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Message-ID: <42118asstr$1051373403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Philip Harris" <pcmail@boxfrog.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Small Surrender {MF,rom}
Date: Sat, 26 Apr 2003 12:10:03 -0400
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A Small Surrender {MF,rom}
by Philip Harris 

"No Ted, I couldn't."  Laura liked the ring very much.  It was silver,
with little dolphins swimming around it in a circle.  It fit this day
so perfectly: the early-summer sunshine, the ocean-and-old-wood
fragrance of the pier.  "Kevin would be suspicious," she offered at
last, turning away from the jewelry store window. 

"You can tell Kevin that you bought it yourself," Ted suggested.  "It
would look so pretty on your finger Laura.  I like the idea of you
wearing it.  If we don't work things out--if you decide to stay with
Kevin--then it will be something secret that you can keep to always
remind you of me.  I'd like that." 

Laura was drawn to the ring, and it really would have looked pretty on
her hand. 

"Listen Laura," Ted persisted, "Which is the finger that you use the
most on yourself?" 

"Ted!" Laura cried in genuine anger, punching his arm. 

"No seriously!  Is it this one, or this one?"  He took her hand and
held each of her fingers, kissing each fingertip.  Laura pushed
him away.  "I want to know Laura, because that's the finger I want you
to wear my ring on.  Then I can phone you in the evenings when you're
alone and ask you if you've 'used your ring' for me that night." 

"Ted," Laura answered him in a angry voice, "you always talk so dirty
to me when we're alone.  You make me uncomfortable."  Ted did make
Laura feel uncomfortable with his persistent sexual pursuit, but she
secretly liked very much the way he always made her feel desired. 

"Besides, I don't do that," she lied. 

"Oh, but Laura, I want you to!"  Ted grabbed her by her elbows now,
pulling her very close, and speaking quietly in her ear.  "When you
get up in the mornings, when you take your shower, I want you to
finger Kevin out of you, and then climax yourself wildly for me." 

"Stop it Ted, you really go too far!"  Laura spoke louder, more
angrily, and pulled away from his grasp.  And then after a pause
she said, "And you don't really know anything about such
things . . . It takes three fingers." 

"I mean which finger do you use most on your clit?  I want you to wear
my ring on your clit finger." 

"Stop that talk Ted!" 

Laura didn't want anyone else on the street to hear what Ted had been
saying to her.  The ring in the window was very pretty though, and she
secretly did want it.  She paused to look at it for a moment longer,
thinking of herself wearing it in the shower and doing Ted's wicked
suggestion.  Ugh! 

Oh why couldn't he just want to be friends with her, Laura asked
herself before turning and walking away. 

Their conversation turned to more mundane matters.  Provincetown was
quaint and pretty, with the promise of coming summer.  High-priced
tourist shops lined the waterfront streets, and happy couples walked
hand in hand everywhere. 

Ted took Laura's hand, and she didn't refuse him.  He had stolen a day
from work, suggesting this trip to her last night when they talked on
the telephone.  They talked on the phone almost every evening.  Laura
had stolen the day too, lying and calling in sick. 

Kevin would never take a day off like this, she thought sadly.  He
loved his work too much, travelling and working long hours every day,
and many weekends too. 

Laura picked out a café, and she and Ted sat at a tipsy, wrought-iron
table beneath a big green umbrella.  Whenever the wind gusted, the
table rocked on the flagstones.  Ted was good company, when he wasn't
talking of doing filthy things to her.  Laura genuinely enjoyed being
with him.  She looked about at couples talking together, and she
sighed inside that Kevin never spent time with her like this. 

Ted would give all his time to Laura, if she wanted it.  Of course he
wanted sex in return.  He told her that constantly.  He wanted her
body. 

"Why are you always trying to have sex with me?" she asked Ted
suddenly. 

"Because I like big breasts," he answered simply. 

"Plenty of other girls have big boobs," Laura said. 

"Yours are the boobs I want Laura." 

"You've never even seen mine," she said. 

"I know what they feel like," he answered meaningfully. 

It's true that Ted's hands knew their way around inside of Laura's
clothes.  On the boat ride down from Boston, Laura's legs had been
cold in her short pants, and Ted had brought her a blanket from the
ship's on-deck supply.  He'd sat beside her and covered both their
laps with the blanket.  He'd held her hand underneath the blanket,
speaking pleasantly to her about the beauty of the sea around them. 

It wasn't long before Laura felt his hand stray, as she had known it
would.  He caressed inside her thigh.  Ted was very good at caressing!
She felt his fingers unbutton her shorts, and then felt his hand slide
down into them, and then start to slide into her underwear too. 

"No," Laura had said quietly, and Ted's fingers retreated from her
underwear, but stayed within her pants.  Slowly, patiently he worked
his fingers downward again, outside of her underwear, but invading her
more; pausing but not retreating at Laura's further "no's." 

Eventually he touched her.  Laura spread her legs apart a little bit
in slight concession, immediately feeling very guilty.  She'd let him
get this far before though, touching her through her underwear.  She
promised herself that she'd never let him go farther. 

She never intended to let him touch her at all, yet for some reason she
found that she just couldn't refuse him.  She often argued with him, but
Ted was good at getting his hands into her clothes anyway. 

Laura had to admit to herself that she was partly to blame, for
encouraging him.  She only wanted to be friends with Ted, but how
could they just be friends when she let him do this to her? 

"No Ted," she'd told him on the boat when his fingertips started trying
to slip aside her underwear thong.  The he tried coaxing her through
her underwear. 

"No, I'll make too much noise," she said  People were everywhere on the
boat; walking past them, leaning over the railing in front of them,
even sitting on the same long bench with them. 

"We'll be kissing, Laura," he said, not stopping his fingertip
persuasion, "so you won't make any noise." 

"No, please Ted," she told him quietly, not wanting anyone to
overhear.  "Please don't Ted--please!"  Laura didn't try moving
herself or pushing Ted away from her.  She felt certain he would
obey her voice. 

Ted persisted for another minute, knowing Laura well enough to persist,
but in the end he stopped, as she'd asked him to. 

Laura stopped him in time, but not before reacting wetly, and she was
left desperately wanting to be finished.  She had to get up and
stroll around the deck to walk off the sensation. 

Then she'd had to act as if she were very angry with Ted, knowing
that otherwise he could make another assault while she was still
aroused and vulnerable.  Her pretended anger kept him at bay until
the ferryboat boat docked in Provincetown. 

Ted was always assaulting her, but Laura keep seeing him in
secret whenever Kevin was away. 

"You're not married to Kevin, you just live with him," Ted said,
startling Laura from her reverie at the café.  His words seemed as if
he were reading her mind. 

"I just want to be friends with you Ted," she said, not wanting to
repeat old arguments. 

Laura felt ashamed at enduring Ted's constant sex assults.  She felt
even more ashamed that Ted knew how effective his assaults were on
her.  Whenever Laura was out with Ted she always wore a heavy
sweatshirt to conceal her betraying nipples from the public, and to
conceal his frequently-groping hands. 

After lunch at the café, they visited a few art galleries. Ted told
Laura clever little wisecracks that he made up about each of the
artists.  He kept her laughing until her sides ached.  More than one
gallery owner frowned at them. 

"Are you shopping today, or just looking?" a snippety gallery owner
asked them. 

"I want a nude painted of my wife," Ted invented quickly, indicating
Laura with a sweep of one hand.  "Her, nude, riding akimbo on a leaping
dolphin.  Can you do it right here while we wait?" 

Ted said it with perfect seriousness. 

"I . . . um.  You might be able to arrange a sitting with a local
artist," the gallery owner said, sure that he was being joked with,
but still trying to be polite. 

"Oh we can't wait," Ted snipped.  Taking Laura's hand he hurried her
out the door, saying, "Come dear, let's go get Polaroids done." 

Laura laughed for ten minutes, as they walked down the street, trading
suggestions of wise-cracks they could have added.  Laura loved Ted's
free spirit.  He really was a wonderful companion when he kept his
hands to himself.  If it weren't that she was living with Kevin . . . . 

Another hour of window-shopping took them gradually away from the
tourist crowds, and eventually they found a private spot together
near a seawall, where they leaned against the railing and looked
outward at the ocean surf.  Ted stood behind Laura, hugging her
about the waist, holding her body comfortably close against his.
Laura confessed to herself that when Ted held her like this it felt
as if she should be with him instead of with Kevin. 

Ted's hands started near her hips, but after a few minutes they
drifted up, beneath her sweatshirt, taking her breasts from
underneath.  Laura was expecting this.  She pushed his arms down
firmly.  Almost immediately his fingers started exploring her
waistband, until an "ah" of warning from Laura made his hands again
retreat. 

A few moments later he reached up beneath her sweatshirt again,
crisscrossing his arms around her ribcage and cupping her breasts,
this time sliding her bra cups upward and clasping her bare breasts in
his hands, a move he had perfected through practice on her.  He held
her body tightly against his. 

Laura left his hands where they were.  This was a familiar game for
them.  She knew that she had to give into Ted sometimes, and this
was the most that she ever permitted him.  Now, and with the morning's
finger-teasing, Ted had explored the absolute boundaries of his
intimacy with her.  The bare flesh of her breasts and a little of her
wetness through her underware was all that she ever gave in to him.
Laura folded her hands about her waist, drawing her elbows to her sides
to help conceal Ted's actions from chance eyes. 

Ted's face rested against Laura's as they both gazed seaward.  He
kissed her cheek; she'd never let him kiss her lips.  Beneath her
sweatshirt his hands squeezed her breasts in slow pulses.  She could
feel his erection growing as he pressed it to her through their
clothes. 

Laura had known for the whole day that this would come.  A date with
Ted always involved breast groping eventually.  She knew that it was
part of his incessant effort to arouse her beyond her control.  This
was their familiar contest for her body. 

For a moment Ted's persuasion seemed irresistible.  He was now
pressing his erection against her in rhythm with his breast squeezing,
a publicly subtle but intimately very arousing imitation of fucking.
Momentarily he was winning; Laura wanted desperately to surrender,
right there on the cold, wet sand at the foot of the seawall.  What
would be the harm in giving into him just this once, she wondered? 

"Stop it Ted," she said, after a minute, bringing her arms down and
away from her sides, a signal that his privilege was over for now.
Ted had lost the contest again. 

Laura was afraid that his overtures were becoming too obvious.  Beneath
her sweatshirt, Ted replaced her breasts within her bra cups neatly, again
something well practiced.  Laura wondered if Ted guessed that she wore
a bra conveniently easy for this, ever since his clumsy first assault. 

They walked on, past the end of the shops, to a shore lane of small
cottages with fresh blooming gardens, and trees proudly wearing new
green leaves.  Ted stopped before a pretty inn, with a broad white
swing on the porch, and a vacancy sign. 

"That will be our room," Ted said, pointing to a small second-floor
window with lacy white curtains and red shutters, "if we stay
tonight."  Laura's face was hard, but inside she felt that she'd never
heard a more romantic proposition. 

Ted had known that Kevin would be away in Cincinnati all week.  In her
small bag Laura had the toothbrush and other things that Ted had asked
her to bring, even though she'd said that she wouldn't.  Let's just go
down to Provincetown for the day, Ted had urged her, but bring your
overnight things. 

Don't bring any birth control, he'd said.  Ted knew that Laura wanted
a baby, and that Kevin would never agree to one.  That's why she and
Kevin hadn't married yet.  Ted had promised Laura as many children as
she wanted, under any conditions she cared to name. 

"I have to be back at work tomorrow Ted," Laura answered after a pause,
and then she turned and started walking back toward the ferry dock. 

They had wandered far from the waterfront, and had to walk quickly now
to reach the pier in time to take the last boat back to Boston.  They
sat on the same ferryboat bench that they'd chosen for the morning
voyage. 

Once out in the harbor, the late-day wind became chilly.  Laura felt
sad for Ted.  He wanted her so much and was so nice to her.  She knew
that he was in love with her.  He wanted her body, but he also really
loved her.  Laura felt sorry that she'd refused the dolphin ring, that
she hadn't agreed to stay for the night--and that she was probably
never going to. 

The evening was becoming dark.  Was that the inn that they had paused
before, there, going out of view on the shore?  The small, second-floor
window was still dark; the room was still unoccupied. 

Laura noticed that there weren't as many people on the boat for this
homeward trip, and few of them were outside on the decks.  After a
while other passengers left the deck, retreating into the light and
warmth of the lounge, until only one other couple remained outside
near Ted and Laura. 

As soon as that last couple left the deck, Laura felt Ted's arm lower,
his hand leaving her shoulder and taking a cupping grab around her
right breast, through her sweatshirt.  She leaned back against his arm,
and his other hand cupped her left breast.  Laura made no objections,
although she knew that he would soon reach beneath her bra again.
Would it really be so bad to let his fingers inside her underware? 

"Ted," Laura said, not turning her head to look at him, "go get us a
blanket to cover our laps." 

 --- 

The author appreciates comments, at pcmail@boxfrog.com 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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