author: Uther Pendragon
title: Susan
keywords: MF cons
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, 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.
- = = -
For Neneh
# # #
Susan
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
I drive into Susan with an animal hunger and she rises
against me and around me with an adept grace. Her hands, which
had been caressing my back, claw at my shoulder. The
constriction of her incipient orgasm brings me to mine. We
explode together. For an immeasurable moment, it is heavenly
ecstasy. Then I return to mundane reality.
I roll off her and hug her to me. "You are wonderful," I
say.
"You're not so bad yourself," she replies.
Lying there in the fatuous lethargy of a man who has been
fucked by a woman dedicated to the art, I remember how this all
began. Without Eve, I would never have met Susan.
I had gone to my brother's house to use his laser
printer on a paper that I had written. I'd been
dilatory, and it was due that afternoon. I found my
sister-in-law in an irascible temper. My two-year-old
niece Eve was, if anything, angrier than her mother.
She wanted to go for a drive. Mommy had promised, and
Eve was impervious to any suggestion that her baby
brother's cold had changed the situation. "Would Mommy
let you come to college with me?" I asked. "There are
stairs there." Mommy would; at that point, Mommy would
have considered letting her go with Charles Manson.
Eve's mood swung 180 degrees. She blithely chattered to
me from her car seat for the entire trip.
Susan interrupts my memories. She wiggles out of my arms to lean
over and kiss me. Soon her hand is busy at my groin. She
unwraps her favorite part and kisses it.
"I can't, love," I say with more than a little guile. Susan can
never resist that challenge.
"I'm not trying," she says even more guilefully. "I'm just
rewarding the hero of our recent adventure." When I finally
stiffen, however, she reaches for the next condom. "This is
redundant, you know. I'm on the pill."
"I come from a prolific family," I reply. "We may be more
fertile than average. Two levels of protection aren't too
many."
Once she has raised our desires to the point of pain, she
mounts me to assuage them. At one time this blithe hedonism
disturbed me. Now I take Susan for what she is. She likes me
well enough, but she doesn't love me. What she loves is sex.
She bends so that I can suck her prominent nipples. I caress
her smooth skin. When she sits back up, I have one hand on her
breast and the other between her thighs. I can judge her state
and keep her slightly ahead of me. Then she changes her motions
to those which will take her over.
Again, she constricts around me. I turn us over to thrust
into her warmth. She comes, and I follow. Recovered, back in my
arms, she snuggles back against me. She will stay the night, and
is -- if I know her at all -- already planning the morning.
"What were you thinking of?" she asks.
"How I could possibly be so lucky to have found you."
"You came highly recommended," she says. And so I had.
Eve and I only walked up the outside stairs once going
in, since I was really pushing the deadline. On the way
out, however, we took several trips up and down. A
small group of coeds gathered to admire the little
beauty.
"You have a fan club, Eve," I said. "Say hi to them."
"Hi," she said with her guileless, smile, "I'm Eve."
"How do you do, Eve," said the cutest of the coeds.
"I'm Susan."
"UncaJoe," Eve continued, pointing to me.
"Hello UncaJoe."
"Hello Susan."
Susan's breath evens into sleep. Holding my lover in my arms,
I return to my memories.
I saw Susan around campus after that. We sometimes
shared a table in the cafeteria. One day, I screwed up
my courage enough to ask her out to a movie. When I
drove her home, she asked me up to her apartment. I
expected a Coke and a good night kiss. I didn't get
anything so mundane as a Coke, but her enthusiastic,
adept, kiss began as soon as the door was closed behind
us. When we broke for air she backed up, but only to
remove her coat and ask for mine.
With our coats off, we moved to the couch. She made no
objection when I petted her through her blouse, nor when
I opened it. I had enough glimpses and touches on those
smooth breasts to need to heft them unencumbered. When
I started to remove her bra, however, Susan moved away.
I feared that I had crossed the line until she removed
the blouse herself and reached back for the snaps.
I thought then that I was risking the incipient
relationship with that sweet, innocent, coed by moving
too fast. I think now that I had risked boring this
hedonist by my dilatory acceptance of the access she'd
given me.
With my mouth sucking on her nipples, I felt safe
sneaking my hand up her pantyhose above her knee.
Suddenly, she gripped my wrist. While I feared that I
was about to be thrown out of paradise for taking too
many liberties, she pressed my hand against her thrice-
covered vulva.
"Rub!" she ordered. I could have figured that out for
myself. I kept rubbing and sucked harder as she dropped
all concern about me to concentrate on her pleasure.
Minutes later it came. What seemed minutes after that
it passed.
I stared incredulously as this petite body shook in wave
after violent wave of orgasm. When she pushed me away,
I was quite ready to stop. I held her as her breasts
shook enticingly with each gasp for air. Finally she
recovered enough to sit straight.
"You are good," she said. "Slow but good." She looked
down in my lap where my trousers were tented. "Sorry
about that. I do have some rules, though. One of them
is that I don't fuck on first dates."
I decided against trying the apocryphal story that my
balls would hurt if the pressure wasn't relieved by real
sex. "I took care of your problem," I said. "Can't you
do something to assuage mine?"
"I don't suck on first dates, either. What are you
going to do, go home and play with yourself?"
"If that is what I have to do," I answered.
"If you let me watch, I'll let you watch," she said. I
almost came at that.
"Watch what?"
"Watch me play with myself." At that time, I knew that
women came; but I still supposed that they felt the same
lethargy afterwards that males did. Susan never does.
She brought me some Kleenex and invited me to remove any
clothes that I felt were constricting me. After I had,
she blithely removed the rest of her clothes in a
straight-forward fashion that was more erotic than any
stripper's performance.
Watching her pet her pussy drove me to the edge of
orgasm, and my own strokes were almost redundant. She
watched my movements and ejaculation, then waited for me
to recover my breath. The orgasm she brought herself
was as dramatic as, if somewhat shorter than, the one
that my hand had provided.
After she recovered, she relieved me of the Kleenex and
led me to the bathroom to clean up and dress again. It
was nearly a year later that I realized that she had had
my ejaculate tested for STDs.
The next week I went to the cafeteria a little before
the time I knew Susan would be coming there. I planned
to invite her to a movie for a second date. Instead she
and I had a long talk, through one of my classes as a
matter of fact, about her personal version of hedonism.
Essentially she believed that each person should seek
his or her own pleasure, but seek it by offering
pleasure to others in exchange. This discussion was so
engrossing that I forgot my mundane purpose of asking
her to a movie.
The next time I saw her, I asked her to a dance. In the
fast dances, she was a pleasure to behold; in the slow
ones, a pleasure to hold. She explained on the way up
the stairs to her place that her apartment mate had
claim to the living room that night. She peeked in the
door to see that the coast was clear and led me rapidly
to her room.
Once there, she hung her coat in her closet and helped
me take mine off. She continued helping me undress
until I wore nothing between my belt and my glasses. At
that point, I turned her around to hug her back to my
front. I kissed the back of her neck and her ear. I
teased her breasts before beginning to unbutton her
blouse. I later found that she preferred a fast
buildup, rather than this dilatory strategy. She
couldn't have found my delay egregious that time because
she relaxed and let me set the pace.
After I removed her blouse and brassiere, she turned in
my arms and kissed me deeply. Her nipples were rubbing
against my chest, and the soft pressure behind them
helped harden me. When I pulled her toward me by her
butt, she rubbed her mound on my thigh. When I couldn't
find the clasp on her skirt, she laughed, pulled away,
and removed it. She continued with panties and
pantyhose while I removed my shoes. When I saw her
naked, I could no longer resist. I pushed her over on
the bed and kissed those lovely breasts. From there, I
kissed lower until I reached her mound. I rained kisses
over that lovely spot and the lips beneath it.
"Really do it," she commanded. I had some idea of what
she meant, but no experience in it.
"I'm new to this," I said. "Tell me how."
"Spread the outer ones apart. Lick the edge of the
inner ones." Doing that, I first tasted her nectar,
first tasted any woman. "Now lick the insides." Here
the taste was stronger, and the odor was intoxicating.
"Do the inner lips one at a time.... Do you see the bud
on top?"
I had to draw back to say "Yes."
"Lick it very lightly." I did. Then I went back to the
inner lips with frequent visits to her clitoris. I took
her moans as signs of enjoyment, since she would have
shoved me off otherwise. By this time, my world had
been reduced to the taste, odor, and texture in front of
my face; the sound of her voice; and the engorged organ
constricted by my trousers. Briefly freeing my hands, I
shoved my trousers and my shorts down to my knees. Then
I stroked her breasts. "Oh yes," she said. At some
time in the past, I'd been told that she had a roommate
who had dibs on the living room; but since then I had
forgotten everything else but us two.
"Yes," she said the next time I licked her clitoris,
"more." So I licked it some more. "Yes ... yes ...
yes. Now suck it." I sucked her little bud and she
moved against my face. "Harder!" she shouted. I tried.
"God! ... Yesss!" she screamed.
A moment later, she pushed me out of that heaven of
taste into a mundane bedroom. With her thighs off my
ears and my attention off her marvelous cunt, I heard
sounds from the living room. The squeaks of the sofa
frame were matched by moans. A much louder moan was
followed by a series of grunts, then silence. I knew
that the people I heard had heard Susan.
Even though self-conscious, I didn't slow down. I
finished stripping and climbed into bed. With my mouth
on her sweet breasts and my hand in her vulva, I was
better prepared for what she expected than I had been in
licking her. Susan found me adept enough that she
didn't give me directions. Instead, my sweet hedonist
toyed with my cock and balls while I toyed with her
nipples and labia. Together, we stoked a mutual hunger.
Together, pausing only for me to roll on the condom, we
moved to assuage it.
She guided me into her velvety softness and then matched
my thrusts. The grimace on her face, and then the
tautness of her belly foretold her incipient orgasm.
Her tightness around me triggered mine. I thrust hard
into her and came with a gush and a loud groan. I was
able to keep moving until she had followed me. We both
collapsed, with me on top.
I took a few minutes to roll off and a few more to clean
up and get dressed. "I love you," I said. It was true
at the time.
"No you don't, she replied. "You enjoy me. I enjoy you
too." She put on a robe to guide me through the living
room. "You guys at a stopping place?" she called.
"Come in," a voice replied. I was incredulous. The
couple was lying on the couch, back to front, watching
an X-rated video. From their position, his cock had to
be in her. A shirt, obviously tossed over their groins
in the last minute, did little to ameliorate their
nakedness.
"Joyce, Dave," Susan said, "this is Joe. Joe, meet my
roommate Joyce and her friend, Dave." I mumbled
something fatuous, and averted my eyes. I focused on
the video just as the hero pulled out and jetted over
the heroine. I stumbled to the door.
I didn't feel the cold until I got out of the car at
home.
Susan is perfect as a lover, but I can't say the same
for her as a beloved. I loved her once, although she
always treated my love as apocryphal. I believe that
she regards love itself as apocryphal. I know better.
The reality of my love is shown in how hard I had to
work to kill it.
Susan loves sex, and has no inhibitions about discussing
it. I took advantage of that in my attempt to win her.
"Tell me how to please you better," I asked again and
again. "Is there anything else you want to do?" There
often was, and I would study harder at her school than
in my classes. To act out her fantasies, I played
pirate to her captive and child to her nanny. I became
adept at techniques that would have disgusted me a year
before. I only rejected her counsel with respect to the
condoms. It wasn't only redundancy in contraception
that I wanted, it was also protection against any
disease her other lovers might have passed on.
I don't mean that she did anything egregiously vicious.
Her hedonism rejected pain as a means to pleasure,
especially another person's pain. She tied me up twice,
each time to bring me to heights of desire that I
couldn't achieve if I had any way of ameliorating my
sexual tension myself. Both times, she ended the
session by bringing me to explosive orgasms. The second
time my desire was so intense and my relief so explosive
that I strained a muscle in my shoulder pulling against
the restraints. She refused to try that sport again,
although I occasionally treated her to restraints. In
her philosophy "If it feels good, do it," is less
important than "If it feels bad, don't."
All this took time. In that time, I graduated, got a
job, and rented my own apartment. My moving out
surprised my family. My brother and sisters had moved
out to get their own room. As the youngest, I was left
with all that space. But I wanted a place to take Susan
where we could be alone and unheard.
The day came when I asked "Is there any sexual technique
that I need to improve?" and she couldn't think of one.
"Then let me direct this next scene." She agreed
readily.
After we let our tongues play for a while, I kissed her
face and neck and ears before descending to her breasts.
I kissed her thighs before reaching the juncture. There
I played a teasing game. When she tightened in
incipient orgasm, I pulled back to kiss her thighs
again. Finally responding to her pleas, I sucked and
licked her to a screaming climax.
I hugged her until her breath came back. Then I started
over from the beginning on the kisses. I spent much
more time on her breasts. When she was panting and
undulating, I entered her warmth. Despite the condom, I
had learned to feel out her G-spot with the top of my
glans. I alternated rubbing against that spot with
pressure of my pubic bone against the area around her
clitoris. Occasionally I would take a few long strokes
to give her a third type of stimulus.
Meanwhile, I was teasing her nipples with my fingers and
kissing her neck and ear. I slowed my motions as she
tensed. When she went into orgasm, however, I responded
with deep rapid strokes. Her vagina clenched around my
phallus so strongly and often that she took me over the
cliff after her. Even when my orgasm was over I kept my
weight on my upper arms, not on her.
"That was wonderful," she said. "That was as good as
the best anyone has ever done for me."
"If that is true," I asked, "why not keep exclusively to
me? I love you. I want to make you happy in every way.
I want to be yours and to have you as mine."
Susan was incredulous. "You're a marvelous lover, Joe,
really you are. I get lots of pleasure with you. But I
get pleasure with the others, too. And variety itself
is a pleasure. Why should I limit my pleasures? Why,
for that matter, should you limit yours?"
"No other girl is as good as you."
"Thank you, darling. But I can introduce you to other
girls who are almost as good. Try the variety, you
might like it." My hopes were dashed.
"But I love you," I cried. Susan was (and is)
impervious to that argument.
I managed to hide the depths of my despair from her at
that time, but my brother and sisters soon got some
samples of my irascible temper. If my family has an
unusual number of kids, we are equally prolific in
gossip. I would normally get a telephone call from one
sibling or another every day or two. In my black mood,
I made acerbic responses to inquiries as to how I was
doing. These were reported to others in the family, who
would then call. This didn't help my mood, and the
later callers got their own acerbic comments.
I could treat my family that way. However, when I made
some particularly egregious comment to Susan about how
she was treating me, she suggested that we stop seeing
one another. "This relationship is clearly causing you
more pain than pleasure. That is a good reason to break
it up."
It took quite a bit of guile to maintain the
relationship. I pretended that I had replaced my mind-
devouring love for her with mundane lust. Time, which
heals all wounds, gradually replaced the pretense with
reality. Each time with Susan is an incredibly sensuous
pleasure, but we don't have long talks anymore.
Thinking that, I hug her sleeping form. Sometimes we play out
fantasies where I pretend to be her rapist, or her prisoner.
Only while she sleeps, however, can I secretly play out my
favorite fantasy, the one in which we are in love.
The end
Susan
Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
1997/01/14
2001/05/17
2002/06/27
For another story involving this same
heroine, see:
spring.txt
"Spring Equinox"
This story is coded (MF cons).
The code, cons, means: all the sex in the story is consensual.
For more on the story codes and how to use them to find the
sorts of stories to interest you:
/~Uther_Pendragon/code/scfr.htm
"Story codes for readers"
This story is indexed in the subdirectory:
games.txt
Games
The directory to all my stories can be found
at:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm