Message-ID: <44138asstr$1062076203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20030827030611.71742.qmail@web20704.mail.yahoo.com> From: John Souvie <forjohnandsouvie@yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Tue, 26 Aug 2003 20:06:11 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} [wedding] new "Morning Has Broken 02" {Uther} (MF) [2/2] <*> Date: Thu, 28 Aug 2003 09:10:03 -0400 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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/44138> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman --------------------------------- Do you Yahoo!? Yahoo! SiteBuilder - Free, easy-to-use web site design software <1st attachment, "Morning Has Broken 02.txt" begin> Subject: new "Morning Has Broken 02" {Uther} (MF) [2/2] <*> 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, 2003, 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. # # # # # # Morning has Broken Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net Part 2: Continued from Part 1 and concluded. He held her hand again on the walk from the restaurant to the inn. "I like holding your hand," she told him after the first kiss up in their room. "I like holding yours, too. Even if it is mostly euphemistic." "Euphemistic?" "Well." He spun her around and pulled her back against him while he held a hand on each breast. "If we walked like this, you might not like the attention you got from passersby." She laughed. "To say nothing of stepping on your toes." He kissed her left ear and down the side of her neck. He started to unbutton her blouse. When it was loose, he held her belly. She stood straight when he let her go to take the blouse. He draped it over a chair back and unhooked her bra. Then he kissed her right shoulder and up the neck on that side. He held both breasts under the bra while he kissed her ear. She shivered. At a pull on her ribcage, she leaned back against him. She felt his erection pressing into her back while his fingers played with her nipples. After a minute, she felt him fumbling with her waistband at the front. His hand trailed around to her right side, tickling her belly as it went. Then he switched hands. This time he found the zipper of her jeans on her left side. He pulled it down. This pair of jeans was tight enough on her legs that unzipping them wasn't going to make them fall. She could have removed them easily enough, but the present position was too enjoyable. She did, though, push the waist down a bit, the panties along with the jeans. That let her feel his trousers against her rump. One of his hands left her breast and strayed lower. He ran his fingers through the hair on her mound and tickled the insides of her thighs. "This would be easier in bed," David said. "From this state," she answered, "you have to help." She was effectively hobbled. He walked around her and knelt to untie her shoes. When she stepped out of them, he helped pull her jeans and panties down. He held them while she stepped out. Before she could get to the bed, he held her rump with both hands and kissed her mound. When she was in bed, David put her jeans on a chair. Then he stripped and followed her. They had a nice kiss. His hands went no lower than her face. The chaste effect of that was rather spoiled by his erection pressing against her thigh. Then she remembered. "I have to make my preparations," she said. "I was thinking." This wasn't news. David was always thinking. "About?" "We're started on a new life together. How about trying an experiment?" Did he want to start a baby *now*? "What sort of an experiment?" she asked. "Well, we know you can have more than one orgasm in a single session. What we don't know is how many. Now, once I get my jollies, that's the end. I know that; you should have seen that. So...." "So?" Not that she couldn't see where this was headed. "So, we don't have any obligations in the morning. We don't really have any obligations in the afternoon. So, tonight, why don't we see how many orgasms you can reach...? Reach orally?" "You really want to do that?" What was in it for him? "Oh yes!" Well, he sounded like something was in it for him. "Let me make my preparations, anyway. Just in case." At the height of her excitement, she was as likely as not to want him in her, fertile or not. (Not that she was likely to be fertile right then.) David might resist. He'd spent long enough resisting, God alone knew. But still it sounded risky to her. "And then experiment?" "And then experiment." She could think of worse experiments than seeing how many orgasms she could reach. So she went into the bathroom to insert her diaphragm. While there, she cleaned off her makeup and did all the other night-time rituals. She took the nightgown in with her and debated whether to wear it. Considering she'd walked in here naked with David watching her, that would be a little silly. But she'd spent a lot of time selecting a sexy nightgown for her trousseau; not wearing it seemed a waste. When she came out in the nightgown, he went in. She could smell his aftershave when he came to bed. If he'd brought pajamas or robe, she hadn't seen them yet. He leaned over to kiss her and caressed her during the kiss. After a few minutes of kissing her and caressing her, though, he helped her take the nightgown off. When he left her lips, he kissed a trail down to her left breast. Soon, his hand was at her mound. When he got to her right breast, he stroked her outer lips, not parting them even when she spread her legs in silent invitation. He kissed a trail across her belly. He ended up kneeling sideways on the bed with his face down close to her belly button. Then, he had to change his position. He crawled into a position parallel to hers and then moved each of his knees between her legs. He kissed her nipples again, but then licked and kissed downward across her torso again. When he got to her mound, he kissed only briefly before skipping to her thighs. First, he licked upwards on her left thigh from its middle to the juncture. Then he repeated this on her right thigh. Before he actually touched her lips, she was clenching her fists to keep from grabbing his hair and pulling him where she needed him. He licked one lip, licked the other, finally just touched her clitoris with his tongue. A thrill shot through her. She stiffened. His mouth kept exciting her until she spasmed. Then his fingers entered her. She knew she was unable to feel arousal again. She was so sensitive there that the passage of his breath over her clitoris was nearly painful. Still, his fingers moved in and out, rubbed over the top of her tunnel. Then, impossibly but inexorably, she was aroused again. From some level which hadn't really been relaxation, she spiraled upward and upward. At the peak, when her body was rigid -- so rigid it hurt -- he licked her clitoris once more. Her feelings shot upward and she spasmed again. She spasmed and spasmed around his fingers and under his mouth, but he didn't relent. Finally, she grabbed his hair and pushed his head away. He withdrew his own fingers before she could force that. She curled up into a ball and panted. He lay beside her with his chest pressed into her back. She could feel his erection just touching her thigh. It was good she'd thought about taking care. She barely woke up that morning. She could hear him singing in the shower again, the same song as the day before. She had to go, had to go real bad. She grabbed the nightgown on the way. She sat on the toilet while he sang the second stanza. Once relieved of the pressure, she was sleepy again. She flushed and went back to bed in the scratchy nightgown. The next time she woke up, David was dressed. "What time is it?" she asked him. "Quarter to ten." She took her stuff into the bathroom to shower and put on her face. When she came back she was dressed. "Breakfast?" she asked. He offered her his arm. She drank two cups of coffee at breakfast, but still felt logy afterwards. "Beach?" he asked. "Okay, but let's take the sunblock." They did. She put it on David's back and he put it on her. The application felt more like a caress to her, probably looked more like a caress to the others around them, too. On the other hand, nobody knew them, and nobody seemed to be paying them the slightest attention. They stretched out on the towels, and she went back to sleep. "Want to go swimming now?" he asked when she woke up. What she really wanted was to go back to the room. Indeed, she might need to go back to the room. "Do they have ladies' rooms here?" "On the beach?" Why not on the beach? The Park District provided them all along the lakefront. "Let's go back to the inn." He went up to the room with her -- she hadn't carried her keycard -- but he was gone when she got out of the bathroom. She changed into blouse and slacks in the bathroom again. He came back a few minutes later with a paperback novel. "I figured that this would do for beach reading," he said. "Did I abandon you?" This was supposed to be a honeymoon, after all. "Not in the least. You were right there, and dressed quite revealingly. I ogled." "Still, I should have stayed awake." "Why? This is our honeymoon, but it's also your vacation. If you need to sleep, then sleep. It's just that sleeping on the beach might lead some people to ask themselves what you'd been doing in bed that you hadn't gotten enough sleep there." "Oh you!" David liked playing the dirty little boy. "Can't you keep your mind out of the gutter." "My mind was not on a gutter. You might call it a valley or a groove, but not a gutter." It was time to change the subject. "Do you want to go out to lunch?" "Sure. But are you ready for lunch yet?" Really, she wasn't. Breakfast had been recent, and she'd slept most of the time since. "I was thinking of exploring the town to find where we'd want to eat." "Fine. I should change." He changed right there in front of her. They were married; they had one room; she'd seen him naked plenty of times. Still, it showed her the difference between their standards of modesty. They walked for an hour through the town. By then, she'd worked up an appetite. They had found two places which appealed to both of them, but the Southern specialty place looked like its portions were more than she wanted right then. They went to the seafood one. They returned to the inn hand in hand, but something was preying on her mind. He kissed her when they got into their room. He must have felt her lack of response because he stepped back. "David," she said. "Yes?" "Your experiment." "Yes?" "I don't want to repeat it." He didn't say anything. She felt she had to go on. "It was delightful at the time. I don't want you to think that it wasn't." Actually, it had been agonizing at the time -- great pleasure, sure, but great tension, too. It was like running a marathon, and she wasn't in shape for marathons. "But I've felt wrung out all day." "All right. I already knew it wasn't the sort of thing we could do while you were at the beck and call of your parishioners. If you want to try again, let me know. Otherwise, we'll put it away." "I know you wanted to do this for me." "I wanted to do it. But my pleasure comes from seeing your pleasure. If your pleasure doesn't last into the next day, neither will mine." "I'm glad you understand." "Two is our limit?" Actually, she'd be just as happy with one as their limit. But he'd brought her to two climaxes in one session several times in their courtship. "Two is a special occasion." "Well, a honeymoon is a special occasion. But, somehow, I get the impression you don't want to go for two tonight." "How perceptive of you." "Why is it that any description of David Blake as 'perceptive' sounds sarcastic?" She laughed. He was perceptive sometimes, though. And sensitive sometimes, too. Those just weren't part of his image of himself, not part of the image he liked to project. 'Intelligent,' or 'silly,' now; those were major parts of his image. He was often silly and he *never* seemed to turn off that brain. Maybe she felt better for clearing the air. Maybe she'd finally had enough rest. The afternoon went quite pleasantly. They went back to the beach and actually into the water. "Race you," he said. "That point" (a place where a hill projected out into the water) "and back." "Race you? No way." "How much of a lead do you want? But back to here. Free style going, breast stroke coming back. Go out to where you think it would be fair. Then stand up, wave, and start off." She wasn't as bad a swimmer as he must think, unused to salt water or not. She took what she thought was a generous lead. She got a little closer to shore so she could stand up. Then she waved, turned, and surface dived. By the time she got to the point, he was too close. She'd never beat him all the way back. Indeed, he got about two of her lengths behind her on the return trip. And he was directly behind her. She put all of her energy into the stroke, and that seemed sufficient. He stayed right at that distance for most of the swim. When they got close to their starting point, though, he swam a little to the side and far past her. He was standing up and breathing easily when she got to the starting point. She grabbed him as an anchor. Then she stood in the water herself. "That's more effort than I want to make again soon," she told him, panting. "You should compete in the triathlon. How do you do running?" "I'm okay in all of it. I'm not prize material, though." "You can sure beat me." "But you're prettier." A light dawned. 'Breast stroke back' then he spent most of the return trip *right* behind her. "You could have passed me earlier," she said. "But that wouldn't have been as much fun to watch." "Humpf!" She went back to the towel they'd left. He swam the course he'd set out again before joining her. "You know," she told him, "Garrett is full of people who think that you're an adult." "'Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.'" "You're impossible!" But he was fun. If her husband was going to ogle some woman, and the frog kick gave plenty of possibilities for ogling, then it was nice he chose to ogle her. He reached for the sunblock and looked inquisitively at her. "I've already put it on," she told him. "Bet you end up with a diamond-shaped sunburn on the small of your back." Well, there was part she had problems reaching. She turned over. He applied the sunblock thoroughly to that area. He also applied it to the back of her legs; she was certain that she'd covered them adequately. When his hands started trailing up the inside of her thighs, she said "Stop!" He was laughing. "We're in front of all the world." "They don't know us." He went back to his book. After she began to itch, however, they returned to the inn and their room. After he had 'helped' her out of her swimsuit, she showered the salt off. When she came out in panties and bra, he greeted her with a nice kiss. He was still wearing his swimsuit, but nothing else. His hands were on her skin all the while his tongue was in her mouth. When the kiss ended, she cuddled into his arms. The suit was a bit clammy against her hip and belly, but the rest of him was warm and comforting. She raised her face for another kiss and then let him go. She dressed in slacks and blouse while he was washing off the sunblock. She lay down on the bed and dipped into his novel. "I didn't know you were a Tom Clancy fan," he said when he came out dressed except for his feet. "I'm not, really." "I know. It was the only book available. The Gideons are slipping these days." "I'd prefer Tom Clancy. I'm on vacation." She'd go back to Bible reading when she went back to work. "Go ahead." David dug into his top drawer. "I brought a Bible." He lay down behind her with it in his hand. Instead of opening it, however, he began to kiss her arm. "Hey," she said, suppressing a laugh, "read your own book and let me read mine." Of course, she was reading *his* book, but he'd brought a Bible with him. "Okay. 'I compare you, my love, to my mare harnessed to Pharaoh's chariot. Your cheeks show fair between their pendants and your neck within its necklaces.'" She put the Tom Clancy down. "Where did you get that?" She'd accuse him of making it up, but the language and comparisons did sound biblical. "Song of Songs. Didn't you read it?" "It wasn't covered in any of my courses." One hell of a lot of the Old Testament wasn't covered. "You weren't an adolescent boy. One of the first books of the Bible I read all the way through. Before some Gospels, maybe before any Gospel." She laughed. "No wonder you're a biblical scholar. Your two interests coincide." "See!" he said. "I may not be perceptive, but I am consistent." She turned away from him and went back to the novel. Aside from his leg against her rump, he let her read in peace. "Dinner?" he asked when she had finished a chapter. Now that she thought about it, she was hungry. They put on shoes, and went out. They went to the southern restaurant. As the had guessed, the portions were large; he finished up her plate when it was more than she wanted. Well, he'd gone more than twice as far as she had when they were swimming. Even so, she wondered where it went. They walked around the town for a bit, ambling and holding hands. When they got to a dark spot where the trees obscured the streetlights, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When they got back to the inn, he asked her, "Is the Clancy all right, or do you want another book?" "You want your novel back?" "That's okay. I figure I can finish it back in Independence. It's not as if you were going to take it far from me." "That's right. We'll be living in the same house." "Sleeping in the same bed." That was a nice thought, but they had a bed to share much closer and much sooner. They were alone on the stairs going up to their room, and he rested his hand on her rump. In the room, after a long kiss, he undressed her. When she was down to her bra and pantyhose, she escaped into the bathroom. She cleaned off her makeup and inserted the diaphragm. She thought about the nightgown again, but it *was* scratchy. She came out naked. After his own bathroom time, David joined her in bed also naked. "Did you even pack pajamas?" she asked. She'd seen his robe hanging in the closet. "Pajamas and a robe. If I have to, I'll wear them. What if one of us comes down sick?" "That's your idea of when to wear pajamas?" "Yep! Or there is some problem that requires a maintenance man. I figure that there is no reason to cover myself around you. I..." he pushed back the sheet "...have nothing to hide from you." Among the things he revealed, all during the conversation but especially with that gesture, was a penis which was beginning to become erect. "Except your sense." "That's what I said," David said. Okay! His sense was nothing. She couldn't argue with that. She leaned on her right elbow and gave him a kiss. His tongue entered her mouth and he began to stroke her. When she lay back, he rose up to kiss all around her face. He revisited her mouth for another deep kiss before he began to trail down to her breasts. When his mouth reached her right nipple, his hand stroked her mound. She spread her legs wider. Instead of her labia, though, he stroked the insides of her thighs. His fingers were feather-light, tickling as much as arousing. He kissed down the bottom of her breast and down, and down. When he got to her mound, he kissed her right hipbone and then her thigh. He stopped to get himself between her legs. He kissed her thigh once more, up that thigh towards her lips. He used his fingers to spread her outer ones, and his tongue to part her inner ones. he licked each one, licked them both, licked everywhere but her clitoris. He shifted so his hands could reach her breasts. He cupped both, but all the motion was down below. The sensations were delightful until they were agony. "David," she said. He stopped all his attentions. "Yes?" "David, please!" Please lick my clitoris; please take me over. Instead, he moved up her body. His fingers spread her lips again and he poised at the entrance. Then he moved within, spreading those lips further, filling her, resting his weight on her. He kissed her once on each eyebrow and shifted his weight. Then he moved in and out. His hands were still no her breasts, and he caressed them as he moved. Her arousal spiraled upward. She pressed against him as he moved down, dropped to the mattress as he moved out. She ran her hands up and down is back as he moved above her. As the feelings peaked, she grabbed his rump. She soared, throbbed. He stroked out once more, thrust in, and had his own orgasm. "Jen!" he said. When she relaxed, he rolled off her and out of her. He was breathing like a steam engine; probably so was she. As she caught her breath, she turned on her side away from him. She cuddled back against him, and he put his arm around her. They lay together in a spoon. When he blew across the back of her neck, she shivered. "Sweet Jen," he said. "Sweet Jennifer. This is the way it is supposed to be. Sweet Jen in my arms all night." It was the way she wanted it to be, as well. But she was alone in the bed when she woke up. She heard the shower, then David's voice. "Morning has broken," he sang, "like the first morning...." Lying in bed, no duties impinging on her morning, after a night of love, listening to David sing in the shower. It couldn't get much better than this. Maybe she could talk the trustees into installing a shower in the Independence parsonage. The End Morning has Broken Uther Pendragon anon584c@nyx.net <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+