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Message-ID: <61059asstr$1300014601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Decision - M " -- Uther -- MF wl
Lines: 409
Date: Sun, 13 Mar 2011 07:10:01 -0400
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 If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by
law to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go
do something else.

This material is copyright, 2011, Uther Pendragon. All rights
reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and
keeping one electronic copy for your personal reading so long as
this notice is included. Reposting requires previous
permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail them to
me at nogardneprethu@gmail.com.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.


Decision - M
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF wl

Bill Pierce hung up his coat and suit coat when he got home. That
preparation made Carolyn's welcome-home kiss all the sweeter. Her
tongue met his, her mound was pressed against his leg. She hugged him,
and he clasped her buns. People told him that married couples stopped
seeing each other as sexual objects, but the effect hadn't begun for him
yet.

She'd cooked a dinner that smelled delicious. He did his part by setting
the table. Even though she was a full-time graduate student, Carolyn still
regarded cooking dinner as part of being married. Her crunch time
would come, but it would end as well. As far as he was concerned, all
her domestic labors, delicious as this dinner was, were an added bonus.
He'd married Carolyn for her body. That didn't make him insensitive to
her spirit, and he could tell that she was nerving herself up to say
something. It didn't look like she wanted to discuss a fault of his,
though.

"Delicious," he told her.

"Glad you like it. You'll see some left-overs this week."

"That's fair. I like left-overs of good cooking. You have something else
you want to talk about?"

"Is it that clear?" Well, yes. But he let her have more silence to gather
her thoughts.

"Remember we said that we'd delay a baby until it didn't interfere with
my employment?" He'd be unlikely to forget it, and they were doing just
that. What needed discussion about that?

"Yes."

"And," she continued, "it's still clear for me to take next year for
dissertation without working?"

"Sure." Wasn't that a bygone? "Could you get a job this late?"

"It would be hard. But..." He waited while she decided whether to
actually get to the subject.

"Look, if I don't teach next year, if I'm not employed, then there is no
employer to object if I go into the hospital next year to have a baby."
She had got to the subject. It was worth the wait. Did they want to start
the baby now? As she said, it was as good a time as any in her
employment. He only owed on the car and the engagement ring, and
the car loan would end before a baby came. His present income, not
counting the pittance that the University paid her for being a teaching
assistant, would cover their expenses in nest-year's larger apartment
and her tuition next year. The dissertation-year tuition, fortunately, was
much less than they charged for actually taking classes. Not that
generous of them, since their only contribution would be a few faculty
consultations and a committee meeting. Well she wouldn't have brought
this up to say that she didn't want to do it -- or would she have?
Carolyn was sometimes brutally frank.

"Are you suggesting getting pregnant now?"

"We could.... I could. Oh, you know what I mean. Still, it's damn early.
And, then too, it's a lot more outgo than you budgeted."

"Yeah. It would be a stretch." On the other hand, it would be the sort
of reason for going into debt that his company would respect. That was
more his worry than the actual debt; if he couldn't manage his money, it
raised questions as to how well he could manage his staff.

"Do you think we should?" That was the question he should be asking
her.

"Well, we can. Do you think that *you* should? Are you telling me
you've gone off the Pill?"

"Not yet. That's a family decision."

"Well, as a family decision, I vote yes. But, it's also a decision about
your body. Are you sure?"

"Well, it might not take. People go years without children. And we only
have so long. If you say a year from July is the last possible date for
delivery -- I'd have to be ready to start teaching a year from
September, after all, and have to be available for things like interviews
before then -- then we could cut out the Pill from now until September."
All of which was meaningless dither. Well, not all. He was under notice
that the decision to go back on the Pill, if she made it in September,
was adjusting to changed circumstances, not feminine vapors.

"Sure. It might not work, but we're deciding whether it would be better
or worse. How likely doesn't enter in to the decision."

"One thing is that my periods lasted longer before I was on the Pill."
And she cut him off during her periods. She tended to be bitchy about
it, too.

"I'll accept that."

"You really want kids, don't you?" Wanted them? Very much. But the
net desire was rather faint. Being a parent was giving hostages to the
future.

"Well, yes. The idea of a kid of my own is damned attractive. On the
other hand, it's also scary. Other people's kids are fun, but they aren't
much of a responsibility." He might walk Beatrice along the back of the
church for half an hour when teething made her fussy. He didn't have to
stay up with her all night when she had something serious.

"Scares you?" That's what he'd said.

"A little."

They had no more discussion, but Carolyn went off the Pill. Her next
period was -- as she'd threatened -- longer. Still, when she came on to
him on a Friday night, he knew his drought had ended.

She'd watched television with him on the sofa. They made out like
high-school kids, and she didn't tense up when his hand went below her
waist. When the news came on, she went away. The news had
precipitated too many arguments in the past. The Democrats and the
media had been persecuting the President over a third-rate burglary as
if Democrats never bugged anybody. Carolyn, for all her vaunted
intellectual skills, had fallen for it time after time. She was wise to pass
the news up this night, although there was nothing of Watergate on it.
She came back from the bathroom and watched the sports report
standing up until a commercial came on.

"When it's over, want to come in and brush my hair?" He loved her
luscious locks, and always wanted to brush her hair. Logically, she
should have let him, but she seldom did -- almost never during her
periods. This time, she not only allowed him to brush, she allowed him
to get it as smooth as he was capable. Meanwhile, he could see more
and more of her cleavage as she let her robe hang open.

"I think that's it." The hair hung down like a glorious, black, waterfall.
Aside from a little static, it was one smooth mass.

"Thanks. Wake me when you come to bed." But he didn't give her time
to go to sleep. She had the lamp on and was naked under the covers.
"Turn off the heater, will you?" He did. The room was too warm, but he
was never sure whether it was warm enough for her.

"Darling." And she was a darling, for her bouts of pretended modesty
as much as for her lush body. They had a delicious kiss.

"I'm definitely not fertile yet." Well, no. But she was incredibly sexually
desirable.

"Well, probably not. Maybe we should try just in case." That got him a
grin.

"Well," she agreed, "just in case." She'd staged this to be a special
sexual occasion, and now she was letting him persuade her. He was
half-way tempted to turn over and pretend to go to sleep, but Carolyn
was stubborn enough to let him.

But it should be special for her, too, and he was in danger of going over
when his dick first touched her snatch. He started with kisses to her
face, continued down her body. She enjoyed the sex more when she
was reminded that he loved her.

The hair he had brushed wasn't the only lovely hair she had. He
combed his fingers across her mound to appreciate the hair there. Then,
he got to the serious part. As his mouth went back upwards, his hand
went lower. He was kissing up the bottom of her breast when he
fingered her snatch -- and struck oil. She was enjoying this.

"Mmm." She might object to explicit mention of her state of lubrication,
but she hugged him in response to his murmur. He managed to get the
first times of touching her nub and sucking the tip of her melon to
coincide.

"Yes, Bill," she said. And, obedient to her comment, he continued those
actions until she went over. Carolyn's orgasms were always so obvious.
She didn't scream then, but her face, her body, her motions, always let
him know her pleasure.

"Darling, I've missed you." He continued to stoke and kiss her until she
had finished going over. But she was capable of more, and he
desperately wanted to feel her next one around his dick, even though he
couldn't last long as excited as he was.

After giving her a couple of minutes relaxation, he started the process
again. He kissed down her melon and over to the far one. A previous
girl friend had told him plainly, embarrassingly plainly, that too much
kissing and sucking could make them sore. Switching melons was a
good precaution. So was going back to rubbing her lips against each
other instead of staying on direct stimulation of her nub.

"You?" Carolyn wanted him.

"Soon. I'm on hair trigger." As he wouldn't be able to last long, he
needed her as aroused as possible before his dick touched her snatch.

When she looked ready, a scowl upon her pretty features, her belly
tense under his arm, and her pelvis unconsciously pushing her mound up
against his hand, he moved between her legs. He left his hand on her
mound as he poised to press his dick into her snatch.

"Carolyn, love," he said after his first stroke. Then he stroked her lips
and nub with his thumb as he moved within her hot smoothness. He
was close enough to erupting that he was grateful that her moisture
diminished the friction. She grabbed his buns, not helping his control.
Then, grimacing, she went over.

"Oh," she said as she clutched around his dick.

"Gah," he echoed her on his next stroke. She hugged him by his buns as
he caught his breath. Even with Carolyn, that had been one of the best.

"I've missed you," he said as he got on his own side and adjusted the
covers.

"Yeah." Which he'd take as meaning that she'd missed him, too.

His cock was pressed between her buns when he woke with a morning
hardon. As usual, he let her go to the bathroom first. She took her robe
with her, but was still carrying it when she came back.

"Wanna share a shower?" She knew the answer to that, and it was
Saturday -- no need to hurry.

"Let me have a minute first." He used the toilet and flushed. She came in
with two big towels while he was lathering up to shave.

"Let me watch?" Sure. Although shaving was a job that required a
steadier hand than being watched guaranteed. She closed the toilet lid
and sat on it to watch closely.

"Men are funny," she said.

"Funnier than you putting on your eyebrows?"

"Ever think of growing a beard?"

"Not since I decided to go into business. Would you like me in a
beard?"

"Maybe in a full one. The first couple of days would be awfully
scratchy." Well, all the more reason for shaving.

As he rinsed off the remains of the shaving cream and examined the
results in the mirror, Carolyn put down the rubber mat and adjusted the
shower. She was leaning over to do these tasks, and he admired her
buns in the mirror. She got in first, and he followed her. When they
were both wet, they had a hug. She handed him the shampoo, and got
her head under the shower to soak it. He squeezed out some shampoo
into his hand, held it under the shower, rubbed his hands together until it
foamed, and started applying it to her hair. First, he stroked his fingers
through her lovely locks. When he dug his finger tips into her scalp, she
sighed.

"You do that so well."

"Labor of love. You wash it because it's dirty, taking time you want to
spend on something else. I love to run my fingers through your hair.
Might as well have shampoo on the fingers when I do." When all the
hair had been soaped and running his fingers through her hair had no
more excuse, he removed his hands and slapped her lightly on a bun.
She turned around and looked up so that her hair hung down under the
stream of the shower. He still had some shampoo on his hand, and she
still had some hair unwashed. He cupped her mound and then stroked
his fingers through the hair there.

"Bill." It was supposed to be admonition, but she was grinning.

"Well, we have to get all your hair clean."

"You're impossible." When she turned around, he ran a special, strong,
comb through her hair to get the last shampoo -- and some of the
water, for that matter -- out of it. She turned again, lifted her hair in
her
hands so that the shower stream hit every section, turned her back to
him for a final combing.

He got under the shower to get his face wet. He used the washcloth to
scrub it, then handed it to her. As he rinsed his face off under the
shower, Carolyn scrubbed his back with the cloth. He turned around,
and she washed his torso. After hanging the soapy washcloth on the
rod for the shower curtain, she soaped his legs with her hands. She
finished up on his groin. She cupped his balls before stroking a soapy
hand once along his dick.

While he rinsed off, she took her washcloth to her face. They'd
discovered that eyes, nose, and mouth are scary areas for another to be
washing. Then she handed the cloth to him. He scrubbed her back.
When that was done, he reached around to soap up her front.

"Oh, Bill." But she leaned back against him as he caressed he melons
and then her belly through the cloth. He straightened her so he could
kneel to get her legs. He soaped the buns, down the backs of her thighs
to her calves. After he traded the cloth with her for the bar of soap, she
leaned against the wall while lifting each foot.

"I'm never so thorough with you," she said when he soaped between
each pair of toes, "or even with me." Well, they were quite sexy toes.
Then, "Ooh, that tickles." Soon, though, he moved on to her shins.
Then he was soaping the fronts and sides of her thighs. He took special
care of the insides of the thighs. Finally, while planting a kiss on a bun,
he soaped the area between her thighs. He handed her the soap to put
on the window sill outside the shower curtain. Then he carefully rinsed
off the part he'd last washed. Finally, he rose and rinsed under the
shower for the last time. They traded places, and she rinsed off
carefully before turning off the shower.

This time, when he hugged her from behind, their bodies weren't slick
from soap. He kissed her ear and neck while stroking her buns with
both hands. Soon after his hand got to her snatch, she spoke.

"Real." She turned around, and they had a 'real kiss,' mouth to mouth.
His hand returned to her snatch as her tongue met his eagerly. She soon
broke the kiss to lean back against the wall with her legs spread apart.
He rested his left hand on the wall beside her, as his kisses traveled
down her neck and over her melon. He stroked her clit slowly as his
mouth approached the tip of her melon. She held his head there as her
body tensed.

"Oh," she said as she went over. He straightened and held her until she
moved off the wall to stand by herself. "Steamy sex," she said; the
entire bathroom was still filled by the mist from the shower. They got
out, and she wrapped her hair in one of the regular towels. He used one
of the big ones to pat her body dry. When he was done, she rubbed
him dry. He opened the door and wrapped the towel he'd used around
her. He lifted her in his arms.

The living room was chilly, but she'd left the heater going in the
bedroom. She kicked the door shut after he'd carried her in. He set her
on the bed still wrapped in the towel. He moved over her and kissed
her face, Then he unwrapped the towel to kiss down her torso. He
stroked her nub again while he was kissing her melons.

"In," she said. Yes, it was time. Her snatch was hot and filled with
liquid. He watched her face as he stroked within that warm slickness.
Her expression went from a smile to a frown. As the furrows on her
brow deepened, her body started to rise to meet his. They were
slapping against each other in perfect rhythm when her scowl deepened
in agony. Then she went over. She stopped meeting his thrusts as her
legs rose behind him. Her snatch clasped his dick.

He lost it, driving her into the mattress while he poured his life and his
love into her. They gasped together as he rested on her softness. His
elbows felt the cords inside the electric blanket. Finally, he moved off,
getting under the covers again.

"I really should be cooking you the breakfast I planned," she said when
she'd joined him under the covers.

"So, we eat a non-standard lunch," he said gathering her into his arms
for a hug.

It was more a brunch, cheese omelets, when she finally got up to cook
it.

The end

Decision - M
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2011/03/11


These same events from Carolyn's perspective, can be read in:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_06f.htm
Carolyn's experience

The first adventures of Bill with Carolyn:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/pie_01m.htm
"Get a Room - M"

Another story about another couple enjoying morning love on a free
day:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/bla_04m.htm
"In the Morning - M"

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