Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 THE MEASURE OF MAN
   An Epic by Gil Gamesh
   Chapter One
   As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night,
night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice.  Let your clothes be
fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your
hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the measure
of man.
   <><><>
   CAST OF CHARACTERS: Kieran Connor Stuart, 33 in story, 25 in flashback
Siobhan (Kelly) Stuart, 32 in story, 24 in flashback Kavan Kelly Stuart, 6
in story Arial Erin Stuart, 4 in story Kerry Lee Stuart, one month from
birth as story is told
   TELLING THE STORY: Kieran Stuart Siobhan Stuart
   (KIERAN)
   "Would you bathe the kids tonight?" Siobhan asked.
   "The full treatment?"
   "Yes.  They need it."
   "OK."
   I knew they needed a good bath.  Kavan and Arial had played outdoors
most of the afternoon while I was working in the yard.  Siobhan had sat in
a lawn chair in the shade, trying to be comfortable with our third child
almost full term and kicking in her.  I'd watched our kids as they played
with a neighbor's two kids, rolling in the grass, turning flips, chasing
each other until they were exhausted and sweaty.
   I carried Arial in the house and Siobhan followed with Kavan holding her
hand.  Arial smelled like a wet puppy.  I carried her through the house
into the bathroom while Kavan and Siobhan followed.  The little house had
an old bathtub, hardly large enough for one, but it had a large separate
shower.  Siobhan and I could enjoy it together or one of us could shower
with both kids.  As she grew larger and larger with the baby, I was usually
the one who bathed them in the tub or showered with them.
   I stripped Arial while Siobhan helped Kavan.  They were dressed almost
the same - socks and sneakers, briefs, shorts, and shirt.  The only
difference was the fly in Kavan's briefs where, if he didn't wait too long,
he'd drag his little dick out before he peed.  I could never understand why
he'd wait until the last second and then dance in front of the commode
trying to find it.  All too often, his aim wasn't as good as it needed to
be and I had to clean up after him.  Arial was never like that; she always
quietly slid her little panties down and sat on the commode with her legs
together while she peed.
   Kavan didn't wait to be told this time.  He walked over to the commode
and I lifted the lid.  He held his dick with both hands and squirted down
neatly for once.  Arial took her turn without a word and as usual looked
like a princess on her throne as she did it.  I took my turn while the kids
watched as usual.  I looked over at Siobhan, leaning against the wall, and
she was watching the three of us, a big smile on her face.
   "I'll fix us something for supper," she said.  "Do you kids want PB and
J?"
   It was their favorite Saturday night meal, peanut butter and jelly
sandwiches with a class of milk and some fruit.  She got two `yeahs' in
response to her question.
   "What do you want, Kieran?" she asked.
   "Anything.  Whatever you're having," I answered and she left us.
   I gave the kids the full treatment - shampooed Arial's gold curls and
Kavan's red tangles first, then washed their soft skin with a soapy cloth,
and rinsed them thoroughly before I took my turn.  They played around and
between my legs while I washed.  As usual, Arial watched closely when I
washed my genitals, especially when I slid my foreskin back and washed the
head of my penis.
   I dried them first and they both turned around so I could smack them on
their beautiful butts as I usually did before they ran off to find their
mother.  I dried off, combed my hair, and went down the hall to the
kitchen.
   Siobhan made grilled cheese sandwiches for us.  It was one of my
favorites, especially with extra-sharp cheddar cheese.  She gave me a dark
beer with mine and had a glass of milk with hers.  I'd brought a wash cloth
from the bathroom to wipe up the kids after they finished their PB and J.
   "Dad, why did Kavan's penis get stiff when you washed it?" Arial asked
out of the blue.
   "It's my dick, Arial," Kavan said.  "It gets stiff when Dad pulls my
foreskin back and washes it.  It feels good."
   "Well, Dad pulled his foreskin back and washed his and it didn't get
stiff," she said to Kavan.
   I thought Siobhan was going to spit out the mouthful of milk she'd just
taken.  She managed to swallow before she laughed.
   "I've told you kids why that happens," I said.  "It's so a man can put
his penis, his dick, in a woman's vagina and make his semen come out. 
There are little bitty swimmers in semen and one of them finds a woman's
egg and that makes a baby."
   "Is that what you did to Mom?" Arial asked.
   "Yeah, Arial, you dummy," Kavan said.  "That's the way Mom and Dad made
us.  That's the way they made the new baby."
   "Does it hurt?" she asked.
   "No, Princess," Siobhan said.  "It doesn't hurt.  It feels good.  Now
you two finish your supper and let your Dad read to you before you go to
sleep."
   "Can we sleep with you?" Kavan asked.
   "Not tonight, Son," I answered.  "Your Mom's having a little trouble
resting with the baby so big.  She doesn't need you two rolling around and
bumping into her."
   "Can I sleep with Kavan?" Arial asked.  "With no clothes on?
   "You can if you'll be good after I read to you," I said.  "No wrestling,
no cutting up, just be quiet and good and go to sleep?  Promise?"
   They both promised.  Sometimes they actually kept their promise.
   <><><>
   It was early but we went to bed just as soon as I finished reading to
Kavan and Arial.  Our bedroom was dark and we were quiet, resting, curled
up together spoon fashion.  We were both naked, as close together as could
be.  My hand was curled around Siobhan, holding her breast.  It was already
swollen, ready to become a milk source in about a month.  My cock was
pressed against her, soft but warm and swollen.  I wondered if the time had
come to stop having sex with her and start settling for the poor substitute
of my hand again.
   As was usual now, Siobhan was resting on her side, with a long pillow
between her knees and partly under her distended belly.
   "Are you sleepy yet?" I asked.
   "No, Kieran," she replied, "just a wee bit tired."
   "Mind if I talk to you?" I asked.
   She snuggled back against me a little more.  "You know it's OK.  That's
one of the things I like most about going to bed like this.  So we can be
together here in the dark and talk to each other."
   "Yeah," I said, "talking is nice.  But I want to talk about something
that's one of the best parts of marriage."
   "All the sex you want?" she asked.
   "That's important.  But doing what we're doing now means just as much to
me."
   "We're not doing anything, Kieran."
   "Nothing?  Your butt up against me, with nothing between us, curling up
together like this, with my hand on your breast - that's nothing?"
   "I apologize, Kieran; I think I do feel a little something."
   "That's my dick, Siobhan.  I'm talking about how this makes me feel."
   "Horny?"
   "When we go to sleep like this, spooned up, I'm as content as I've ever
been in my life."
   "I hope we'll feel the same when we're sixty," she said.  She sighed. 
"I can hardly imagine it.  I guess our sex life will cool off, as we get
older.  I hope just being close and held like this'll still make me happy
at that age."
   "Even if I'm bald and have false teeth?" I joked.
   "If you're worried about your teeth, get up and floss," she answered.
   "How do you and the baby feel?" I asked.
   "The baby's quiet now," she answered.  "I'm glad he's stopped playing
trampoline on my bladder.  I'm fine too.  Whether you believe it or not,
this third pregnancy has been the easiest of all."
   We had agreed to stop after two children.  We didn't know how this one
was conceived, three years after the last one, with Siobhan on the pill. 
We both loved the first two.  We couldn't have wanted children more perfect
than Kavan and Arial.  Even if this one wasn't planned, I was still as
happy to be having this one as I was with the others.
   "Are you OK with having this little accident?"
   "You don't need to worry about me resenting my child," Siobhan answered.
"I wish you could understand what it means to me to be a mother.  It's like
virgins and sex.  Virgins can never imagine what sex is like until they do
it."
   "Speaking of sex, is it time for us to stop?  I know your doctor says
it's OK as long as I'm not on top of you when you're this far along.  But
he did say I ought to be careful about how deep I stick it in.  Do you
still enjoy doing it with me?"
   She reached her hand around her protruding belly, between her legs, and
found the end of my cock.  She pushed back the foreskin to uncover the head
and rubbed it on the frenulum, just under the head.  I could feel an
immediate response as it began to swell and lengthen.
   "Silly," she answered, "of course I still enjoy it.  I can't think of a
time when I haven't.  You're a wonderful lover.  All I could want.  We've
been married eight years and I think it's as good now as it was the first
time."
   We were quiet then resting in the dark but not yet ready to go to sleep.
She continued to play with my cock down between her legs until it was fully
erect.  Finally she reached down, moved her hips somehow, and tucked the
head of my penis into her.  She was already wet and receptive.
   "Would you just put it in and then hold still?" she asked.  "I just want
to feel you inside me for a while.  I'll tell you when I'm ready for you to
fuck me.  Don't worry if I don't get off.  Lying this way, I don't think
you can get it in deep enough to hurt me.  It can't hurt the baby."
   We were both quiet for a while and I was thinking about how we'd met and
joined together years ago.
   "Do you remember how we met and then got married?  I think about it a
lot and how lucky I was to find you.  I wonder sometimes what my life
would've been like if I'd been stupid enough to lose you."
   "Yes," she whispered, "I remember it well.  And that's a line from
Hermione Gingold, not Maurice Chevalier."
   "Tell me a story?" I asked.  "Tell me what you remember about it."
   "Well, I certainly remember some of the things you did; I suppose you'd
call them horseplay."
   "Like what?" I asked, "I think you enjoyed kidding around as much as I
did."
   "Like the time we were coming down in the elevator with a bunch of our
co-workers and you were standing in front of me, looking down my dress. 
You started humming that ad that says something about umm, umm, good."
   "That's not as bad as what you did once when we went out to dinner with
some of those same people."
   "I guess I've forgotten that," she responded.  "What was it I did?"
   "We were sitting side by side and, just about the time we were finished,
you put your hand on my leg.  You slowly moved your hand up until you
touched my dick.  You knew what the reaction would be when you gave it a
few squeezes.  I got an erection and, when the others left, I had to beg
you to stay a little longer, pretending I wanted to talk to you.  What I
wanted was for my hard-on to disappear so I could get up and walk out."
   "Oh, yes, I remember," she said.  And even though I couldn't see her
face I knew she hadn't forgotten and was just teasing me.
   "Now, come on," I said, "Tell me what you really felt and thought when
we first met and got to know each other.  OK?"
   "OK," she sighed deeply again and started.  "I couldn't take my eyes off
you, the first time I saw you.  It might've been woman's intuition but I
had a feeling then that we'd be together the rest of our lives.  Are you
sure you want to hear this from my perspective?"
   I poked her gently, without saying a word, and she began her story.
   <><><>
   (SIOBHAN)
   We both worked for a company in positions that required us to go out of
town occasionally.  In March, there were five of us on an assignment: two
women and three men.  One of the men was married and had brought his new
wife along, so there were three women in total.  The other two guys were
single, good-looking, and very intelligent, but one was, I suspected,
probably gay.  The other of the single guys was the one I married later
that year.
   We were at work together when he asked me, "Siobhan, would you go out to
dinner with me tonight?"
   "Just the two of us?" I questioned.  "I sort of expected to go with the
group again."
   "I mean just the two of us.  Someone told me about a Cuban restaurant
that's very good.  I'd like to go with you, just you, this time."
   I looked him directly in the eyes; I had noticed before that he had
beautiful hazel eyes - appearing sometimes brown, sometimes green - and
held his gaze for a moment.
   "I should warn you I'm not interested in a casual relationship."
   "That's an interesting answer, evasive but interesting," he said. 
"Would you care to expand on that?"
   "I just mean I'm not interested in starting down a path that's going
nowhere.  Too many of you guys seem to be looking for a bed-warmer.  I've
no desire to start something with a guy who's looking for just fun and
games, who wants to avoid the possibility of a serious relationship."
   "Siobhan," he said, earnestly, "I'm twenty five years old.  I've screwed
around more than a little.  Even thought I was in love once.  Every other
time I knew there was no chance of any permanent commitment.  I've been
thinking about what I really want.  I'm looking for a different
relationship this time.  I guess I'd like to find one that might grow into
real love, a lasting commitment, a family.  All the things I've never had
with a woman before."
   This time he looked into my eyes, solemnly, and continued.  "You know
I've been thinking about you for some time.  You know I'm attracted to you.
I've made a fool of myself more than once around you.  The other guys have
started kidding me about it.  I know you're aware of that, aren't you?"
   I smiled at him, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him.  "Why
don't you ask Janet?  You know you're a very handsome man and she certainly
knows it.  She was sitting behind you yesterday when you dropped that stack
of papers and her eyes never left your rear end.  She even commented last
night about what a cute little butt you have."
   With his fair skin and blond complexion, he couldn't hide the blush that
spread over his cheeks.
   "Janet's a friend.  She'll never be more than that.  Now quit teasing
me. I want to tell you something, as honest as I've ever been.  Don't take
it lightly.  I didn't ask you because I'm looking for a quick fuck.  For
the first time in my life, I've met a woman I think I'd like to have
grandchildren with.  That's the sort of relationship I'm looking for.  Now,
once more, would you take a chance and have dinner with me?"
   "Yes," I answered, "I'd love to have dinner with you."
   <><><>
   A couple of months later, in May, we were assigned to work in a Gulf
Coast town, just the two of us this time.  The job was an emergency
situation that had to be completed in just a few days.  We both put in
twelve-hour days on Wednesday and Thursday and finally completed our work
Friday afternoon.
   We had booked separate rooms in a hotel near the beach, hoping to spend
some time relaxing in the sun on Saturday, before we returned home on
Sunday.  We had dinner at a restaurant specializing in seafood and were
almost too tired to enjoy the excellent meal.  When we went back to our
rooms, I was tempted to invite him in but I knew the time wasn't right.  At
my door, he kissed me with a tenderness and hunger that left me wanting
more.
   The ringing of the telephone awakened me.  When I reached for it, I saw
that the time was 1:30 in the morning.
   "Yes," I said sleepily.
   "I can't sleep," he said.
   "Damn it, Kieran, did you call just to tell me that?" I asked.
   "I've been awake thinking about us," he said.  "I want to talk to you.
Would you go for a walk on the beach with me?"
   "Yes."
   "I'm going to wear shorts and a shirt, with sneakers.  You'd better wear
something to protect your feet too.  I'll be outside your door in five
minutes."
   When I opened my door, he was waiting.  When we started toward his car,
I asked where we were going.
   "We're going down to the State Park area, where there're no houses,
where there'll be no one around this time of night.  Trust me, please."
   We parked near the entrance gate to the park and walked over the dunes
to the beach.  At the water's edge, he pulled his shoes off and tied the
laces together.  I did the same, smiling that he had somewhere learned to
do the same thing I had, to make it easier to carry sneakers when walking
on the beach.
   He reached for my hand and we began walking along the beach, away from
the lights of the developed area, into the darkness.  The moon was nowhere
to be seen and the faint starlight was barely enough to see where we were
going.
   "I've been thinking about our relationship," he began.  "We've been
going out together now for almost two months.  Being with you, just talking
to you, makes me happier than I would've believed possible.  But I want you
to understand what I feel and what I want with you."
   "You've left me wondering more than once," I said.  "I've felt it when
you pushed yourself away from me.  I mean that in more ways than one.  I
know you want me but you seem to reach a point where you have to stop, to
get yourself back in control.  I wish you would explain."
   "Yeah, I want you.  More than I've ever wanted any woman.  But I don't
want a casual relationship, one that's superficial and over in a few
months."
   "I told you when we first started I didn't want that either," I
responded.
   We walked quietly, hand in hand, in the darkness.  The surf was almost
non-existent, a soft murmur rhythmically creeping up on the beach.  The
night was warm and humid, smelling of salt and unknown sea creatures.
   "Let me explain what I do want.  I want you to think about it.  Someday,
if you decide you want me in the same way, let me know."
   "Go on."
   "First of all, I want a relationship that lasts for the rest of my life.
If I make love to you, I want you to agree that we'll be totally committed
to each other as long as we both shall live."
   "That sounds like marriage," I said.
   "Yeah, it does.  Marriage in the old-fashioned sense, a marriage in
which two people are joined into one.  But I want more than that.  I want
to surrender myself to you in total honesty.  I want you to do the same.  I
want you to see me exactly as I am.  I want you to understand me as a
sexual being.  I want you to let me know you in the same way.  I don't want
a woman who always expects me to be the sexual aggressor.  I don't want a
woman who's ashamed of her sexuality.  I want a totally-equal sexual
partner.  A woman who opens her body to me.  A woman who reveals her
innermost thoughts and desires with complete trust.  You know I'm not very
religious but there is a passage in the Bible that I do believe: `For this
reason, a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife,
and the two shall become one flesh.'"
   "Is that why you've pulled away from me more than once, when you
probably could've made love to me?"
   "Yes, it's the commitment I want this time.  I want you to give it a
great deal of thought.  I'm going to reveal to you much more of who I am
and the kind of life I want to lead.  At some point, I want you to make the
decision whether you can join with me in partnership.  Then I want to make
love with you.  I want it to be a spiritual as well as a physical union. 
I'll wait until a marriage ceremony if that's what you want.  But the
ceremony will be for others.  The first time we make love, I'll accept our
union as permanent, until death do us part."
   He stopped for a moment and pulled his shirt over his head.  He turned
toward me, waiting.  I guessed his intent, a test to see if I trusted him.
I pulled my shirt over my head too.  I had worn nothing underneath.
   We walked on again, holding hands, shoes and shirt in the other hand. 
The soft breeze was like a gentle caress on my breasts.  I could feel my
nipples harden.
   "Trust me, Siobhan," he said.  "This isn't the night for us to make
love. This is a night for us to be totally open with each other, to strip
away our clothes and our fears.  I want to place my life in your hands.  I
want you to do the same."
   "It's not easy to rid myself of uncertainty," I said.  "What you're
asking for is something that'll challenge both of us.  It's frightening,
because that level of commitment means that if either of us fails, then we
both fail."
   He stopped again, facing me only a foot or so away.  He dropped his
shoes and shirt on the sand.  I did the same.
   "We won't," he said.  "Believe in us.  We won't fail."
   He took both of my hands in his and pulled me against him, simply
holding me with his arms curled around me.  He was standing closer to the
water than I, on a sharply-sloping section of beach, and my face was level
with his.  He made no attempt to kiss me.  We stood like that for a few
minutes, his cheek against mine, my bare breasts against his chest.  I
could feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing and the beating of his
heart.
   When he pulled away, he reached down to his shorts.
   "May I remove these?" he asked.  "I want to wade out in the water with
you."
   "Yes," I answered, and reached down to my own shorts.
   We both pulled our shorts down at the same time and then stood looking
at each other.  I could barely see his penis, still hanging downward, but
standing slightly away from his body.
   Again, he took my hand and we walked out in the water.  It was still
cool, not yet warmed by the summer's heat.  We walked slowly, careful where
we placed our feet, until we were in water chest deep.
   "Just think," he said, "millions upon millions of years ago, a spark of
life was somehow created in this chemical soup.  And that spark developed
the ability to reproduce itself.  Can you imagine the trillions of
creatures that have sung to each other with the need to continue that life?
Now, we're here where it all began.  And I still feel the same life force
in me, singing to you, to join together and continue that life.  I've tried
to understand it since I was a kid.  I don't think I'll ever succeed."
   "I don't believe we'll ever understand it, Kieran.  Accept it; be glad
we're part of it."
   I moved against him again, my arms around his waist.  When his arms were
around me, I dropped my hands down to his buttocks and pulled him against
me.  I felt his penis, soft against my stomach.  When he lowered his face
to mine, I opened my lips to his.  We stood rocking gently in the moving
water, our mouths open to each other, our tongues exploring.  His hands
slid lower, down to my bottom, pulling me with even more strength against
him.  I could feel his penis hardening against me.  He moved backward for a
second, letting it lift upward.  When he pressed against me again, I felt
it swell and lengthen, hot and hard against my stomach even in the cool
water.
   Time stood still while we held each other.  He was right when he spoke
of our bodies singing to each other.  I wanted it never to end.  But
finally he stepped away from me.
   Hand in hand we waded back to the beach.  He shook the sand from his
shirt.
   "Would you let me dry you off?" he asked.
   I stood still, lost in heart-pounding desire while he wiped the salt
water from my body.  When I returned the favor, I found that his penis was
still erect.  I could just see the dark head at the end of the white shaft.
   "What will we do with that?" I teased.
   "I'm going to give you an honest answer," he said.  "I'll take care of
it later."
   "Will your hand bring it as much satisfaction as mine?" I asked and
reached down to hold it.  In the semi-darkness, I hadn't been able to judge
its size.  Now, hot and hard in my hands, I was amazed at its length and
girth.  I felt a hungry ache inside me, a need to feel it in me.
   Gently he pulled my hands away.
   "No, it won't.  But you've got to realize I meant what I said.  You know
I want to make love to you, here and now.  But I'm not going to do it.  I
want you to know me honestly.  I'm probably going to masturbate when I get
back to my room.  I hope you do too, and that you'll admit it to me
tomorrow.  I've told you I want total honesty.  But most of all, I want a
total commitment to each other.  I may regret it for the rest of my life
but unless you can join me like that, we may never have sex with each
other."
   He spread his shorts and shirt out on the sand and then placed mine
beside his.  He sat down on his and held out his hand to me.  I sat down
beside him.
   "You've just willingly taken off all your clothes with me and I've done
the same.  How do you feel sitting here nude with me?"
   "I've got no problem with nudity," I answered.  "I've been to topless
beaches in Europe.  It was a real pleasure to be that way.  I just wish I
could have gone to a nude beach."
   "Would you go with me to a cabin my brother and sister and I own, where
there's a group of nudists?  It's in the woods on private property and
we've never had any problems."
   "I'm not sure," I said.  "I don't want to get involved in anything like
swinging or group sex."
   "It's nothing like that," he said.  "In fact, it's quite the opposite.
All of the adults there are married and there's a bunch of children.  I'm
the only adult who's not married."
   "If we make the commitment we both want, I'd have no problem going with
you."
   He stood up and again offered me his hand to pull me up.  He handed me
my clothes.  I stepped into my shorts, watching as he did the same.  He
bent forward to zip his shorts, his penis still swollen and heavy.  We both
pulled our shirts over our heads.  I heard him take two or three deep
breaths.  Then he took my hand again and we started back.
   We walked slowly along the beach back to the car, still talking about
the sort of relationship we both wanted.
   In the car, driving back to the motel, I asked, "What do you mean when
you say making love?  You said earlier that you want the first time we make
love to be a permanent commitment."
   "I meant the first time you open you body to me, when my penis is in
your vagina.  I'm not ashamed to say when my cock is in your cunt.  I'm not
ashamed to use different names for our body parts.  I mean the first time I
have an orgasm inside you, when I come in your cunt.  Why do you ask?"
   "What we did earlier tonight was making love.  It didn't involve
penetration or orgasm but we both know we were showing our love for each
other."
   "I suppose you're right," he said, "but it was also learning about each
other.  I have no shame or guilt about my body and about being a sexual
human being.  I think you showed me, when you took off your shirt and
shorts, that you feel the same."
   "You also asked me to trust you, didn't you?"
   "Yes."
   "Then I want to reach that agreement with you, that it'll be a permanent
commitment the first time I let you put your cock in me.  But I'm also
going to place the burden of holding back on you.  I don't want you
seducing me.  I'll tell you clearly that I want you.  There'll be no
question of that.  I'm just not ready now.  I want to know you better
before that final step."
   "I agree."
   Just as we drove up to the hotel, I leaned toward him and said, "There
are other things we can do, to help us learn about each other, even without
the best part of love."
   In the hotel, I unlocked the door to my room.  As I turned back to him,
he started to take me in his arms.  I assumed he wanted to kiss me
goodnight.  I had never before invited him into my room.
   This time, I took his hand and led him into my room.  The bed was
rumpled, my nightgown still thrown across the foot.  I pushed him toward a
chair.
   "I'm going to take a shower.  Alone," I said.  "Salt and sand aren't
very comfortable in bed."
   When I came out a few minutes later, wearing a white cotton robe, he was
still sitting in the chair.
   "It's your turn," I said.
   "I don't have a robe to put on when I come out," he said, smiling at me.
   "Wrap a towel around yourself, if you wish."
   I was brushing my hair when he came back a few minutes later, a towel
wrapped around his waist.  The bulge underneath the towel drew my eyes. 
When I looked at his face, I noticed that his hair was damp and tousled.
   "Sit here on the foot of the bed," I said.  "Let me brush your hair
before it dries."
   He did as I asked, sitting quietly, legs together.  I had to try more
than once before I was able to make his hair look close to the way he wore
it each day.  I stood in front of him, straddling his legs, my bathrobe
gaping open.  I knew he could see that I had on nothing underneath.
   When I quit, he reached for my hand, for the hairbrush.
   "Would you let me brush your hair?" he asked.
   I might have been mistaken but I would have sworn that his hand was
trembling against mine.  I sat down in a chair and he stood behind me.
   "This red hair is one of the things I love about you," he said, gently
brushing my hair.  "Thanks for showing me that you're a real redhead."
   He brushed quietly for a minute.  "Your breasts are even more beautiful
than I imagined they would be.  I don't know if I'm different from other
men but I like to make love to a woman's breasts with my mouth.  I know my
mother breast-fed me but this isn't some Freudian complex.  I just like to
make love to a woman with my mouth."
   "I don't think that's unusual, is it?" I asked.
   "Maybe not.  I don't know how other men feel about women in that
respect. I'm not just talking about your breasts.  I want to taste you all
over.  How would you feel if I held your foot and sucked on your big toe?"
   "Sounds kinky but I don't think I'd stop you."
   "And if I kissed you in the hollow just above your collar bone?"
   "That's nicer," I laughed.
   "On your leg, behind your knee?"
   "Fine with me."
   "If I laid you back on the bed, put a pillow under your hips, spread
your legs apart, and kissed your cunt, what would you say?"
   "I wouldn't stop you.  I'd probably hold you by the hair to keep you
there."
   "I'm serious about this," he said.  "I have something like a hunger to
make love to a woman with my mouth, as well as my hands and my cock.  One
of my fantasies about you is burying my face between your legs and using my
tongue to make you come over and over.  And I want to do it with the lights
on.  I don't want a woman who thinks she's `not pretty' down there or who
thinks oral sex is dirty.  When you're hot and getting all juicy in your
cunt, I won't mind getting it in my mouth.  It'll just make my cock that
much harder."
   "If you're trying to find out how I feel about oral sex, you can stop
worrying.  I've had a little experience with it.  I love it.  I like to
receive it; I like to give it."
   He continued slowly brushing my hair, almost dry now.  "What if I asked
you to sit in a chair in front of me and masturbate yourself to an orgasm?"
   "I've never done that with a man before."
   "Think of it as showing me how you like to be touched, of teaching me
how to bring you to an orgasm, if you don't have one before I do when we're
fucking."
   "Would you sit in a chair in front of me and jack off while I watch?" I
asked.
   "Sure," he responded.  "That's the sort of thing I want us to be honest
about.  Even when we get married, I'll probably still jack off but I hope
just not as much.  I don't want you to be upset about it, to think I'm
unhappy with you if I do it on occasion.  I don't want to feel guilty if
you walk in on me doing it.  I hope you'll even do it with me sometimes. 
To me, that's just one more great variation on the sexual theme."
   "How would you feel if we made love some night and you came before I did
and I used my hand to bring myself off?" I asked.  "You might be tired and
sleepy.  That's the way it works, you know.  Sometimes I can come with just
plain fucking, perhaps even more than once.  Other times, I might not even
care if I have an orgasm.  Women are like that.  Sometimes we can be
perfectly content with having sex without having an orgasm.  But I know
there'll be times I couldn't just turn over and go to sleep without one. 
Would you be bothered if I used my fingers to finish the job?"
   "That's the way I would want it to be with us," he responded.  "I don't
want to have to jump up and wash my cock before going to sleep because it's
covered with your juices and mine.  I'd love to snuggle up against you,
even if it's messy, and then we can use my hand or yours to bring you off.
And after we're both done, I'd love to curl up with you, with your bare
butt against me, spoon fashion, with one of my arms curling around you,
holding one of your breasts, while we both go to sleep."
   "I'll agree to that, but only if you'll let me curl up to your butt
sometimes, with my arm around you, holding your cock or balls," I answered.
   "I don't know whether married life can be like that or not.  Is it just
a fantasy?" he asked.
   "No," I answered, "I think married life can be whatever we want to make
it, if we agree on what we do."
   "I'm not the kind of man who wants to get into the kinky aspects very
much," he continued.  "I can fantasize about tying you up, with your legs
spread, and using my mouth on your cunt but only if you agree to let me do
it.  I don't get any thrills out of bondage and discipline, or
sado-masochism, or rubber outfits and shit like that.  I'm not ever going
to give you a vibrator for a Christmas present."
   "We certainly feel the same about that," I answered.  "But how would you
feel about talking about our fantasies, maybe even acting them out?"
   "I'd love that," he answered.  "I have lots of fantasies.  It might take
me years to tell you about them and then carry them out.  Do you have any
you'd like to play out?  Start with something simple we can do tonight."
   "Well, I've always wondered what it would be like to be a man, to have a
penis and testicles, especially a penis that I could wrap my hand around
and see how it feels to masturbate," I responded.
   "Say dick and balls."
   "OK, dick and balls then."
   "I can't change you into a man," he continued, "and I sure as hell don't
want to."
   "No, but you could let me do it with your dick.  How about it?  You lie
back on the bed and let me jerk you off."
   "You haven't done that with a guy before?" he asked.
   "Well, yes, but not with the lights on.  I've had boy friends in high
school and college.  I'm not a virgin, you know.  But I haven't had very
many lovers.  I'm not much of an expert on men."
   He handed me the hairbrush and I felt my hair to see if it was dry
enough.  My hair was but I could feel the moistness between my legs.  I had
never dreamed that having a man brush my hair could be such an erotic turn
on.
   "If you want to do it, I'll be your teacher tonight," he offered.
   "You said you wanted us to be honest with each other.  Would you believe
my cunt is almost dripping just from having you brush my hair?"
   "So what?" he responded.  "My cock would be standing almost straight up
if it wasn't for this chair back it's pressed against."
   I caught his hand and pulled him around until he was standing in front
of me.  I could hardly believe the bulge behind the towel wrapped around
him.  I pulled the towel away and threw it on the bed.  I watched as his
cock expanded and lifted itself until it was pointing straight at me and
then lifted further until it was standing up at an angle to his body.  When
I first saw it, his foreskin covered the head almost completely, with only
a small circle of skin at the tip open.  As it lifted and expanded, it drew
back until only the ridge of the glans was still covered.
   "At least he's a gentleman," I said.  "He knows enough to stand up and
take his hat off in the presence of a lady."
   "Who are you talking about?" he asked.
   "Your penis, your cock, dick, peter, John Thomas, whatever it is you
call it.  Do you have a name for it?"
   "I've never felt the need to name it.  It goes with me wherever I go and
comes when I want it to."
   "And I'll bet he's good at making the ladies come too.  Now would you
turn around?" I asked.
   "Why, what do you want me to do that for?"
   "So I can do a butt evaluation.  Remember I told you Janet liked your
tight little butt.  I just wanted to see if your tush, your buns, your ass,
or whatever you want to call it, is as sexy as Janet said.
   He turned around so that his back was to me and I gave his butt a good
inspection.  It was remarkably smooth and tight and muscular.  Janet would
have been pleased with it.  While he was turned around, I stood up,
shrugged off my bathrobe, and then turned him around.  For the second time,
we were totally nude in each other's presence, but this time we were in a
well-lit hotel room, not on a dark beach.
   We both stood silently, only a few feet separating us, looking at each
other.  I saw a very handsome young man, with blond hair on his head but
very little on other parts of his body.  His pubic hair was the same color
as that on his head; the hair on his arms and legs was so light as to be
almost invisible.  He still had the slimness of a young man, a well-muscled
chest, flat stomach, strong legs, and, most evident of all, an erect cock
waiting to be dealt with.
   I can't say what he saw but I knew my hair down below was just as red as
that on my head.  My skin was even fairer than his and I couldn't tolerate
much sun and I never got a tan.  My breasts weren't large but they didn't
droop and I could go without a brassiere sometimes.  The areolas on my
breasts were a light red color and the nipples, standing out now, were a
darker red.  And all over my face and shoulders and chest he could see my
freckles.
   "Do you like what you see?" I asked.
   "You're even more beautiful than I've dreamed.  Believe me, there've
been dreams of you, with a wet spot on the bed."
   "Do you sleep in the nude?"
   "Yeah, I've slept like that for years, especially in warm weather.  When
it's cold, I'll pull out some flannel pajamas."
   "I do the same, except that I have some flannel nightgowns.
   "I'd love to spend a cold winter's night with you."
   His eyes had hardly left my breasts since we were face to face.  "What
are you thinking?" I asked.
   "You may not believe it but I was comparing the color of your areolas
and your nipples with the color of your hair - up top and down below.  I
don't think I've ever seen a woman so beautifully color-coordinated."
   "Well, you can thank my parents for the genes that gave me red hair and
fair skin.  But we both need to catch up on sleep.  I'm tired after three
days of hard work and very little sleep so far tonight."
   "I don't think I'm going to sleep much with this in the bed with me," he
said as he put his hand on his penis.
   "Then let me have my fantasy.  I'll take care of it.  When I'm finished,
we'll go to bed together.  And if it pokes its head up again tonight, I'll
chase you back to your own room."
   "No, that's not fair," he answered.  "I always have erections while I'm
sleeping.  I don't know how many because I can't count'em when I'm asleep.
And I usually wake up in the morning with a hard-on.  Promise you won't
chase me out unless I try to do something more than you jacking me off."
   "I won't chase you out if you're good.  Now, stretch out on the bed with
a pillow under your head and close yours eyes.  I'm going to sit on your
stomach, facing your feet, and pretend that I'm the one with the aching
hard-on."
   He crawled up on the bed and then said, "I think you might want to have
a damp towel nearby.  I'm going to make a mess.  And if you have any baby
oil, use that.  I usually do."
   I grabbed the damp towel he had dropped and rummaged in my suitcase for
a bottle of oil.  When I found it, I held it up for him to see.  It wasn't
baby oil; it was oil that I used on my elbows and feet and sometimes other
areas.
   "Will this do?" I asked.  "I like to use it on my skin when I've been
out in the sun or wind too much."
   "Sure," he answered, "If it doesn't hurt your skin, I don't think it can
hurt me."
   At first I lay down on the bed, with my head beside his middle.  I took
his cock in my hand and held it straight up, looking at it.  I gently bent
it from side to side and from front to back.  I moved down to his
testicles, cupping my hand under his scrotum and gently lifting them.
   "I'm no connoisseur of cocks," I said, "but I think yours rates as
prime. I'm glad you're not circumcised.  The cut ones I've seen looked
mutilated.  If we have boy children, I want them to be like you.  And I'm
no expert on jacking off guys.  I've done it for a few poor guys to put
them out of their misery."
   "You don't have to be an expert.  As long as they get off, most cocks
are happy, even if a rank amateur does it."
   "Yes, but I want to do it the way you want it done.  I'm not used to
dealing with an uncircumcised one.  Tell me what to do."
   "Sure.  Just wrap your hand around it, about midway between the head and
the base."
   "Like this?" I asked, as I tried to encircle it with my hand.
   "Yeah.  Now move your hand slowly up as far as you can."
   I followed his instructions.  "The foreskin slides back over the head. I
don't touch it with my hand."
   "If your hand is dry, it's best not to rub it on the head.  That's
almost as sensitive as your clitoris.  How would you like it if I tried to
rub your clit with a dry finger?"
   "I'd chase you off," I answered.
   "Do you think it'd feel better if I used a wet tongue?"
   "That's your fantasy.  You wait your turn."
   "Now move your hand down as far as you can go."
   "It pulls down on top but it's attached, sort of under the head.  Is it
supposed to work that way?"
   "Yes, now stick your finger in your mouth and then rub it around the
area just between the head and the regular skin on the shaft."
   When I did, his cock jumped reflexively in my hand.
   "That's the underside of my foreskin.  It's very sensitive.  When you
pull down on the skin until that area's tightly stretched, it's even more
sensitive."
   "And what about the place underneath, where the foreskin is still
attached to the head?"
   "Do the same thing there.  Wet your finger, pull down until the skin on
my cock is stretched tight, then rub it."
   I did as he asked and again, his cock seemed to move on its own accord.
   `Now, combine some of what I've told you.  Written instructions.  Pull
down on skin to cause tension on the inner foreskin and frenulum, rub the
last couple of inches with hand or mouth.  How long do you think I'm going
to last before I squirt all over you?"
   "I don't know," I replied.  "May I try it?"
   "Sure.  Put some of the oil on your hand and on my cock.  I'll warn you
again you'd better be careful where you point it.  I'm going to make a big
mess on something."
   I moved so that I was sitting astride him, with my pussy just about over
his navel, facing toward his feet.  I knew he could feel how hot and wet I
was.  I squirted the oil generously over his cock and smeared it all over
his cock and balls.
   At first, I just moved my hand up and down, holding the skin on the
shaft of his cock.  As my hand movements became faster, I could feel his
stomach muscles underneath me becoming tense.  Then I decided to see how
long he would last if I used the other technique he had shown me.  I used
my left hand to pull down on the skin on his cock, and my right hand to
slide up and down.  Just as he had told me, the foreskin stayed retracted
and my oil-slick hand was moving up and down on the head of his cock.
   After a minute or so of this, I could feel his body become even tenser.
I could see his leg muscles become harder and I felt myself lifted up a
little as his buttocks tensed.  His cock seemed to grow even larger and
redder.  His testicles had been hanging down between his legs a little but
they'd slowly retracted around the base of his cock.  I could also hear him
breathing heavily.
   Suddenly he erupted.  The first white string of semen flew out of him
and landed between my breasts.  The second spun out and hit a little lower.
The spurts continued, each a fraction of a second after the previous one,
until I was dripping with his come from my breasts down to my pubic hair.
Some of the last landed on his stomach.  The final ones merely oozed out
and I used my hand to milk them out until they dropped.
   Watching his performance, I realized how hot and wet my cunt was.  I
knew I wanted to have his cock doing that inside me for the rest of my
life.
   I turned around, still on top of him, straddling his thighs.
   "You were right when you said you'd make a mess," I said.
   "If you'll hand me that damp towel, I'll wipe it off you," he replied.
   Instead, I reached between my breasts and picked up a little of his
semen on my finger.  I stuck the finger in my mouth and cleaned it off.  It
didn't really taste that bad.  But I wasn't sure I wanted so much of it in
my mouth all at once.
   "How does it taste?" he asked.
   I reached down and picked up a little more and extended my finger to his
mouth.  He looked me directly in the eyes and opened his mouth.  My finger
came out clean.
   "Is this a test to see what I'll really do with my mouth, whether it
involves my body fluids, or yours, or ours in combination?" he asked.
   "No, not really," I replied.  "I just can't imagine most men want their
mouth on a woman's cunt when it's full of their own come."
   "It's called a cream pie in pornographic stories," he said.  "And I'm
telling you the truth.  I love to go down on a woman, either before or
after we fuck.  And besides, I already know what my come tastes like.  I
licked it off a girl's breasts once."
   "Damn, Kieran, you're going to have to tell me about that some day."
   On impulse, I lay down on top of him and rubbed my body against his,
smearing his come over both of us.
   "Do you want to stay like this until we're glued together or should we
wipe it off?" I asked.
   He put his arms around me and held me.  After a few minutes, I reached
for the towel.
   <><><>
   When I finally finished telling the story of our beginning, Kieran's
cock was between my thighs, only half-hard now.
   "Kieran, aren't you going to finish what you've started?" I asked.
   "No," he answered.  "I don't really want to get off tonight, when you
don't.  I'm content to be close to you.  Just being like this with you - it
doesn't get any better."
   "I wish you would, Kieran," I said.  "Just a slow, quiet little fuck
here in the dark.  I want to feel you come in me.  Even if I don't, I'll
sleep better."
   "You sure?"
   I didn't answer.  I reached down between my legs and started playing
with his dick.  When it was hard again, I tucked it inside me and he gave
me the slow gentle fuck I wanted.  I held his hand in place, his two middle
fingers on my clitoris, and helped him to give me a quiet little orgasm
just before he came.
   "Thank you," he said.  "That was nice."
   "It made me think of the first night we spent together."
   "What night?"
   "That first night we spent together, at the hotel on the beach.  I
didn't sleep anymore after I jacked you off.  I just pretended to.  When we
spooned up against each other in bed, I could feel your cock pressed up
against me.  It might not have been hard but it was still hot.  I wanted to
push you over on your back, get you hard again, and crawl on top of you.  I
wanted you inside me more than I'd ever wanted anything."
   He chuckled softly.  "I always wondered how you could go to sleep like
that.  I didn't sleep anymore either.  Every time I felt another hard-on
starting, I'd turn over.  You'd spoon up against my butt and put your arm
around me.  If you'd felt down a little lower, you'd have found a hard
cock."
   "So we were both pretending to sleep," I said.  "Doesn't it seem kind of
silly now?  That we didn't just go ahead and fuck each other to sleep that
first night?"
   "I suppose," he responded.  "But I wasn't sure you were ready.  I mean,
for the sort of commitment we'd talked about.  You know I'm not good at
picking up a woman's subtle signals.  After the next weekend, I knew you
wanted me the same way I wanted you.  When we did finally did it, a few
weeks later, I knew it was right."
   "We were both scared of the commitment.  Seems dumb now, doesn't it? 
Anyway, the second time we slept together, two nights in one weekend, that
was nice too.  And the next weekend, when we finally fucked each other to
exhaustion - that made even better memories."
   "Good night, Siobhan," he said, "and good night to you, Kerry or Kerri,
whichever you are."
   "And to you, Kieran," I said.  "Do you care which it is?"
   "No, it's our child.  I'll love it no matter what."
   TO BE CONTINUED:
   1
   1
   
  
The_Measure_of_Man_V2_Chapter_01