THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

Chapter Four

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 Stuart, 33 in story, 26 in flashback; Siobhan Stuart, 32 in story, 25 in flashback; Kavan Stuart, 6 in story; Arial Stuart, 5 in story; Kerry Stuart, 5 months in story

TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart

(KIERAN)

“Dad, what’s ‘fuckin’ around’ mean?” Kavan asked in a loud voice.

I had showered with him and Arial while Siobhan got Kerry ready for sleep. I was sitting on the commode, still naked, while I dried Arial’s hair. She was standing in front of me between my widespread knees, facing me, still naked and warm and fresh from the shower. I had the hairdryer in one hand and a brush in the other, drying and untangling her golden silk-like hair.

I had the lid of the commode down and my dick and balls were right in front of Arial. She was looking down at them and giggling and reaching out with one little finger to touch my dick. I was pretending to swat her hand away.

The shower was easily large enough for the two kids and me and they loved to shower with me. I usually shampooed their hair first, then scrubbed their bodies, and then let them play while I took my bath. I’d been trying to get them to learn to wash themselves and they would do a halfway decent job on their front and leave the back to me. Almost every time Kavan washed his little sprout, he’d pull back his foreskin and rub it with the soapy cloth until he got an erection. I always told him to wash behind his ears and he knew I meant to skin his dick back and wash under his foreskin.

Arial usually enjoyed his performance. She was even learning to wash between her legs and I suppose I was glad. I felt guilty somehow if I washed her there and she seemed to enjoy it too much. Funny, it didn’t bother me if Kavan loved me to touch his genitals but I was uncomfortable when Arial did too.

Tonight, the two little trouble-makers had wanted to bathe me. I sat on the shower floor while they shampooed my hair, hoping I’d still have hair when they finished. They weren’t too rough on my face except for getting soapsuds up my nose. They made me lift my arms and they each scrubbed one with a soapy cloth and then moved down on my chest.

When they told me to stand up, I thought I’d better finish but they’d insisted. I should have known what they’d try to wash first. Arial wrapped her little hand around my dick and told Kavan to wash behind my ears. I couldn’t help but grin when he wrapped his hand around it too, slid the foreskin back, and they both started giggling. After a minute or two, they both dropped their soapy cloths as well as any pretense of just washing and used their hands on my dick and my balls.

I almost stopped them when I started to get an erection but then I decided to let them do what they wanted to. Siobhan and I’d talked more than once and concluded that we’d try to be honest with them when it came to anything sexual. And so I let them see what a man’s penis looked and felt like when it was hard. Besides, I was having as much fun as they were. When it was pointing outward and upward, I moved under the shower and rinsed it off and then let them get a good look at it. Kavan said “Wow” and Arial echoed him, “Yeah, wow.” I chased them out of the shower and then turned the water on cold for a few seconds to get rid of it.

I dried myself while they both struggled with towels and then I finished drying them and the floor. Arial knew the routine so she moved between my legs when I reached for the hairdryer and brush. When I made a circular motion with my finger, she turned around with her back to me.

Kavan was sitting beside the bathroom sink, up on the counter, still naked, his legs bent knees upward, elbows resting on knees, hands cradling his face. He looked like a leprechaun with red spikes from the gel I’d let him rub on his hair. Between his thighs, his little sprout was still distended from the scrubbing he’d given it when the three of us were showering. His little pouch with two marbles was hanging loose between his thighs.

Arial seemed to be staring at Kavan’s display of his male equipment. I gently slapped her on her beautiful little butt and she turned and flashed a smile at me. The slap was my routine signal that I was through with her hair and she could go help her mother get Kerry to sleep. I assumed Siobhan was giving him his usual nightly feeding. Kavan and Arial loved to sit and watch Kerry nurse at their mother’s breasts. Of course, I did too. I knew I’d miss it when she weaned Kerry. Some nights, if he didn’t fall asleep while nursing, Siobhan would let Arial hold him and rock him to sleep. She skipped out of the bathroom.

“Where did you hear that, Son?” I asked, when she was gone.

“Jimmy said it. He said his Mom and Dad were screaming at each other. She said his Dad was fuckin’ around with another woman and she was going to kill him.”

That wasn’t exactly news to me. Jimmy was a neighborhood kid Kavan played with occasionally. Jimmy’s parents were well known to have a troubled marriage and Siobhan had told me she’d heard rumors of infidelity.

“Fucking is a word some people use to describe what a man and a woman do when they make love with each other, Son,” I said. “When you and Arial came in our bedroom a couple of months ago, you saw me and your mother making love. I explained it to you then. It’s what we do when we want to show our love for each other. Some people call it fucking but I don’t think that’s a good word for it.”

“When you had your dick in Mom’s pussy – that’s fucking?” he asked, still with brows wrinkled in confusion.

“When you asked your Mom about it I think you asked why I had my penis in her vagina,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. I just get confused sometimes. I don’t understand why I’m s’posed to call it her ‘gina. You said it was OK to call it a pussy or a cunt sometimes too.”

“And your penis is a dick and a peter and a prick and a cock and lots of other names too,” I added. “I don’t know why it’s called by so many names, Kavan. Your knee’s always your knee. It doesn’t make sense to me either.”

He giggled. “And sometimes you call it my sprout.”

“And it’s your spout when you pee,” I said. “Like the spout on Mom’s teapot.”

He giggled again and then the frown returned. “So if Jimmy’s Dad is fuckin’ around with another woman, he’s putting his dick in another woman’s pussy, not just in Jimmy’s Mom’s pussy?”    

“Yes, if he’s actually fuckin’ around, that’s what he’s doing.”

“And she might kill him for doing it?”

I didn’t like the way our conversation was going but I thought it best to keep on being as honest as possible with him.

“No, I don’t think she really meant that. She’ll be very angry and hurt but I don’t think she’ll kill him. Sometimes it destroys the love that two people have for each other. Sometimes it causes them get a divorce and they separate and go different ways.”

He sat on the counter, elbows on raised knees, looking at me. I sat on the commode, elbows on knees, leaning forward, looking at him. I wondered why he seemed to be so troubled by what he’d heard.

“Are you fuckin’ around with another woman, Dad?” he asked finally.

I smiled at him, realizing what was bothering him.

“No, Son, I’m not. You know I always try to be honest with you, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, since the first day I saw your Mother, I’ve never made love to any other woman. I love her too much to hurt her, Son.”

He sat looking at me again, not saying anything, just looking, and I wondered what he was thinking about.

“Please don’t do anything to hurt her, Dad,” he said. “I love both of you. I don’t want you to ‘vorce from her.”

I held out my arms to him. He slid down and almost threw himself at me. I wrapped my arms around him.

“Son,” I whispered in his ear, “I made a commitment to your Mother before we got married. I promised to love her for the rest of my life, to have children and grandchildren with her. Trust me. She’s given me three children. I’ll still be with her when you and Arial and Kerry make her a grandmother.”

He gave a big satisfied sign and wrapped his arms tighter around my neck.

<><><>

It was my favorite time of the day – any day - when all three kids were in bed for the night and Siobhan and I were alone with each other.

I was stretched out on the bed still naked, watching her, propped on pillows, my hands resting on my stomach, my dick resting on my balls which were cradled by my thighs, my ankles crossed.

Siobhan was still naked too, brushing that glorious red hair of hers. It was cut much shorter now than it was when we married but it was still beautiful. Sometimes I loved to brush it for her; sometimes I loved just to watch her do it. She finally managed to restore order to chaos and get the tangled strands to fall in soft natural curls. With her arms lifted, her breasts were raised and as beautiful as ever to me, even if the strawberry nipples were darker now. Her breasts were larger and heavier, now that she was nursing Kerry, and faintly laced with blue veins. The hair on her mound was curly too, especially when untrimmed. Tonight, I could see two round curls, almost circular, on each side. I loved to use my thumbs to part the red hair down there so I could get my tongue in her. She put down the brush and reached for the nursing bra that she wore at night, with pads inside to catch any overflow.

“Could you wait a while to put that on?” I asked.

She looked at me, a touch of a smile on her lips. “What do you want, little boy?” she asked. “I don’t think Kerry left you anything tonight.”

“That’s OK. I’m glad he’s got such a good appetite. I’m hungry for something else.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Come to bed and I’ll show you.”

“Did the kids get you all hot and bothered in the shower?”

“She told you?”

“Yes.”

“Is it OK? I feel kind of guilty letting them see me and touch me like that.”

“It’s OK. They saw it a couple of months ago anyway, when they caught us making love. They seem comfortable when we’re all naked together. If it’s OK for them to see your dick when it’s soft, I don’t see what it’ll hurt if they see it hard once in a while.”

“I think it’s going to be a little difficult to raise these kids,” I said, “letting them see us naked and trying to be honest about sex. It seemed like it would be so simple when we first got married.”

“Did Kavan ask you what ‘fucking around’ meant?” she asked.

“Yeah, he did. Did you put him up to it?”

“Not really. He asked me when we came back from the playground. I didn’t want to answer him in front of Arial so I told him to ask you.”

“Well, he asked it in front of Arial anyway. I waited until she left before I answered him.”

“Why did he want to know? Where’d he hear something like that?”

I told her about my conversation with Kavan and how I’d tried to handle the situation, assuring him that I wasn’t fucking around too.

“What he really wanted was assurance that you’d be here for him, you know. He probably thought that if Jimmy’s father got killed for it, you would too if you were doing it. He wanted to know you wouldn’t be killed and he would always have you for love and security.”

“You’re probably right. Anyway, I think he understands I’ll never fuck around with another woman as long as I live.”

“Don’t say that, Kieran. If something happened to me, I’d want you to find another woman. I wouldn’t want you to have to live alone, especially if the kids were young.”

“Don’t even talk about something happening to you. I don’t want to think about that,” I said. “I made a commitment to you and I don’t intend to break it.”

“Kieran, we made a commitment to love each other, to have kids and then grow old together, and watch our kids give us grandkids. I don’t expect you to have sex with nobody but me for the rest of your life, especially if I’m not around.”

“Oh, you’re going to bring me home an eighteen-year old girl some day, a cute little virgin, and let me teach her how to make love?”

“Sure, when you bring me an eighteen-year old boy virgin and I get to teach him?”

“Damn, would you really do it?”

“I don’t know, Kieran. Let’s quit being silly.”

The thought of teaching an eighteen-old virgin about sex must have registered with my dick. It began to swell and elongate on my thigh. I suppose Siobhan saw the change.
 
She looked at my face, then downward at my cock, and then back at my face. “Do you remember what it was like the first year or two we were married, before I got pregnant with Kavan?” she asked. “When I used to wear that night-gown, that ivory-colored one you liked so much, and you’d get so serious when you took it off me?”

“Yes, I remember. It was always the same. I always felt like you were too beautiful and I didn’t deserve you and my heart would almost beat out of my chest when I was getting you naked.”

“And now it’s just the same old woman every night, isn’t it?” she asked. She was grinning and I knew she was teasing me. She could never be like the same old woman to me.

“I remember one special time,” I said, “when we came back from my uncle’s funeral. When we got home, I wanted you so much. I don’t know what I’ve have done if I couldn’t have made love with you.”

“Do you remember what I told you just before we went to sleep?”

“Yes, especially that,” I said.

“That was when you told me about your most memorable sexual experience, wasn’t it?” she asked. “Was it really that memorable?”

“Yes, it was. Time doesn’t dim some memories. I remember it well.”

She smiled. She knew where that line came from. We’d seen the movie together before we married. I loved all the old movie musicals and Gigi was one of my favorites.

<><><>

Before we married, I tried to imagine what our life together might be like. Now, a year later, the reality of it was so much more than I ever imagined it would be. I never ceased to marvel at what my life was like. Simply getting ready for bed with her was always wonderful. Then being in bed….

"Kieran, would you tell me a bedtime story?" Siobhan asked. "Tell me about the most memorable sexual experience you've ever had."

She was in an ivory-colored nightgown, brushing her hair, that beautiful red hair, before coming to bed. Her hair had been long since I had first met her, down to her shoulder blades on her back, down to her breasts in front. Whenever she wanted to cut it short, I pleaded with her to keep it long. I promised to shampoo it and then brush it whenever she wanted. She soon learned how erotic the experience was for me.

She turned to look at me. Her face was beautiful even with a dusting of freckles all over, lightest on her forehead and heaviest on her cheeks and nose. She wore makeup at work to cover the freckles. She left it off when she was alone with me. I always felt privileged to see her real beauty; I couldn’t understand why she covered it up from others.

She saw me looking at her face and opened her red lips in a smile. I could never understand why she put on lipstick whenever we went out together. More and more she was willing to wear just a light gloss with little or no color in it. None was needed. Her smile always revealed her upper teeth. She thought her two front teeth were too large and made her look like a rabbit. I thought they were perfect for her beautiful mouth. 

She pursed her lips, like a rabbit, and I smiled at our private joke. Her eyes were sparkling as usual. I could never decide whether they were more blue or more gray. The color seemed to change depending upon the light or upon her mood. 

When she came out of the bathroom, I was stretched out of the bed, wearing just short pajamas that I knew would probably end up under the bed again. Before she put on her nightgown, she stood in glorious nudity and lifted her arms to her hair. While I watched, she used a small towel to dry it. Her breasts, uplifted by the movement, were small soft mounds so perfect there was no crease underneath them. The small circles capping them were the same color as her lips. The pointed peaks were always an invitation to my lips. I could never understand why she felt her breasts were too small. They were a perfect fit for my mouth and hands.

While she stood like that, arms up, hands on her hair, I enjoyed my visual feast. Her hip measurement was more than her breast measurement and she had complained once that her butt was too big. All I saw was a woman, with wider hips to give birth to our children. The hair on her Mound of Venus was the same fiery red as that on her head. It always seemed to curl from each side toward the middle. I teased her that it was trying to cover up the place where she kept her pearl. She knew I could part it with my tongue and find her pearl anyway. 

I offered no protest when she put on her nightgown. I knew I’d have the pleasure of taking it back off shortly. She sometimes put it back on during the night.

I waited for her to let me help in completing her nightly ritual. She turned on her hair dryer and tossed her red mane around in the stream of air. When she stopped and asked me the question, I knew what my reply would be. I watched until she stopped and brought me her hairbrush. It was what I had been waiting for.

More and more she was comfortable with us together in the nude. We spent part of each weekend without clothes, reading together, doing crossword puzzles, listening to music. I especially liked it when we could act like two monkeys, as she called it, and groom each other. I learned to shave her legs. She learned to scrub my back and help me get rid of the occasional clogged pores that had plagued me there since puberty. I learned to shampoo her hair and then blow it dry while brushing it. 

On one hand, I wanted her to be so comfortable with me that she’d never bother with clothes when we alone together. On the other hand, I loved the pleasure of putting one hand under her nightgown and exploring her body before I finally removed the gown. I think she was the same way with me. She loved to play with my cock and balls while they were covered by my shorts. She always acted surprised when she found something big and hard sticking out.

"I can’t think of the one that’s the most memorable, Siobhan,” I finally answered. “There’ve been so many. So many women. I don't know how to choose," I teased.

"Could I encourage you?  If I promise to give you something in return? Like an even more memorable experience?"

"Well, once when I was a young man, I spent an afternoon making love, or perhaps I should call it lust, with a woman who was just as hungry for me as I was for her. Would you like to hear that one?”

“Is there lots of sex in it?”

“Sure. It couldn’t be memorable if it didn’t have lots of sex in it.”

<><><>

We were already lovers before that afternoon. But we hadn’t made love for almost two weeks. We had just made a long tiring trip together. With her period and the funeral, neither of us was in the mood.

As we entered the house, the summer air was hot and humid, awaiting the coming of an afternoon thunderstorm. The windows were down and the door to the bedroom was closed. I left the door open and raised the windows, trying to catch some movement of the air. I could have turned on the air conditioner but I wanted to hear and see the storm when it broke.

We were both tired and hot from the trip. I could feel a small trickle of sweat running down the hollow of my back until it disappeared into my pants. I could see a faint, moist sheen on her face.

She stood at the foot of the bed, looking around with obvious relief, just to be alone at last. With both hands, she pulled the comforter off the bed, leaving only the pillows on the cool cotton sheets.

I went toward her and cupped my hands around her face and kissed her, an open-mouthed, wet kiss, feeling the first faint rousing of desire. She put her arms around my waist, her hands curling around to my buttocks, pulling my crotch close against hers. I knew that here in this bed, in the space we were going to make sacred with our love, every thing was going to be perfect.

I unbuttoned her shirt and stripped it and her brassiere off her. She kicked her shoes into a corner. As she bent to unbuckle her belt, her hair fell down over her naked breasts, a tangle of curly red hair against the cream-colored mounds of her breasts. Something about the movement, the bent head, her hands loosening the tightness around her waist, unzipping her pants, went right to my brain or perhaps my groin. I pulled her pants and underwear down together, and she stepped out of them.

I went down on my knees in front of her, burrowing my head in her belly, moving toward the red triangle between her thighs, licking her and kissing her.

"I can't wait for it any longer," she whispered. She was holding my head, pressing me against her and then pushing me back. "Come. Get in the bed with me," she said.

I had my own clothes off in a second. I pushed her back on our bed, so that she was lying at the very foot of it. I pulled her legs apart and looked at her naked vulva and the way it was breathing, moving, the golden red hair on the mound above shining, the pink lips below glistening. She put her fingers there and pulled her cunt open for me.

“Why do you look at me like that?” she said. “I haven’t had time to shave between my legs in the last month. I’m all hairy down there.”

“Yes, you are, and, damn, I do love it. You’re always beautiful to me. Even your hairy cunt.”

Looking at her, my cock was hard almost instantly. I stood over her, holding it with one hand, slowly stroking it, while she looked at it hungrily.

"I want you inside me." she said. I looked at her face and it seemed for a second too exquisite to be human, just as her cunt seemed too savage, too animalian, too secretly different from all the rest of her to be human. We moved back on the bed together, rolling over, kissing and rubbing against each other naked.

I went down on her again, spreading her legs wide. This time she didn't resist but she couldn't keep still. She started thrashing under me. I was licking and kissing and driving my tongue into her cunt, drenched in her clean, salty smell, parting the silky red hair and licking the pink inner lips and the hard bump of her clitoris, until she was going absolutely crazy. She pulled at me again, and told me to get on top of her.

I turned around and changed our positions, with her on top of me, with her vagina only inches away from my mouth. I felt her mouth take hold of my cock, sucking strong and passionately. One of her hands was cupped around my testicles and the other around the base of my cock, while her mouth moved up and down on the head. She pulled down on the skin around the base, putting an exquisitely-painful tension on the head when she sucked on it. My cock seemed to me to be larger than ever before, almost bursting with the blood being pumped into it. She took my cock deep into her mouth, almost into her throat, and I wondered how much of it she could get into her. As if she had read my thoughts, she lowered her head once again, taking it deeper than before, and gagged as the head went into the back of her throat. She stopped moving for a moment, breathing deeply, and then resumed, this time taking less of it into her mouth. But she quickly found a way to make her efforts even more unbearable. She began to suck strongly on the head of my penis with each upstroke, bringing her tongue into contact with the sensitive glans, sliding her tongue around and around the rim each time her mouth left my cock.

I plunged into her cunt, stroking the depth of it with my tongue, really wet with her, saturated with her. With my tongue pressed flat against her, I licked the soft inner lips of her vagina, smelling and tasting each time the fragrance of her secretions. With my tongue pointed, I sought out the hard protrusion of her clitoris and circled it again and again. I even stuck my tongue out as far as possible, using it like a small penis, to penetrate her. At first she held herself above me and I had to bend my neck, bringing my lips and tongue into contact with her. But as I continued, she seemed to relax, to melt, to flow downward onto me until my head was resting on the bed and her vagina and thighs pinned me there.

I felt that I had entered an altered state of consciousness, a state of such sexual arousal that I knew I couldn’t endure it much longer. My heart was pounding and I was breathing in huge gasps each time I took my mouth away from her.

Suddenly, I felt her hips thrust against me, her delicious little cunt contracting, this little mouth of hers shuddering over my mouth, her whole body burning up. It went on and on, and I could hear her moaning as she sucked harder on the glans of my cock. She came with a chain reaction of contractions and I knew I was on the verge of coming too.

Quickly, she reversed her position and, with strength I would not have believed possible, yanked me on top of her. She pulled my face to hers, her open mouth seeking mine. My face was covered with a mixture of her lubrication, my saliva, and our sweat. Her lips felt bruised and swollen.

She reached down between our bodies, groping for my cock. She held the wet head against the opening into her and it seemed that her cunt somehow sucked my cock completely into her. I savored the feeling for a moment or two, knowing that at any moment I was going to explode inside her. I withdrew until the head of my cock was just inside her and then returned it to the depths. Quickly, I lost all consciousness of restraint, plunging into her with long, hard strokes, feeling my orgasm build and grow within me. When I came, the instinctive need to deposit my semen as deeply as possible took control. As I poured out spurt after spurt deep within her, I ground my pubic bone against hers, my balls against her ass-cheeks, trying with some desperate need to push my whole self into her.

About mid-afternoon, I awoke slowly, uncertain about what had brought me out of a deep sleep. We were still laying side by side, like nested spoons, both naked, in the center of the bed, as we were when we had gone to sleep. Her buttocks were pressed tight against my stomach and my arm curved around her waist, my hand holding her breast. Our bodies, wherever they touched, were moist with sweat.

I was not surprised to wake with an erection; it happened often at night and early in the morning. But this time, my erection was held between her thighs, warm and moist except for the head, which protruded further.

As I became more alert, I realized that something, some action or touch had awakened me. My curiosity was aroused. Whatever it was, it had stopped. I lay quiet for a few minutes, waiting, pretending to be still asleep.

Then I felt her touch, so soft as to be almost not there. Her finger brushed against the head of my penis as she slid it into the space between her cunt and my cock. I could tell from the touch that she had inserted her finger deep enough into herself to reach the lubrication there. She withdrew it and then moved it in a slow circular pattern around her clitoris. Then, still slick with the lubrication, she reached down to my penis, to the very sensitive area just under the head and repeated the same slow circular rubbing. She repeated the pattern:  inserting one finger for lubrication, rubbing her sensitive spot, then mine. Again. And again. I felt as though I had discovered some deep private secret of hers and my cock became even harder, throbbing with each beat of my heart. I wondered if she knew I was awake while she did this. And then I realized that she either knew or wanted me awake, that she wanted me again with a sexual hunger as great as my own.

"I want to fuck you," I whispered into her ear. "I didn't say I wanted to make love to you or with you. All I said was that I want to fuck you. It's what I want. And it’s fucking, not making love, that I want. This time I don't care what you want. If you get yours, that's all gravy. But what I want is my meat and potatoes."

She pressed her soft buttocks against my stomach and took hold of my erection with her hand, stroking gently. I pulled away from her.

"Turn over on your stomach and put your ass in the air. I want to fuck you from behind."

She rolled over on her stomach, her face hidden in the pillow, but with her legs tight together. I realized then that she might have misunderstood my intentions.

"Don't be afraid. The only thing I want is my cock in your cunt, as hard, as long, and as deep as I can get it."

She slowly began to lift the middle part of her body, keeping her head on the pillow, spreading her legs wide, exposing herself to me as never before. Her soft rounded buttocks separated, revealing the puckered opening there and the fine red hairs there and around the sides of her vagina. The late afternoon sun poured through the open window onto our bed and over us, directly onto the offering she was making to me. The opening into her looked small, as though it would be unable to hold my cock.

I quickly moved behind her. With my left hand, I held her by her hip. With my right hand, I encircled my penis and stroked it toward the head a few times. A drop or two of clear lubrication came out and I rubbed it over the head with my finger. I milked it again and again, until the head of my penis and part of the shaft was slippery all over. Only then did I move against her and place the head against the small opening to her vagina.

I pushed just the head of my cock into her and was instantly seized with an awareness of the heat and wetness and smoothness of the living flesh, which seemed to swallow it so eagerly. She held herself absolutely still, awaiting whatever I wished to do. Very slowly, gently, I began to slide just the head into and out of her, penetrating just a couple of inches, teasing her with it, to see when she would ask for more. She seemed frozen, locked in a state of tension, waiting for something to break. When I felt the first strong contraction of her orgasm on the head of my cock, I knew what she had been waiting for. I held myself still, with just the head inside her, and I rode out the succession of contractions that gradually weakened and died away. At the end, she felt more open, more relaxed to my penetration. I waited for her next move.

It wasn't long before she leaned back a little against me, so that my penis slid deeper into her. I resumed my slow gentle strokes and, little by little, I began to work it into her. I could feel the deeper recesses open and with each stroke a little deeper than the last I buried my cock in her. But before the last inch of the shaft was hidden, she seemed to pull away, to moan as the head pushed against her deepest recesses.

"Does it hurt you?" I asked.

"No, it feels too damn good. But I think you’ve hit bottom."  Her answer was muffled by the pillow where she still rested her head.

"I'll be slow and easy. But I'm telling you now that I don't want to stop until it's in so deep that you can't tell which one of us the balls grow on."

I began to use long strokes, sliding it out until just the end of the head held the lips of her cunt slightly parted, and then sliding it in until I felt the resistance at the deepest end. Each stroke seemed to gain a fraction of an inch and to bring forth a low moan from her. Gradually I could feel her cunt loosening and opening and swallowing everything I could give her.

So at last I came to the goal I wanted, my stomach against her buttocks, the front of my thighs against the back of hers, my balls so close to her that I could feel them against the soft mounds on each side of her cunt. She reached back with one hand, holding my testicles, holding me immobile, with my cock buried to the depths in her. With the other hand, she began a series of circular motions, around and around on her clitoris, bumping the shaft of my penis on each stroke. I felt another succession of contractions as she came again.

I said, "Now I'm going to fuck you."
 
<><><>

Afterwards, I found cold beer in the refrigerator for both of us. I drank one bottle, standing beside the bed, without putting it down. Lying in bed, she drank hers slowly, never as fond of it as I was, but grateful for the cold wetness. I opened a second for me and crawled into our bed with her again.

I lay flat on my back, propped up by pillows, beside her. We were both damp with sweat. I reached out with one hand, covering the soft mound of hair between her thighs, my index finger seeking out the opening into her. She was wet and slippery with the combination of our secretions. My finger slid easily into her. She was as hot and juicy as I had ever felt her.

"You had better stop before you start something you can't finish," she said.

"I'll stop when you tell me you've had enough. I guess I was a little crazy when I finally got it all the way into you. I wanted to split you wide open and at the same time I didn't want to hurt you. I've never seen my cock buried in your cunt like that, from behind. It stretches you so wide, I know it must hurt, but all I want is to get it in deeper."

"Don't worry about hurting me. If you're slow and gentle like you were this afternoon, I can hold anything you want to give me."

She reached out her hand, playing with my balls, holding my cock. It was completely soft now, and it seemed swollen, almost bruised, and tender to her touch.

We lay like that, playing with each other, slowly drinking beer. I could smell the combined scent of my semen and her secretions. The smell was like some fresh green plant or fruit, slightly repelling and at the same time appealing. 

When I finished the second beer, I knew I had to relieve a full bladder. Her hand, still toying with me, had combined with the beer, to cause my cock to swell to a half-hard erection.

"I've got to piss," I said. "I think you had better stop playing with that so I can use it for its other purpose.

I rolled off the bed and started for the bathroom. I was surprised when she followed me. We had both generally been relaxed and casual about relieving ourselves. But those were times when one was in the bathroom shaving or something and the other wanted to pee. This time, she followed me and leaned against the sink while I stood, legs apart over the toilet.

In spite of the pressure from all the beer, I couldn't start. I didn't know if it was from the half-hearted erection I had, since I usually couldn’t urinate until it was relatively soft, or if it was a case of bashful kidneys, an inability to start if someone was watching.

She saw my discomfort but waited, still watching me. I stood there, cock in hand, feeling like a fool, but absolutely unable to do anything.

"I learned a trick that might help when I was baby-sitting with some little boys once. They were just in the process of being trained. When I would take them to the bathroom and stand them up to the toilet, they would sometimes get hard and couldn't pee. Can I show you?" she asked, grinning.

I was game for anything. "Sure."

"Put both hands on the wall in front of you and lean over the toilet."

I did as she said and she stood behind me, holding my cock in her hand. She reached to the sink and turned the water on warm, letting it run slowly. I waited but nothing happened. 

"Just look at the water running and think about that, nothing else," she said.

I tried to do as she said. Then she cupped her hand under the warm water and poured it over my penis. Again, and I felt the urge strengthen. Once more and I began. She held it pointed downward, into the bowl, as though she had done this for herself all her life. I drilled a heavy stream into the water in the bowl while she held it. I thought I would never finish and, with her holding it while I watched, I hoped I never would. But finally I was through. She even shook it gently a couple of times, up and down, to get rid of the last drops. I was amazed at her performance.

"Let me wash it for you," she said, and pulled me to one side, while she sat down on the toilet.

She rubbed the soap into lather and then, with just her hands, began to wash my penis and testicles. I stood, legs apart, willing to let her do anything if she just didn't stop. My cock was still in a state of half-hardness or half-heartedness, swollen, but with no inclination to stand up. My balls were hanging loose, not drawn up, as they usually were when I was sexually aroused. 

"I love to play with you like this," she said, as she continued her soft washing. "You've got a beautiful cock, you know. Any woman would like to get hold of one this big, long enough and wide enough to stretch her to the limit. And it's got such a beautiful shape. You're a straight arrow, you know. No bends to the side or up or down. Just straight and to the point. And that big, smooth head..., I love it."

She stroked forward, sliding the foreskin over the head, and then stroked back, watching as it revealed the head again. With her fingertips, she circled and stroked the rim surrounding the head, causing me to shiver involuntarily. "Does that feel good?" she asked. I nodded; I could hardly speak.

She reached under with both hands, to play with my testicles, cupping them, rubbing then gently with soapy fingers.

"I love your balls, too, you know. It's strange to me, a woman, to think of these things between your legs, always there, hanging, in the way. I'm glad you're not as hairy as most men; I don't want any thing to hide all this from me."

All too soon, she reached for a washcloth, wrung it out in warm water, and began to clear away the soap. When the last traces were gone, she looked at my cock as though proud of what she’d done and, leaning forward, held it up to her lips for a kiss. She waited for a moment, as though looking for a reaction, and when none came, she leaned forward again and took the head in her mouth. She sucked as strongly as she could and at the same time pulled her mouth away, grazing the sensitive rim with her teeth. In spite of what we had already done, I felt a renewed surge of sexual desire. My cock lifted, almost of its own accord, toward her. "There!" she exclaimed.

She reached for the baby oil, coated her hands lightly, and rubbed it all over me, over my slowly-stiffening penis, my testicles, and the area between my legs. When my cock was standing by itself, without her help, she stood up and, still holding it, pulled me toward the bedroom.

She grinned at me. "That's what I wanted."

In out bedroom, this time, she took charge. She pushed me down on our bed, tugged at me until I lay straight, and stretched out in the very middle. She straddled me and tucked an extra pillow under my head. "Now you can watch," she said. "I'm going to fuck you this time."

She positioned herself over my middle, on her knees, her legs spread wide, and lowered her body until her cunt came into contact with the shaft of my cock. Her weight pinned my penis against my stomach, the head almost at my navel. We both watched as she began to slide up and down on it, my cock totally outside her, the distended lips of her cunt exposing her soft inner flesh to my hardness. She slid forward until the head of my cock was hidden behind the bush of her pubic hair and I could feel the hard bump of her clitoris rubbing against the sensitive area under the head of my cock. She moved from side to side, head back, eyes closed, lost in her own sensations, leaving me to watch. Then back down the shaft, sliding, until I could feel her wetness on my balls. I wanted more than anything to bury my cock in her but I held still, letting her have her way. She continued her movements, back and forth, side to side, and my cock grew harder, filling until it was almost painful to have it pinned against my stomach.

At length, she looked down and moved back, letting it rise at an angle above my stomach. She raised herself higher, on her feet now, her legs bent, letting me see her cunt, open, pink, glistening. She held my cock with one hand, straight up and, positioning herself over it, began the long delicious slide down. Her cunt was wet, juicy might be an appropriate word to describe it, wet with her own secretions and the dissolved semen from my last orgasm. When my cock was buried to the hilt in her, I could feel a warm flow out of her, downward, on my balls and between my thighs. She held herself frozen on me, motionless for a minute or so, face upward, eyes closed, lost in her own sensations. I waited.

Finally, she began to lift and lower herself, upward until just the head of my cock was still in her and downward until our combined pubic hair blocked any view of our coupling. She held on to my shoulders, balancing on hands and feet, while she moved.

With no effort being expended on my part, with the heat and wetness of her cunt, the pleasure of the sensations I felt was indescribable. I lay spread-eagled on the bed, arms out to the side, making no effort to help her, content to let her use my cock for her own pleasure, since mine was surely as great as hers.

Her strokes quickened, and I knew that she was about to come. When she was on top of me, her orgasms were totally within her control and she always came with strong contractions that seemed to leave her drained of energy. Now she groaned as she sank down on my cock to the hilt, pressing her pubic bone against mine. I knew that this was the trigger she sometimes used to tip her over the edge into coming. She had described to me once how the feeling of fullness, of being stretched to the limit, with the simultaneous pressure on her clitoris, was enough to bring on her orgasm. I held still under her, feeling the contractions around the base of my cock, strong at first, then weakening and fading away. She collapsed on top of me, all tension gone out of her body.

I decided to take charge, to use her just as she was, to bring about my own orgasm. I held her by the hips and lifted her up slightly, just enough to give me room to thrust upward into her. I began to slide my cock in and out, meeting almost no resistance. Her cunt was as wet as I had ever known it and loose now, accepting whatever I shoved into her. I held her still, plunging in and out, fucking her with no trace of gentleness or patience. The orgasm I sought eluded me. After coming twice already in one afternoon, the lack of friction in her well-fucked cunt left me short of my goal. I began to pull down on her hips as I shoved upward into her, ramming the full length of my cock into her again and again. 

Her teeth were fastened on my shoulder and I could feel her biting me. She groaned each time our bodies slammed together. At length, the groans turned into a kind of whimper.

Finally, in desperation, I wrapped my arms around her and rolled over on top of her. She started to spread her legs but I stopped her. Without ever taking my cock out of her, I pulled her legs together, with my legs spread over hers. With a couple of short strokes, I knew I had what I wanted. The position limited the length of my strokes but increased the pressure of her vagina on the head of my cock.

So I gave her only the head of it, just within the lips of her cunt, slow stroke after slow stroke. I held myself, at arms length, raised above her, watching each time I slid it into her. She, too, raised herself on her elbows and watched, as fascinated as I with my seemingly-endless search for one more release. I felt her tense the muscles in her legs and buttocks and the pressure on the head of my cock became no longer bearable. I felt the inescapable beginning of my orgasm and I held still, content to let the last of my semen be poured out just barely inside her.

When the last contraction had faded, I raised up over her, on my knees, my cock still hard, covered with our combined juices. She reached up with one hand, cupping my testicles. We both watched as one more heavy drop of semen oozed out of my cock and dropped on her stomach just below her navel. She pulled me back down toward her and spread her legs.

"Put it back in me," she said. "Let me feel it go soft inside me. Let me hold you."

I did as she said, sliding my cock slowly back into the depths of her. Her arms curled around my back and her legs wrapped around mine. I rested most of my weight on her, my stomach against hers, my chest pressed against her breasts, my cheek against hers.

<><><>

Siobhan was curled up against me, one leg thrown over mine. She had been silent all the time I had been telling my bedtime story. The cool night air blew in over the bed and over us, taking away the last heat of the day.

"You certainly have a remarkable memory for detail. Are you sure it happened just like that or have you been just making it up?" she asked.

"You asked for my most memorable sexual experience. And now you question whether it was actually that extraordinary and how I can remember it that well."

"Well, I suppose you should be able to remember it," she looked at me and smiled, "especially since we just did it this afternoon. But now I've got something to tell you that might make it even more memorable."

"What did you want to tell me?" I asked.

"Remember that you said it was my decision about when we had children, that you were ready any time I was?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Well, I stopped worrying about birth control months ago. According to my calculations, my ovaries should have released an egg either yesterday or today. As soon as your little sperm find it, I think you're going to make me a mother."

I looked into her eyes, those beautiful blue-gray eyes, and all I could do was smile.

<><><>

“When we’re old like Maurice Chevalier and Hermione Gingold, do you think we’ll still enjoy what we’re doing now?” Siobhan asked. “The movie made it seem like he’d forgotten.”

“I just hope we’re still doing it,” I said. “Anyway, they weren’t real lovers; they were just pretending to be. I’d rather imagine me as the young French guy and you’re the little girl. ”

“Who?”

“Louis Jourdan and Leslie Caron, doing it French style.”

“What? Soixante-neuf?”

"Tish!, when you speak French, it drives me wild, Cara Mia!"

“Oh, Gomez, chacun à son gout.”

“Damn, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Aïe! Aïe! Tu as mis une faluche dans mon grille-pain!”

“Shit, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Just seeing if it would make you come.”

“Oh, fuck! Stop squirming!”

“I’m not squirming. You are!”

“I’m not, you are.”

“I am not. You’ve got it in all the way. Just be still.”

“It’s hard.”

“Yeah, I know. I can feel it.”

“I mean it’s hard to be still.”

“You promised.”

“What?”

“You said you’d be still. You said you just wanted to put it in and be close to me without a condom.”

“Well, quit sticking your tongue in my ear and I’ll quit squirming.”

“Oh, it’s all my fault, is it?”

“Yeah, your cunt’s so hot and juicy and feels so good I think my balls are going to explode.”

“Well, you’d better not let anything explode inside me, not unless you want to be a daddy again. I’m not ready to be a mommy for the fourth time.”

“Why are we whispering?”

“To keep from yelling?”

“No, seriously.”

“Because I’m not sure the kids are asleep. Kerry’s a little fretful tonight and I don’t want to wake him up.”

“I love it when I’ve got my face beside yours and I can smell your hair and feel your cheek against mine.”

“And I love it when I feel your big dick stretching my cunt and your chest mashing my breasts flat. But you’d better lift up a little or you’re going to get the sheets wet with milk.”

“Yeah, well, I love it when I come and squirt a load in your cunt and then you come and your cunt squeezes out the last drop or two of my semen.”

“Don’t talk dirty.”

“That’s not dirty.”

“I know. But it’s sexy and I’m horny. I think it’s time for you to take your dick out and put a condom on it.”

“Do I have to, Mommy?”

“Yes, my little boy, you have to unless you want to be a daddy again.”

“Would you put it on for me, Mommy?”

“Oui, mon petit garcon.”


TO BE CONTINUED:
