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Message-ID: <39820asstr$1039781403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: anon584c@nyx.net (Uther Pendragon)
Reply-To: anon584c@nyx.net
Subject: {ASSM} rp "Wrapped Attention 3" {Pendragon} (MF rom 1st) [3/3]
Date: Fri, 13 Dec 2002 07:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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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, 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 Three: Wednesday 

He awoke the next morning with Tabitha asleep on his arm and 
his arm asleep under her neck.  He spent ten minutes just 
appreciating his luck and her beauty before various needs drove 
him out into the cold.  A shaven Alex slipped back under the 
covers and next to her.  

She awoke to find him staring at her.  "You could have woken 
me up," she said.  "I don't want to miss a minute with you.  I 
missed you all the time yesterday."  

He remembered and laughed.  "In the car, I said that I would 
miss you this vacation.  You didn't say that you would miss me.  
I'm missing you less than I expected."  

"Were you hurt?"  

"A tiny bit.  Your surprise made up for it a million times 
over. Kiss me and I'll forgive you."  She did, then got up and 
grabbed her robe.  When she got back he asked, "Will you forgive 
me for going to the office if I kiss you?"  This was a longer and 
sweeter kiss.  Then he had to kiss his favorite breasts good 
morning.  

This was the first of five mornings ahead of them without 
office deadlines.  Both of them were determined to make it 
special.  

He returned to her mouth for a long kiss with tongues playing 
tag.  Half way through this, he clasped her mound in his hand. As 
he trailed kisses down to her far breast, he parted her lower 
lips with one finger.  He spread the dew upward in the slit 
before it was time to change breasts.  With the second sweet 
nipple in his mouth, he first rubbed the area around her 
clitoris, then brushed over it lightly.  When she stiffened under 
this treatment he kissed a path down to her curls.  

She brought love to their kiss and waited for him to heat it 
to passion.  Soon, her expectations were satisfied.  His lips and 
his tongue stirred her while his hand inflamed her.  She knew his 
mouth's destination when it began its journey down from her 
breast.  This time her eagerness for his arrival was unmixed with 
dread.  The kisses on her thighs tickled her as they aroused her. 
As he parted her labia with his fingers, his breath warmed and 
excited them.  She was stirred before his tongue ever touched 
her.  When it did, it soon brought ecstasy.  Wave after wave 
swept through her as he continued his caresses until she 
collapsed.  

He loved Tabitha.  He loved her beauty, he loved her 
thoughtfulness, he loved her cleverness.  He loved her intimate 
odor and taste.  But he loved her responsiveness most.  Her 
climax in his arms, evoked by his mouth, was as erotic an 
experience for him as any climax of his own had ever been.  He 
lay for a moment with his head on her lax thigh, then he moved 
beside her to snuggle against her as she recovered.  

Their silence held more love than she could express, but she 
tried:  "I love what you do with me.  I thought that you had made 
me come alive when we talked.  I wasn't alive before I was in 
this bed."  

"I love how you respond to me," he answered.  "You were always 
alive.  I saw it before I knew your name.  'That girl is alive,' 
I told myself, 'the rest of us here are zombies.'  You are more 
alive when sleeping than most women are in orgasm.  That's what I 
was watching.  A little breath, a quiver of an eyelash, the 
essence of vitality."  

"Only around you," she answered.  And, after a pause, 
"Speaking of around you ..."  

He laughed and made the preparations.  Her general relaxation 
was communicating itself to her most critical area.  Without 
increasing the pressure, he felt himself slide infinitesimally 
further in.  That sliding, unfortunately, was taking him nearer 
the edge.  

It must have had some effect on Tabitha, as well, for she 
began moving from side to side.  The results at their juncture 
was twofold.  He entered still further, and he reached the brink 
of orgasm.  He pulled back with the last of his volition.  
Turning on his back, he said, "Come lie on my shoulder."  Then, 
"Please don't, Sweetheart.  Keep your arms well above my waist."  
They spent a little time in that position before he relaxed.  Her 
breasts pressed into his side didn't help, but he couldn't reject 
that.  Finally, when she was almost asleep again, he said, "Good 
morning, love.  And does my lady care to join me in a shower?"  

She found the intimacy of being washed by him disturbing.  Her 
own reaction puzzled her considering that he had explored her 
most intimate areas with hand and mouth and penis.  Washing him 
was exciting in a different way.  "I think that area is clean," 
he said.  "And continuing to wash it will have unanticipated 
consequences."  

"What if I want those consequences?" she asked.  He merely 
braced himself against the wall above her head.  He arched above 
her, sheltering her without touching her.  She dropped the 
washcloth and brought her soapy hand to his groin.  His testes 
seemed to shrink away from her attention.  His penis was warm and 
responsive and smooth in her hand.  Then it seemed to get larger. 
Then he pushed his groin forward, and the penis throbbed in her 
grip.  After the first spurt hit her, she moved his organ to the 
side.  She felt remarkably powerful directing this dynamic 
response of this dynamic man wherever she wanted.  

As the water pulsed on his back, his essence pulsed out 
through her gentle grasp.  Merely remaining standing after that 
took all his effort.  When Tabitha finally removed her hand, he 
turned immediately and rinsed the area thoroughly.  He wiped 
himself quickly with a towel while she rinsed.  Then he got a 
bath sheet to wrap around his beloved.  She held it around her 
while he dried her face, and then kissed it.  That precedent 
established, he treated each section of her sweet body the same 
way.  He bared it, patted it dry, and then kissed it.  

Warm but damp, they rushed through the chilly bedroom and 
dived into bed.  The bed felt chilly, too, so they cuddled skin 
to skin as they waited for the sheets to warm.  Their breath 
mixed as their tongues played. 

Later, he pressed her back as he kissed every inch he could 
reach, saving the best for last.  The clean, warm, smell of her 
newly-washed curls just preceded the odor from her center.  None 
of the sweet, clever, things she had said to him was so welcome a 
message as the one of unmistakable desire which that odor 
conveyed.  His desire responded to hers.  He could not resist 
following the sniff with a taste.  Soon he was lapping her cleft 
and kissing its top.  

Her mind, already ravished by his response and his cherishing 
care, was ahead of her body for once.  Every caress, every hug, 
every lick, was a welcome confirmation of her mental arousal. 
Finally, he licked and sucked her clitoris until she spasmed. 
Then she was limp satiation, and he was warm comfort.  It was 
twenty minutes before she asked "Do you want me in the same 
position again?"  

This time the glans almost fit within her.  They lay in 
silence for ten minutes.  He petted her arm during that time and 
thought of the joys she had brought him the previous day.  

Her thoughts were bittersweet.  She knew that he would not let 
her stay with him forever; she would, she assumed, marry another. 
Someday she would lie with a husband upon the marriage bed while 
he told her that she was about to be hurt; but that was fine, the 
first time always hurt.  

When he asked her to push back again, she was tempted to shove 
hard and be done with it.  Instead, she pressed herself against 
him very gently and felt the slippery presence enter still more. 
Tabitha could have lain there in his arms forever.  They had 
things to do today, however, and she was determined to make him a 
good breakfast, well, brunch.  

Her thoughts continued in the kitchen.  She knew that he would 
never consider her as a wife.  Even if he had not been gun-shy 
from his first marriage, she was too jejune to be an effective 
corporate wife.  She wished he wouldn't resist her *playing* 
housewife, however.  She knew the difference between fantasy and 
reality.  The question was how she would ever settle for a normal 
reality after experiencing the fantasy with this extraordinary 
man.  

He dressed slowly, leaving the kitchen to her as her domain.  
He wished, however, that she would stop these flirtatious offers 
of her housewifely skills.  He had managed to resist ripping her 
open when she offered him the opportunity, but that time of 
temptation was short-range.  He wondered how long he could resist 
proposing marriage.  He wondered if she saw how much such a 
marriage would devastate her life.  

At thirty-nine, he had something to offer a nineteen year old. 
Not as much as her liveliness and beauty offered him, but he 
could plausibly tell himself that the gentleness, experience, and 
luxury that he offered were superior to what boys her age would 
give her.  But if his forties compared favorably to his anonymous 
competitor's twenties, that competitor would be in his forties 
when Alex was in his sixties.  "Let me love her and leave her," 
he thought, "because only leaving her will express any love for 
her."  More realistically, he expected her to outgrow him as she 
was outgrowing her parents.  

Over brunch, they laid out the next two days.  "Do you want a 
stocking?" he asked.  

"Not this year.  I think I'm claiming to be an adult."  She 
would have had one at home, of course; at home she would always 
be a child.  

"How about one present tonight, and the rest on Christmas 
morning?"  He knew that those rules changed from family to 
family.  The gifts celebrated Twelfth Night for that matter.  

"If you want."  There weren't going to be that many presents 
for her.  He had a fair number from others.  They had checked her 
dorm, and there were two packages waiting for her.  

They stood in a sea of small-fry to look at the mechanical 
displays in the store windows.  Soon the entranced children on 
their side of the window were more entertaining then the 
repetitive motions on the other.  After a quiet lunch, they drove 
up to her dorm to get her Christmas packages.  There was a 
message about a phone call in her slot.  

She called collect.  "You can call from my place," said Alex. 
"You don't have to call collect."  

"I have to call collect," she replied.  "They're mean, not 
stupid."  

"Hello, mother.  Merry Christmas."  

"Tabitha?  We were worried about you."  

"That's nice."  

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?"  

"I'm perfectly sure, mother.  You should have worried on 
Thanksgiving.  Did you know what you were doing then?  It wasn't 
hard to figure out."  

"Forget that.  We just wanted to know that you were safe.  And 
merry Christmas to you.  Did you get the package?"  

"Two packages."  

"Well, one is from Dobie.  I just did the outer wrapping."  

"Is he there?"  

"Want to speak to him?"  Tabitha could hear a muffled shout.  

"Dobie?" Tabitha said.  There was no answer.  

"Sis?" Dobie said a minute later.  He'd been running.  

"Thanks for the package.  I haven't opened it yet, so I can't 
be specific.  Did you guys get mine okay?"  

"They're under the tree, and I got a card from that Alex guy."  

"You did?  He didn't tell me."  

"Funny card.  Remember the argument about the metric system?  
He kept his mouth shut, but he remembered it.  Dad says that you 
stayed away to spend the time with him.  I dunno.  I think I 
would have blown up at the folks *after* Christmas."  

"You're a sweet brother, but mercenary as heck."  

"You're a sweet sister, especially when you're away long 
enough for us to forget our grudges."  

She laughed.  Dobie was so dependably unsentimental.  "Merry 
Christmas to the folks, and to you to.  Bye."  

"Bye."  And that got around the problem of actually speaking 
to her father.  

"You sent a Christmas card to my brother?"  She asked.  

"A funny one.  Twelve days of Christmas done in ten, under the 
metric system.  'On the third day of Christmas, my sysop gave to 
me -- three kilojoules, two French curves, and a partial with 
respect to t.'  You know."  She didn't know, but Dobie had 
appreciated it.  The call hadn't been as bad as she had expected. 
With it behind her and Alex beside her, she felt light hearted, 
as if it were really Christmas.  

Dinner was at a place new to her.  He tried to vary between 
introducing her to new locations and repeating an environment in 
which they had enjoyed themselves.  "This is where we ate on 
Christmas Eve," sounded like a possible favorite.  

She enjoyed the food greatly.  She knew that he made subtle 
distinctions, but "much better than dorm food" seemed to cover 
every place he had taken her.  

When they were home, they kissed and he slowly removed her 
clothes.  They went through the bra ritual.  Then he stopped and 
laughed.  "I think that we should change the rules," he said.  

"You can take off my panties from now on."  

"Thank you, darling."  He knelt to do so.  The sight of her 
mound and the smell of her readiness almost pushed him over the 
edge. He kissed the mound lightly once.  Then he let her find her 
own way to bed while he stripped as fast as he could.  

Once in bed, they shared a long kiss.  Still driven, wanted to 
kiss her center right then.  He asked her, "Must I make slow 
preparations this time?"  

The answer was clear to her.  She had given him her body to 
enter when he wished.  She was eager for his penetration, 
although she also mourned the long build-up that he had begun and 
was terminating in the middle.  It was his decision; it always 
had been.  "No, darling, do what you wish."  He climbed between 
her legs, but it was his mouth which touched her there.  Her 
confusion held back her response for a minute, but that response 
overwhelmed her when it came.  The release was a series of long 
waves which took her higher and higher.  It suddenly crashed 
taking her with it.  

"You are a love.  I'll be back in a minute."  She missed him, 
but wasn't tempted to move.  When he returned, he picked her up 
and carried her into the bathroom.  The tub was filling with 
water, but the bubbles had nearly reached the brim.  He dropped 
her feet into the water before lowering the rest of her more 
gently. "Take your time," he said.  "Such a lovely woman deserves 
all the luxury I can provide."  

The bubble bath *was* luxury.  She soaked in the water, 
and the luxury, and the love of the man who had provided it.  She 
took some time to stretch herself to accommodate him a little 
more.  It was easier this time.  

She was embarrassed when he came back, although her hand was 
hidden by the bubbles.  "I have to have someone else in the 
apartment for twenty or thirty minutes," he said.  "Could you 
stay in here until I come back?"  She nodded rather unhappily. 
These five days were supposed to be *their* time.  

A minute later, he was punching for the elevator.  The night 
man lent him a cart and helped him load it.  They took the cart-
load of packages up the freight elevator.  He made sure that she 
was hidden away before they piled the packages in the guest room.  
He stripped one of the guest twin beds, and the night man helped 
him flip the mattress over on to the other bed.  They carried the 
springs out into the living room and settled them with the head 
just beyond the tree's longest branches.  The mattress, and then 
the still-made mattress from the other bed followed.  He was as 
anxious to be rid of the night man as he had been anxious for his 
help.  A twenty covered both requirements.  

He smoothed the bedclothes and rolled the blanket and top 
sheet together against the wall.  He put a few, select, packages 
under the tree.  He turned on the tree lights and turned off the 
others.  He knocked on the bathroom door in his own robe.  

"I'm still in the tub," she answered.  

"Towel service."  He entered with a bath sheet covering the 
package.  She climbed out of the tub to be wrapped in terry cloth 
and in his arms.  He kissed her.  

She had found the bubble bath less relaxing after he spoke.  
It was one thing to soak as long as one wished, it was quite 
another to have to stay in the tub.  He was up to something.  He 
did not have a business appointment after eight on Christmas Eve.  
If he had, the tree would cause as much talk as her presence.  
The idea of bathing one doorway away from a strange man was 
disturbing on its own.  

She was less ready for him to dry her off than she had been 
the last time.  The kiss, however, worked its magic.  By the time 
she had been patted dry and kissed everywhere, she was ready for 
this man again, whatever chicanery he had planned.  Her present 
to be opened on Christmas Eve was a peignoir, beautiful, if 
utterly impractical.  She thought it was fair, Alex could dress 
her to be seen only by Alex.  She put it on.  

"Now, darling," Alex said, "you've given me three gifts this 
Christmas.  Even though I've used up a lots of the second gift, 
I'd like to open the first one on Christmas Eve.  Do I have your 
permission."  

"Certainly."  She counted it a little overdue, although she 
had enjoyed his solicitude.  For that matter, she'd enjoyed his 
preparations.  He led her out of the bath.  She turned toward the 
bedroom, but he led her on.  The living room was lit only by the 
tree; even the window curtains were drawn.  The bed caught her 
attention.  "Are you going to open your present under the tree?" 
She was laughing.  

"With your permission."  

"You already have my permission.  You are a horrible 
romantic."  

"Only when I'm thinking about you.  Nobody at the office would 
recognize me from your description."  

He stopped her at the foot of the bed for a long, wet kiss.  
Her desire increased as his tongue played with hers and his hands 
kneaded her hips.  When she drew him into a tight hug, she felt 
his stiff organ against her side.  She knew that he had wanted 
her for these four days as completely as she now wanted him.  

During the kiss, he felt her stiffness ease into a sweet sag 
against him.  Slowly, he unbuttoned her first button before 
kissing her all around the neck and collar bone.  He ended at the 
spot on the back of her neck which always made her shiver.  When 
he felt that reaction he returned to her front to hug her.  

More buttons followed and more kisses.  She felt it very 
difficult to support her own weight.  Then his kisses on her left 
breast reached the peak.  The thrill of his kiss straightened 
her.  The following licks tensed her again, but her knees weren't 
at all steady.  He helped her sit down on the very edge of the 
bed.  For a moment, she was looking at the bulge in his robe. 
Then he knelt.  

He returned to her breast for a moment.  He loved seeing the 
nipple straighten and quiver under his attention.  Then he went 
lower on her torso, unbuttoning as he went.  She eased back in 
the bed to give him access.  When he reached her navel, she was 
lying flat with her legs off the edge and spread around him.  He 
moved back up to the right breast and began again.  He kept 
unbuttoning until he ran out of buttons.  She was spread before 
him, protected only by the drape of the peignoir of maidenly 
white.  His path down from this breast was much faster.  He 
passed her navel on one side.  He brushed aside the cloth, and 
nothing at all protected her.  He kissed a path from the 
projection of her hip bone to the inside of her thigh.  He kissed 
her mons, then her outer lips and the tiniest edge of the inner 
ones peeking between.  

As he moved down her body brushing the cloth aside, she missed 
the shelter of him above her more than the frail protection of 
the peignoir.  She watched his head recede as she felt his kisses 
advance.  Then looking down was too hard and she stared up at the 
spectral tree.  His kisses had been a sweet torture ever since he 
left her breast.  The intensity of the torture increased when he 
reached her labia.  She stared up into the tree as the slow licks 
intensified her need.  Each time one of the lights blinked, she 
felt another thrill shoot through her.  But each time, she also 
felt herself wind tighter.  Then the lights all flew away as her 
tension exploded into orgasm.  

Lost in her scent and taste for a minute, he pulled himself 
together and started a pattern of licks and sucks to tease her to 
a climax.  He soon succeeded and watched her undulate in the 
weird light while he continued sucking.  

She lay on the bed as limp as the blanket beside her.  The 
lights were all back on the tree and blinking at random.  Alex 
was kneeling above her and kissing the valley between her 
breasts.  

He adjusted his position when she lay still, getting a throw 
pillow under his knees.  He anointed his cock once more with KY, 
although she seemed wet enough.  Positioned just right, he backed 
up and kissed her breasts until she spoke.  

"Alex?" he heard.  

"Right here, love."  He returned to her entrance and spread 
her lips with his fingers.  

"You didn't...."  He lifted the top of the entry as he slipped 
the merest tip inside.  

"I am now."  He pressed forward until his cockhead seemed 
enclosed.  

"Thank you."  The pleasure was all his as her tight walls 
enclosed him.  He pressed forward and felt the walls expand 
around his glans.  The tightness enraptured but frightened him; 
could she be this tight and not feel pain?  

She felt the intrusion, but there was no pain at all.  This 
inching forward was starting to excite her; she was being filled 
where she had never known she was empty, rubbed in places where 
she had never been rubbed before.  The mental arousal was almost 
as great; she was becoming a woman, possessing and possessed by 
the man she loved.  

Her slickness was his continuing reassurance; she could not be 
this wet and feel anything negative.  Her tightness was his 
continuing worry; she could not be stretched this much without 
some discomfort.  Her tight slickness was his erotic feast; the 
physical sensation of clasping friction was matched by the 
knowledge that he was opening his beloved to full sexual 
activity.  He paused in his entry to stroke her perfect breasts. 
The nipples were quivering in their rigidity.  He pressed his 
hips forward until he felt the warm friction resume.  

She was full of him, and he stroked her breasts.  Then he 
pressed forward and she was more full.  She saw his face looking 
strict in the blue light.  Then there was no more stretching.  
His eyes flicked up to meet hers.  They seemed to stream love at 
her. They were more than she could manage, and she glanced down. 
Staring at his groin was more embarrassing, although she could 
not see their junction.  

His eyes followed hers downward.  An inch of his shaft was 
visible between his hair and hers.  Her labia were stretched 
around his girth.  He kept watching as he pressed forward to bury 
himself within her.  His cockhead had passed the tightest clasp. 
He still felt that stricture on his shaft as the head was rubbed 
by a gentler touch.  Then he was fully in her, groin pressed to 
groin.  

She felt full.  She felt his hairy flesh press against her 
outer lips. As she looked up to see a smile break over his face, 
she heard him say, "I love you."  Then his mouth was on hers for 
a brief touch of tongues.  He moved out a little as he kissed her 
breasts.  She pressed his head to her for a moment, then dropped 
her hands to his shoulders as he began to move within.  

He struggled to maintain his gentleness as he stroked through 
that marvelous tightness.  He lost it when she started raising 
her hips up toward his in response.  He saw a shudder pass 
through her whole body just before her tunnel gripped him more 
tightly than ever.  The denial of four days, the love of four 
months, the want of four decades, all poured through him and 
gushed into her.  Her.  Her!  He was in his love, and he called 
her name as he pulsed.  Tab ... bee ... thuh!  Tab!  Bee!  Thuh! 
Then he collapsed.  

His slow strokes within her transformed her desire into 
sensual fire.  She wanted more, and raised herself into his 
thrusts to get it.  She stared up at the lights which were all 
blinking in unison and rushing toward her as wave after wave of 
relief shot through her.  Somewhere far above her, he called her 
name. Somewhere deep inside her, he throbbed.  

He finally dragged himself up and out of her.  The bowl of 
water holding the cloth was still a little warm.  He wiped first 
her and then himself.  "I love you," he said.  It was as true as 
it was inadequate.  First she, then he, moved up to normal 
positions in the bed.  They cuddled.  He switched off the tree 
and reached for the covers.  As he covered them both, she reached 
back for the most intimate contact.  

The tree and its lights were back in their places.  He was 
washing her in an extension of his care.  He put into words the 
love he had shown.  She gathered herself together to move to the 
head of the bed.  He joined her and adjusted the sheet.  She felt 
a little more of him seep out of her.  That was all right, a 
reminder of love.  When she took his organ in her hand, it 
stirred slightly.  She wondered how she could have ever thought 
of it as looking cruel.  Like the puppy, it was given her on 
Christmas Eve, it responded to her touch, and it loved her. That 
reminded her.  

"I love you, too," she said.  


The End 
Wrapped Attention 
anon584c@nyx.net
Uther Pendragon 
1996/12/22 
1997/12/18 
1998/11/12
2000/12/20
2001/12/24
2002/12/13

                              - = - 

This story carries the codes: (MF rom 1st) 
The code, "1st," means that first time intercourse for one of the 
          participants occurs in the story.

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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