Message-ID: <60587asstr$1281849006@assm.asstr.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} repost "Frances 1942" Uther -- (mf 1st)
Lines: 434
Date: Sun, 15 Aug 2010 01:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Frances 1942
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net


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, 2004, 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 and any resemblance to
persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frances 1942
by Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com


When Frances Schwartz got home from school, her mom greeted her with one
word, "Letter."

"From Jim?"

"Sorry. It's from Eleanor. She wants you to come visit her in the White
House. Don't be too disappointed."

It was, of course, from Jim. "Mom, he's getting here in three days."

"That's real news. Maybe we should mark it on the calendar. Oops! Sorry.
Friday's taken. Seems to be marked 'Jim.'"

"Mom!"

"Honey, I'm only teasing. Of course, you're excited. From Friday 'til he
ships out, I'll try to keep your sisters and brother out of your hair. Hal
will worship him in his uniform, and you have to allow some time for that.
And his mother, you know, will want to see him, too. Look, I want to talk to
you after the others have their snacks."

So Fran went to the girls' bedroom to read the letter over again. Jim would
get in Friday night. Saturday they would try to get some time alone.
'Alone.' He was almost certainly thinking what she was. Before he went off
to training camp they had necked every chance they got, but they hadn't gone
any farther. She wasn't going to send him off to be shot by the Nazis with
only a kiss. But how could they get alone? She had two sisters and a
brother. Jim had one of each, and Jim's father was at home when he wasn't
working. They couldn't put plans in their letters. A censor probably read
his mail. She kept his letters under lock and key, but she was never sure
that Hal couldn't pick the lock on the box.

When the others had run outside, she went to her mom's room. "Fran, you
expect Jim to be shipped out soon, don't you?"

"Yes. He hasn't been told, but...."

"Loose lips sink ships. But you don't train all those soldiers in war time
to sit around the garden. I just want to be sure that you aren't hoping for
some magic reprieve."

"I know better," Fran said. "And Jim wouldn't want it. He volunteered."

"And you're planning to give him a hero's farewell."

"Mother!" Had Mom been reading the letters? Did she even know what that
meant? Should Fran pretend that she didn't know?

"Now, Fran. This is a time for plain speaking. Do you really think I sent my
hero off with only the kiss I gave him in front of you children?"

"Mother!" That was horrible. In the first place, Fran didn't like to think
of her parents that way. In the second place, her dad was in the service of
supply -- necessary but hardly heroic. It always embarrassed her when mom
talked like this. And, she could tell, it was going to get worse.

"Now, will this be your first time?"

"Mother!"

"Well, I don't want my daughter's first time to be behind some hedge. And
Jim won't be at his best Friday night. So, I would like to see Jim, too; and
Hal will be devastated to see so little of him. But I really think I'm going
to have to take the rest of the family to visit your grandparents Saturday
and Sunday. I've been saving up gas coupons; railroad tickets are impossible
these days. They'll miss seeing you, but they'll understand. Does that
suit?"

"That's kind of you."

"It's better than some park somewhere. I'm tempted to offer you this bed.
Now, do you know what this is?" It was a long tube of thin rubber -- a
'rubber.' Fran knew what it was; how did her mom know? "Use it. I raised
five babies; I'm too old to help on a sixth.

"And," her mom continued, "when you thread a needle, you don't put the
thread in the needle's eye. Instead you move the eye around the thread.
Think about that." Fran didn't have any idea what that was about, but she
wasn't about to ask. She was blushing deeply enough already.

"Remember your first dance?" Mom went on.

"Yes."

"Dance better now, don't you?"

"Yes." Well, so long as 'now' included the time before Jim went to camp

"Still remember the first dance, though, don't you? Love remembering it?
This is something of the same thing. You'll get better at it, get more of a
certain kind of pleasure after you're more experienced. But your first time
is something to look back on. That's why I don't want you out in some park
lying on some dirty blanket."

"Mother!" By now, Fran must have been blushing scarlet.

"I considered offering you this bed. But you don't really need more room.
Your own bed will hold a lot of memories. But take your time. We'll be gone
for much longer than you'll need, and you'll want lots of memories."

"Mother!"

"Let's go. We have dinner to fix."

And they fixed dinner. The oddest foods were scarce, but Mom was a skilled
cook.

Mr. Bridges took Fran down to the train station with the family to meet Jim.
Jim was deeply tanned. Fran held back 'til Jim had greeted his family, but
then he swept her into an intense kiss. He was so solid hugging her, more
muscle and less bone than last time. They let Fran off at her house while
they took Jim back, but he came later for supper. Mom put Jim at the head of
the table with Fran and Hal on either side. She didn't once tell Hal to let
other people talk. But, when the meal was over, Mom ordered Hal, Betty, and
Sue all to clean the table and wash the dishes.

"But, Mother...." Hal said.

"And, when we're done, it will be your bedtime. All three of you." Mom
supervised cleaning the table and putting the food away in the icebox. You
could hear her heels all the way across the dining room, and Jim was sitting
down apart from Fran when she arrived in the living room. "Well, Jim," she
said, "it is nice to see you back. I hope to see more of you, but we're
going to be spending this weekend with my parents."

"Fran didn't tell me." Jim sounded betrayed.

"That's because she isn't going." Jim looked happier at that news. Then he
looked at her. She looked down trying not to blush.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She saw the family off Saturday morning. Sue and Betty looked eager to see
Gramps and Gramma; Hal looked, and sounded, rebellious. Fran was perfectly
willing to help Mom tie Hal up and stuff him in the trunk, but it didn't
come to that.

First, she cleaned the girls' room and took a bath. When Jim came over, he
took her out to lunch. As the meal drew to a close, she became more nervous,
but Jim didn't say anything. When they got in the house, he took her in his
arms to kiss her. She felt his hardness against her stomach. He, at least
was ready. She felt unready, less ready than she'd felt for the past two
weeks. Then Jim said, "Your mother trusts us. I feel like a sneak."

Somehow, his hesitation eased hers. "You didn't make any promise to her;
make one to me now."

"Anything."

"You'll come back to me."

"I can't promise that. Most of us will come back, but...."

"Then I don't want you going off without ever.... Come with me." She led him
up to the girls' room.

When she turned to him after closing the door, he pulled her into his arms
for another kiss, as intense as the one at the station. It turned more
intense, with his hands on her bottom and, then, one on her breast. When he
moved that hand to the buttons on her dress, she began to unbutton his shirt
as well. She'd seen him without a shirt, of course, but she had never
touched the skin of his back. She pulled up his undershirt in back to do so
now. When her dress was open, he fumbled with her brassiere. She was glad he
didn't know how one worked, but she was impatient. "I will," she said.

"Oh, Fran," he said when she turned back to him from putting her clothes on
her dresser. He kissed her again.

"You too." she said, stepping back. He removed shirt and undershirt, putting
them on the foot of her bed. They'd be in the way there, but a modest girl
couldn't say so. His hug this time pressed her breasts against the hair on
his chest. Her arms wrapped around his back, and she gloried in all that
warm skin before losing herself in the kiss.

She sat on her bed to take off her shoes and socks. "You too," she repeated.
Jim sat down on Betty's bed and went to work on his boots. Since they took
longer than her shoes did, she lay down waiting for him in only her
underpants. When Jim came over, he was in his own underpants. They were
khaki.

The clothes he'd lain at the foot of her bed weren't in the way for long. He
swept them onto the floor. Then he was lying down next to her and kissing
her. His kisses went all over her face and down her neck. When he reached
her breasts, he kissed her nipples. She hadn't imagined how good that would
feel. Then he stopped. "Fran?"

"What?"

"You gasped."

"It's all right." She pulled his head down to her left breast again. His
hand went to her right one. She spent the next minutes (hours ?) in
paradise. When her nipple began to get sore, she took his face in both hands
and moved it to her right breast. His hand went down to her thighs and then
to her underpants without needing any suggestion from her.

She'd thought his mouth on her breast was paradise, but this was even
better. She reveled in his touch. He kissed her mouth again, then all over
her face. When he returned to her mouth, his finger touched her inside her
underpants. Soon, though, he crawled between her legs. This time, when he
kissed her, she felt his chest hair tickle her nipples. She could feel his
hardness against her thigh. His kiss was firm against her mouth, and she
hugged him firmly back. She had her arms around his smooth back and her legs
around his hairy legs. He raised his head above hers. "Darling," he said,
staring her in the eyes.

"Darling Jim," she responded. He kissed her again, but his hands returned to
her underpants. She pushed his shoulder. She couldn't have moved him if he'd
resisted, probably couldn't before he went to training camp and grew all
those muscles. But he rolled aside. "Do you want me to take these off?" she
asked. She didn't have to say what. She was only wearing underpants and two
hair clips.

"Oh, yes."

"Then ..." she rolled out of bed and opened the top drawer in the dresser.
She unrolled a handkerchief from her pile and showed him the rubber it had
concealed. "... you put this on."

He took the rubber from her and turned his back. She stripped off the
underpants and took out the hair clips for good measure. She was under the
sheet when he turned back around. It was sticking out, not at all what she
would have expected. But, then, it had been five years since she'd seen
Joseph's. And Joseph had died as an infant.

After Jim got into bed, they lay looking at each other for a minute. He
didn't seem to know any more about this than she did. She lay back and
spread her legs. He slowly got himself between her legs. Then they had to
get the sheet back on top of them.

He kissed her face, and then down to her breasts. When his mouth came up to
hers, his organ was pressed against her down there. He moved back a little,
and reached down to adjust himself. Thinking he needed a clear field, she
spread her legs wider. He parted her lower lips, and she felt his organ
between them. It was pressing into her bone. "There?" he asked. She shook
her head. She reached down to put it where the blood flowed out every month.
"There?" he asked again and pressed harder against that place.

It hurt a bit, but girls said it would. "Right there."

"But," he said, "It's not going in." And then he pushed harder, and it did.
She winced. "Did it hurt?" he asked.

"No," she lied. He slowly went in further, hurting much less.

"Oh, Fran," he said when he seemed to be in completely.

She held him tight. It had hurt for a moment; but she was a woman, and he
was her man. They were joined. "Can you stay like this for a minute?"

"Yes. Tell me when to move."

After two deep breaths, she said, "Now." He moved out and in again. It
didn't hurt at all, and she felt her love for him return and intensify. She
ran her hands up his arms and down his back, feeling all the new muscles
flex as he moved.

Her hands ended up clasping his bottom. Here, larger muscles were tightening
and loosening. He moved faster now.

"Oh, Fran. Damn, damn. Damn!" He pushed into her hard and was rigid above
her. She could feel his bottom shiver under her hands and his organ shiver
somewhere deep inside. Then he suddenly fell on her. He was heavy, but he
was her love; she was never going to let him go. She moved her left arm up
his back to hug him and squeezed his bottom with her right hand. All that
muscle was soft, now.

"I must be heavy," he finally said. He moved out of her and then aside. He
lay on her left arm the first time and lifted himself so she could extract
it. They kissed quietly, and she ran her fingers through the hair on his
chest. This was what Mom had meant. This was something to remember, this
quiet time together without the anxiety which had gone before.

Soon, though, he left her to go into the bathroom. She heard the toilet
flush and the water run in the sink. He came back in his underpants. "I did
hurt you!"

What had he expected? "Huh?"

"There was blood. Not much, but blood." In that case, there was probably
blood on the sheet. But there were more important things to worry about
right now.

"Well," she asked, "are you going to make it up to me?"

"If I can."

"Then take those off and come back in here."

He followed her commands. When she saw his organ hanging down, it looked
less odd. Still awfully big, though. Had all of that really gone inside her?

They kissed softly. He began stroking her. She was wondering if she dared
stroke him back when she noticed that he'd fallen asleep. Just like a
married couple, they were lying together. After a minute, she turned her
back and snuggled against him. The weather was too warm for this, but the
future was too ominous to move away. And, of course, there wasn't all that
much room in the narrow bed.

She was almost asleep herself when he said, "I'm sorry."

She took his hand and placed it on her breast. "Lots of time. They're not
coming back 'til tomorrow."

"I have to eat supper at home tonight."

"But not," she reminded him, "for hours yet." She turned around and kissed
him. Necking was different without clothes. He moved down in the bed to kiss
her breasts, and his hand went where it had never gone when she'd been
dressed. When she rolled onto her back, he took his hand away; but she
reached over to put it back.

If he could touch her, she could touch him. She stroked his chest from his
shoulder to his taut belly. went back to his shoulder and stroked down to
his belly button. When she went past the belly button on the third stroke
his hand stopped moving. She looked over at his face, which seemed to be
scowling. "Oh, Fran," he said when her fingers touched his organ.

He stroked her again while her fingers explored him. Since he was hardening
in her hand, it was a less informative exploration than it could have been
-- fun, though.

"I washed it out," he said. "We can use it again."

"Hmm?" She hadn't thought of that; she hadn't even known it was possible.

"Let's kiss some more," he said. Though the answer seemed to be taking her
response for a negative she hadn't intended, the suggestion itself sounded
great. They did kiss some more. She kept her hands to herself while Jim
stroked all of her. When she felt ready, she reached for his organ again.
Its hardening in her hand felt more familiar. "Fran, I'm ...."

"You said you could use it again." He turned over at that. He could use the
rubber again, but it took more work than she'd expected. On the other hand,
it was interesting to watch. He left the sheet off when he knelt between her
legs this time. She reached down to position him, bracing herself as she
did.

It didn't hurt in the least, though. Jim adjusted his position above her,
and she adjusted her legs as well. He kissed her before moving. She ran her
hands all over him. When he stopped to kiss her again, his tongue entered
her mouth. The contact of tongues was exciting. His chest hairs tickling her
nipples was exciting; so was stroking all over his body and feeling those
muscles flex as he entered her and withdrew. Even the motion within her
became exciting. "Oh, Jim," she said.

She felt herself push up as Jim pushed down. "Darling!" he said as he
stiffened and quivered deep within her.

"Darling," she answered. She hugged him tight as he lay on her again.

He moved off, and they kissed for a while. He fell asleep again. He'd
written her about that; never getting enough sleep, they'd learned to nap
anywhere -- lying down, sitting up, even marching.

Well, if she couldn't talk to him, she could look at him. She brought his
hand up to her lips to kiss it. Then she raised herself up to examine him
closely. His organ was lying down, looking even less threatening like that.
It looked a little silly, though, with the rubber draped off its end. His
face, despite the tan, looked so peaceful. This was a soldier trained to
kill; this was the man who'd just taken her virginity; but he looked like a
little boy.

When he woke, it was nearly time for him to go home. Dressing together felt
more intimate than the sex had. "Can we ever?" he asked.

"I don't know. Tomorrow, maybe. Then they'll be back."

"I can get another of those," he said.

"Try. I'll try to get time." But it wouldn't be like this; they couldn't lie
together afterwards.

After he was gone, she looked at the sheets. There was a little blood on the
bottom sheet, and she took it into the bathroom to soak in cold water in the
bathtub. Later, she removed it and took it downstairs to crank through the
mangle. She took another bath and got another sheet. The old top sheet was
her new bottom sheet when she made the bed again.

Well, when the war was over, they'd sleep in the same bed. They'd sleep in
the same bed for the rest of their lives.

The End
Frances 1942
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2004/08/26
2005/05/18
2010/08/14


The index to almost all my stories:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm
<1st attachment begin>

<HTML removed pursuant to http://assm.asstr.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy>
<1st attachment end>

----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+