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Message-ID: <62312asstr$1346922601@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Married State - F" -- Uther -- MF wl preg
Lines: 1320
Date: Thu, 06 Sep 2012 05:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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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, 2012, 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.



Married State - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com

MF wl preg


Monday, the 14th of January, Candy Wharton was scheduled to pick out a bed
with Eric, the bed which they would share for their married years. She
would meet him at the county Building at 5:00 p.m. How should she dress?
She would have to take the bus and then the EL, and it was slushy out. That
would make her usual costume of jeans and sweater quite sensible. On the
other hand, she was going to be shopping with her fiance, shopping for a
bed in a department store. Afterwards, Eric was almost certain to take her
to a restaurant to eat. She wanted to look like a matron, not like a school
girl. Then, too, he was likely to take her back to his apartment for a
little sex, and she wanted to look sexy as he stripped her.

The weather won. She put on sexy underwear, but covered that with
pantyhose, jeans, a warm blouse and a warmer sweater. She wore tennis shoes
and overshoes on her feet and a warm parka with a scarf and mittens.

She was at the elevators on the county side 10 minutes before 5:00. Eric
was a little late. Of course, he got off work at 5:00, and so did everybody
else in the building. First he had to get his own coat on, and then he had
to wait for the elevators when they were most in demand. The elevators were
on both sides of the hallway, and she was looking north when he got off an
elevator to her south.

"Candy," he said from behind her. He reached out and took her left hand.
Then he remembered and took her right hand in his left. That let her
display the ring. "You in the mood for walking?" he asked. "The car is
half-way to Carson's and parking down there is a pain in the ass."

"Sure." She did, however, put her mittens back on. Eric didn't lead her
outside, but rather through a series of underground passageways before they
climbed up to the sidewalk for the last blocks. "I didn't know those were
down there." The tunnels had mostly protected them from the wind, although
none of them seemed to be heated.

"There are Chicagoans, and then there are Loop dwellers. I don't think
anybody designed that system. The individual buildings each do what they
find convenient." Yeah, the path hadn't been all that direct.

"Look," he said when they got to the store, "there is a general decision
before we get to the specific decision. When we move to a new, larger
place, are you going to want to redo the bedroom? Or are you content with
what I have now? More, of course, as well as a larger bed, but starting
from what I have now." She was silent. She didn't know what to say. "The
reason I'm asking is that we either get something which will go with what
I've got or you start your decorating now. You buy a bed which will be the
first piece of the new decor." She hadn't thought of this, and was a little
taken aback. As far as she was concerned, they were just getting a new bed,
and only getting that because he had specifically asked her. "In case you
don't remember, I brought some Polaroids to show you what the room looks
like now." He took them out and handed them to her. The room looked fine.
She wasn't really into decorating.

"That's fine. Let's get something to go along with these." And so they did.
It was a fine-looking bed. He asked her if she could sleep on a firm
mattress, and she said that would be fine. The bed would be delivered in a
week.

"I thought," he said in the car, "we'd go back to the foe place." She
didn't know what he meant, and she waited for some more information. "The
Vietnamese soup place."

"That sounds fine. Have you really run out of restaurants?"

"Well, not in Evanston, and we really haven't done the Loop yet. There are
two Loop eating experiences, lunch and dinner, though both kinds of places
are mostly open for both meals. In the rest of Chicago, I only know a few,
and most of those aren't on our way. Chinatown, for instance. But this
place makes for a reasonably short detour from the direct way to your home.
Besides, I thought you liked it. You finished your bowl of soup." Now she
remembered.

"I did like it. It was fine."

"The other thing, is that they are going to deliver the bed in a week. Do
you think you could be there? Don't lift anything, but see if they'll set
the bed up. If they won't, I will."

"Sure." She wasn't certain at all, this was beyond her experience.

"Okay. Stupidly, I didn't have keys made. I'll give them to you Wednesday.
By the way, do you have a driver's license?"

"Sure. How is that 'by the way'?" How was it related at all?

"I'll have another set of car keys made at the same time. Your moving into
my apartment is the only practical way we can do this, but I'm bound to
treat it as if I'm the only one there. That's not selfishness; it's
stupidity. Tell me when I'm doing that, okay?"

"Sure." He had always been generous with her.

The soup was good, and he drove her home as he had implied he would. They
had a sweet kiss in the car outside her door, and he watched from the car
while she went in. Then he drove away.

Everything she had known about guys said that he would be anxious to get
her into bed. He didn't seem to be. On the other hand, they had made love.
He had been turned on by her before that, and he'd pushed for the marriage
after that. Well, she knew less about Eric than she had thought she did.
All she really knew was that he was a guy, and he didn't behave like a guy
did. She knew that he worked for the States Attorney, but she didn't have
the slightest idea what that meant.

Wednesday, the weather was awful and the driving looked bad. Eric called.

"Look, can I pick you up earlier? I want to be sure about getting to the
church before 6:45."

"Sure."

"Expect me about 5:45, but I'm not guaranteeing that, either. Dress for
sloshing through snow, but don't get your coat and stuff on until I get
there." She followed that advice. She wasn't even sure that Eric could get
his car down her street. The plows were all on the main streets. He arrived
nearly on time, though the weather was so bad that he stopped in the street
and rang her bell. He went back to the car and drove around the block again
before she went out.

They got to the church. He waited until the pastor opened the door that led
to the parlors, then he let her out and went to park. Really, though he was
taking care of her, she was dressed more suitably for the weather than he
was.

The pastor led her to his office and then went back to wait for Eric. The
two men came in together.

"Well," said Eric, "the two of us want to get married."

"I thought that might be it. Candy was sporting an engagement ring. Let me
get some objective data first."

She had to spell 'Candace,' and Eric's official title was 'Assistant
State's Attorney.' She gave her occupation as 'college student' which
wouldn't be true much longer if it was now. Classes for the new semester
were about to resume, and they'd resume without her. Eric had been born on
March 5, 1950, which made him almost exactly 10 1/2 years older than she
was.

"Well, how long have you known each other?"

"Since early November," she said

"That was a Wednesday, too," Eric said. "It must be precisely ten weeks."

"Don't you think you're being a bit precipitous?" When neither of them
answered him, Rev. Lawrence went on: "And how did you meet?"

"We were both guests of Carolyn," Eric said. That was factually true, but
it didn't really answer the question. She wanted to keep the rape secret,
but would the marriage really be legitimate if they misled the officiating
clergyman? And it didn't look like they could mislead this man much longer.

"Look," she said. "This whole conversation is confidential, right?"

"Certainly. If there is something particular you want me to keep quiet, if
you're not going to tell anybody about 'Candace' or you're going to pretend
that you are a 22-year-old college graduate, you should warn me. But I'm
not going to tell any secrets I learn here or at any other counseling
session, and nobody can make me."

"That's right," said Eric, "privileged communication."

"Okay," she said. "This is what happened. I was raped. I went to Prof.
Pierce. She said I should report it. Finally, she said that she knew a
prosecutor I could report it to. I and that prosecutor, Eric, met in her
house. After the twins were asleep and Mr. Pierce had gone to a meeting, I
told him the story. He got me to tell it to a woman who heads rape
prosecutions at his office. They decided that they couldn't prosecute.

"Meanwhile, I discovered that I was pregnant. It had to be from the rape. I
told Eric."

Eric took up the story. "I had a nice, year-long plan for courting her.
When I heard that she was pregnant, I saw that this year-long courtship
wasn't what she needed. I proposed immediately. She took a while, but she
accepted. By the way, in terms of confidences you might not know are
confidences, that we've only known each other for 10 weeks is one. This is
going to be my child. That it was conceived before we got married will be
plain to everybody. That it was conceived before we even met is something I
want known to as few people as possible."

"Certainly. Might I ask, are you planning to have this wedding simply to
give the baby your name and then end it?"

"No," Eric said. "The timing is because of the baby. The marriage will be
until death do us part." The minister looked at her. She took a deep
breath, but she had already decided.

"Until death do us part."

"Well, you've taken the wind out of my sails. I thought that you were being
precipitous, and -- really -- you are. But I certainly see why. A lot of my
usual questions are also less to the point right now, but..."

He did have several questions, and they had to admit that they hadn't
discussed those matters. They hadn't really discussed sex, but they had
more reason to assume agreement than she was willing to share with a
pastor, confidentiality guaranteed or not. They agreed to discuss 4 things
with each other before the wedding: child-raising practices, budget,
household chore assignments, and sexual relations. He agreed to perform the
service. They scheduled it for Saturday, Feb. 2.

"Want the reception here, too?"

"I think so," said Eric. He looked at her, and she nodded.

"That means that it has to be dry. For the church and the parlors both,
it's $200. It's $100 for me and $75 for Dennis over that. We pay the sexton
for all cleaning, but..."

"Yeah," said Eric. "I'll slip Pete something. I think the rest is on
Candy's parents. If they don't come through, tell me."

"They're not happy with your choices?"

"Well," she said, "they're not happy with the situation."

"One last thing," the pastor said, " and I'll let you go. We've changed the
wording, changed it long ago. It's not 'Til death us do part.' It's now 'As
long as we both shall live.' Don't worry about it. The words are my
responsibility, and you both are clear what they mean, which is the
important thing."

"Another question entirely," said Eric. "As long as we have you here and
you know the background, Candy hasn't been taking communion."

"Yes, I've noticed that." So many, and he'd noticed her? "We have an open
communion. I try to say that. You don't have to belong here. You don't have
to belong anywhere. As long as you have been baptized and believe in
Christ, you are welcome at our table, really at His table."

"I just feel so dirty."

"Because of the rape?"

"Yes."

"Well that isn't a theologically valid reason. My usual line is that
communion is a medicine for sin; it isn't a feast for the sinless. That
doesn't really apply to your case, because what makes you hesitate isn't
your own sin. It's more what Jesus said, 'It isn't what goes into a man,'
(or, I might add, a woman) 'but what comes out of a man which makes him
unclean.' Anyway, you are welcome whenever we have communion. You are not
required."

He led them to the door and followed them out. He turned the other way at
the sidewalk to go to his own car.

"And, now," Eric said as they drove away, "where do we eat? Have any old
favorites? any new suggestions?"

"Well, why don't we get take-out and eat at your place again. We have
things to settle."

"I didn't clean up."

"Considering that I'll be cleaning up after you in less than a month, I
don't think that will be too much of a shock."

"Thai again? Pizza?"

"Pizza sounds good." So they got a medium pizza and returned to his
apartment.

"Where do we begin?" he asked.

"I begin before you do. Do you have that directory? I need to call Joan and
Claire." He dug the directory up. Both names were circled. She called
Claire first.

"Claire? This is Candy. You know Eric and I are getting married." She had,
after all, seen the ring.

"Yeah. Congratulations to both of you."

"Thanks. Would you be willing to be a bridesmaid? The wedding is at your
church on Saturday February 2nd. I'm not planning to wear anything special,
and the bridesmaids would wear their own clothes, too."

"Why thank you, Candy. I'd be honored."

"I'm the one who's honored. You were there when I needed you, needed
someone desperately."

Joan wasn't there, and she left a message to try her at home.

"Now," said Eric, "let's eat." He had everything set up. They divided up
the pizza, and then began to eat.

"Well," she said, "we promised the pastor to talk about several things.
Before we get to household chores, you should know one thing. I got my
grades. I got a C in Economics and another in Phys Ed. I got a D in English
and in Geology. I failed American History. I'm not going back."

"Candy! That's awful, but that was because of how you felt after the rape.
You can do it."

"I don't think I could do it next semester, fighting morning sickness.
Anyway, I know that a modern marriage has equal sharing of household
chores." She hadn't really fit into the crowd -- hadn't found a crowd to
fit in with -- at Circle. She had heard that much from the other girls,
though. Her classmates at Steinmetz hadn't been so interested in being
modern. "Right now, though, I'm not going to be doing anything else. I
should be able to keep house, even in a larger apartment."

"I take out the garbage. You're saying you do all the rest?"

"Yeah."

"Well, things might change when there's a baby."

"Well I hope the baby, at least, is changed." He smiled at that.

"Budget," he said. "I've been putting away $200 a month out of my
take-home. We'll need some of that to pay for feeding you. We can save
money on my parking downtown. I can get back and forth on the El. It stops
very close to traffic court. The way I live, driving doesn't cost much;
it's parking that eats you alive."

"You really eat most of your meals out?"

"Not breakfast. More than half of those I eat here."

"Well, you're going to have to learn to stomach my cooking. That will
increase our grocery bills, but less than you're spending in restaurants."

"I'm sure that anything you cook will taste delicious. And then, there's
your clothing bill."

"That's not all that great. You'd be surprised." Men thought women spent a
fortune on clothes. Despite Dad's opinion, she didn't.

"Have you thought of maternity clothes?" No, she hadn't. "Look, I know this
isn't quite what he said. Let's put it into 3 compartments. There's house
-- rent, utilities, phone. We can put car insurance in there, too. Then
there's my expenses. Then there's your expenses. Why don't we come together
Sunday after church. I'll bring my pay-stub, the housing costs, and my
costs. You bring your costs. We'll work out a tentative budget then. And,
of course, the baby will blow that to smithereens. Carolyn used to claim
that the twins could outgrow their clothes on the way home from buying
them."

"Then," she said, "there's child-raising rules." She wasn't going to
mention sex until they had dealt with the rest. If the discussion section
on sex turned into a lab course, they would have done the rest of the
stuff.

"You agree that I have equal voice?"

"And equal responsibility?"

"Certainly. Obvious constraints excepted."

"Sure." She was going to be home when he wasn't. She wouldn't expect him to
make up those times changing diapers. "I think, though, that Rev. Lawrence
was expecting us to decide more than that we'd get an equal vote -- like
what the rules were. I keep picturing a very small baby, but I know that
we'll be parents for decades."

"Yeah. I, on the other hand, keep picturing the twins when I think of kids."

"What do they want you to do that's not appropriate in church?" She'd been
wondering since he'd first come down in his choir robes, weeks ago. They'd
only been together for weeks, and now they were going to be together for
the rest of their lives.

"Spin them around. Really, spin one of them around, and then the other.
Unlike their father, I hold them tight when I'm doing it. It's really an
outdoor game, but they're too used to Bill's roughhousing to respect
furniture."

"You plan on treating your own that way?" He had, after all, said her child
would be his own.

"Well, our own, we can tell that they can't do that inside. And, of course,
I didn't start with the boys when they were babies, and they won't have
Bill's influence, either. Well, I suppose that I said that we should let
Bill have some access. Really, he's good with kids. As to limits, I think
-- whatever I said about my having equal authority -- you should be the one
telling Bill the limits. I've never seen him argue with a mother, except,
of course, with Carolyn."

"Anyway, you don't expect to be too rough with it. You're right, 'it'
sounds wrong. Too rough with him or her."

"We'll agree, beforehand, what's too rough at any particular age. You know,
not even Bill held the twins upside down when they were newborn. And, of
course, it's not 'too rough with him or her.' Either it's 'too rough with
him' or it's 'too rough with her.' And those might well be different
questions. Anyway, The first issue is what the kid wants. Some of what he
wants is wrong, outdoor games in the house, for instance. But you don't
spin around or hold upside down a kid who doesn't want you to. Now, to get
more practical, what is your position on physical punishment, spanking?"

"I keep thinking of a baby."

"That's obvious. You don't spank an infant. Think of a 3-year-old."

"I still remember being the one who was spanked."

"Yeah. Me too. It's a live issue in the church. Hell! It's a live issue in
the marriage of Carolyn and Bill. That's why I asked. They didn't. Until
the twins came along, their main arguments were over tax rates."

"I don't know. I'd rather not spank her, but I don't know what else to do."

"Well, in the beginning, you can discipline a kid by holding it away from
what it wants to do. I don't know what else to do when they get to be
Paul's age. of course, those are kids who were spanked regularly. Once you
start, I don't think other punishments work. Okay, let's go with this. We
don't plan to spank. When either of us feels that other punishments aren't
working, we have a discussion where the kid can't hear."

"That's very sensible."

"I hear a lot about reading to the kid."

"Well, don't you do that with the twins?"

"Yeah. But there is an opinion in the church that you should read to the
kid for a half hour every day from the time he can sit up to the time that
he can read by himself. You read holding the book so you both can see it.
Bedtime stories are additional."

"You say I should." He had said 'you should.' Where was the equal
responsibility?

"I say someone should. As you said, I enjoy reading."

"We'll try."

"And, when I said there's an opinion in the church, the women have these
circles. They're part of UMW." This was supposed to communicate to her, she
could tell. It could have been in Greek for all she understood. "They get
together mostly by the age of their children. As you could guess, they swap
a great deal of advice. I only hear the edges, from Carolyn or in choir.
Anyway, you'll have other sources, books, your doctor, your own mother,
maybe some other acquaintances. As I said, I expect to have an equal vote,
but there will be many issues where you'll get advice and I won't have
heard of." That she could understand, sort of. He had equal say when he had
an opinion, but she had first responsibility. But she didn't have the first
responsibility because it wasn't his child; she had first responsibility
because she was a woman.

"And when I do, I'll talk it over with you."

"You are a dream." As long as she wasn't a nightmare.

"Is that child care?"

"Not really," he said. "I think, though, that it's all the decisions on
child care either of us has enough information or opinion to make."

"That leaves sex."

"Do you still think I'll frighten you?" That really wasn't the question.

"Not as long as you move slowly."

"That's good to know -- both.... I mean it's good to know -- very good to
hear -- that I don't frighten you, and it's good to be warned to move
slowly. But, right at the end, I might find it difficult." He was thinking
of moving rapidly in and out. That wasn't what had frightened her. Well,
she wasn't going to ask him to kneel upright again, so he wasn't going to
fall on her again. Even that wouldn't be so frightening now. She'd know
what he was doing.

"Right at the end doesn't bother me."

"Still, I'll try to keep it in mind."

"You know, I don't think we ever told him that I had been scared." And Rev.
Lawrence had specifically told them to reach agreements on sex.

"Well, we told him that you had been raped. It doesn't take a genius. *I*
knew that you were afraid of men the first time I met you, and I'm not all
that sensitive. For that matter, the man is an experienced counselor,
trained too. They probably tell him that rape victims react badly to men in
seminary." Was that what she'd done, react badly to him? Well, that wasn't
the best choice of words, but she knew what he meant.

"Still, I got the impression that he wants every couple to settle the
questions about sex before they get married." He didn't speak for a minute.

"The floor is open. I mean what issues about sex do you want to bring up."
Well, she did have an issue: 'Eric, you don't excite me sexually.' But that
would be cruel to say, and this was a man who had always been kind to her.
Maybe she could deal with what he could do without dealing with what he
couldn't change.

"Eric, I want you to take care to excite me in every sex act."

"I'll try. Did I fail that time?"

"Oh, no. You were wonderful. But, I wasn't considering that the standard."
Indeed, if she got two climaxes for his one, as she had the Sunday in
question, it would be picky to complain that neither one was during the
actual sex.

"Anything more?" he asked. Not really. Well...

"Well, I want you to kiss me all the time."

"Not during working hours, unfortunately. But, I'm off duty now." When he
got up, she did, too. The kiss was long and sweet. His hands stroked down
her back several times before he gripped her seat. He pulled her against
him, and she could feel his erection. He did want her, despite her worries.
When he broke the kiss, he kissed her face and the side of her neck. He
turned her around. He kissed the side of her neck and her shoulder while
his hands held her boobs. Now, his erection was pressed against her seat.

What he didn't do was begin to undress her. Finally, he moved back.

"Maybe, in this weather, we shouldn't kiss all the time. Instead, we should
find time to be inside where kissing is more pleasant. Oh, by the way." He
went to a living-room table with a drawer. She followed him, and he'd
removed a ring of keys from the drawer before she got there. "This one is
the outside door. This is the apartment door. This is the trunk and this is
the car door and ignition." He'd said that he would get keys for her, and
he had. She took the ring and got her purse to drop the keys into that.
They had a much briefer kiss, but fun. Then he helped her into her coat and
got into his parka.

"I'll see you Sunday, right?" he said in the car.

"Sure. 10:30?"

"It's messy driving. Want to make it a little earlier? 10:20?"

"Sure."

"Do we have to wait 'til Sunday? You kept saying that we couldn't have a
date between Sundays because you needed to think things through."

"Well, I did."

"You did, and you thought them through. Do you still need more thinking
time?"

"I don't believe so?"

"Pick you up Friday at 6:00?"

"Or I could meet you downtown."

"Don't do that. You shouldn't spend time on the CTA when I can pick you up."

"Are we going to compare budgets?" They had said that they would.

"Let's just eat. Let's leave budgets 'til Sunday." They had a short kiss in
the car before he walked her to the door and a longer kiss there. He'd been
right. The kisses indoors without their coats were better.

"Where have you been?" Mom asked when she got in.

"I've been with my fiance, settling details about my wedding. It's going to
be at 3:00 on the 2nd of February. That's a Saturday."

"That took you all this time?"

"Well, we decided other things you don't have to know. Mom, ask me no
questions, and I'll tell you no lies. I'm going to be out of your hair in
less than a month." Mom thought she had been having sex. She was ashamed to
tell her that she had not. "One more thing you do need to know, the
reception will be at the church -- what they call the parlors."

"Well, you could have asked us."

"So we could. On the other hand, it's convenient to the wedding. And it's
one hell of a lot cheaper than any alternative."

"How much?"

"The church space and the reception space are $200 combined. I got the
impression that they would be more separate. No booze in the church, so the
refreshments will be cheaper. The pastor is $100, and somebody else is $75.
That means that you're getting away with less than $400 plus the food. Be
serious. What does a wedding dress cost?"

"Well, that's true. I expected to spend more at your wedding, but I
expected to hold my head up, too." And, since she was pregnant, Mom
couldn't hold her head up. Mom blamed her. Dammit, she had been raped.

Thursday morning after breakfast, she got a call from Joan.

"Sorry. I got in way late. I didn't want to wake you."

"Kurt?"

"I don't ask you where Eric is." And while Eric was presumably at work, he
had been in the room when she'd first called Joan.

"Well, soon you won't have to. We're getting married February 2nd."

"Candy, how nice!"

"Thing is, I'd like you to be a bridesmaid. I'm not going with special
dresses, not even for myself."

"Why, Candy, that's sweet of you." She decided that the pun was
unintentional. When your name is 'Candy,' you get sensitive about puns.

"Not as sweet as you and Claire were. I really needed that support. Anyway,
was that an acceptance?"

"If it wasn't, this is. February 2nd?"

"Yeah. It's a Saturday. 3:00."

Friday, she wore her most adult party dress, and he took her to one of the
downtown restaurants he'd mentioned. They had glasses of wine with their
meal. When he drove her home, she stopped him before the kiss at the door.

"Come in, instead." Mom and Dad were watching TV in the living room, and he
stopped to talk for a minute while she went upstairs to take off her coat
and shoes. Downstairs, Mom was bitching about the wedding details again.
"Stay here, I have something to show Eric in the kitchen," she told them
when she got downstairs again.

When they had kissed briefly, she got him to take off his coats -- overcoat
and suit coat. Then they shared a lot more kisses. Again, his hands were
busy. Again, he had an erection, but he didn't do anything with it. Well,
this time, she was glad he didn't.

After she had walked him to the door, she went upstairs to get ready for
bed. It was early, but she had to get out of the dress, anyhow. His hands
and mouth had got her all excited, and she took care of that. She imagined
his hands taking the place of hers. She felt vaguely that she should be
imagining his cock, instead, but his hands had provided her with climaxes.

"You look gorgeous," he said Sunday morning when he picked her up. They
shared a short kiss in the car before he started it. "Look, 2 things. Today
is coffee hour again. Second, have you thought about inviting the church?"

"They won't expect something fancy?"

"Not really. I've been to receptions in the church parlors. They bring in
food from local restaurants."

"But the wedding service?"

"It will be out of the standard book that Methodist preachers use. They've
seen long white trains and flower girls. They've seen ordinary clothes. You
want to be part of the church, don't you?"

"Very much." When she had needed support, that is where Prof. Pierce had
found support for her. She owed that community, and she envied the people
who had that community.

"Well when Aldersgate members get married to each other, everybody looks
on."

"Okay."

"Well, it won't be everybody. The kids don't usually come, and others give
it a pass, but it's one thing to be invited and give it a pass, and it's
another thing to not be invited."

"I said 'okay.'" Why was he beating a dead horse?

"The reason I ask today is that I'd like to issue the invitation at coffee
hour."

"Why not?"

"And this time, maybe, it would be better if we don't split up."

"Yeah. I can see that. You were right the first time, though." The first
time, a month ago, he had been a nice guy who was giving her rides to
church because that was where she was finding her support. The coffee hour
after this, he would be her husband, would have been her husband for two
weeks. They were moving awfully fast. Of course, she needed to move fast.

Eric announced the wedding and issued the invitation at coffee hour. There
was a little applause, which sounded odd to her. When he took her around,
though, everybody was nice. Before they left, he took her down a hall into
a room which wasn't being used. His kisses were sweet, and he held her by
the seat despite being in church. After they ate in a restaurant, though,
he took her home. He didn't suggest his apartment.

They exchanged their budgets in the restaurant. He had a Xerox of his for
himself. She saw that she would have to write out another copy of hers for
herself. Well, she had probably kept her rough draft.

In the car he gave her a $20 bill for a tip to the deliverymen if they set
up the bed, and a single in case they didn't.

Monday, she came to his apartment early to wait for the delivery of the
bed. She could imagine all sorts of trouble, but she met nobody in the
building. It was a 6-flat, and everybody seemed to be gone. She spent her
time snooping. After all, this would be her home in 12 days, and he had
told her to make herself at home.

Eric wasn't Bluebeard. The most incriminating thing she found was a small
stash of dirty magazines. They had been addressed to him, though. So they
weren't dirty enough to be barred from the mail. He had a box of Trojans in
his night stand. There were 11 and the box had originally held 12. He did
have 2 pairs of jeans, as he had said. They were neatly folded. All his
clothes seemed to be neatly kept -- either folded or hung on hangers. He
had his shirts laundered rather than washing them himself. They didn't seem
to be starched. His shorts were a fair number of tighty-whities and one
pair of boxers. He had another pair of boxers hanging on a hook in the
closet. He had two pairs of white athletic socks and an incredible number
of pairs of identical black socks. He had one set of pajamas folded at the
bottom of his underwear drawer.

The food, which she should have investigated first, included hamburger
meat, TV dinners, orange juice, and loads of commercially-frozen vegetables
in the freezer. Milk, eggs, butter, bread, lettuce, and condiments were in
the 'fridge. He had cans of soup and of such meals as spaghetti and chili.
He had an adequate supply of spices in cans, but most of the cans seemed
full. It looked as if he had bought ground cloves or ginger because he
wanted to use them once, and then never used them again. He had a half-full
box of corn flakes. She wondered whether that or the eggs were his usual
breakfast.

She put the hamburger in the frying pan and heated it over a low fire. She
scraped enough off each side as it cooked to make a decent, if loose,
hamburger for lunch. She ate it with lettuce and Italian salad dressing.

When the delivery men rang the bell, she let them in. They took the old bed
and set up the new one. After she had tipped them, she started to make the
bed. Eric's old sheets didn't fit. Of course! All he had were sheets for
twin beds.

Well, by this time, the hamburger was all thawed and mostly cooked. She
went out and found a grocery store. She bought boxed spaghetti, an onion, a
green pepper, some garlic, and a can of stewed tomatoes. She went back to
the apartment and made some real spaghetti. She had the water hot for
boiling the spaghetti, but turned off, and she was stirring the sauce when
he came home. She turned off the fire under the sauce when she heard the
door open.

"Well," he said.

"Take your coat off first." He did, and followed it with his suit coat. He
was still cold to hug and kiss, but she didn't let that stop her. His
tongue, at least, was warm. Most of him was by the time they came up for
air.

"I gather," he said, "that you didn't want to go out for dinner."

"You said to make myself at home."

"I meant for your convenience, but that smells delicious. Did the bed come
all right?"

"Yeah, but the sheets didn't."

"Damn! I should have thought of that."

"So should I."

"Why? You didn't know what I had." Well, that was kind of him to say. But
if a guy has only a twin bed, you at least ask if he had sheets for a
double.

"Is there a place to buy them before it closes?" she asked. She didn't know
the shopping in Evanston. She knew the restaurants, if not their location
very well, but nothing else.

"Yeah. Can you leave the dinner?"

"Easily. Let's go."

There was a Sears with a large parking lot. They bought several sets of
sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. Back in the apartment, she finished the
meal while he made the bed. He didn't seem to have a colander, or even know
what one was. He tipped the pot over the sink with both hands in potholders
while she held the lid mostly on. Only a few strands escaped. He did have
several pairs of tongs, and she fished most of the spaghetti out with one
of those pairs. Then they repeated the process.

Despite the clumsiness of the preparation, he pronounced the meal
delicious. It was better than his cans, for sure, but he was used to
restaurants.

They cleared, rinsed off the dishes, and stacked the dishwasher in unison.
They were, in  a special way, a couple. They kissed for a long time
standing up. When he sat down in a kitchen chair, he drew her into his lap.
That was another way to kiss, and, when he got her to turn around, she
could sit with her legs straddling one of his while he kissed her neck and
ear and held her boobs.

They made out for a long time before he drove her home. Still, he didn't
suggest inaugurating the bed, and it was a double bed, specially bought for
holding the two of them.

"Look," he said in the car, "dates Wednesday and Friday nights?"

"Sure."

"Let's skip this 6:00 bit. I'll come right after work. I'll aim for 5:30,
but don't put on your coat 'til I ring the bell."

And that's what they did. They had short kisses when he came in, and longer
ones after he brought her home. He took her to movies as well as to dinner.
What he didn't do is take her to bed.

"Rehearsal Friday night?" Rev. Lawrence asked as they left the service
Sunday.

"Um, sure. Claire? Can you make it?" Claire had been hanging around with
them after the service. Eric had offered her a ride home.

"Yeah. Do you want me to tell Joan?"

"Could you? I quite forgot about the rehearsal."

"That's all right," Rev. Lawrence said. "It's your first wedding. It's not
my first, not even my hundredth. And *you*" he poked Eric on the chest
"host the rehearsal dinner. Is 7:00 a good time?"

"Okay. We'll call you if there is a problem." Well, with the 2 of them and
Claire, they had 3 of the 10 who would be in the wedding party.

"If Mom, Dad, and Rachel can't come," Eric said as they walked to the car,
"it will be Friday night, not 7 p.m., which is the problem." The weather
had turned clear and warm. That is to say that it got above freezing in the
afternoons. Chicago side streets were being plowed, and Evanston seemed to
get better service.

"Well," he continued after they had dropped Claire off, "we won't have a
date Friday night." Actually, they had a very public one.

"Or we'll have a different kind of date."

"Are Monday and Wednesday all right?"

"Sure."

Her roots were beginning to show again. She'd done her hair at home the
last several times, but for her wedding, she thought a beauty parlor was
more appropriate. She made the appointment for Thursday afternoon.

By Wednesday, the roads were mostly dry. They didn't go to a movie, and in
the restaurant, Eric handed her a thick envelope.

"What is this?"

"Put it in your purse. We'll talk later." As they were walking to the car,
Eric asked, "You still have your car keys?"

"Yeah."

"Feel confident about driving tonight?" Well, she would have preferred to
get familiar with a new car in the daylight -- in the summer if it came to
that. She, however, didn't make any glaring errors or cause an accident.
Eric asked her to drive to the apartment.

"Look, why don't you take the car now? I have papers in the glove
compartment saying that you have my permission to drive the car in case you
are stopped. The envelope I gave you is some cash. You spent a little for
groceries already. This is money for what you think the household needs.
Some of it is in singles, 'cause you don't want to go in and buy a head of
lettuce with a 20. The tank is nearly full, but you might need gas, too.
I'll ride the EL to work the next two days, and Bill or Dad will get me to
the rehearsal -- to the wedding, too." Eric had asked Prof. Pierce's
husband to be his best man.

"I don't know."

"Well, I do. Come into the apartment whenever you like. I've been using a
woman, Millie, to clean half-days on Fridays. She knows about you, and
she's been given severance pay, but she'll be in Friday. If you go there
Friday, don't be surprised to see her. I cleaned out 2 drawers and a shelf
of the medicine cabinet for you. Half the closet, too. Now, how about a
kiss?" So she kissed him. The steering wheel did make it awkward. Then she
drove home. When she opened the envelope, it contained 5 $20 bills and 10
singles.

She used the car to partially move in before and after the hairdressing
appointment on Thursday. Friday, whatever the cleaning woman had been told
about her, she stayed away. Instead, she went shopping and -- mostly --
stayed home. That night, though, she drove to the rehearsal in Eric's car
rather than ride with Mom and Dad.

The rehearsal went smoothly. They'd pared it down far enough that nothing
much *could* go wrong. She met Eric's parents and sister. Rachel was a
single mom. Her kid, a 12-year-old, was staying the night with friends. The
Stewart family had come in from Moline and was spending the night in a
motel.

The rehearsal dinner was in the back room of yet another Evanston
restaurant. There had to be tons of those. There were more, of course, in
Chicago, but there weren't anywhere near as many in Belmont-Cragin and
Portage Park as there seemed to be in Evanston. Everybody ordered off the
menu, but Eric paid. On Eric's recommendation she had the veal scallopine.

She, rather than his family, drove Eric home. They had a long kiss in the
car, but Eric didn't invite her up. She drove home.

The car was a complication Saturday. She drove Mom to the church, and Dad
drove the family car. The church, which was never full on a Sunday, was a
lot emptier for their wedding. Dad walked her down the right-hand aisle.
(Aldersgate didn't have a central aisle.) Everything went fine. Mom burst
into tears.

At the reception, there were a half-dozen college-age women who weren't
church regulars. Gwen was among them, and the others were friends of Joan,
Claire, or both. Some of the older women of the church made and served
punch. Prof. Pierce's husband wasn't in the line, and soon after it broke
up he came in with another man carrying take-out food. He went back out and
came in with a cake. The food they served was Thai. She and Eric and their
families sat at what was as close to a head table as the room could
provide. People, except for their table, got their own food and their own
glasses of punch -- buffet style. Everybody was nice, and they started
circulating soon.

"I was getting the food with Bill while you were being kissed," the other
man who had got the food said. "Am I entitled to a kiss now?" She supposed
so, and gave him a peck on the lips. "It's none of my business, but how old
are you?"

"19." It might be none of his business, but, of the many questions which
weren't any of his business, this was the least embarrassing.

"Wow! You must be quite a prodigy."

"Hardly." She had all but flunked out of her freshman year.

"Didn't you tell me that you were a student of Carolyn's?"

"Some of us, Dan, talk to undergraduates." Prof. Pierce had come over
during the conversation.

"I talk to undergraduates."

"Lecture at them is more like it." Dan went away, and Prof. Pierce asked
her, "Are you happy?"

"I think so. More dazed, though. I wanted to thank you for my grade."

"You earned it. That was your grade on the final. That was what you knew."

"That and another C in Phys. Ed. were my highest grades. I'm not going
back."

"Well, I can understand not wanting to go back into that cesspool, but did
you get a D?"

"Yeah. 2 of them. I flunked American History flat out."

"Well, you should know that you can go on from a D at Circle, but most
schools won't transfer credit when the grade is D. What were they in?"

"English and Geology."

"And do you need more natural science?"

"No."

"Well, you need English. At Circle, maybe at Champaign-Urbana, I don't know
the reciprocality between the campuses, you have your natural science
distribution. Anywhere else, you probably don't. As I said, every school
has its own rules. Most, however, won't transfer a D. Anyway, you have a
new life now. You kept your books?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if you go somewhere else, you won't have the grades, except for
Economics and Phys. Ed. You will, on the other hand, have the knowledge you
picked up. Read those books again. If you can't transfer that grade, I
would go look at another natural science. I don't know which ones -- nobody
knows until you look at specific schools -- you can get in a single
semester. English, as I said, is a necessity. But you can read those books
and walk into the next school knowing as much as the guys who passed the
courses with high marks. They'll have forgotten most of it."

"I feel such an idiot."

"Don't. And don't feel anything about being a student today. This is your
day, Mrs. Stewart, enjoy it." Her husband walked up carrying 2 glasses of
punch and handed one to her.

"Well, I was out getting the food when you were passing out kisses. Do I
get one?"

"No," said Prof. Pierce, "you definitely don't."

"Dan got one." He looked at her. "Don't I get one? She's just jealous."

"Well, if she is, you don't get one. I owe her." Mr. Pierce, walked away
shaking his head.

Not much later, Eric came up and raised his eyebrows.

"You want to go?" she asked.

"If you want to."

"Let me thank Claire and Joan and get my purse." They made their way slowly
to the door and outside. Nobody threw rice. He drove them home -- to what
was suddenly *their* home.

Upstairs, they kissed. When he started trying to undo her dress, she broke
away.

"Tonight, let's do it this way. I'll get undressed and into bed, and then
you will." He didn't say anything, but he dropped his hands. She got her
night things from the small suitcase she had left in the bedroom closet. In
the bathroom, there were two sets of untouched towels. She took off her
makeup and took a brief shower. She daubed herself with cologne from the
suitcase, and then dressed in the sexy nightie and peignoir that had been
her last purchase.

When he saw her, he whistled. She walked past him and into the bedroom. The
sheets, like the towels, had never been used. She hung up the peignoir and
got into bed. She heard the shower, and then he came in wearing pajamas.

"Oh, Candy," he said. He got in beside her and leaned over to kiss her. At
first, his hand only stroked her face. Then, while the kiss went on, he
pushed the sheet down and caressed her through the nightie. Finally, he
broke the kiss and pulled back the sheet so only her feet were covered,
though most of him was. "That's a lovely nightgown. Would it be
hypocritical to say that and ask to take it off?" Actually, the purpose of
the nightie was to make him want to take it off. She raised her hips, and
he helped her take it off over her head.

"The pajamas, too," she said. "Sauce for the goose."

"Actually, I look better in them." He took them off while he said that,
though. He didn't look bad, and his erection was reassuring. She had
worried that he had stopped desiring her for some reason. This time, what
he kissed were her boobs. After a little bit, his hand stroked her thighs,
then the sensitive flesh between them. When she spread her legs, he stroked
between her lips. Soon he was on her clit. She got excited. She could feel
her body tense.

"Oh," she said.

"Oh, darling." He climbed between her legs. "Say yes." She had to laugh.

"I think I said that this afternoon."

"Say it again." His cock was touching her lips.

"Yes." He entered her smoothly, slowly.

"Oh darling. So soft, so smooth, so warm." He filled her. Then he was
moving in and out. That was exciting, and his excitement excited her, too.
The short conversation, though, had decreased her arousal. It rose again,
but not to match his.

"Oh!" he said suddenly. He thrust into her and she felt him twitch deep
inside her. A moment later, he had sunk down onto her. Well, he was a dear,
and he had wanted her, something she had begun to worry about. She hadn't
climaxed, but she would the next night. She patted his back.

"Sorry," he said and moved off. That was farther to move than it had been
in his twin bed. He had come in her, and some of it was leaking out. She
waited for a minute to let it drain, and then turned on her side and moved
off the wet spot and towards him.

That morning, they went to church. All the talk had persuaded her, and she
took communion. She felt that Rev. Lawrence gave her a special smile when
he handed her the piece of bread. Maybe it was for the newlyweds; maybe she
was imagining it. Afterwards, there were nearly as many people around them
as were waiting in line to shake the pastor's hand. Prof. Pierce and her
husband brought the twins up.

"Who's that?" Asked Mr. Pierce.

"Uncle Eric," both boys replied almost together.

"And who is the woman standing with Uncle Eric?" That puzzled them. Finally
Johnny answered.

"Miss Wharn."

"She sure looks like Miss Wharton, doesn't she? But really, she's Mrs.
Stewart."

"Bill," said Prof. Pierce, "don't obfuscate."

"Treading on your monopoly, dear? Very well. Yesterday, she married your
Uncle Eric. Since he's 'Mr. Stewart,' that makes her 'Mrs. Stewart.' Is
that clear?" The boys didn't look like it was.

"Well," she said, "if he's 'Uncle Eric,' can I be 'Aunt Candy'?"

"You want that?" Prof. Pierce asked. Yes, she wanted that. Prof. Pierce had
done her plenty of favors. She didn't owe her as much as she owed Eric, but
the boys were important to him, too. She wanted to be somebody the boys
liked.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, today they got more information, and more confusion, than is fit for
kindergarteners. This week is for you guys. Why don't you come visit us a
week from Wednesday? We can get the boys using your new name then."

"Prof. Pierce, you are more than kind."

"Well, if the guys can call you by a new name, can you call me by my name?
I'm not your professor any more. Can you call me Carolyn?"

"Certainly, Carolyn. What time Wednesday?"

"We try for 6:00, but I know that Eric, like Bill, fights the rush. Aim for
6:00, but if you're early ring the bell. If you're late, we won't start
supper without you." They went out, shook Rev. Lawrence's hand, and waited
in the doorway for the cars to come for them. The boys showed her what
they'd made in Sunday School. Eric's car followed Mr. Pierce's and she
walked down the stairs holding Paul's hand. When the kids were strapped
into their car, it rolled away and Eric drove up.

"Mexican food okay?" he asked in the car.

"Fine but I'm cooking supper." She did, they loaded the dishwasher
together. She thought it could easily fit breakfast dishes before she ran
it. They watched TV, with his arms around her. When they went to bed,
though, he wore his pajamas. He didn't try to remove her nightie, nor,
even, stroke it much. They did have a nice kiss. Then, however, he rolled
on his back and went to sleep.

In the morning, after her bout of morning sickness, she cooked him
breakfast and sent him off to work with a long hug. She showered and then
ran the dishwasher. He had left the car, and she stocked up on groceries.
He had left her 2 drawers in his 4-drawer dresser, and she arranged those
drawers. After lunch she went back to her old house to move more of her
stuff to the new one. She made 2 piles of summer clothes on her bed. The
first would be moved sometime. The second would be given somewhere --
Salvation Army, if the church didn't have a rummage sale before summer. Mom
had several cookbooks, and let her have the simplest, but she stuck to what
she knew for supper, pork chops.

The rest of the week went like that. She had her own shower and her own
breakfast after he had left. She had dinner ready when he got home. She
discovered that eating not-very-spicy dinners and eating them early
minimized her morning sickness. She cleaned one room a day, and
straightened the others. She stocked up on household supplies like TP,
soap, and paper towels. She even, following Prof. Pierce's suggestion, read
her English textbook. She wasn't going to go back to school until after the
baby was born, so she had lots of time. There was a good reason, though, to
be really up on things when she got back.

Eric came home, kissed her, praised her cooking, cuddled with her in front
of the TV set until after the news, kissed her good night, and slept beside
her. He didn't, though, make love to her. In her parents' house, she had
only brought herself off late at night behind closed doors. In this
apartment, she was beside her husband late at night. After a little
hesitation, she began to masturbate before lunch, again locked in the
bedroom. She needed to straighten the bed after using it that way, and she
took to leaving it unmade until then.

She saved a record of all purchases. Since she was replenishing stocks and
building new stocks where Eric had had none, it was a generous estimate for
what a week's grocery shopping would be, but she wanted a limit for budget
purposes, not an average.

Saturday, Eric brought her some forms to sign. They were to register her
signature on several credit cards and his bank account.

"Probably you should practice a few times. You are going to take the name
'Stewart,' aren't you? I should have asked." Since she had sort of married
him for that name -- if not for her, for her child -- he might as well take
it for granted. Eric was apologetic when he took things for granted, but he
took them for granted again the next time. Well, he had also forgotten
sheets, and that wasn't taking her for granted. The man was just learning
to be married. She got out a notebook and practiced her new signature. Then
she signed the forms.

"Look," Eric said, "it'll be a while until the new checks come. Your
signature will be good Monday afternoon or so, but the new checks will take
a couple of weeks. Until then, businesses might not be happy taking them. I
can make sure you have enough cash until then. Another possibility is
opening an account up here. Northern Trust is convenient for me downtown,
but not for you."

"Cash will be fine." She didn't think the local bank would get them new
checks any faster than Northern Trust would.

"I just don't know what groceries cost," he said. "I'm used to doing my
budgeting *post hoc*. I open my credit-card bills and see if I went under
or over budget the previous month."

"Well, we're both learning. I'm saving receipts, and I'll add them up to
see what the groceries cost. I'm not any more used to being married than
you are."

"That's right. Well, we have a little padding. Anyway, one more form gets
you on my health-insurance plan." He handed her the last form. She filled
it out and signed it.

That night, they cuddled again after dinner watching TV. This time, he got
up before she did. He had his bathroom time, and came out in a robe. When
she came into the bedroom, he was lying in bed.

"Do you really need that nightgown?" he asked when she had taken off her
peignoir. Well, it was the sexy nightie, and it hadn't seemed to make him
feel sexy the last 6 nights. She took it off and went to bed nude. When he
moved over for the kiss, he was nude, too.

While they were kissing, his hand stroked her boobs. When he moved his
kisses down to them, his hand went between her legs. He was much less
direct than she was when she was doing herself, and he kept to the same
slow pace when she would have sped up. Nonetheless, she was close, achingly
close, when he removed his hand and climbed between her legs.

"Oh, Candy." He spread her lips and fitted himself between them. He moved
slowly into her, so slowly that she lifted her hips to get more of him. "So
sweet, so smooth, so warm." He filled her and then pressed her down into
the mattress.

He moved slowly in and out, then less slowly, then quickly. Her arousal
spiraled higher with his strokes, but it hadn't reached a conclusion when
he drove against her and into her. "Oh, God, Candy," he said and pressed
her even deeper against the matress. She could feel him twitch inside her,
and then he was lying on her.

"Sorry," he said after a minute. He moved off to lie beside her. He cuddled
her while he fell asleep. She took a while getting to sleep herself.

Eric was a loving guy, and he *tried*. He got her more excited than she got
herself. What happened, or rather didn't happen, was that she did not
climax during sex. And Eric didn't seem to realize that. Which told her
something about Eric's experience with women. Well, except for weekends,
she could bring herself off when he wasn't there. One problem was that he
seemed to think of Saturday night as the time to make love.

They visited Prof. Pierce and her family Wednesday. She read a couple of
their books to the twins, and Bill took them upstairs after that.

"So," Prof. Pierce, (Carolyn, she had to remember to think of her as
'Carolyn') said while the rest of her family was still climbing the stairs,
"how is married life treating you?"

"It's still full of surprises."

"Yeah. Just wait until you get to parenthood. 'I didn't expect that,' is
the motto of the mamas. Dr. Spock tries to prepare you, but he doesn't have
the imagination that either of those 2 have."

"Eric tells me that you have some circle to help you." Eric was right
there, but he didn't try to take part in the conversation.

"They are more help for the younger ones. Not just younger in age, but
having younger kids. I had, unfortunately, been a mama for several years
when the Priscilla Circle was formed."

"Rev. Lawrence tried to warn us," Eric put in, "but he didn't have
questions for everything. And, too, Candy not only has to get used to being
married, but to being married to me." That was, despite her immediate
denials, part of the problem. Eric was a guy. Guys wanted sex. So why did
he only want sex once a week? He handed so much authority off to her, too.
She still didn't know whether she was paying too much or too little for
groceries.

When Bill came downstairs, he brought a load of wedding gifts.

"You guys are the least mercenary couple I've ever seen," Carolyn said. I
had all the packages opened the next day." She went up to kiss the boys
good night. Soon after she came down, it was time to go home.

As the weeks went on, she adjusted to being married to Eric. She moved in
more; she shared her grocery budget with him, and he approved. The checks
finally came, and so did the credit cards which showed her name. Eric
rejoined the choir. He went to rehearsals on Thursdays, and they no longer
sat together in church. He suggested going out, "to the movies or
somewhere" one week night. They settled on Tuesdays.

She hadn't really felt like a bride. Nor, especially when Eric kissed her
briefly, rolled over, and went to sleep, had she felt like a newlywed. She
was beginning to feel like a married woman.
The end
Married State - F
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2012/09/06

These same events from Eric's perspective:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/ste_03m.htm
Eric's experience

The first adventures of Candy with Eric:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/ste_01f.htm
"Why Me?_1"

Another story about another couple starting marriage:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Uther_Pendragon/www/Gjt/fos_05m.htm"> "Oh Canada! - F"
</a>


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