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From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "Right" (Uther)
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Date: Thu, 21 Jan 2010 18:10:06 -0500
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This material is copyright, 2010, 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.
If you have any comments or requests, please e-mail
them to me at nogardnePrethU@gmail.com .
All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted
as public figures in the background, are figments of my
imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is
strictly coincidental.



Right
Uther Pendragon
nogardnePrethU@gmail.com
Mf hist 1st oral



"Are we agreed, then?" Lord Charles Graham asked.
"You'll be mine."

"Yes," Bessie answered.

"I swear I'll do right by you. While you are with me, I
provide for all your needs. Afterwards, I'll set you up in
your own shop. I'll provide for any children." He wanted
these assurances to be clear. She seemed willing enough
now, but might worry later. He'd send his instructions to
his man of business in the morning.

"Yes, milord." She'd already said 'yes' once. She trusted
him, and his proposition was the most romantic event in
her young life.

"Then come here." He kissed her thoroughly. His hands
caressed her back before pulling her against him. The soft
breasts pleased him, as did the firm belly against his
member.

Bessie thought that this was the time. She had agreed; she
shouldn't worry. But she did worry. They said that the
first time hurt. He turned her around, pressed his front
against her back, and held her breasts. The peaks ached
like they did when they were too cold, but his hands were
warm -- indeed, they were hot. Lord Charles kissed her
neck while one hand passed across her belly to the
joining of her thighs. Suddenly, the idea of his entering her
body seemed less frightening and more exciting.

"Now, dearest Bessie, 'tis time for you to enjoy one of
the pleasures of being mine." He tugged the bell pull
twice. Both Mary and James came into the sitting room.
They had climbed the back stairs in less than two
minutes. "Mary, prepare a bath for Bessie here." Mary
led her upstairs to his dressing room. He knew that the
tub was already prepared. "James."

"Yes, milord."

"My robe is already in my room?"

"Yes, milord."

"Then prepare me for bed." They went up together, and
James did as he was bid. He put the clothes in a
wardrobe and helped him on with the robe.  After turning
the blanket and sheet onto the left-hand side of the bed
and laying the bolster over them, he left. Since there was
no bath involved in his preparations, Charles knew that
Bessie would take much longer. He waited in a chair,
reading the recently-published "Don Juan." The fire was
high and warmed the entire room. He did not need the
blankets to warm him. The book seemed, despite the
coyness of its language, somehow appropriate.

Bessie had never enjoyed so large a tub as the one she
saw. Mary helped her undress as no one had in the past
decade. The water was hot, the soap turned to creamy
suds.

"There is more hot water on the hob, Miss, when you
want it," Mary said when Bessie was lying back in the tub
with only her head above water.

"No, thank you. I've never had so hot a bath."

"Well, Miss, it is there." She handed her a washcloth for
her face. When Bessie handed it back and rose to wash
her body, Mary handed her another cloth. Both of them
looked like they had been cut from a bolt of linen rather
than cut from a piece of  ruined cotton clothing. When
she stepped out of the tub, Mary dried her. She handed
her an expensive-looking nightgown when she reached
for her clothes. "These will be washed before morning,
Miss," she said. "Milord is expecting you in there." Mary
pointed at a door. Bessie opened the door. She'd never
seen so many candles burning except in a church. Lord
Charles rose and put down his book.

"You look even lovelier like that," he said. Bessie
blushed. The nightgown left the tops of her breasts
uncovered and was thin enough to reveal the rest of her
shape. "Come here." When she did, he kissed her again.
His hands roamed her back and buttocks. When he
licked her lips, she opened them in surprise. His tongue
entered her mouth. When her tongue met it, she felt a
stirring in her loins. "Come." He led her in front of the fire.
He turned her to face it and stood behind her. He kissed
the side of her neck while his hands cupped her breasts.
"Are you too warm?" he asked. In truth, between the fire
and the caresses, she was beginning to sweat.

"Yes, milord."

"Charles. When we are alone in this room, you are to call
me 'Charles'." He lifted the nightgown at her shoulders.

"Milord!"

"But you said that you were warm." He kept lifting it. She
had said that she was his; she raised her arms to let it
come off. "You are truly beautiful." He turned her in his
arms and kissed her once more. When his mouth left
hers, it continued to her face, her neck, her breasts.

Charles was finding his new acquisition quite delightful.
Her bath had left her smelling attractive. Her shape was
everything he'd guessed from her clothes. She hadn't
turned into a doxie now that the bargain was sealed. He
didn't want temporary monopoly on a doxie; he wanted
total possession of a pure girl. She'd go with other men
when he was done with her, and why not? But he would
share her with not even a memory while she was his.

Bessie had agreed to this with her eyes open. It meant
pain once, but she had known pain. It meant eating for
the next year, eating for the rest of her life if he kept those
promises. Had he thrown her down on the couch after
she had agreed, she would have closed her eyes and
opened her legs. This teasing, this kissing, this stripping
her in the light of all those candles, was producing a real
anxiety. She knew how the evening would end. She no
longer had any idea what would come in between. Even
so, the kisses were exciting. Being asked to call him
'Charles,' being waited upon by a maidservant, these
opened up exciting possibilities just as his kisses and
possessive hands raised a different kind of excitement.

Charles moved back slightly without breaking the kiss.
He passed his hand down her front. He caressed her
throat, stroked her breast and tweaked the nipple,
appreciated the firm belly, played with the hair on her
mound. He touched both thighs momentarily before he
reached her lower lips. He rubbed the outer ones
together before parting them. He stroked the inner ones
once before parting those. His finger entered her far
enough to feel her hymen. It was intact, as he had
expected. She would truly be his. As he removed his
finger, he passed it over her little nubbin. She gasped.

"My lord!"

"Charles. I want to hear you call me Charles."

"Charles." She could not think what to say to him after
that. He didn't wait for her to continue.

"Don't you think it is time for us to go to bed?"

"Yes, Charles." Whenever he suggested it was the right
time.

"You will take the right-hand side." He led her around the
bed to the part which had been stripped to a sheet.

Bessie sank down into the feather bed. She appreciated
the linen sheet which appeared to never have been
darned. When Charles pushed her down, she lay on a
soft pillow. Soon he was kissing her again. The kisses
soon left her mouth. They trailed to her ear, her neck, her
breasts. That was all pleasantly exciting. When they
trailed lower, however, Bessie grew nervous. The tongue
digging into her navel tickled, but the trail of kisses went
even lower.

When Charles reached the hair on Bessie's groin, he knelt
on the bed. He walked on his knees until he was between
her legs. She looked worried, but not resistant. Good!
But her acceptance was not enough. The price of
acceptance was three pence. He wanted her enthusiasm.
He began kissing her thighs. As he approached the mons
veneris, Bessie must have realized his destination.

"No, milord. That is not right." Kissing a woman there! A
lord kissing a woman there! Being kissed there!"

"Au contraire, Bessie." Damn! The girl's parents were
farm laborers. She probably didn't know even that much
French. "Just the opposite, Bessie. That kiss is right. For
one thing, it's my right. You said that you belonged to me,
didn't you?"

"Yes, milord. . . Charles."

"Then I can kiss any part of my possession that I choose
to. Right?"

"But. . . ."

Having won the argument, Charles returned to her thigh.
The kisses began a little closer to the knee than they had
ended. Soon enough, though, he got a whiff of her aroma.
She might argue, but she had been aroused. He
proceeded towards his goal.

When Lord Charles kissed the very top of her thigh, so
intimately that his cheek was pressed against her parts,
Bessie held her breath. First his fingers parted her lower
lips; then his tongue crept between them. She knew that
was wrong; but when she'd consented to be his, she'd
consented to his doing with her what he willed. Obeying
him, for that matter obeying a lord, was right.

Charles enjoyed the taste of her arousal as he licked her
inner lips apart. Then, he lapped up the juices there with
his tongue going higher in her groove at every lick. This
was his, he exulted. Soon, he'd be basting his member in
these juices. Bessie's thighs against his shoulders felt more
relaxed now.

Bessie's worries that this kiss was wrong were being
rapidly displaced the realization that the feelings were so
right. When she felt his tongue on some other location
down there, the thrill was electric. She moaned.

"Oh!"

Charles smiled. He'd achieved the effect he wanted. He
licked her lips twice more, always ending at her nubbin.
Then he straightened until he was kneeling above her.
"Hand me that bolster from your left." With the bolster in
his right hand, he lifted her clear from the bed with his left
arm under her knees. After checking that the linen pad
would be on top, he shifted the bolster under her sweet
bum and lowered her onto it. Now, her coign was raised
to welcome him -- first his mouth. He left her knees well
bent, and returned to kissing her thighs. By this time, her
aroma alone was enough to arouse him.

Bessie knew where Lord Charles's mouth was headed
this time, and the bolster had raised his target to
prominence. She was still somewhat embarrassed, but
she was more eager for those delightful sensations to
begin again. Then, they did; and she reveled in her
feelings.

Charles doffed the robe. Then he slipped one hand and
then the other under her thighs and around the bolster.
Soon he had a breast in each hand. His tongue played
with the nubbin while his thumbs played with her nipples.
He could feel her tense in his arms.

Bessie was feeling sensations from her breasts and her
center. The warmth flowed back and forth. Then it all
concentrated in her center, right under Lord Charles's
mouth. Something down there was drawing tighter and
tighter. When it broke, it sent fire shooting through her.
She groaned.

"Gahh!"

When Charles heard that sound and felt Bessie's spasm
beneath his mouth, he sucked on her nubbin and pinched
each nipple. He pulled back as her motions almost threw
him off. He pulled his arms back from under her legs to
move up in the bed over her. His left arm braced on the
edge of the bed, his right hand fitted his member to her
entrance.

Bessie was still glorying in the aftereffects of the pleasure.
It had sent her spiraling into the sky, and she stll saw stars
when she heard Lord Charles talking to her from an inch
above her face.

"Taste yourself," he said as he adjusted his posture for a
straight thrust. He kissed her and licked her tongue. "You
see, dear Bessie, that the kiss is your right as much as it is
mine. If a woman. . . ." He drove himself forward, not
stopping until he was buried in her center.

"Ow!" Bessie exclaimed. It hurt, and she had stopped
worrying minutes ago. But Lord Charles was staring into
her eyes, continuing his discourse.

". . . must gather honey from thorns, she should taste the
honey before she feels the thorn." Charles gloried in the
feel of Bessie's warm tightness all around him. She was
his! He watched her face relax from the first shock at the
pain that had caused her yelp. "That pain will never
happen again." Bessie knew that. Everybody said that the
first time hurt. And, to tell the truth, it hadn't been all that
bad; she'd had switchings far more painful; and they'd
lasted much longer, too. Then she felt him move out and
in again. That brought a little twinge, like the shadow of
the first pain. It also brought  back some of the
excitement that she had felt during the kiss. His hands
were warm on her breasts, and that warmth spread to the
rest of her body.

Charles felt Bessie's firm young breasts fill his hands while
her tight pussy gripped his member as it slid back and
forth. The feelings were exquisite, and he slowed his pace
to savor them. The look on Bessie's face had gone from
pain to a semblance of pleasure. Then her expression
turned inward as though she were contemplating a deep
problem. He hoped it was himself she was considering,
for he was certainly in her depths. Great as the pleasure
he received from his slow stroking though Bessie's warm
slickness, his arousal would not permit its continuance.
He sped his pace, rushing towards his release.

Bessie was soaring on her own feelings when she felt
Lord Charles pumping faster and faster within her.
Somehow, this increase in speed took her over some
fence. She felt the fire shoot through her again.

Charles felt Bessie clutch around his member as it made
one of its final strokes. That grasp took him over the top.
He thrust deeply and pulsed out his seed into her matrix.
Her last two clutchings milked him dry. He dropped onto
her softness.

Bessie held Lord Charles in her arms as they both gasped
for breath. He lay on her body as another part of him
escaped her grasp. Finally, he raised himself and spoke.

"I'll get to my own side, now." Charles moved off Bessie
and burrowed under sheet and blankets. He tossed the
sheet over her. "You may push the bolster off that side of
the bed if lying on it is uncomfortable. We don't need it
any longer." James could collect it in the morning. The
blood on the cover and the pad would be a trophy to
remind him of this night.

Bessie discarded the bolster. She drew the covers over
her. They were hardly needed in so warm a room. She
was happy she'd accepted the offer. She'd expected the
pain; it was a small price to pay for a full stomach and a
warm roof over her head for as long as the bargain would
last. The pleasure had been unexpected. She was content
-- sleepy but content.

Charles turned on his side facing her. He knew that the
hot fire would burn down soon -- all the sooner for the
present heat. His back, towards the fireplace, would cool
last. Bessie, cooling first, would have no other source of
warmth but cuddling with him. After his recent climax, he
content to wait for that cuddle. This had been a good
evening, and it augured well for the evenings in their
future.


The end
Right
Uther Pendragon
nogardnePrethU@gmail.com

My thanks to Denny for editing this.



For the index to all my stories:
<a
href="http:www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/www/index.htm">
Index to Uther's website </a>
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