"Windmill Saga" {Robert Brennan} (MF cons) 


                          WINDMILL SAGA
                        by Robert Brennan

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, Copyright held by 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.


                      #    #    #    #    #

                          WINDMILL SAGA
                        by Robert Brennan

She woke in an empty bed.  This had been happening too often 
lately.  At four a.m., she found him sitting in front of a screen 
saver with his head against the back of the chair, snoring away.

He jumped when she kissed him.  The taste of his mouth almost 
made her jump, as well. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Kissing my love.  Kissing him at four a.m. Mountain Daylight 
Time.  Better known as time for bed.  If you are going to sleep, 
why do it alone?"

"I'm running the grammar checker over the entire document.  That 
always takes a while.  Then I have to deal with the results, put 
in the headers, and send it off.  *Then* I'll sleep."

"Yeah, like a log.  You won't be any fun then either."

"You only love me for my body."

"Not for your mouth, that's for sure.  Why don't you brush your 
teeth while the computer works?  Gargle with mouthwash while 
you're at it."

When he came out of the bathroom, she tasted the results.  "Um.  
Much nicer mouth, do you think you could fake some feeling?"  She 
pulled him against her, feeling his hard-on against her mound, 
his hard chest against her breasts.  After a moment, he returned 
the kiss.  His hands squeezed her asscheeks.  Then he stepped 
back.

"I don't have to fake anything.  You know I love you, it's just 
that the report is due tomorr...  Today, by now.  Didn't you feel 
my love in that hug?"

She smiled and touched his semi-erection.  "I felt this.  Is that 
called your love?"  She knew she had him then.  As he hardened in 
her hand, his protests softened in her ears.

She could tell that he *had* missed her.  The computer competed 
for his attention, not his desire.  

She tossed off her night gown before helping him with his 
clothes.  His hugs were now enthusiastic, and they rolled around 
on the bed like newlyweds before he pinned her.  Kissing her 
breasts, he explored her folds with his fingers.  She clasped his 
arm with her legs while he spread her moisture around.

"So wet!" he said.  She responded in kind, kissing the shoulder 
which was all she could reach while he was at her breast.  The 
fingers of one hand trailed lightly over his ass; the fingers of 
the other grasped his cock.  As she had intended, that ended 
foreplay.  She spread her legs as he rolled on top of her.

"What did you think I had been thinking about?" she asked as he 
hurriedly positioned himself.  Then neither had time for coherent 
speech.  She could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought 
for restraint while pressing slowly into her.  When she rocked her 
pussy upward, the restraint disappeared.  His ardor matched hers;  
her rhythm matched his.  Arching with her climax, she pulled him 
tight into her.  Then he came with shaking and grunts.

A moment later he lay gasping on top of her.

His breath evened and then turned to snores.  "Sleep well, my 
love," she whispered as she slipped from under him.  The project 
would flow smoother when he was rested.  Cuddled against him, she 
found the rest which had eluded her in the empty bed.


Having prepared the batter long before, she heated the pan when 
she heard him stirring.  "Pancake breakfast in ten minutes," she 
told him from the bedroom door.  "Rested and fed, you can whip 
that report out by one."

"One!  What time is it?"

"Eleven thirteen." 

"The report was needed at a board meeting at nine-thirty 
*Eastern* Time.  They'll fire me.  They'll have to."  He looked 
devastated.

She went back to turn off the stove.  He wouldn't want pancakes;  
pancakes were for celebrations.


The End
Windmill Saga
Robert Brennan
Copyright, Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
1997/07/06
2001/06/05


For another story involving one spouse caring for the other,
see:
formid.txt
"Formidable" 

Other imitations of the writing of Dulcinea are listed in:
dulcinea.txt
Dulcinea Tribute 


This story is indexed in the subdirectory: 
wl.txt
Wedded Lust 

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