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living or dead is strictly coincidental.

   White Uther Pendragon nogardneprethu@gmail.com

   Mf wl 1st oral

   "Oh, Sharon." He kissed her, tasting her freshness and youth over the
hamburgers and fries they'd just eaten.  Her breasts were firm through
blouse and bra.

   "Oh, Don." Calling Mr.  Grant by his first name was still a thrill.  He
knew so much!  History, sure.  He'd even made history sound interesting. 
But he knew so much about life, about women, about her.  Where boys groped,
he caressed.  Where boys got there's, he cared about her responses.

   He'd already sent in his resignation from the school district.  Come
September, come the time Sharon decided to move on if that were earlier,
he'd go look for a third career.  Teachers don't date students. 
High-school teachers sure don't date girls going into their Junior year. 
But he'd take Sharon over a career any day.  In his eight years as a
widower, he'd never met a woman to match her.  And Sharon was only
beginning.  He'd seen her go from being satisfied with a kiss to the point
where she hungered for her second climax of the session.  And, thinking of
that, wasn't it time for her first?

   As Don's kisses left her mouth to her ear and down her throat, she
unbuttoned her blouse.  He didn't grab; he didn't force; he didn't take. 
He gave, and -- in response -- she gave what she wished to give.  He
stopped on the special spot at the back of her neck.  The kisses and licks
there made her rush to get the blouse unbuttoned.  When it was, he moved
back to give her room to remove both bra and blouse.  Afterwards, though,
he went back to the same spot on her neck.  She had to be content with his
hand on her breast for the longest time.  When his trail of kisses finally
reached the left nipple, she held him there.  When she released his head,
he backed off the couch to give her room.  When she lay down, he was
kissing her right breast and stoking her thighs.

   He loved her warm, soft, furry, labia.  He especially loved the moisture
within that reported her arousal.  He timed it so that he reached her
nipple with his mouth and her clit with his finger at the same time.  He
licked and sucked and stroked.  She sighed and wiggled.  He could see the
arousal as her face went from a smile to a frown, could see her abdomen
tense, could see her hands drop from his arm to the couch cushions.

   She loved him, never more than at this time, but her attention turned
inward.  Warmth spread downward for her breast where he licked, upward from
her pussy where he rubbed.  He was so gentle; she was never as gentle with
herself.  And, while his way took longer, it took her much higher.  And it
was doing so now.  There was as string running through her from his mouth
to his finger.  It tightened and tightened.  She tightened and tightened.

   Then, the string broke.  She flew as her body went through spasm after
spasm.

   When she returned to earth, it was with Dan kissing her forehead and
holding her breast.  She rested, then reached up to move his lips where
they belonged.  He resisted only long enough to kiss the tip of her nose on
the way.  Then, they were kissing.  Their tongues were touching, licking
each other.  When his tongue retreated, hers followed.  He sucked her
tongue gently.  Finally, she pushed him back.  She'd made her decision, and
this last session on his couch had only confirmed that decision.  He was
the man, even if he was the only man she knew in this way.  She sat up
straight.

   "Remember," she said while rising, "the first time I visited here?  You
told me that I set the limits.  You wouldn't cross any line I drew."

   "Certainly." Her first visit to his condo was burnt into his memory. 
"If I've transgressed a boundary, it was inadvertent.  Tell me, and I'll be
certain to respect it in the future.  Tell me a new boundary, even, and
I'll respect that."

   "It's more like that.  You've never done anything I didn't want you to
do." Now, not doing things she'd wanted him to do, that was a different
story.  Well, that was ending today.  "Where is your bedroom?" She thought
of taking off her skirt.  Actually, she should leave her tennies and socks
out here.  He still looked puzzled.  "I've decided.  There are no more
lines.  I'm giving myself to you." He didn't move.

   "For how long?" If she were willing to go that far, she might be willing
to go one step further.

   "Well," He should know her schedule.  "I still have to be home at six
o'clock for dinner." She could get longer for dates, but she didn't want to
tell her parents she was dating Don.

   "Not quite what I meant.  Are you giving yourself to me for tonight, or
for the rest of my life?"

   "What are you asking?" Is it what it sounded like?

   "What I should be asking is whether you will marry me.  That's the real
question.  You're willing to have an affair with me.  Are you willing to
have a marriage with me?"

   "You don't have to marry me to sleep with me."

   "You've made that abundantly clear.  But I have to marry you to be
married to you.  That's what I want.  Sharon will you marry me?" Maybe that
was one step too far.  Maybe they should have sex this afternoon and he
should propose later.  But that would be devious thinking.  He'd handled
this relationship, however deviously the two of them had treated the rest
of the world, with complete openness towards her.  Well, complete openness
since school let out.

   "Are you proposing?" Now, that was a stupid question.  "Yes.  Oh, yes!"

   "All right.  Now we are agreed.  We have to figure out a lot of other
things.  You've never had sex with a man?" Or, presumably, a boy.

   "I've never gone as far as I have with you."

   "Then I'd like the next step to be the wedding.  I'd like you to wear
white." He didn't want to marry his mistress, his despoiled-child mistress.
"Actually, we have a great many things to plan."

   "Today?" She wanted to marry him, but she wanted this date, too.

   "I don't think so.  Can you keep this a secret for a while longer?  I
think we have to plan everything, including how to tell your parents."

   "I suppose." She couldn't tell anyone.  Well, she hadn't been able to
tell anyone about Don, anyway.

   "Then, I take it back.  There is one step in between.  Are you certain
you want to see my bedroom?"

   "Sure." She felt less sure than she had minutes ago.  Then, she was
going to give herself to him, going to experience what all the talk was
about.  Now?  What was going to happen now?  But he was walking towards the
door.  She had been clear enough where his bedroom was.  She'd been in the
bathroom and the closet next to the door was obvious.  The only other inner
door led to his bedroom.  The room was neat; the bed made.

   Don felt that she looked unsure of herself.  Well, that was
understandable, and the cure was as obvious as it was pleasant.  Their kiss
was sweet, then -- as his hands stroked up and down her back -- ardent.  He
guided her to the bed..

   "Sit first," he said when she started to lie down.  He knelt in front of
her and took off her shoes and socks.  Then his hands stroked up her legs.
"I've always said that I didn't take your clothes off -- that it was your
decision each time.  Will you let me take off the rest of your clothes?"

   "Yes." She had, after all decided to give herself to him.  But she
thought he had refused.  Well, the rules were different for engaged
couples.

   He helped her up, figured out how to undo the skirt, slipped it off.  He
lay it on the other side of the bed.  Should have a chair handier.  He
kissed her, tongue touching tongue, hands stroking back until they reached
her sweet butt.  Then he kissed a line down to her throat.  He broke the
kiss to watch himself remove the panties.  Her mound was as sweet as her
breasts were.  The hair was bronze to the gold of her head.  When the
panties were pooled around her ankles, she stepped out of them.  She looked
at him before she lay down.  The expression was unreadable.

   Was she going to see him naked, now?  Sex-ed was never as clear as you
wanted it to be, but those books -- as well as the novels -- were definite
that you don't wear clothes to make love.  Instead, he came over to the bed
to kiss her again.  This time the trail of kisses went all the way down to
her breast.  Then his hand returned to her pussy.  When she responded to
his strokes there, his kisses trailed lower.  He wasn't!  But the novels
suggested that he would, and that she should protest.  But they also
suggested that she would enjoy it.  The heroines had never read the books.
While she was considering whether a protest would be appropriate, he
reached her pussy.

   She had thought his fingers were gentle and delightful, Hie mouth was
twice as gentle and ten times as delightful.  The warmth spread though her
body.  The string tightened.  When it broke, she flew.  But his mouth
didn't leave her.  Indeed, she felt his finger enter her.  She flew again
and again.  She convulsed in agony which was also the greatest pleasure she
had ever known.  When he finally let her alone, she collapsed.

   Don kissed down Sharon's lithe body from her breast towards her labia. A
glance at her face when he climbed between her feet showed her puzzled but
not resistant.  When he kissed her center, she opened her legs more.  Her
exciting aroma showed that she was already aroused.  He licked her to her
second orgasm of the afternoon.  When it was subsiding, he inserted one
finger and rubbed it around her entranceway.  The hymen hadn't disappeared,
but it was rudimentary.  He stretched it one more time, then inserted two
fingers until they touched her G-spot.  Then he licked her clitoris and
rubbed her G-spot through three more orgasms.  When he was done, she sank
down limply.

   He kicked off his shoes and lay down beside her otherwise dressed.  He
rested his hand on her shoulder.  When she turned towards him, he kissed
her forehead and then her lips.  He stroked down her arm to her hip.

   "But you're still dressed," she said.  "Don't you want me?" The last
hour had been glorious, but all the time she'd spent deciding to give
herself to him had been wasted.  Or had it?

   "Come closer." He hugged her by the butt until his erection pressed into
her abdomen.  "Feel that?  Know what that is?" She nodded.  "That means I
want you, want you right now.  But what I want more is to have you for
life. You've said you'll marry me.  That's more important."

   "You could have both." Although she was no longer so interested in going
all the way.  That last experience had been wonderful, but it had drained
her.

   "I want my virgin bride.  I want my virgin bride, Sharon.  Now, if you
want a shower, you can wrap your hair in a towel It won't get all that
wet."

   "No." It was hot out there, an excuse for any amount of sweat.  "I'll
just dress and go home."

   "The next time, we'll plan." And he put his shoes back on and drove her
to a corner two blocks from her home.

   "Are you certain you want to marry me, even if your parents say no," Don
asked when they could get together again.

   "I'm sure." She loved Don, She wanted to marry him; she wanted to have
sex with him every night.  And he seemed to want to delay having sex until
the marriage.  'Even if' seemed a weak condition.  Mom and Dad were certain
to say no.

   "Then let's get all our ducks in a row before we tell them." He'd been a
parent of teenagers himself.  He could imagine their response.  "You're
going to be 17 when?"

   "The 12th."

   "Let's get the marriage license after that.  I'll check on the rules. 
Then the engagement ring.  If they don't come around, you'll come back with
me and we'll get married the next day."

   Sharon was happy enough to follow Dan's plans.  It wasn't only that they
didn't pet until the plans were agreed.  His plans had her finishing high
school and going to college just like Mom and Dad wanted.  But they wanted
her to do that before she started to live.  Dan's plans had her doing that
while living an exciting life.  When 'all the ducks' were 'in a row,' they
went to her house.  She had scarf -- a fashion statement nothing to keep
you warm -- twisted about her left hand.

   "Dad, this is Don Grant." She raised her voice.  "Mom could you come in
here and sit down?  I have something to tell you." When everybody was
seated, Don's plan again, she said.  "This is Don Grant.  We're engaged."
She uncovered the ring on her hand.  The scarf went around her neck where
it looked better, if not appropriate to the rest of her clothes.

   "You're not pregnant?" Mrs.  Bartlett asked.  Don took over, as they had
agreed.

   "No she isn't.  That's the good news.  Now for the bad.  I'm 47, a
widower.  I have two sons older than Sharon."

   "Couldn't you wait?" That was the father, trying to bargain.  Well, that
was better than throwing him out of the house..

   "Not really.  If I were her age, we could talk every day in school.  I
could take her to dances, the movies, out for hamburgers and shakes.  As it
is, we have to sneak around.  We can't kiss in public, can't even hold
hands in public.  We can be married publicly; she's old enough for that. 
We can't date publicly."

   "Talking about sneaking around, we've never even heard of you." The
father was still talking.

   "That's not true," Sharon said.  "I told you all about him.  He's Mr. 
Grant who taught history last year." Not that they had listened, but when
did they ever listen?

   "Does the school know about this?" The mother still hadn't said
anything.

   "No.  Before they do, the school board will gave processed my
resignation.  If the state allows marriage at 17, the school system
wouldn't approve of marrying one of your students."

   "And, then, how will you support her?" Don kept his smile to himself. 
Mr.  Bartlett was looking for arguments against the marriage, but he hadn't
found one.

   "Quite easily.  I have six-figure investment earnings." He saw a look of
puzzlement on Sharon's face.  "That's more than $100,000."

   "You can run through $100,000 quite fast if you don't have a salary."

   "I didn't make myself clear, Mr.  Bartlett." He'd made himself quite
clear, but the father was grasping at straws.  "That's more than $100,000
income a year." Sharon was still looking puzzled.  "Of all the things which
we've discussed, that didn't come up.  I'd have told you later.  Look, let
me go back and set a context.

   "A decade ago, I was working in the investment business and making an
obscene amount of money.  I was married to a woman I loved and had two sons
I loved.  I wasn't, however, spending enough time with any of them.  The
family joke was that I made money and Gretchen made a difference.  She was
a schoolteacher.  Someday, we told ourselves, I would get out of the rat
race and we would travel and enjoy all that money I was bringing in.  That
was not to be.

   "My wife came down with cancer.  She was feeling tired and depressed for
the second half of the school year, but she put off going to the doctor
until vacation time.  She didn't live nine months after the diagnosis. 
Well, I could tell that I had screwed up my priorities.  But I had two sons
who had lost their mother, really, their only parent.  I hadn't been around
all that much.  I wasn't going to change any of the rest of their lives.  I
kept my job, but scaled back my hours to something closer to 40 hours a
week.  I scaled back my consumption, of not the boys' consumption.  I
socked money away towards the day I could walk away.

   "My older boy is out of college and working.  When my younger boy took a
summer internship rather than come home for vacation, I asked him if he
minded my selling the house.  I did, quit my job, and took an MAT -- a
Master in Art in Teaching.  I wanted to make a difference myself.  I came
to Chicago, bought a condo, and took a job teaching history.  I met Sharon
the second year I taught.  The rest you know.

   "Anyway, as far as finances go, I could live comfortably the rest of my
life without any salary.  I don't think I could enjoy life without working,
but the salary isn't the necessary part.  Even when Sharon goes to college,
her tuition will come out of current income, not out of savings."

   "You seem to have thought all this out." At last, the mother chimed in.

   "Well, as I said, you don't approve of the engagement, but you wouldn't
have approved of the courtship, either.  We had to figure it out by
ourselves.  I'd like to say that the financial end is something I haven't
discussed with Sharon.  Your daughter is not a gold digger.  I was putting
that off until later." And, he figured, the $120,000 from treasury bonds is
all that the parents needed to know about unless Sharon wanted to tell
them. The stock dividends and muni interest were none of their business.

   "What we'd like to have is an August wedding with you" -- he looked at
the father -- "walking Sharon down the aisle.  The alternative is a July
wedding without you.  I'm not going to pretend that we expect you to be
happy about this marriage." He took the time to pass out the Xeroxes of the
marriage license.  Sharon and he got copies; that seemed appropriate if not
necessary.  "I'm not even asking you to pretend to us that you are happy
about it.  You might find it in your best interest, however, to pretend to
the rest of the world that you are happy about it.  We could have a
wedding, a perfectly legal wedding, without you.  We'd prefer a wedding
with your presence and sponsorship.

   "The exception, for reasons I laid out moments ago, are the bills. 
Nobody has to know but the people receiving the checks, but I expect to pay
the major bills.  You certainly didn't budget for this.  I'd like to have a
wedding to which you invite family and friends, a reception, the whole
works.  If you want to make a point of your disapproval, you can deny us
that.  As I've pointed out, you can't deny us the legality of a marriage.
Sharon is old enough to marry without parental consent."

   "You're not giving us much choice."

   "We're giving you a choice.  The options aren't ones you like."

   "We want Sharon to finish her school." Still the mother.

   "Certainly.  We've discussed that.  My condo is in the enrollment area
for Lincoln Park High.  We've decided that she should transfer there.  They
probably won't be happy with a married student, but they don't have much
choice.  After that, she attends the college she chooses among those she
can get into.  I think she'll have a range of possibilities."

   "Seems a strange marriage, her off at college." The father had chimed in
again.  For the moment, at least, he seemed to accept the marriage.  Of
course, he was trying to dissuade them, not too subtly.

   "Well, she won't be 'off.' She'll choose the college, one that doesn't
require a married freshman to live on campus.  We'll move our household
there.  After all, as you pointed out, I'm currently out of a job.  There's
nothing keeping me in Chicago but Sharon."

   In the end, they agreed.  They even agreed to support Sharon's going on
the Pill.  The mother approved that at once.  Don suspected that she
thought that they were already having sex.  Well, most of the wedding
guests would be amazed in nine month's time.  Sharon had promised to tell
him if they pressured her beyond what she would expect.  They had one ugly
confrontation when he was gone, then faced reality.  She could run away to
him, and they didn't want that.

   Sharon and her mother planned the wedding.  As he had expected, both got
excited by the planning.  He got his desires, that Sharon wear white and
that he organize the reception.  He chose the Palmer House.  Sharon's
friends were disappointed that they were served ginger ale instead of
champagne, but the waiters had been warned.  And the kids, if not their
parents, thought that the May-December courtship was romantic.  Carl, his
wife Jinny, and Bob were polite.  They definitely weren't enthusiastic, but
Dad had supported the boys' assaults on convention.

   Nobody had kept Sharon away from the champagne.  Between that and the
unfamiliar heels, he kept a hand on her as they left the reception.  He had
already checked in, and they took an elevator from the room that held the
reception to their floor.

   "Aren't we going home?" Sharon asked.

   "The custom is to spend a honeymoon.  We only have one night here, but I
thought that would be nice." He threw open the door to the large room.

   "Cool!" She looked at the double bed.  Would this be it?  He'd got his
bride in white.  She was still wearing her white gown.  He kissed her, then
started removing his own tux.

   "Oof.  I don't know which is worse, these monkey suits or you women's
heels."

   "Heels are definitely worse." Her ankles were aching.

   "Take them off, but leave the rest to me." He removed his own shoes
before coming over for a kiss.  "There's my Sharon.  I thought you'd been
replaced by someone two inches taller."

   She grinned.  The earth was steadier now that she could trust her
footing.  His kiss was as sweet, although he didn't stroke her.  Then he
spun his finger in the air.  She turned around.

   "Where's the zipper?"

   "It's on the side." She lifted her arm, and he pulled zipper down.  With
his help, she struggled out of the dress.  He took it over to the closet
and hung it up His own shirt followed it.  He came back in a T-shirt and
socks.  He was still wearing the tux pants, though.  He kissed her lips,
the side of her face.  He was walking around her.  He kissed the side of
her neck while unfastening the bra.  He dropped that on the back of a chair
before removing her half slip.  Then he led her over to the closet.  There
was a mirror on the back of the door.

   "Aren't you beautiful?' he asked.  "Doesn't the girl in the glass look
gorgeous?"

   "It's just me." A bare-breasted Shannon dressed in white panties and
nylons.

   "Didn't say it was anyone else.  I said you were beautiful.  Sit down,
and I'll take off those stockings.  Do the garters hurt?"

   "Not as much as the shoes did." She did sit down on the bed, though.  He
was gentle removing her stockings and garters.  Then he stroked her legs.
He kissed the top of her head before helping her under the covers.  He left
her briefly for a bathroom trip.

   There, he shaved and brushed his teeth.  He stopped at the chair to
strip off the rest of his clothes.  He slipped naked into bed with her . 
She turned to him for a kiss.  Soon, he had his first experience of
Sharon's nearly naked body pressed against his naked body.  He felt soft
breasts on his chest.  He stroked down her back to clutch her panty-clothed
butt.

   She'd felt abandoned when he left her, curious when he stopped at the
chair.  From pictures, she knew what a naked man looked like, but not what
a naked Don looked like.  She knew what a penis looked like, but not what
his penis looked like.  It looked thick, and it was slanting downward. 
Then he was in bed with her and covered up.  The kiss tasted of mint.  He
smelled of a lot of aftershave.  The hair on his chest was scratchy on her
nipples, his skin was warm.  She felt his penis against her mound and hip.
Altogether, it was the sexiest kiss they'd ever shared, the sexiest kiss
she'd ever had.  When he pulled her against him by her ass, she felt his
penis harden.  She was sorry to end it when he pushed against her shoulder,
but this was what she'd offered a month ago.  They were going to do it for
real.

   He got her on her back and kissed down her throat to her breast.  It was
as sweet and firm under his mouth as ever.  He held her other breast as he
nursed on this one.  When he kissed across to the valley to the other
breast, he stroked down her firm abdomen to the panties.  These had so much
lace on them that his hand could feel the shape of her mound much less than
it had with her usual panties.  When he had nursed at the far breast, he
shuffled down the bed to kneel beside her legs.  He put both hands on the
waist band of the panties.

   "Sharon help me," he said.

   If it wasn't what she had offered, it was what she had enjoyed in the
past.  He kissed the right breast while holding the left one.  He kissed
the left breast while petting her groin.  The warmth spread from her
breasts to the rest of her body.  It was more intoxicating than the
champagne had been.  When he stopped kissing her, he moved down the bed to
remove her last piece of clothing.

   "Sharon help me," she heard.  She raised her hips while he pulled the
panties to her knees.  His kiss on her stomach tickled; she dropped down on
the bed.  He removed the panties the rest of the way.  Her excitement grew
as he stroked her pussy.  Then he was kissing her thighs, kissing right up
to her pussy.  The first lick on her pussy lips was exciting, his first
lick on her clit was incredibly exciting.  As her arousal mounted, he put a
finger into her, then several, then he spread them.  This was a little
uncomfortable, but it was also thrilling.  When his mouth left her pussy,
he moved up the bed over her.

   "Sharon." He parted her labia and fitted himself to her entrance.  "Look
me in the eyes." While she did, he pressed forward and inward.  He felt her
part before his tip, slide around his head, slowly encase all of his shaft
until he was buried full within her.  Meanwhile, he watched her face.  In
turns it was happy, dubious, and then satisfied.  "I'm in you.  Are you
okay?"

   "I'm fine." Why shouldn't she be okay?  This is what she had wanted. 
And she had felt him sliding inside her, stretching her almost to the point
of discomfort and then less.  She'd felt him going deeper, into a part of
her that had never been filled.  And now it was.  "Full," She said
grinning.

   That smile convinced him.  He shifted in the bed so that his weight was
on his elbows and he had a beast in each hand.  he watched her face as he
moved most of the way out and back in again.  The sensations were exquisite
and her face showed no pain.  He repeated the motions, his lust growing
higher and driving him faster.

   She felt Don stroking within her.  The knowledge that this was it
excited her.  Somehow, the physical motion added to her excitement.  The
string from her breasts in his hands to her pussy holding his stroking
penis grew tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter.

   He could see Shannon's grin disappear into a frown.  Her body under him
tensed.  He slowed his strokes to watch her grimace.  Then he felt the
spasm around him.  He drove in and out of her vaginal clutchings until he
lost it entirely.  He drove in once more and pumped his love into her still
clutching vagina.

   As her concentration turned inward, she forgot the face above her.  She
could still feel, however the motion within her.  As it slowed, the string
grew tighter, impossibl0y tight, agonizingly tight.  Then it broke.  She
felt her whole body contract and relax, contract and relax.  But she was
aware that she was contacting around Don, contracting around him still
moving within her.  And, then, he was still except for a pulsing she felt
within her last spasms.  He held above her and within her for one more
second; then he fell, turning them both onto their sides.

   With his last strength, he let his left arm collapse first.  That
brought them to their sides facing each other.  It also brought him out. 
She was panting and covered with perspiration.  Her hair was sticking all
over her face.  She was beautiful.

   "I love you," he panted.  She lay looking at him.  That was it, what
they always talked about.  She had done it.  He had done it to her.  And it
was as good as they said.  She was a heroine in her own novel.

   "I love you, too."

   The end White Uther Pendragon nogardneprethu@gmail.com

   Another story of the beginning of another marriage:
/~Uther_Pendragon/brennan/forever.htm "Forever"

   The index to almost all my stories:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm