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FORMID sucked her way down his neck


"Formidable" {Pendragon} (MF rom wl)

by Uther Pendragon

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, 2000, 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

If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to
me at Perhaps you can use the Write Uther
option below.

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

# # # #

by Uther Pendragon
"It's me," Bob Brennan called over the sound of the radio. As
Jeanette was not in sight, she was in the kitchen. "Sorry I'm
late, but it was that or go back on campus tomorrow." Instead of
the kiss he expected, Jeanette gave him a hushing gesture, finger
to her lip.

He washed his hands as quietly as he could, so as not to
compete with the voice of the French announcer. After someone
else came on, Jeanette clicked off the shortwave. The kiss Bob
received might have been belated, but it was enthusiastic. He
hugged her with his left arm while caressing her firm butt with
his right hand. "Oh Bob!" she said. "I understood it.
Directly. Without slowing it down or listening again." That
*was* a breakthrough. It definitely called for a celebrative
kiss. This time she sank against him while his tongue chased
hers. His hand was less caressing than kneading.

She broke the kiss. "Um, aren't you hungry?"

"Desperately; should I pull out the bed?"

"Nope! You should put up the table." Unfolding the legs of
the card table and setting it were the two tasks which another
person could do to help the cook. The kitchen could hold two
people, if they were good friends; but they couldn't do much food
preparation. Jeanette loaded their plates in the kitchen and
handed them out. Then they were sitting across from each other.

"Do you want to say the grace tonight?" he asked. She
hesitated, and he began to say that she didn't have to.

"I really think that I do." They folded their hands.
"Heavenly Father, I thank you for the food and what happened to
me this morning. Amen."

"Amen," he said, and reached for her hand. He squeezed
it for a second, and they started to eat. "Sorry to spring that
on you. But somehow it felt appropriate."

"S'okay. But I felt so tongue tied. I did feel grateful

"Far as I know, He doesn't grade on eloquence. Anyway, your
experience was the high point of the day. And I didn't know
enough about it. So remedy my ignorance." He started to make
serious inroads on the macaroni and cheese.

"I was listening to the tape at half speed on the MBTA," she
started. "When I got off, the bus was right there and so noisy
that I couldn't do anything but rewind. Then I walked along
listening to the tape again, full-speed that time. I was getting
everything, and then I just kept getting everything. Well, lot's
of it anyway. So now I can."

"Forr mee dahh ble," he said. "Or will my accent spoil your

"Your accent isn't *that* bad."

"I love you." Which, after all, was what she was saying
with her little white lie.

Half his mind followed her expansion of the report, while
half played with the idea of celebration. The weather outside
was miserable, so ice-cream cones were out. She enjoyed his
elaborate stories, but she would probably rather talk about this
tonight. Bed for celebration was rather a cheat, he usually
enjoyed it more than she did. On the other hand, he would make
sure that she enjoyed it. She came to a pause, what had she said

"I really think that it was a breakthrough."

"So do I," he said. "Even though I knew it would come
sometime." Her face seemed to fall a little bit. Damn! He'd
undercut the accomplishment. "But then, you were the one
chopping your way through the tunnel with a pickax. All I did
was watch. I knew it would happen because I know my wife. When
you put your mind to something, you accomplish it.

"And," he concluded, "I'm proud of your accomplishments,
especially proud of this latest one." Then he took his plate to
the kitchen for seconds.

The conversation became both more general and more sporadic.
He cleared the table and was washing the dishes when she turned
the shortwave on again. Sitting at the card table, he took
copious notes on *Mohammed and Charlemagne*. He'd read the
chapter standing on the MBTA, but it had been too jerky to take
any notes. All the while, some part of his subconscious planned
the coming night.

Bob often told his friends that the apartment had a small
kitchen, but that the living room, dining room, bedroom, and
study was good-sized. The time having come to leave the study
for the bedroom, he folded up the card table and pulled out the
sofa bed.

He prepared for bed and got in on Jeanette's side. Jeanette
was slow to take the hint, so he read further into Pirenne. When
she did come to bed, however, she took off her robe and slipped
under the covers naked. He rolled over into the chilliness to
make room.

"Still following it?" he asked.

"Most of it. Sometimes the subject is beyond my vocabulary,
but I can catch on when they start on another story. They are
all excited about the baptism of Clovis."

It took him a moment to recognize the name with the French
pronunciation, but he tried to match it when he responded. "Then
you just might want to find a historian and bribe him to tell you
about Clovis."

"What sort of bribes would one of your professors take?" she

"Tuition. And you'd have to sit through the whole course,
probably taught during your working hours. There might be
prerequisites as well. A grad student would come much cheaper."

"Are there any history grad students in this room?" He
raised his hand. "What would your price be for a short lecture
on Clovis."

"Well, I'd have to prep and give the lecture tomorrow. Give
me a sample of your best kiss; I'll tell you how many of those I
would charge."

"You're getting predictable. I saw that one coming." She
was laughing, though.

At first the kiss was distorted by her smile. It was sexy
as hell, even so. She leaned over him supported on her elbow,
with one breast pressing into his left shoulder and the other
resting on the center of his chest. Her mouth slanted over his.

She licked his lips, and then played with his tongue for
minutes; but she wouldn't follow his tongue between his teeth.
She left his mouth to peck on his eyebrows and lick at his ears.
He writhed while she licked and sucked her way down his neck and
onto his shoulder, but made no move to stop her. She spent
minutes on his left nipple, sucking it into a hardness such as he
had never experienced, licking it, and then sucking it again.
She sucked very hard and lifted her head until it popped out of
her mouth.

She continued down the side of his chest, kissing as she
went. Where could she be going? Stupid question, there was only
one place; and his phallus swelled until it ached. But this was
supposed to be her celebration! He couldn't say no; he'd sworn
never to refused any erotic advances on her part. Breaking that
resolve now would be one hell of a celebration. She stopped
kissing at the line of his pubic hair, but she turned sideways
and slid further down.

She lay for a moment with the side of her face against his
belly and Junior just brushing her other cheek. Just then, his
stomach gurgled. She giggled. This might have decreased his
excitement if the breath from her giggle hadn't struck his

"Junior," she said, "I know you expect a kiss as well. But
Daddy doesn't count that as payment. So we'll have to wait for
another time." She turned her head upwards until her lips were
against the crown. There was the slightest peck of a kiss, and
she slid away.

His virgin bride had come a *long* way in three years, but
he'd never known her like this. She'd just given a whole new
meaning to the word 'tease.' And she didn't seem to be done yet.

She straddled his left leg, which he raised protectively.
Her knee was closer to his scrotum than he really wanted it to
be. She settled down over him, breasts pressed into his chest.
He felt the hardness at the center of each pressing softness,
accepted their testimony of her arousal, pictured them, could
remember their taste.

What he tasted now was her tongue as it invaded his mouth.
She wasn't being coy this time. It thrust in, dueled with his,
licked the roof of his mouth and the bottom of his tongue. When
it did withdraw, his followed; she sucked it before invading

When he sucked hers in turn, she began to move her torso.
That rubbed her softness against his thigh. He could even feel a
little dampness. His erection, trapped between their bodies,
began to hurt. His hands were compulsively touching everything
that they could reach, caressing down her back to her butt and
back again.

She broke the kiss to pepper light kisses over his eyebrows,
nose, and cheeks. She kissed down his neck to his shoulder and
sucked that tendon, moving against his thigh all the while. She
sucked on the lobe of his left ear. Then she bit it.

She immediately rolled away, taking the bed clothes with
her. He rolled after her, mouth to her luscious breast, hand
between her spread legs.

"No Bob," she said pulling the hand away. Before he could
begin to be disappointed, she pulled the arm further. "Now, Bob,

It wasn't what he had planned, but his body wasn't
considering that. He climbed between her legs, retrieved his
hand to adjust himself, and pressed into her wetness. He barely
had time to remove his arm before she arched upwards against him.

The sheets and blankets were a tangle under them, slipping
away from his knee when he drove inwards. This was hardly the
time to deal with that problem. Her thighs were raised and
gripping his, her heels started to beat against the backs of his
legs. All his lips could reach in this position was her
forehead, so he kissed that. She buried her head in his neck and
sucked there. The springs squeaked in time to their movement,
but all he could hear from Jeanette was the gasp of her breath.

Her fingernails scratched down his back to his butt. When
she clawed him, he drove into her and erupted.

When he came back, his butt was freezing. He was lying on
Jeanette with his head just below her breasts, and his feet were
sticking eight inches out from the edge of the bed. The mess,
which belonged on the lower half of the bottom sheet, was soaking
from the top sheet onto the upper edge of the blanket -- and the
middle at that. They were going to be sleeping with that aroma
for a while.

He cleaned up what he could, including himself and Jeanette;
he pulled the bedclothes from underneath her, rolling her when
necessary. He remade the bed over her and turned off the light.
He crawled in his side of the bed. Her first contribution to the
rearrangement was to snuggle back against him.

"Love you," he said. Her response was hardly audible, but
she pressed back more firmly and hugged his arm.

- = -

He had to extricate himself from that hug the next morning.

He stared blearily into the mirror while shaving. He had a
mark on his shoulder. Jeanette had given him a hickey. Hickey,
hell! He could see faint tooth marks. The lobe of his ear was
sore, too, though he couldn't see any marks. Also, there was a
stinging on his butt.

But he certainly wasn't going to register any complaints.
Not only had that been the most arousing night in months, but she
had initiated it.

He wished there were something he could do to make her that
joyous every day; he might not survive it, but he would die

Of course, she was joyous because of an accomplishment of
her own, something -- by definition -- that he could never give
her. And they still hadn't had the celebration he had planned.
Well, he could make today a little special; she'd celebrate the
accomplishment of the day, he the passion of the night as well.
Maybe tonight he could deliver some fraction of the sexual
pleasure to her that she'd provided him.

He'd eaten and put her coffee on before she finally
struggled out of bed. He handed her a cup of coffee while
enjoying the sight of her staggering past in the altogether.
Morning wasn't Jeanette's best time, but she was still sexy as
hell in her skin. He started her breakfast while she was in the
bathroom. She accepted another cup on her way to find her robe.
Well, he couldn't complain; the room was a bit chilly.

She was sipping the third cup when he put the plate at her
place at table. "Thanks," she said. "What's with the eggs?"

"Celebration. One of our family members just conquered
Gaul. Sorry there wasn't any bacon."

"I know. Terribly expensive. But this means less fancy
ramen for the next two weeks. But it was sweet of you." When
she dipped the toast into the first yolk, he went to straighten
the bed and brush his breakfast off his teeth.

"Bob Brennan!" she shouted from the kitchen. "You had
cereal for breakfast."

"Well, it was a celebration of your victory. I couldn't
consult the chief cook on how long the supplies had to last and
also surprise the honoree. Anyway, it was a tremendous
breakthrough. It deserved lobster, let alone eggs. I do think
it was the second greatest accomplishment that I've seen you

"Second?" she said. "What was the first?" He felt a twinge
of guilt; she really didn't get up to speed this soon after
waking up. She'd have looked both ways if he had said something
like that in the afternoon.

"Seducing me, of course."

"Pffft! I could seduce you with my hands tied behind my

"Wanna bet?" This was spiraling away from a celebration in
her honor once again, but he couldn't resist an opening like
that. He could picture her with her hands tied behind her back.

"No." And the mood seemed to cool down.

"Well it was your choice of words."

"Anyway," she said, "I remember the seduction going quite
the other way."

"You just stood there, your chin thrust forward and fire
shooting out of your eyes. The seduction was immediate and
total, and you hadn't even noticed me yet."

"I don't think that that counts as seduction. I was
fourteen then." But her tone softened; the first days of their
friendship meant something special to her. To him, too, of
course; but she responded more to the first stages than to the
spots in between which he thought were finer.

"Sure it does," he said. "It just took me a few years to

"Sheesh! 'Doctor, you're the one with the dirty pictures.'"
He had to dig into memory to connect the punch line to a joke
about a man who saw sexual content in every Rorschach inkblot.
"I tell off a bully before I'd even met you. You use that as an
excuse for a nine-year campaign of words and kisses and such to
entice me into your bed. And you call that reciprocation."

"Totally unfair."


"Well," he explained. "It has been only eight and a half
years in all. And I hadn't the goal of enticing you into my bed
clearly in mind for the first part of that...."

"How many minutes?"

"Weeks and weeks. I fell in love with your spirit first.
Not before the first dance, probably not before the second, was I
thinking of bed. Anyway, I stopped trying to entice you into my
bed after the wedding."

"Because we used sleeping bags on our honeymoon?"

"Because I was clever enough to set it up so you didn't have
any other bed available," he said. "Anyway, I never blamed you
for being the sexiest woman in North America. First: I think
it's great. Second: you don't try to be; it's just your nature."

She took exaggeratedly high steps back towards her wardrobe.
It was her way of miming that the bullshit was getting a little
deep. She didn't deny his description of her though; she really
couldn't after the previous night. She snapped on the shortwave,
and he got dressed.

Over lunch, Bob got a report on the news from Europe. "And
have you researched this Clovis business?" Jeanette asked.

"Most of it," he said. "I'll be ready for the lecture as
soon as I get my fee."

"How soon he forgets! I would have thought my kiss was
worth remembering for at least one day."

"How soon she forgets. I got a *sample*, which is what I
asked for. If that kiss is the fee, I'll have to give change.
But what you gave me last night was a sample of what the fee
would be."

She looked at him, obviously trying to replay the
conversation from the night before. "And here I thought that you
had chosen a different career, back three years ago."

Well, he wasn't a lawyer, or even a law student. That
didn't mean he couldn't be tricky. "I'll tell you what. I'll
give the lecture tonight, and you can decide how much fee it

When the night came, he suggested that she run another tape
in the shortwave.

"But I can understand it directly now. I don't have to slow
it down; good thing, too -- I was getting to think all Frenchmen
spoke in basso profundo."

"But you can't take the radio with you to work," he pointed
out. "What this means is that you'll need three times as many
tapes as before. Well, less than that, we'll see how many. And
you said that some of them stretch your vocabulary. You could
put one of those on tape, copy the new words down at half speed,
and play it at full speed when you've learned them. If that
requires more tape, I'm sure that mom would send a care package
before the summer." Summer, when Bob as well as Jeanette worked,
was the season for non-budgeted purchases.

She was just looking at him. "Okay, it's your life, your
study. I was just thinking what might help."

"You're cute," she said, "bossy as hell but cute. There's a
little squirrel up there spinning the little wheel in his cage
all day. I tell you about the breakthrough, and it goes
clockwise: 'How can Jeanette use this to learn as much French as
possible?' Then it goes the other direction: 'How can I cheat
Jeanette out of as many kisses as possible?'"

"But they were *kisses*!" Who kissed whom was mostly a
game. He thought that she enjoyed it.

"They were kisses. If I needed to trade chores, you'd never
cheat me. But you think up these elaborate schemes to cheat me
over something which you get any time for the asking."

Not like last night, he couldn't. But he kept silent.

"And then the squirrel turns around again and whirls his
cage with plans to feed me a special breakfast for celebration.
I love you, Bob."

"And I love you, too."

"I know you do," she said. His heart lurched at the
statement. "And I'm going to call on that love tonight. I don't
deserve this; I had my way last night. But could I run two
nights in succession?"

"Three sixty five." She would never believe it, but simply
that she desired something sexual from him was more erotic than
any position that contortionists could devise.

"I wouldn't like that," she said. "I love my gentle
husband, and all you other folk; but I love that crazy, busy,
squirrel, too. And I don't have your facility -- we wouldn't do
anything new. It's just that I *really* want gentleness tonight.
And it's unfair...."

"Fairness has nothing to do with marriage. Anyway, fairness
would say that Bob has run much more than fifty percent of our
bed times. Let's discuss this if the series doesn't stop.
Anyway, you're saying that you liked last night." That was
incredibly more important. His memory of that ecstasy was marred
by the thought that it couldn't have been very good for her.

"More than I could say."

"Then you can have anything you want tonight." He'd left
himself wide open with that, but she didn't seem to be in a
game-playing mood.

"Then come here." That was no painful task. They ended up
in a tight cuddle with the back of his butt just on the middle of
the bed, and about eight inches between her knee and the edge.

"Can you give the lecture like this?"

"I had visual aids," he said. Really the map was necessary.

"Bring the Kleenex, too." The nice thing about a sofa-bed
was that it came with a fine shelf along the head of the bed. He
got his books up there within reach, and the box on its side so
the first Kleenex was hanging down.

They settled back into the same position. A little
experimentation allowed her to hold the book open to the map
while his hand stayed on her breast. He talked softly into the
back of her neck, mostly resisting the temptation to kiss it more
often than the natural breaks in the story allowed.

He described the odd situation of "federates" in the late
Roman empire, which could be alternatively -- even simultaneously
-- nations invading the Empire and part of the Roman military
system. He briefly ran through the Arian/Athanasian split and
the decision to send the heretics out as missionaries. "So you
see," he said, "most of those Germanic federates were disliked
for their Arianism as much as for any other reason. Most of the
Franks, however, were still pagans."

Then he told the standard story of the conquests of Clovis
and his conversion to Catholic Christianity. "But all of this is
fairly dubious. Our primary source is Gregory of Tours, who came
centuries later and wasn't the most careful of chroniclers
anyway. The..." He kissed the prominent vertebra where her neck
met her spine. "...end!" He kissed there again.

"Well the Pope is coming to celebrate the anniversary of his
baptism, and some politicians don't like it. I don't think it is
mostly about what actually happened."

"No it wouldn't be," he answered. "Outside academia, inside
nine times out of ten, the battle is not about what happened in
the past; it's about what the past means."

She took his hand, which had been holding one breast or the
other for most of the lecture, and drew it to her mouth. She
slowly kissed each finger, pecking at them rather than drawing
them into her mouth. "Do you think that you could make very
gentle love to your wife?"

"Bad day?" he asked. It had certainly not seemed so.

She turned so that she was lying on her back beside him.
"Lovely day. I don't want it to end."

Well that was fine. Not that he wasn't willing to gentle
her over some rough spots in her work life, but he didn't want
her to *have* rough spots. Gentling for celebration was much

He began by sprinkling kisses over her face. He worked down
to her mouth and kissed that closed-lip until it opened by
itself. Then their tongues dueled before he broke the kiss to
lick her ears and throat. He kissed round and round her far
breast in a spiral until he reached the areola. He sucked the
nipple once before repeating the performance on the near breast.
Then he alternated licks and sucks, right breast and left, in
what he hoped was a random pattern. He kissed the spot where her
breasts met while his hand wandered down her belly.

He massaged her mons, pressing hard enough that the pad
moved over the bone rather than his hand moving over her hair.
While he was doing that, he kissed a slow path up her breast from
the bottom groove to the nipple on top and then sipped at that
nipple. He repeated that on the other breast. Her thighs spread
a little.

Responding to that silent invitation, he tickled the
sensitive flesh on their insides. While doing that, he kissed
from one nipple across the valley and up to the other. When her
legs had spread enough to make it difficult to tickle them
simultaneously, he brought his hand up to clasp her groin.
Holding her thus, he kissed up her body towards her mouth. His
tongue slipped between one set of lips as his finger slipped
between another.

She welcomed both. Her knees raised and spread while her
tongue was licking his. As soon as his finger had gathered
sufficient moisture, he used it to rub the very edges of her
inner labia. That should be gentle enough. He returned to the
valley for light strokes before his lips returned to her breast.
He played with her nipple with lips, tongue, and suction. He
stroked one side of her valley and then the other. He kept his
weight off her and listened to her breathing.

When she was breathing shallowly and her abdomen had
hardened under his arm, he switched breasts and added a second
finger. Now he was sucking harder and licking the nipple less.
He brought more moisture up close to her clitoris. When she
pressed her hips down into the bed at the top of his strokes, he
smiled and released her nipple. He looked into her intent face.

Her frown didn't fool him at all. She was on the road to
pleasure. He allowed his fingers to brush over her clitoris, and
smiled at her gasp.

"Bob, please," she said. "I want you in me."

He'd been concentrating so completely on maintaining his
gentleness that his erection had softened. Her appeal, however,
began to restore him. As he moved between her legs, she took him
in her hand, hardening him further. When he was in position, she
rubbed the head up and down her valley. He was stiff as a ramrod
by the time that she placed him and pulled him with her fingers.

Slowly, slowly, he moved inwards. Lushly, warmly, her
tunnel clasped him. Deeply embedded, he looked into her eyes.

"I want two more things, Bob," she said. "I want the
floor." He nodded, although greatly surprised. This wasn't a
family meeting. On the other hand, in the present position he
could refuse her nothing.

"I've been happy the last two days because of the French,"
she began, "but not only that. Oh, you can move." He did, still
gently. "Oh yes! Try to keep it slow. Anyway, you came home
while I was listening, and I shushed you, and you shushed. You
didn't ask why."

He almost explained that Jeanette wanting quiet was the
reason why. She'd decided because the broadcast was suddenly
comprehensible, and that was a good reason. But he'd decided
because she wanted it, and that was -- if anything -- a better
reason. But she'd shushed him again, and it was hard to
concentrate enough to put that into words.

He was trying to move slowly and not rest too much weight on
her, which gave an unusual flavor to their frictions. She was
talking in gusts, contracting a bit more tightly around him as
the breath rushed out. The sensations were exquisite, but they
made concentrating on her speech (to say nothing of controlling
his pace) that much more difficult. To bring her along, he began
pausing each time he was fully within her; there he shifted back
and forth a millimeter, rubbing his groin against hers.

"And this is the same thing, somehow," she continued. "I
want something quite special tonight, and you don't ask why -- or
even what. You give me the lead because I asked." She would
never see that her wanting the lead was, by itself, an incredible
turn-on. "I've felt about you like that before, since the track
team. Your love somehow supports me; like holding a child up to
put ornaments on a Christmas tree. I can do things, can enjoy
things, because Bob loves me." He'd missed a transition there,
but he did love her; she knew it, and that was what counted.

He moved his hands onto her breasts and looked a question at
her. "Oh yes, Bob. I love when you do that." So he caressed
the smoothness and played, still gently, with the pink nipples on
top. Voices stilled, they let their faces and bodies communicate
for them. Her face's message was different from her body's.

Her face expressed warm, calm, love; almost totally divorced
from the actions of their bodies. Her hands smoothed over his
back and arms, as if to coach him in the gentleness she'd asked.
They certainly expressed love, but it could have been love
divorced from desire. Her body, on the other hand, was answering
his. Not only had she spread her legs to clasp him, delightful
as that acceptance was; not only was she warm and wet for him,
letting him know of her desire as well as her love; she was now
pushing back to meet his thrusts. The motion was still slow and
deliberate, but it was clearly mutual.

As his need increased, however, hers seemed to increase as
rapidly. The gentle smile on her face turned tense, her touch
heavier. Her body firmed under his; her hands darted from one
place to another and gripped him where they alit. Her face began
to frown, and her eyes focused beyond him. It took obvious
effort for her to speak.

"Bob, please. Come first. Let me feel you." He
desperately wanted to see her climax, but he'd said that this
night was hers to call. He deepened his stroke and changed the
angle subtly. Now the nerve bud under the head of his phallus
rubbed the floor of her vagina for the entire stroke. His pace
evened, speeding only slightly, but no longer pausing. He
withdrew until the head passed the lovely constriction at her
entrance, and then slid inward again until he was buried

He still watched her face tighten as his own orgasm built
up pressure. She was staring at him again, searching his face
for something. She snaked her arms under his and scratched over
his nipples. Then she caressed down his back, down further. He
was conscious of her hands on his hips, the top of his thighs.
But mostly he was conscious of the tension building within him,
the pressure rolling up from those thighs to his neck. Then,
just as the pressure reached the top of his head, and he could
feel the seed pouring into his phallus, she pressed a finger
joint just back of his scrotum.

He drove into her. "Bob!" she cried. And another "Bob"
after each of his pulses. She pressed upwards against him and
clutched around him. He was one ecstatic erupting rigidity.

Then he was nothing. His next sensation was her gasps in
his ear, as he lay collapsed atop her. He was panting as hard as
she was, and too weak to move.

When he finally could, he shifted his weight onto knees and
one elbow. That popped him out. He reached the Kleenex box and
extracted three tissues. He cleaned himself off, and then the
sheet as best he could; she took one tissue for cleaning herself.

When those had been tossed towards the wastebasket, when
he'd turned off the light and she'd turned off the radio, when
he'd moved to his own side of the bed; then she snuggled back
against him. He held her belly for a minute, and she put her
hand over his and pressed firmly. He kissed the back of her
neck. She pulled his hand to the gap between her breasts and
hugged it fiercely. After that hug, she moved it to her breast.
They relaxed the little bit that eased them towards sleep.

"Have I been too selfish?" she asked.

"Heavens no. I love when you want something sexual from

"Well I often want something sexual from you, sometimes even
your ingenious games. It's just that I wanted something
particular this time."

"Anytime," he said, "that you want something particular from
me, let me know. Anytime.... Well anytime in private."

She chuckled a little at the condition.

"I do love you," he added.

"I know, Bob. That was what I was trying to say. I'm
supposed to respond with 'I love you, too.' And that's true.
But what's been so evident to me today is your love for me. It
surrounds me and cuddles me like your arm."

So he cuddled her as lovingly as he could until they fell

The End
Uther Pendragon

This is one of a series of stories about the Brennans.

The next story in the series is:
taste.txt "Foretaste"

The first story in the series is:
forever.txt "Forever"

The directory to the entire series is:
For a story about a different couple in a different relationship,
susan.txt "Susan"

The directory to all my stories can be found at:


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