanied her 
self-fingering weren't her right to demand.  Besides, his caring 
was part of what she loved about him, and his wisdom was another 
part.  

She was as surprised at his jumping from talk to action as she 
was at his speech.  The action, itself, was not a surprise; but 
the inaction, the lack of direct attack upon her genitals was. 
Then the sensations took over.  She pulled him to her for a kiss, 
and he came willingly.  

He finally broke it and kissed her neck and an ear.  He began 
stroking her vulva now.  He pressed the top where the lips just 
begin to part before delving between the outer lips to rub, very 
gently, the inner ones against each other.  He wanted moisture. 
He wanted her afloat but realized that she was still too nervous 
to expect that. She seemed liquid enough, however.  He rolled her 
over with her back to him before adjusting his position.  

"Keep your right leg way up there, love.  That's right.  Now 
arch your back a little.  The other way.  Let me.  Oh love.  I 
love you.  Now let me get my hand around here.  Do you feel me 
slipping back and forth in your valley?  That's it.  Now I'm at 
the critical point, so to speak."  

"Yes.  I can tell."  He was just nudging into the place she 
put the tampons.  

"Now what I had thought was that I would move forward until 
you told me to stop.  But that wouldn't work right.  I want you 
to promise that you will *not* be a brave girl....  I don't 
hear your promise."  

"I promise."  

"Okay.  Now move back very gently.  Stop when you think that 
there *will* be pain."  

"Like that?"  

"Oh yes.  Oh sweet.  Oh darling....  Is that still 
comfortable?" He could feel the tight band of her entrance on the 
very tip of his cock.  There had been more room for his finger.  
This was clearly a bad position for actual entrance, but it 
seemed a good one for stretching.  

"There's no pain, if that's what you mean.  My leg feels 
worse."  

"Okay.  Ease it down.  Sorry about that....  Did I ever tell 
you that I love you?"  

"I love you too."  

He petted her sides, her leg, and occasionally her breast.  He 
rested his left hand lightly on her back.  He asked about her 
classes and what she thought she had done on her tests.  The 
mention of tests tensed her up, which crossed his purpose for the 
conversation.  She got out all her negative expectations about 
her courses, however.  They had to be expressed once this 
fortnight, and he hoped that boil was lanced.  His watch said 
that they had spent ten minutes since she lowered her leg, but he 
wanted the tension gone.  

"Do you want a tree this year?" he asked.  

"Could we?"  Whatever she thought of her family, family 
Christmas was real Christmas.  A tree would make it much better.  

He smiled at the pleasure in her voice.  A tree would cost 
less than the price of the restaurant lunch that she had turned 
down.  

"Sure.  I'll put it up, but you'll have to come along to pick 
it out.  I have some decorations around here, but maybe we'll 
pick up some others."  She had moved a little at the suggestion. 
"Move back now.  That's good.  Press back as hard as is 
comfortable."  He felt a slightly greater penetration.  "Now tell 
me if it becomes uncomfortable.  Come to that, move first and 
tell me after."  

"Can I move now?"  He immediately removed his hands.  Was she 
in pain after all?  

"Go ahead."  She squirmed a little.  If anything, his 
penetration was a little greater afterward.  The squirming, 
however, teased his cock unmercifully.  

"There.  That is better, you weren't coming at me right."  She 
pressed back a little more, and took another millimeter inside. 
She thought about ignoring her promise about pain, but decided 
that it wouldn't work.  She could brace herself for the instant 
of pain.  She wasn't prepared to keep up this constant pressure 
if it would be pressure against soreness.  Besides, Alex should 
be in charge, it was his gift.  

He went back to his monologue about the office.  He wanted her 
neither worried nor excited.  It worked.  "Anyway, I may still go 
for FSA, but it's a long hard slog."  

"What's that?" she asked.  

"Fellow Society of Actuaries."  

"I thought you were."  

"Casualty Actuarial Society.  It's a different group.  Harder 
problems, but don't ever quote me."  At the next ten minute 
point, he pressed forward and entered a little more.  "Hurt?"  

"Not at all."  She pressed back a little.  He talked on for 
five minutes, but he stroked her breast more and rested his hand 
less. He drew back an inch, which was more than enough to pull 
himself completely out.  He changed his angle and stroked forward 
up her cleft.  He missed her entrance completely this way but 
brushed over her clitoris.  

She worried that this brushing threatened to bring her to 
another crisis.  Then she hoped that it would bring her there.  
She stiffened as the strokes in her valley and the rubbing on her 
nipples continued.  She tightened her legs together and shuddered 
to his motions.  He continued until she collapsed into limpness. 
Then he cuddled her until her breath returned.  

"I do not have," he said, "the words to express how much I 
love you.  You are the best thing to happen to me in my whole 
life."  

"I was just thinking that I was getting all the pleasure from 
this."  

"You couldn't be more wrong.  You are getting all the orgasms, 
but that will change.  I have never had pleasure to compare with 
holding your sweet, naked, responsive, body in my arms."  

"When will it change?"  She wanted his response, an 
affirmation from him deeper than his words.  

"Do you want it to be now?"  

"I'd like that."  

"Even though it will be outside you?"  

"Yes."  Indeed, his determination that her defloration had to 
be painless had become important to her as well.  It wasn't her 
choice, but it was a sign of his caring.  She didn't want it to 
go astray.  

Gladly, he moved away from her.  He hadn't known how long he 
was going to be able to hold out.  She just began to feel the 
loss of his warmth on her back before she heard him say, "Roll 
over."  

He climbed over her with his legs on the outside.  Her 
exquisite belly with its slight pad over her taut muscles was 
damp with perspiration.  His cock was covered with her moisture 
and his own precum.  He figured that this would be enough 
lubricant.  

He took her hand in his and wrapped it around the base of his 
cock.  Her touch was lighter than his own, and her hand was much 
smaller.  All the sensitive parts stuck out.  

"Just hold me like that while I do the moving."  He lowered 
his body so that he was just brushing against her slick belly.  
Then he let nature drive his motions.  The hour of building 
tension, the warm clutch of her fingers on his shaft, the 
friction against her skin, all pushed him to a rapid escalation.  

She felt sheltered by his warmth over her and around her.  She 
felt intrigued by the organ in her hand.  She felt honored by, 
and a little nervous of, his obvious passion.  

Then she noticed the look on his face.  He didn't look 
pleased; he looked in pain.  She feared for a moment that he was 
having a heart attack.  People did have them before forty.  Then 
the speed doubled, and he looked as if the pain had doubled, and 
juice squirted out of his penis.  She knew it was an orgasm.  She 
just had never seen a male orgasm before.  It was landing all 
over her.  Then he was done.  His organ shrank and softened in 
her hand.  She dropped it.  

His motion peaked with his desire, then he froze in position 
while his tension poured out with his semen.  He sagged above her 
while catching his breath.  After a minute or two, he climbed off 
her and went to the bathroom.  He returned with washcloths and a 
towel.  

"Lesson one for terminal virgins," he said.  She giggled.  
"Men create a *horrible* mess.  Lesson two, that makes it 
the man's responsibility to clean up."  He wiped off her belly, 
folded the cloth, covered a few areas which might have been hit. 
"Did I miss anywhere?"  She shook her head.  He kissed a nipple. 
"Are you sure that none hit here?"  

"I'm sure."  

He kissed the other nipple.  "Or here?"  She giggled.  He 
kissed her mouth.  That was a long kiss.  

"You don't need a reason to kiss me, you know," she said.  

"You are the reason to kiss you.  And I *do* need you.  
The other excuses are just for fun.  Are you glad that I did that 
without waiting to be inside?"  

"I guess.  You frightened me."  

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have pushed for that."  

"No.  That's not it.  You looked like you were in pain.  I was 
thinking 'heart attack.'"  

"Don't worry.  I have the heart of a man half my age....  I 
keep it in a jar on the top shelf."  She laughed.  "You can't 
imagine how sexy your laughs look from here.  But don't worry.  
I'll survive my orgasms.  Someday we'll get a video camera, and 
you'll see how you look."  That idea didn't appeal to her at all.  

"Hug me so I'll know that you're alive."  They hugged face to 
face, and he kissed the frown lines off her forehead.  

"I'm alive.  You won't get rid of me that easily.  

"Look," he continued, "there are a few practical details.  I 
have to get the car off the street.  Before that I have to get 
your luggage.  Before that I have to know whether you want to 
sleep in here with me or in the guest room.  You might want to 
check out the larder and see if there is anything that we'll 
need."  

"I sleep here.  You won't get rid of *me* that easily."  

"I love you."  They kissed for a while before they got up and 
dressed.  

She went wild in the grocery, shopping as though they would 
eat in for the next two weeks.  He proffered a charge card and 
ignored the total.  Their next stop was a hardware store for a 
stand for the Christmas tree.  

He took her to a fine restaurant.  Back home, they took turns 
in the bathroom.  He noted her ratty bathrobe as an addition to 
his Christmas list.  She seemed reluctant to shed it, though.  

"Would you really rather sleep in the guest room, or even have 
me sleep there instead?"  

"No.  I'm being silly."  She started to remove the robe, but 
he removed it for her.  She had considered packing a warm 
nightgown but decided that it wouldn't get much use.  The slow 
removal of the robe bared her completely.  He kissed her mouth as 
he unbelted the robe and kissed each breast as it came into view. 
He hung his robe after hers, and returned to bed as naked as she 
was.  

The kiss was long and languorous.  Then he kissed down to her 
breasts and enjoyed them for minutes.  "Are you really mine?" he 
asked.  She nodded, already tensing.  He kissed down over her 
belly to the fur.  He parted her legs and kissed the insides of 
her thighs.  

She knew what was coming, dreaded it, longed for it.  He 
kissed her closed labia.  Then he licked them open.  Her legs 
tried to come together without any conscious thought on her part, 
but his shoulders were in the way.  He kept licking until the 
inner lips parted.  She shivered but said no word.  

The aroma and then the taste nearly maddened him.  He brought 
himself under control and licked her cleft until she tensed. Then 
he licked and sucked her clitoris as she shuddered through her 
orgasm.  As soon as it was over, he pulled himself up beside her 
in the bed.  He pulled the covers over them and lay with his arm 
over her while she recovered.  

She tensed under his mouth until her muscles began to hurt.  
Then she tensed again, and shook, and went away into herself.  
When she returned, it was to languor and his cuddling.  "Sweet 
Tabitha, glorious Tabitha," she heard.  

She felt feverish, she felt ecstatic, she felt loved, she felt 
curious.  "What were you doing to me down there?"  

"Worshiping you."  His voice was serious, not his teasing 
tone.  

"I should be worshiping *you*."  She did not mean an oral 
reciprocation.  Before she began worrying that he would take it 
that way, he kissed her deeply.  

"Ready to turn your back?" he asked.  Not quite ready, she 
turned anyway.  He hugged her in that position.  "I love you," 
she heard.  "Now remember that you are not to be brave."  

He waited for her nod.  She was so lovely that he sometimes 
feared he had dreamed her.  "All right," he continued, "I'm going 
to put some grease on myself so this will go more easily."  He 
rested the cold tube under his arm while he fit himself against 
her opening.  Then he greased his cockhead and fit himself 
against her again.  The extra lubrication helped as he eased 
himself just within.  "Now move back."  She did until he felt 
himself further inside than the afternoon.  "Be careful not to 
hurt yourself."  

She felt less friction this time, and could press back until 
she could feel the stretching.  Obedient, she stopped before 
there was any pain.  She felt occupied, however.  Part, if only 
the tiniest part, of her contained the tiniest part of him.  

He started petting her arm and speaking softly.  "We'll get 
the tree tomorrow.  We'll look at the decorations before then and 
you tell me what is missing.  The only limits are that the tree 
has to fit in my trunk and in the elevator."  Then after a pause: 
"What was especially good about Christmas when you were a girl?"  

She told about decorating the tree, about the year she got a 
bicycle, about the puppy that wasn't really a surprise -- she got 
to pick him out -- but was a delight beyond all the purchases 
since.  She wiggled during one part of that story and widened 
herself around him.  Puppies, however, become old dogs; and old 
dogs die.  She pulled away as she sobbed.  "It's years ago.  I 
shouldn't."  

"Yes you should, beloved.  It is right to mourn a friend.  
And, right or wrong, you can bring your emotions to this bed. 
Whenever you feel like crying, you can cry in my arms.  I'm not 
going to tell you that some tears are permissible and some are 
not."  She turned and burrowed into his arms.  Her tears trickled 
down onto his shoulder.  

"I'm messing up your design."  

"That was your second gift.  You gave me time to be gentle.  
That is my only design.  You may be tight, but the schedule 
isn't."  

She reached down and touched his cock, a gesture that made his 
heart turn over in his chest while it almost got her sprinkled 
again.  "This doesn't seem to agree."  

"That one has no sense of future pleasures.  I don't think 
with my cock.  He will enjoy himself ten-fold in time, but it's 
in our time."  She let go, which he thought wise if regrettable.  
After a while, she turned back around and nestled into his arms.  
They each pretended the other was asleep.  Soon, it was true.  


Continued in Part 2
Wrapped Attention 
anon584c@nyx.net
Uther Pendragon 
1996/12/22 
1997/12/18 
1998/11/12
2000/12/20
2001/12/24
2002/12/11

                              - = - 

This story carries the codes: (MF rom 1st) 
The code, "MF," means that intercourse occurs between an adult 
          male and an adult female.

For other codes, and how they can help you find the stories you 
want, see:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/code/scfr.htm
The Story-Code FAQ for readers.


For another story in which the man rejoices in his partner's
response:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/story/longest.htm
"The Longest Minute" 

This story is indexed in the subdirectory: 
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/mf.htm
Mf: Older Men and Younger Women 

The directory to all my stories can be found at:
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.
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