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WRAPPED stretch little the hot

 

"Wrapped Attention" {Pendragon} (MF rom 1st)
IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to
read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do
something else.

This material is Copyright, 1996, 1997, Uther Pendragon.
All rights reserved. I specifically grant the right of
downloading and keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal
reading so long as this notice is included. Reposting requires
previous permission.

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

WRAPPED ATTENTION
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
Part One: Monday

Alex's determination and experience were enough to focus his
attention on the lunch conversation. When the lunch ended,
however, he forgot business for the day. He had promised Tabitha
the afternoon before she took the train home for Christmas
vacation. She was waiting when he drove up to the dorm at 1:25.

"You're early," he said. "Eager to get home?"

"The train isn't 'till seven. I'm eager to see you. You're
early too."

"I was eager to see you. I'll miss you." He was mildly
disappointed that Tabitha hadn't echoed his sentiment. But he
was twice her age and always believed, despite her denials, that
he was twice as invested in the relationship. Love would happen
to her again but not to him. That it had happened to him, that
this young beauty reciprocated his love, was enough and blessing
indeed.

He took her suitcase and put it in the trunk. She carried a
purse and wore a backpack which looked a little incongruous with
her dress and good coat. "Eaten?" he asked.

"No."

"Restaurant, McDonald's or chez moi?"

"Yours, if it's okay."

"Mi casa es su casa." Then he wished that he had said it
differently. All that remained of his French consisted of a few
tags. She really was studying Spanish.

"I may take you up on that, someday." She might take him up on
that this afternoon, if she could keep up her nerve.

"'Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you
in.' Mine is where, when you want to go there, they want to take
you in."

"Don't talk to me of home."

"Honey, I'm near your dad's age. I'm divorced. If I'd had a
kid, and a divorced man my age had come buzzing around, I'd not
have acted snotty to him. I'd not have grilled him on his
business and whether it was stable. I'd not have asked whether
his sexual orientation might be a bit ambiguous considering his
long time without a spouse.

"I *would*, however, have looked for somebody to break his
kneecaps."

"You're only supposed to be understanding of me. They *said*
that you could visit over Thanksgiving. I thought that they
would get to like you, not try to drive you off."

"Sorry. The thing is, I love you; and sometimes *I* want to
protect you from this antique who has been taking advantage of
you. I can see why others who love you might always feel that
way."

"See, they can ruin our Christmas spirit; and they are more than
a state away." It was nerves that were ruining her Christmas
spirits, but she couldn't say that. He'd ask why.

"With you beside me, nothing ruins my spirits, Christmas or no.
So did you finish your paper?"

"I turned it in this morning. I had to say 'No Alex until I'm
finished' or I would never have finished. You do understand?"
It sounded awfully selfish to her.

"I'm *supposed* to be understanding of you. And I never want to
stand in the way of your studies. Was it a good paper?" That
was a source of conversation until they got to his condo.

She cooked, proud to show her skills and feeling proprietary of
that small corner of his space. She made a large Western
omelette, and he ate a nominal serving to be with her. She
declined his offer of wine with the meal.

He could see that she was antsy about something but unready to
talk about it. "Well," he thought, "let's see."

"Did I mention," he asked her, "why I had to go on a business
lunch before I could pick you up?"

"I already knew. You're a very important person, and everybody
wants to talk with you."

"I wish I was that important.

"What actually happened was that the head of Agency was arguing
again that we are overpricing associational groups. I and the
chief actuary weren't going to give in, but we had to listen
politely." He went on telling her tales from his office, giving
her his voice without requiring active thought from her.

She finally dodged out to the hall to get her backpack. "Did you
get me a present for Christmas?" she asked.

"I did, and it's wrapped. Do you want me to get it?"

"Not now. I want you to tell people that I gave you this for
Christmas." She handed him a box which obviously held a tie. He
thought the phrasing odd. She knew that his discretion was on
her account. "Don't I get a kiss in thanks?" She could get a
kiss for any reason or none.

She knew that she could re-decide now. She could see no reason
to go back. Then Alex's lips were on hers, and his arms were
holding her. She could see all the reasons to go forward. She
pulled his face down toward hers.

He could taste her through the omelette. She was youth and
beauty and love and Tabitha. He kissed her hard, but she pulled
him down harder. When his hands smoothed her back and buns, she
ground herself against his beginning erection. He had insisted
that she set the limits and not change them in the heat of
passion. Now, the limits were her panties. He could do anything
that he wanted without removing her panties. He would take his
time, but he would give her something warm to remember in the
train through the cold fields.

He kissed her mouth and ear and neck and mouth. He petted her
back and buns and breasts. He removed her dress and was startled
at a half slip in this weather. That did, however, give him much
more skin to kiss. He was kneeling, kissing her ticklish belly,
when he unsnapped her bra. He rose and stood back. He could not
bear to unveil that perfection without his eyes being on it. She
had been shy about that once, and he was glad that she had gotten
over that.

She never understood his lavish attention to her small breasts.
He indulged her in so much, however, that she could indulge him
in this ritual. He stood and looked straight at her covered
breasts. He slowly drew the bra straps forward while she held
her arms to free them. Then, the bra in his hand, he looked at
each breast in turn. He drew and released a deep breath. He
bent to kiss each on the upper slope, not the tips. Her breasts
were firm, she needed the bra more for coverage than for support;
but nobody else thought that they were special.

He saw the perfection again. Shallow cones rather than sacks,
they held their shape proudly. The areolae were bright pink, and
the nipples of the same shade stood at attention for his
inspection. He kissed them in homage and kissed her deeply
before drawing her after him to the couch. There he kissed every
inch of their ideal firmness. Most of his attention, though, was
to the tips. He lipped and sucked at the nipples, which stood as
firm there as he now stood below.

He continued licking and kissing them while his hand stroked her
thighs under her half slip. She was slower parting her legs than
she usually was, and he wondered if the nervousness about the
upcoming trip had put her off. He looked in her eyes to check
her emotional state.

She wanted these caresses. She had decided and passed the point
of no return. She was so excited that she worried that her
moisture was soaking into the half slip. She was scared to
death. She wanted him to go on. She couldn't part her legs for
a fortune. He looked at her. Parting her legs was easier than
staring into those eyes she loved, so she did.

The motion of her legs was a request more direct than words could
be. He responded by stroking his hand up one of her thighs
toward her panties. He reached hair instead. He froze.

"You want me to tell people that you gave me the tie?" She
nodded. "Instead?" She nodded again. He'd asked a
fill-in-the-blank question and she had answered a true-false one.
He knew he could, however, do anything with her that didn't
involve removing her panties. If she meant something else, she
would tell him. He changed his position and took her in his
arms. Unfortunately it took him two tries to get up from that
position. "Suave, Alex," he thought.

She clung to him as he lifted her. When she saw that he was
heading into the bedroom she knew that she had passed the point
of no return. So much weight lifted from her stomach that she
was surprised that she didn't rise in his arms. He stood her on
her feet to remove the half slip. She was naked in his arms.
Then he led her to the bed. She watched as he stripped to his
wristwatch. His penis was not a complete surprise; but it was
long, jutting out, and curved upward. It looked surprisingly
cruel for the maleness of such a kind man.

He wished she'd given them more time, but the lady was always
entitled to her doubts. Tabitha had obviously had doubts. "Do
you have another gift that you don't want me talking about?" She
nodded. "Is this it?"

"Half of it."

"Ninety-nine percent. If the rest is the Kohinoor diamond, this
is a hundred times more valuable." He reached for the nightstand
and drew out a box he hadn't needed since soon after they met.

"No," she said. He raised his eyebrows. "I'm on the pill.
Since November."

"You've been planning this."

"But I wanted to be able to back out."

"It's a big step. You still can. Or you can wait 'till you get
back from the vacation." He suspected that he would run howling
to the window and jump twenty-seven stories to the street if she
did.

"That's the other half. ... If you'll have me."

"Have you? You mean stay here?" She nodded. "How long?"

"Until school starts again."

"What will you tell your parents?"

"I already told them. I told them that the trip home on
Thanksgiving was hell, and that I felt more comfortable in a cold
dorm than in an inhospitable house."

"You figured that they would welcome a change of mind, and that I
would welcome a sudden guest. You kept your options open."

"Plus, they needed to hear that, anyway."

"What did I need to hear." He climbed into the other side of the
bed and pulled the covers over them both.

"That I love you. But I'd already said it. I wasn't sure that I
was ready to act on it yet." She felt odd. He was a foot away.
Her parents, she knew, had long -- non-erotic -- conversations in
bed. This was as if she and Alex had just jumped into a decade-
old marriage.

"I love you too. And I knew that you loved me."

"I know that. Both of those things. And I knew that this was
where our love was heading, my love was heading. But I wanted to
play with time. The truth is that I planned this forever. It
was real fun to plan. I think that planning it was the last
thing that I gave up."

"And now you have given it up. The gift is mine?"

"Absolutely."

"You were right by the way."

"Huh?"

"It is half."

He moved suddenly toward her. Her excitement had gone down
enough that she almost panicked, but a decision is a decision.
She spread her legs. He was kissing her forehead when he figured
out what that gesture meant. He laughed.

"You are sweet, love," he said. He kissed her nose and went back
to her forehead. He kissed the whole rest of her face before
getting to her mouth. Only then did he begin petting her.

It seemed to her that he was starting over and moving slower than
he had at the beginning, but the nakedness cut out many steps.
She lay on her back. He lay on his side against her with his
erection lying casually across her thigh. Instead of formally
unveiling her breasts, he kissed a path down neck and shoulders
to one while holding the other. Only when he was sucking and
licking on that nipple did his hand stroke downward. He stopped
for a moment to play with the hair on her delta, then continued
onward.

Her legs were pressed together. He abandoned her breast for a
moment. "At this point, having your legs spread *would* be
convenient." He returned to his sucking as she steeled herself
to do that spreading. When she had, he cupped that area with his
hand in one motion. Her legs closed again.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be." He moved to her other breast. Soon her legs relaxed
in response to that sucking. He stroked her outer lips, and she
tensed again, but only briefly. After a while, despite her
remaining nervousness, she was hotter than she had ever felt
before. As he continued stroking, she felt the tension build
that only her hands had ever brought on.

He, too, noted the tension and found himself praying for the
first time in years. "Alex?" she said.

"Relax love" she heard. "Trust me. Let it happen." She
couldn't relax. She did trust him. Soon it happened. He kept
stroking and sucking through the climax. That made it better
than she had ever done for herself. When she did relax, he
abandoned the nipple and stopped moving his hand. He kissed a
sort of peck on her mouth. "Lovely, dearest. You did great."
She thought that an odd comment when he had done it all.

It seemed to Alex that there were more people in his head than in
the New Hampshire Legislature. A clinician checked a box and
said, "Great, she's orgasmic." A paternal figure and a teacher
congratulated her on her accomplishment. A lustful rapist
struggled against the protective lover. The foxhole Christian
thanked the Lord, quite earnestly, for prayers answered. As her
breath quieted, he slipped one finger in her vagina. One finger
was a tight fit.

"It is crass and boorish to pry," he said, "but I do need to know
this. Have you ever done this before? I don't mean surprise
Christmas gifts. Have you ever had full intercourse with a man
or a boy?"

"God no! Would I have held you off if I had?"

"You would have had that right. Never think otherwise." He left
his finger there while they shared a deep kiss with tongue
licking tongue. Tabitha had managed to surprise him with her
gift, but he had certainly dreamed of her acceptance ... and
worried about it. Would his marriage to Lorraine have survived
all the other problems if she had really enjoyed intercourse?
Would she have enjoyed intercourse as much as she had seemed to
enjoy petting if he had been gentler with her? Tabitha was a
jewel too precious for him to keep, but he would be *damned* if
he was going to tarnish her. "Dearest, you gave this gift to me?
It is all mine to do with as I wish?"

She was startled at the question, even a little apprehensive; but
the answer was clear in her mind. "Absolutely. I am yours."

"Well, it turns out that the gift comes in a very tightly wrapped
package. I could rip it open, but I think the wrapping is rather
nice. I'm going to open it very slowly and carefully. I hope
you take that as liking for the wrapping and not any disrespect
to the contents.

"You have given me two wonderful gifts. The second means that we
have time. I'd like to take the time to stretch you. That could
be done (I'm depending on reading here) by your fingers or mine.
I'd like to use another part of my body.

"That is my choice, but you'll have to co-operate.

"I should mention now that I love you. It was part of the
foundation of that last, but didn't get expressed.

"From now until Christmas, you must tell me the absolute truth."

"I will," she said as earnestly as possible.

"And you must let me do with you what I wish. And you must warn
me of any pain that you feel, however slight. For we are not
going to cause you any pain. Oh, you might stub your toe." She
grinned at the irrelevance. "But not if I can help it." He went
from that speech to kissing her breasts again. His relation to
these was close to idolatry, but his present purpose was to crank
up her id while her ego was wrestling with his recent statements.

His speech surprised her. She had known that he was kind and
considerate, but her plan had been for a quick defloration
followed by all the joys that the bodice-rippers had promised
her. On the other hand, he knew what he was doing. She didn't
*believe* the bodice rippers, not quite. She had said that the
gift was his, so the pictures which had accompanied her self-
fingering weren't her right to demand. Besides, his caring was
part of what she loved about him, and his wisdom was another
part.

She was as surprised at his jumping from talk to action as she
was at his speech. The action, itself, was not a surprise; but
the inaction, the lack of direct attack upon her genitals was.
Then the sensations took over. She pulled him to her for a kiss,
and he came willingly.

He finally broke it and kissed her neck and an ear. He began
stroking her vulva now. He pressed the top where the lips just
begin to part before delving between the outer lips to rub, very
gently, the inner ones against each other. He wanted moisture.
He wanted her afloat but realized that she was still too nervous
to expect that. She seemed liquid enough, however. He rolled her
over with her back to him before adjusting his position.

"Keep your right leg way up there, love. That's right. Now arch
your back a little. The other way. Let me. Oh love. I love
you. Now let me get my hand around here. Do you feel me
slipping back and forth in your valley? That's it. Now I'm at
the critical point, so to speak."

"Yes. I can tell." He was just nudging into the place she put
the tampons.

"Now what I had thought was that I would move forward until you
told me to stop. But that wouldn't work right. I want you to
promise that you will *not* be a brave girl.... I don't hear
your promise."

"I promise."

"Okay. Now move back very gently. Stop when you think that
there *will* be pain."

"Like that?"

"Oh yes. Oh sweet. Oh darling.... Is that still comfortable?"
He could feel the tight band of her entrance on the very tip of
his cock. There had been more room for his finger. This was
clearly a bad position for actual entrance, but it seemed a good
one for stretching.

"There's no pain, if that's what you mean. My leg feels worse."

"Okay. Ease it down. Sorry about that.... Did I ever tell you
that I love you?"

"I love you too."

He petted her sides, her leg, and occasionally her breast. He
rested his left hand lightly on her back. He asked about her
classes and what she thought she had done on her tests. The
mention of tests tensed her up, which crossed his purpose for the
conversation. She got out all her negative expectations about
her courses, however. They had to be expressed once this
fortnight, and he hoped that boil was lanced. His watch said
that they had spent ten minutes since she lowered her leg, but he
wanted the tension gone.

"Do you want a tree this year?" he asked.

"Could we?" Whatever she thought of her family, family Christmas
was real Christmas. A tree would make it much better.

He smiled at the pleasure in her voice. A tree would cost less
than the price of the restaurant lunch that she had turned down.

"Sure. I'll put it up, but you'll have to come along to pick it
out. I have some decorations around here, but maybe we'll pick
up some others." She had moved a little at the suggestion.
"Move back now. That's good. Press back as hard as is
comfortable." He felt a slightly greater penetration. "Now tell
me if it becomes uncomfortable. Come to that, move first and
tell me after."

"Can I move now?" He immediately removed his hands. Was she in
pain after all?

"Go ahead." She squirmed a little. If anything, his penetration
was a little greater afterward. The squirming, however, teased
his cock unmercifully.

"There. That is better, you weren't coming at me right." She
pressed back a little more, and took another millimeter inside.
She thought about ignoring her promise about pain, but decided
that it wouldn't work. She could brace herself for the instant
of pain. She wasn't prepared to keep up this constant pressure
if it would be pressure against soreness. Besides, Alex should
be in charge, it was his gift.

He went back to his monologue about the office. He wanted her
neither worried nor excited. It worked. "Anyway, I may still go
for FSA, but it's a long hard slog."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Fellow Society of Actuaries."

"I thought you were."

"Casualty Actuarial Society. It's a different group. Harder
problems, but don't ever quote me." At the next ten minute
point, he pressed forward and entered a little more. "Hurt?"

"Not at all." She pressed back a little. He talked on for five
minutes, but he stroked her breast more and rested his hand less.
He drew back an inch, which was more than enough to pull himself
completely out. He changed his angle and stroked forward up her
cleft. He missed her entrance completely this way but brushed
over her clitoris.

She worried that this brushing threatened to bring her to another
crisis. Then she hoped that it would bring her there. She
stiffened as the strokes in her valley and the rubbing on her
nipples continued. She tightened her legs together and shuddered
to his motions. He continued until she collapsed into limpness.
Then he cuddled her until her breath returned.

"I do not have," he said, "the words to express how much I love
you. You are the best thing to happen to me in my whole life."

"I was just thinking that I was getting all the pleasure from
this."

"You couldn't be more wrong. You are getting all the orgasms,
but that will change. I have never had pleasure to compare with
holding your sweet, naked, responsive, body in my arms."

"When will it change?" She wanted his response, an affirmation
from him deeper than his words.

"Do you want it to be now?"

"I'd like that."

"Even though it will be outside you?"

"Yes." Indeed, his determination that her defloration had to be
painless had become important to her as well. It wasn't her
choice, but it was a sign of his caring. She didn't want it to
go astray.

Gladly, he moved away from her. He hadn't known how long he was
going to be able to hold out. She just began to feel the loss of
his warmth on her back before she heard him say, "Roll over."

He climbed over her with his legs on the outside. Her exquisite
belly with its slight pad over her taut muscles was damp with
perspiration. His cock was covered with her moisture and his own
precum. He figured that this would be enough lubricant.

He took her hand in his and wrapped it around the base of his
cock. Her touch was lighter than his own, and her hand was much
smaller. All the sensitive parts stuck out.

"Just hold me like that while I do the moving." He lowered his
body so that he was just brushing against her slick belly. Then
he let nature drive his motions. The hour of building tension,
the warm clutch of her fingers on his shaft, the friction against
her skin, all pushed him to a rapid escalation.

She felt sheltered by his warmth over her and around her. She
felt intrigued by the organ in her hand. She felt honored by,
and a little nervous of, his obvious passion.

Then she noticed the look on his face. He didn't look pleased;
he looked in pain. She feared for a moment that he was having a
heart attack. People did have them before forty. Then the speed
doubled, and he looked as if the pain had doubled, and juice
squirted out of his penis. She knew it was an orgasm. She just
had never seen a male orgasm before. It was landing all over
her. Then he was done. His organ shrank and softened in her
hand. She dropped it.

His motion peaked with his desire, then he froze in position
while his tension poured out with his semen. He sagged above her
while catching his breath. After a minute or two, he climbed off
her and went to the bathroom. He returned with washcloths and a
towel.

"Lesson one for terminal virgins," he said. She giggled. "Men
create a *horrible* mess. Lesson two, that makes it the man's
responsibility to clean up." He wiped off her belly, folded the
cloth, covered a few areas which might have been hit. "Did I
miss anywhere?" She shook her head. He kissed a nipple. "Are
you sure that none hit here?"

"I'm sure."

He kissed the other nipple. "Or here?" She giggled. He kissed
her mouth. That was a long kiss.

"You don't need a reason to kiss me, you know," she said.

"You are the reason to kiss you. And I *do* need you. The other
excuses are just for fun. Are you glad that I did that without
waiting to be inside?"

"I guess. You frightened me."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed for that."

"No. That's not it. You looked like you were in pain. I was
thinking 'heart attack.'"

"Don't worry. I have the heart of a man half my age.... I keep
it in a jar on the top shelf." She laughed. "You can't imagine
how sexy your laughs look from here. But don't worry. I'll
survive my orgasms. Someday we'll get a video camera, and you'll
see how you look." That idea didn't appeal to her at all.

"Hug me so I'll know that you're alive." They hugged face to
face, and he kissed the frown lines off her forehead.

"I'm alive. You won't get rid of me that easily.

"Look," he continued, "there are a few practical details. I have
to get the car off the street. Before that I have to get your
luggage. Before that I have to know whether you want to sleep in
here with me or in the guest room. You might want to check out
the larder and see if there is anything that we'll need."

"I sleep here. You won't get rid of *me* that easily."

"I love you." They kissed for a while before they got up and
dressed.

She went wild in the grocery, shopping as though they would eat
in for the next two weeks. He proffered a charge card and
ignored the total. Their next stop was a hardware store for a
stand for the Christmas tree.

He took her to a fine restaurant. Back home, they took turns in
the bathroom. He noted her ratty bathrobe as an addition to his
Christmas list. She seemed reluctant to shed it, though.

"Would you really rather sleep in the guest room, or even have me
sleep there instead?"

"No. I'm being silly." She started to remove the robe, but he
removed it for her. She had considered packing a warm nightgown
but decided that it wouldn't get much use. The slow removal of
the robe bared her completely. He kissed her mouth as he
unbelted the robe and kissed each breast as it came into view.
He hung his robe after hers, and returned to bed as naked as she
was.

The kiss was long and languorous. Then he kissed down to her
breasts and enjoyed them for minutes. "Are you really mine?" he
asked. She nodded, already tensing. He kissed down over her
belly to the fur. He parted her legs and kissed the insides of
her thighs.

She knew what was coming, dreaded it, longed for it. He kissed
her closed labia. Then he licked them open. Her legs tried to
come together without any conscious thought on her part, but his
shoulders were in the way. He kept licking until the inner lips
parted. She shivered but said no word.

The aroma and then the taste nearly maddened him. He brought
himself under control and licked her cleft until she tensed.
Then he licked and sucked her clitoris as she shuddered through
her orgasm. As soon as it was over, he pulled himself up beside
her in the bed. He pulled the covers over them and lay with his
arm over her while she recovered.

She tensed under his mouth until her muscles began to hurt. Then
she tensed again, and shook, and went away into herself. When
she returned, it was to languor and his cuddling. "Sweet
Tabitha, glorious Tabitha," she heard.

She felt feverish, she felt ecstatic, she felt loved, she felt
curious. "What were you doing to me down there?"

"Worshiping you." His voice was serious, not his teasing tone.

"I should be worshiping *you*." She did not mean an oral
reciprocation. Before she began worrying that he would take it
that way, he kissed her deeply.

"Ready to turn your back?" he asked. Not quite ready, she turned
anyway. He hugged her in that position. "I love you," she
heard. "Now remember that you are not to be brave."

He waited for her nod. She was so lovely that he sometimes
feared he had dreamed her. "All right," he continued, "I'm going
to put some grease on myself so this will go more easily." He
rested the cold tube under his arm while he fit himself against
her opening. Then he greased his cockhead and fit himself
against her again. The extra lubrication helped as he eased
himself just within. "Now move back." She did until he felt
himself further inside than the afternoon. "Be careful not to
hurt yourself."

She felt less friction this time, and could press back until she
could feel the stretching. Obedient, she stopped before there
was any pain. She felt occupied, however. Part, if only the
tiniest part, of her contained the tiniest part of him.

He started petting her arm and speaking softly. "We'll get the
tree tomorrow. We'll look at the decorations before then and you
tell me what is missing. The only limits are that the tree has
to fit in my trunk and in the elevator." Then after a pause:
"What was especially good about Christmas when you were a girl?"

She told about decorating the tree, about the year she got a
bicycle, about the puppy that wasn't really a surprise -- she got
to pick him out -- but was a delight beyond all the purchases
since. She wiggled during one part of that story and widened
herself around him. Puppies, however, become old dogs; and old
dogs die. She pulled away as she sobbed. "It's years ago. I
shouldn't."

"Yes you should, beloved. It is right to mourn a friend. And,
right or wrong, you can bring your emotions to this bed.
Whenever you feel like crying, you can cry in my arms. I'm not
going to tell you that some tears are permissible and some are
not." She turned and burrowed into his arms. Her tears trickled
down onto his shoulder.

"I'm messing up your design."

"That was your second gift. You gave me time to be gentle. That
is my only design. You may be tight, but the schedule isn't."

She reached down and touched his cock, a gesture that made his
heart turn over in his chest while it almost got her sprinkled
again. "This doesn't seem to agree."

"That one has no sense of future pleasures. I don't think with
my cock. He will enjoy himself ten-fold in time, but it's in our
time." She let go, which he thought wise if regrettable. After
a while, she turned back around and nestled into his arms. They
each pretended the other was asleep. Soon, it was true.
Part Two: Tuesday

Alex was in the middle of a wonderful dream of holding Tabitha in
his arms when the damned alarm ripped him out of it. He swore,
hit the snooze button on his second flail, and rolled over to try
to recapture a little of the feeling. He rolled into Tabitha's
warm back.

"Are you real?" he asked.

"I think so. What's wrong?"

"The damned alarm clock. It's hard to explain. Let me kiss you
like this. My beard is too scratchy for the front of your head."

"I'm not really awake yet."

"That's fair. Cuddle here and get some more sleep."

"I'm going to cook you breakfast." She was determined to
emphasize her new status with the man she loved.

"That's fine." Scores of diners had people who were ready to
cook him breakfast. None of them were this cuddly.

She felt his penis jutting between her legs. It felt awfully hot
to her. "Do you want me to push back like yesterday."

He hadn't thought about the morning. It sounded like a great
idea. He added a little lubricant and moved to the right
position. "Now," he said. She moved back a little. Either she
was a little looser in her sleepy state or he was a little
smaller. More of him fitted inside. "Push back once more when
the alarm buzzes again." The comfort of her warm back and sweet
smelling hair overcame the discomfort in his bladder. He kissed
her hair lightly until the clock buzzed again. He could feel her
pressure, but no progress. After a minute, the buzzing got on
his nerves. His motion to shut it off separated them. He patted
her rump. "I have to go, sweetheart. Take care."

When he came out -- shaved, showered, and in his underwear -- he
found her in the kitchen, with a hot skillet and a carton of
eggs. "How do you like your eggs?" she asked.

"Sunnyside. Two. Across from you." He got what he asked for.
On his way out, he arranged that any packages for him would be
held in the room behind the desk until he asked for them.

He dictated the Actuarial Department position on pricing
associational groups the first thing that morning. The draft
would go to his boss and be signed by his boss's boss, the
company actuary. His secretary got his keys duplicated on an
extension of her lunch hour. His was spent shopping for more
personal items. He bought the warm robe and the sexiest peignoir
he could find in white. They would gift-wrap and deliver.
Unsophisticated in so many charming ways, Tabitha was much more
sophisticated than he was about art. Dover print books, he
thought, rather than something designed for a coffee table. He
found four that he guessed might to fit her tastes. The book
store sold wrapping paper as well. He wrapped each one
separately after he got back from his lunch hour. That's what
private offices are for, after all.

Alex was not gone more than ten minutes before she ran water into
his enormous tub. The dorm showers couldn't compare with this
luxury. She washed between her legs and then touched the place
he was stretching. For all her words about a gift for him, she
had planned the vacation. Reality was going much slower than her
plan. She inserted a finger and pulled back. Remembering his
wisdom, she stopped just before it brought pain. It seemed to
stretch a little in the hot water. Thoughts of his insertion
excited her. She soon had to abandon her stretching to move the
finger to a higher point. Her climax brought delight inside and
a tidal wave in the water around her.

She climbed from the cooling water to plan their first dinner at
home. When all preparation for cooking was done, she had an hour
to spare. She took a break to clean herself up and to stretch
her entrance once more.

He came home with that evening's restaurant chosen to find
Tabitha ready to serve dinner. The kiss more than made up for
the change in plans.

Over dinner, he asked about the Christmas decorations. "Do you
want multi-colored bulbs or only blue? A tree of blue bulbs
looks both spectral and special, but it doesn't look so
traditional." They decided on blue bulbs but multi-colored tree
decorations.

He ceremoniously gave Tabitha her own set of keys before they
went out. They bought any decorations that she thought they
might need. They found a lovely blue spruce in a lot which
hadn't been picked over much because the prices were on the high
side. They got it up in the freight elevator and installed in
its new holder. He turned himself into her assistant, and she
decided the location of every ball.

Kissing in the room lit only by the blinking lights from the tree
was fun. But, then, they enjoyed kissing in most situations.
Soon, however, kissing wasn't enough. They hurried into the
bedroom.

He hung up his suit coat and tie after the dress, but she
unbuttoned his shirt as he kissed her face. He repeated the
ritual of her bra, and continued kissing her breasts until she
ducked into the bed. Before he could fear that he had frightened
her, she tossed her panties in the general direction of the
chair. He'd spent too long half-dressed, however. "Brrr!" she
complained as he hugged her.

"I'll be warm soon," he said, moving back.

"Better cold skin than no skin," she replied. She pressed into
his renewed hug. The hug brought comfort to her but arousal to
him. "Do you want me to turn around?" she asked when his
erection pressed into her thigh.

"Not yet, beloved. I haven't kissed this side yet." He began on
her forehead, slowly working himself down in the bed as his mouth
sought hers. While their tongues explored each other's mouths,
their hands explored each others bodies. "Please don't," he said
when her hand wrapped around his erection. "It is much too early
yet." Reluctantly he drew away from her soft lips, eagerly he
sought her firm breasts.

She rolled to her back as his lips pursued her. Her back arched
in response to the sweet suction, her legs spread to welcome his
hand. She tensed to his soft friction upon her lower lips, but
also to the memory of a night and morning of pleasure. His
suction on her nipples excited her, but so did the desire that
she felt pouring out from him.

Feeling her tension under his hand and mouth, he knew she was
close to the brink. He switched nipples to give her a little
pause, and then called on all his skill to guide her over. He
licked the nipple as he slid his finger up her newly-widened
tunnel. He sucked hard just as he brushed over her clitoris.
Encouraged by her gasp, he repeated the sequence twice more.

She relaxed slightly as his mouth moved to her other breast, then
she was penetrated by his finger. The erotic promise was as
exciting as the erotic reality. Particular stimuli on nipple and
clitoris merged into waves of general arousal. The tension was
becoming unendurable.

Ruthlessly ignoring his own heightened desire, he stroked and
kissed her until she was shuddering in his arms.

Her tension doubled, arching her body and nearly blanking out her
mind. Then the tension broke into waves of joy.

He was concentrating on her body so much that he almost joined
her in her release. Adorable when quietly sitting across from
him, this girl was ten times as lovely when her spasms of
pleasure brushed her across his torso and legs. He gasped as the
moment struck her, but maintained his stimulating activity until
she collapsed beside him. Then he could contain his love no
longer and he expressed it to her.

As she came back to reality, lying gasping on the bed, she heard
him crooning, "Oh darling, lovely Tabitha, sweet, sweet girl.
You are so wonderful. You are so sweet. Darling, darling, I
love you." He did love her, she could tell from the arm arching
over her, comforting her without restricting her breathing.

He fell silent as her breathing eased. They lay quiet, each
unzipping the packet of love that the other had already sent. He
gently kissed her temple, just back of her eye. She turned to
give him a real kiss, then turned back and thrust her hips into
his lap.

"Again?" she asked.

He once more lubricated his cockhead before adjusting himself so
that it was against her entry. "Slowly, please," he said.
Slowly she moved back. Slowly his tip entered her. Very slowly
it reached a new depth. More than half of the helmet was
enclosed as the tension increased. Then she stopped. "Oh
darling," he said. Then, "Did that hurt?"

"No, but I'm afraid more would."

"Then we won't do more. I'm not certain that I can stand this
much for very long."

She worried that it was hurting him, then she understood what he
meant. She thought that changing the subject might help. "You
didn't mind eating at home, did you? I could tell that you were
surprised."

"Surprised and delighted." It had been a good meal, when he had
noticed over the distraction of having her sitting across from
him. "But I didn't bring you here to be my cook. You must let
me take you out more."

"You didn't bring me here at all. I invited myself." She could
feel some added pressure at that comment, as if he had stiffened
more. "I'm not planning to be your cook. I'm planning to be
*our* cook, just as if we were a couple."

"And I plan to take you out. Just as if we were a couple. Is
that fair?"

"It's certainly fair to invite me, so long as you do it far
enough ahead so you don't interfere with dinner plans."

"Would you give me he honor of accompanying me to dinner on
Christmas Eve? Or is that too short notice?"

"The honor is mine." Then his laughter triggered hers. It was a
long time before they could renew their tenuous connection.

When they did, he felt that most of the glans was enclosed. They
lay there for a while in their separate thoughts. "Did you know
that I love you?" he said.

"I kind of got that impression. Which is nice 'cause I love you
too." She yawned.

"Enough for tonight?"

"I think so. I want to be held tighter. Am I being demanding?"

"You could never be too demanding for my hugs."

Nestled against him, she felt his breath roughen into sleep as
his arm loosened. She enjoyed this embrace for a long time
before she fell asleep herself.

Part Three: Wednesday

He awoke the next morning with Tabitha asleep on his arm and his
arm asleep under her neck. He spent ten minutes just
appreciating his luck and her beauty before various needs drove
him out into the cold. A shaven Alex slipped back under the
covers and next to her.

She awoke to find him staring at her. "You could have woken me
up," she said. "I don't want to miss a minute with you. I
missed you all the time yesterday."

He remembered and laughed. "In the car, I said that I would miss
you this vacation. You didn't say that you would miss me. I'm
missing you less than I expected."

"Were you hurt?"

"A tiny bit. Your surprise made up for it a million times over.
Kiss me and I'll forgive you." She did, then got up and grabbed
her robe. When she got back he asked, "Will you forgive me for
going to the office if I kiss you?" This was a longer and
sweeter kiss. Then he had to kiss his favorite breasts good
morning.

This was the first of five mornings ahead of them without office
deadlines. Both of them were determined to make it special.

He returned to her mouth for a long kiss with tongues playing
tag. Half way through this, he clasped her mound in his hand.
As he trailed kisses down to her far breast, he parted her lower
lips with one finger. He spread the dew upward in the slit
before it was time to change breasts. With the second sweet
nipple in his mouth, he first rubbed the area around her
clitoris, then brushed over it lightly. When she stiffened under
this treatment he kissed a path down to her curls.

She brought love to their kiss and waited for him to heat it to
passion. Soon, her expectations were satisfied. His lips and
his tongue stirred her while his hand inflamed her. She knew his
mouth's destination when it began its journey down from her
breast. This time her eagerness for his arrival was unmixed with
dread. The kisses on her thighs tickled her as they aroused her.
As he parted her labia with his fingers, his breath warmed and
excited them. She was stirred before his tongue ever touched
her. When it did, it soon brought ecstasy. Wave after wave
swept through her as he continued his caresses until she
collapsed.

He loved Tabitha. He loved her beauty, he loved her
thoughtfulness, he loved her cleverness. He loved her intimate
odor and taste. But he loved her responsiveness most. Her
climax in his arms, evoked by his mouth, was as erotic an
experience for him as any climax of his own had ever been. He
lay for a moment with his head on her lax thigh, then he moved
beside her to snuggle against her as she recovered.

Their silence held more love than she could express, but she
tried: "I love what you do with me. I thought that you had made
me come alive when we talked. I wasn't alive before I was in
this bed."

"I love how you respond to me," he answered. "You were always
alive. I saw it before I knew your name. 'That girl is alive,'
I told myself, 'the rest of us here are zombies.' You are more
alive when sleeping than most women are in orgasm. That's what I
was watching. A little breath, a quiver of an eyelash, the
essence of vitality."

"Only around you," she answered. And, after a pause, "Speaking
of around you ..."

He laughed and made the preparations. Her general relaxation was
communicating itself to her most critical area. Without
increasing the pressure, he felt himself slide infinitesimally
further in. That sliding, unfortunately, was taking him nearer
the edge.

It must have had some effect on Tabitha, as well, for she began
moving from side to side. The results at their juncture was
twofold. He entered still further, and he reached the brink of
orgasm. He pulled back with the last of his volition. Turning
on his back, he said, "Come lie on my shoulder." Then, "Please
don't, Sweetheart. Keep your arms well above my waist." They
spent a little time in that position before he relaxed. Her
breasts pressed into his side didn't help, but he couldn't reject
that. Finally, when she was almost asleep again, he said, "Good
morning, love. And does my lady care to join me in a shower?"

She found the intimacy of being washed by him disturbing. Her
own reaction puzzled her considering that he had explored her
most intimate areas with hand and mouth and penis. Washing him
was exciting in a different way. "I think that area is clean,"
he said. "And continuing to wash it will have unanticipated
consequences."

"What if I want those consequences?" she asked. He merely braced
himself against the wall above her head. He arched above her,
sheltering her without touching her. She dropped the washcloth
and brought her soapy hand to his groin. His testes seemed to
shrink away from her attention. His penis was warm and
responsive and smooth in her hand. Then it seemed to get larger.
Then he pushed his groin forward, and the penis throbbed in her
grip. After the first spurt hit her, she moved his organ to the
side. She felt remarkably powerful directing this dynamic
response of this dynamic man wherever she wanted.

As the water pulsed on his back, his essence pulsed out through
her gentle grasp. Merely remaining standing after that took all
his effort. When Tabitha finally removed her hand, he turned
immediately and rinsed the area thoroughly. He wiped himself
quickly with a towel while she rinsed. Then he got a bath sheet
to wrap around his beloved. She held it around her while he
dried her face, and then kissed it. That precedent established,
he treated each section of her sweet body the same way. He bared
it, patted it dry, and then kissed it.

Warm but damp, they rushed through the chilly bedroom and dived
into bed. The bed felt chilly, too, so they cuddled skin to skin
as they waited for the sheets to warm. Their breath mixed as
their tongues played.

Later, he pressed her back as he kissed every inch he could
reach, saving the best for last. The clean, warm, smell of her
newly-washed curls just preceded the odor from her center. None
of the sweet, clever, things she had said to him was so welcome a
message as the one of unmistakable desire which that odor
conveyed. His desire responded to hers. He could not resist
following the sniff with a taste. Soon he was lapping her cleft
and kissing its top.

Her mind, already ravished by his response and his cherishing
care, was ahead of her body for once. Every caress, every hug,
every lick, was a welcome confirmation of her mental arousal.
Finally, he licked and sucked her clitoris until she spasmed.
Then she was limp satiation, and he was warm comfort. It was
twenty minutes before she asked "Do you want me in the same
position again?"

This time the glans almost fit within her. They lay in silence
for ten minutes. He petted her arm during that time and thought
of the joys she had brought him the previous day.

Her thoughts were bittersweet. She knew that he would not let
her stay with him forever; she would, she assumed, marry another.
Someday she would lie with a husband upon the marriage bed while
he told her that she was about to be hurt; but that was fine,
the first time always hurt.

When he asked her to push back again, she was tempted to shove
hard and be done with it. Instead, she pressed herself against
him very gently and felt the slippery presence enter still more.
Tabitha could have lain there in his arms forever. They had
things to do today, however, and she was determined to make him a
good breakfast, well, brunch.

Her thoughts continued in the kitchen. She knew that he would
never consider her as a wife. Even if he had not been gun-shy
from his first marriage, she was too jejune to be an effective
corporate wife. She wished he wouldn't resist her *playing*
housewife, however. She knew the difference between fantasy and
reality. The question was how she would ever settle for a normal
reality after experiencing the fantasy with this extraordinary
man.

He dressed slowly, leaving the kitchen to her as her domain. He
wished, however, that she would stop these flirtatious offers of
her housewifely skills. He had managed to resist ripping her
open when she offered him the opportunity, but that time of
temptation was short-range. He wondered how long he could resist
proposing marriage. He wondered if she saw how much such a
marriage would devastate her life.

At thirty-nine, he had something to offer a nineteen year old.
Not as much as her liveliness and beauty offered him, but he
could plausibly tell himself that the gentleness, experience, and
luxury that he offered were superior to what boys her age would
give her. But if his forties compared favorably to his anonymous
competitor's twenties, that competitor would be in his forties
when Alex was in his sixties. "Let me love her and leave her,"
he thought, "because only leaving her will express any love for
her." More realistically, he expected her to outgrow him as she
was outgrowing her parents.

Over brunch, they laid out the next two days. "Do you want a
stocking?" he asked.

"Not this year. I think I'm claiming to be an adult." She would
have had one at home, of course; at home she would always be a
child.

"How about one present tonight, and the rest on Christmas
morning?" He knew that those rules changed from family to
family. The gifts celebrated Twelfth Night for that matter.

"If you want." There weren't going to be that many presents for
her. He had a fair number from others. They had checked her
dorm, and there were two packages waiting for her.

They stood in a sea of small-fry to look at the mechanical
displays in the store windows. Soon the entranced children on
their side of the window were more entertaining then the
repetitive motions on the other. After a quiet lunch, they drove
up to her dorm to get her Christmas packages. There was a
message about a phone call in her slot.

She called collect. "You can call from my place," said Alex.
"You don't have to call collect."

"I have to call collect," she replied. "They're mean, not
stupid."

"Hello, mother. Merry Christmas."

"Tabitha? We were worried about you."

"That's nice."

"Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"I'm perfectly sure, mother. You should have worried on
Thanksgiving. Did you know what you were doing then? It wasn't
hard to figure out."

"Forget that. We just wanted to know that you were safe. And
merry Christmas to you. Did you get the package?"

"Two packages."

"Well, one is from Dobie. I just did the outer wrapping."

"Is he there?"

"Want to speak to him?" Tabitha could hear a muffled shout.

"Dobie?" Tabitha said. There was no answer.

"Sis?" Dobie said a minute later. He'd been running.

"Thanks for the package. I haven't opened it yet, so I can't be
specific. Did you guys get mine okay?"

"They're under the tree, and I got a card from that Alex guy."

"You did? He didn't tell me."

"Funny card. Remember the argument about the metric system? He
kept his mouth shut, but he remembered it. Dad says that you
stayed away to spend the time with him. I dunno. I think I
would have blown up at the folks *after* Christmas."

"You're a sweet brother, but mercenary as heck."

"You're a sweet sister, especially when you're away long enough
for us to forget our grudges."

She laughed. Dobie was so dependably unsentimental. "Merry
Christmas to the folks, and to you to. Bye."

"Bye." And that got around the problem of actually speaking to
her father.

"You sent a Christmas card to my brother?" She asked.

"A funny one. Twelve days of Christmas done in ten, under the
metric system. 'On the third day of Christmas, my sysop gave to
me -- three kilojoules, two French curves, and a partial with
respect to t.' You know." She didn't know, but Dobie had
appreciated it. The call hadn't been as bad as she had expected.
With it behind her and Alex beside her, she felt light hearted,
as if it were really Christmas.

Dinner was at a place new to her. He tried to vary between
introducing her to new locations and repeating an environment in
which they had enjoyed themselves. "This is where we ate on
Christmas Eve," sounded like a possible favorite.

She enjoyed the food greatly. She knew that he made subtle
distinctions, but "much better than dorm food" seemed to cover
every place he had taken her.

When they were home, they kissed and he slowly removed her
clothes. They went through the bra ritual. Then he stopped and
laughed. "I think that we should change the rules," he said.

"You can take off my panties from now on."

"Thank you, darling." He knelt to do so. The sight of her mound
and the smell of her readiness almost pushed him over the edge.
He kissed the mound lightly once. Then he let her find her own
way to bed while he stripped as fast as he could.

Once in bed, they shared a long kiss. Still driven, wanted to
kiss her center right then. He asked her, "Must I make slow
preparations this time?"

The answer was clear to her. She had given him her body to enter
when he wished. She was eager for his penetration, although she
also mourned the long build-up that he had begun and was
terminating in the middle. It was his decision; it always had
been. "No, darling, do what you wish." He climbed between her
legs, but it was his mouth which touched her there. Her
confusion held back her response for a minute, but that response
overwhelmed her when it came. The release was a series of long
waves which took her higher and higher. It suddenly crashed
taking her with it.

"You are a love. I'll be back in a minute." She missed him, but
wasn't tempted to move. When he returned, he picked her up and
carried her into the bathroom. The tub was filling with water,
but the bubbles had nearly reached the brim. He dropped her feet
into the water before lowering the rest of her more gently.
"Take your time," he said. "Such a lovely woman deserves all the
luxury I can provide."

The bubble bath *was* luxury. She soaked in the water, and the
luxury, and the love of the man who had provided it. She took
some time to stretch herself to accommodate him a little more.
It was easier this time.

She was embarrassed when he came back, although her hand was
hidden by the bubbles. "I have to have someone else in the
apartment for twenty or thirty minutes," he said. "Could you
stay in here until I come back?" She nodded rather unhappily.
These five days were supposed to be *their* time.

A minute later, he was punching for the elevator. The night man
lent him a cart and helped him load it. They took the cart-load
of packages up the freight elevator. He made sure that she was
hidden away before they piled the packages in the guest room. He
stripped one of the guest twin beds, and the night man helped him
flip the mattress over on to the other bed. They carried the
springs out into the living room and settled them with the head
just beyond the tree's longest branches. The mattress, and then
the still-made mattress from the other bed followed. He was as
anxious to be rid of the night man as he had been anxious for his
help. A twenty covered both requirements.

He smoothed the bedclothes and rolled the blanket and top sheet
together against the wall. He put a few, select, packages under
the tree. He turned on the tree lights and turned off the
others. He knocked on the bathroom door in his own robe.

"I'm still in the tub," she answered.

"Towel service." He entered with a bath sheet covering the
package. She climbed out of the tub to be wrapped in terry cloth
and in his arms. He kissed her.

She had found the bubble bath less relaxing after he spoke. It
was one thing to soak as long as one wished, it was quite another
to have to stay in the tub. He was up to something. He did not
have a business appointment after eight on Christmas Eve. If he
had, the tree would cause as much talk as her presence. The idea
of bathing one doorway away from a strange man was disturbing on
its own.

She was less ready for him to dry her off than she had been the
last time. The kiss, however, worked its magic. By the time she
had been patted dry and kissed everywhere, she was ready for this
man again, whatever chicanery he had planned. Her present to be
opened on Christmas Eve was a peignoir, beautiful, if utterly
impractical. She thought it was fair, Alex could dress her to be
seen only by Alex. She put it on.

"Now, darling," Alex said, "you've given me three gifts this
Christmas. Even though I've used up a lots of the second gift,
I'd like to open the first one on Christmas Eve. Do I have your
permission."

"Certainly." She counted it a little overdue, although she had
enjoyed his solicitude. For that matter, she'd enjoyed his
preparations. He led her out of the bath. She turned toward the
bedroom, but he led her on. The living room was lit only by the
tree; even the window curtains were drawn. The bed caught her
attention. "Are you going to open your present under the tree?"
She was laughing.

"With your permission."

"You already have my permission. You are a horrible romantic."

"Only when I'm thinking about you. Nobody at the office would
recognize me from your description."

He stopped her at the foot of the bed for a long, wet kiss. Her
desire increased as his tongue played with hers and his hands
kneaded her hips. When she drew him into a tight hug, she felt
his stiff organ against her side. She knew that he had wanted
her for these four days as completely as she now wanted him.

During the kiss, he felt her stiffness ease into a sweet sag
against him. Slowly, he unbuttoned her first button before
kissing her all around the neck and collar bone. He ended at the
spot on the back of her neck which always made her shiver. When
he felt that reaction he returned to her front to hug her.

More buttons followed and more kisses. She felt it very
difficult to support her own weight. Then his kisses on her left
breast reached the peak. The thrill of his kiss straightened
her. The following licks tensed her again, but her knees weren't
at all steady. He helped her sit down on the very edge of the
bed. For a moment, she was looking at the bulge in his robe.
Then he knelt.

He returned to her breast for a moment. He loved seeing the
nipple straighten and quiver under his attention. Then he went
lower on her torso, unbuttoning as he went. She eased back in
the bed to give him access. When he reached her navel, she was
lying flat with her legs off the edge and spread around him. He
moved back up to the right breast and began again. He kept
unbuttoning until he ran out of buttons. She was spread before
him, protected only by the drape of the peignoir of maidenly
white. His path down from this breast was much faster. He
passed her navel on one side. He brushed aside the cloth, and
nothing at all protected her. He kissed a path from the
projection of her hip bone to the inside of her thigh. He kissed
her mons, then her outer lips and the tiniest edge of the inner
ones peeking between.

As he moved down her body brushing the cloth aside, she missed
the shelter of him above her more than the frail protection of
the peignoir. She watched his head recede as she felt his kisses
advance. Then looking down was too hard and she stared up at the
spectral tree. His kisses had been a sweet torture ever since he
left her breast. The intensity of the torture increased when he
reached her labia. She stared up into the tree as the slow licks
intensified her need. Each time one of the lights blinked, she
felt another thrill shoot through her. But each time, she also
felt herself wind tighter. Then the lights all flew away as her
tension exploded into orgasm.

Lost in her scent and taste for a minute, he pulled himself
together and started a pattern of licks and sucks to tease her to
a climax. He soon succeeded and watched her undulate in the
weird light while he continued sucking.

She lay on the bed as limp as the blanket beside her. The lights
were all back on the tree and blinking at random. Alex was
kneeling above her and kissing the valley between her breasts.

He adjusted his position when she lay still, getting a throw
pillow under his knees. He anointed his cock once more with KY,
although she seemed wet enough. Positioned just right, he backed
up and kissed her breasts until she spoke.

"Alex?" he heard.

"Right here, love." He returned to her entrance and spread her
lips with his fingers.

"You didn't...." He lifted the top of the entry as he slipped
the merest tip inside.

"I am now." He pressed forward until his cockhead seemed
enclosed.

"Thank you." The pleasure was all his as her tight walls
enclosed him. He pressed forward and felt the walls expand
around his glans. The tightness enraptured but frightened him;
could she be this tight and not feel pain?

She felt the intrusion, but there was no pain at all. This
inching forward was starting to excite her; she was being filled
where she had never known she was empty, rubbed in places where
she had never been rubbed before. The mental arousal was almost
as great; she was becoming a woman, possessing and possessed by
the man she loved.

Her slickness was his continuing reassurance; she could not be
this wet and feel anything negative. Her tightness was his
continuing worry; she could not be stretched this much without
some discomfort. Her tight slickness was his erotic feast; the
physical sensation of clasping friction was matched by the
knowledge that he was opening his beloved to full sexual
activity. He paused in his entry to stroke her perfect breasts.
The nipples were quivering in their rigidity. He pressed his
hips forward until he felt the warm friction resume.

She was full of him, and he stroked her breasts. Then he pressed
forward and she was more full. She saw his face looking strict
in the blue light. Then there was no more stretching. His eyes
flicked up to meet hers. They seemed to stream love at her.
They were more than she could manage, and she glanced down.
Staring at his groin was more embarrassing, although she could
not see their junction.

His eyes followed hers downward. An inch of his shaft was
visible between his hair and hers. Her labia were stretched
around his girth. He kept watching as he pressed forward to bury
himself within her. His cockhead had passed the tightest clasp.
He still felt that stricture on his shaft as the head was rubbed
by a gentler touch. Then he was fully in her, groin pressed to
groin.

She felt full. She felt his hairy flesh press against her outer
lips. As she looked up to see a smile break over his face, she
heard him say, "I love you." Then his mouth was on hers for a
brief touch of tongues. He moved out a little as he kissed her
breasts. She pressed his head to her for a moment, then dropped
her hands to his shoulders as he began to move within.

He struggled to maintain his gentleness as he stroked through
that marvelous tightness. He lost it when she started raising
her hips up toward his in response. He saw a shudder pass
through her whole body just before her tunnel gripped him more
tightly than ever. The denial of four days, the love of four
months, the want of four decades, all poured through him and
gushed into her. Her. Her! He was in his love, and he called
her name as he pulsed. Tab ... bee ... thuh! Tab! Bee! Thuh!
Then he collapsed.

His slow strokes within her transformed her desire into sensual
fire. She wanted more, and raised herself into his thrusts to
get it. She stared up at the lights which were all blinking in
unison and rushing toward her as wave after wave of relief shot
through her. Somewhere far above her, he called her name.
Somewhere deep inside her, he throbbed.

He finally dragged himself up and out of her. The bowl of water
holding the cloth was still a little warm. He wiped first her
and then himself. "I love you," he said. It was as true as it
was inadequate. First she, then he, moved up to normal positions
in the bed. They cuddled. He switched off the tree and reached
for the covers. As he covered them both, she reached back for
the most intimate contact.

The tree and its lights were back in their places. He was
washing her in an extension of his care. He put into words the
love he had shown. She gathered herself together to move to the
head of the bed. He joined her and adjusted the sheet. She felt
a little more of him seep out of her. That was all right, a
reminder of love. When she took his organ in her hand, it
stirred slightly. She wondered how she could have ever thought
of it as looking cruel. Like the puppy, it was given her on
Christmas Eve, it responded to her touch, and it loved her. That
reminded her.

"I love you, too," she said.
The End
Wrapped Attention
anon584c@nyx.net
Uther Pendragon
1996/12/22
1997/12/18
1998/11/12
2000/12/20
2001/12/24

For another story in which the man rejoices in his partner's
response:
longest.txt
"The Longest Minute"

This story is indexed in the subdirectory:
mf.txt
Mf: older men and Younger Women

The directory to all my stories can be found at:
index.txt

 

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