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From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} repost "Friday" -- Uther (MF best preg)
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Date: Tue, 17 Aug 2010 00:10:09 -0400
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"Friday" {Uther} (MF best preg)

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, 1998, 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.

                             = == =

                             Friday
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com



Whole modules have been written over crash weekends.  (And
many of them have been rewritten over the next month, but that's
another story.)  Never, however, in the history of the world has
anyone who is going to leave the office at five p.m. on Friday
written a line of code after noon.  The department works enough
midnights, it doesn't sweat the small stuff.  So, when I walked
out a little before 11:30 and two minutes after Mary, no-one
would have dreamed of clocking my time.

Ironically, Mary caught an elevator before I got there, and we
rode down separately.  I slowly caught up as she walked north. It
was an even day of the month, so she went first.  Easy to
remember, she has two; I have one.  She turned into a building
which we hadn't visited in months.  We rode up without speaking
and I followed her off on the eleventh floor.

She hit the down button.  No one was waiting with us, which
gave her a little advantage in her preparation.  The elevator was
nearly full, but they made space for the two of us.

"Anyway," she said in a quite low voice, "the stuff around the
door keeps the drafts out, but it creates a seal for the whole
apartment.  If the door opens while you're taking a shower, the
shower curtain blows inward."

"Probably," I said, "even if you're not taking a shower."  I
didn't know where this was going, but it was the obvious
comment.

"Maybe," Mary said, "but you notice it more when it's coming
towards you.  Anyway, there we were.  At first, he'd been
scrubbing my back.  You know how the dead skin accumulates back
there where you can't quite reach it."

"I use a loofah on a stick," I said.

"That can't get the right pressure, but I'll bet it gets your
back clean before it wants to do your front.  Anyway," she said
in a rising voice, "I wasn't using a loofah; he wasn't using a
loofah; he'd just abandoned the washcloth, for that matter.  Then
the curtain blew in on us.  Someone had opened the outer
door."

"My God," I said, "Your husband?"

"Worse!"

"Worse?" I exclaimed.  "How could it be worse?"

Mary looked around the elevator.  Our fellow riders tried to
pretend that they hadn't been listening.  "I'll tell you later,"
she said.

We left the building with the crowd and continued about two
blocks north.  I led her east a block, and then into the large
office building on the north side of the street.  We rode up in
the elevators serving the middle set of floors.

We walked along the hallway while those waiting got the down
elevator.  Unfortunately, others came along while we were waiting
for the next one.  "You live in an apartment," I told her.  "That
makes a difference."

"I think so," she said.  "Making a difference, I mean.  I
certainly live in an apartment."

"Well, you've seen my place," I said.  "But I've made changes
since then. I've put up a fence.  I still keep the front lawn
well-mowed."

"I'm glad," she said.  "I like a nice-looking lawn."

"And so does she," I said as the elevator finally came.  "She
likes a good-looking house.  And she's never denied that I keep
up the property, and that is a lot of land to keep up.

"I want you to understand this," I continued after our group
had crowded on the elevator.  "I would never try to keep a sheep
in an apartment."

"Wouldn't be practical," she said.

"At least without consulting my wife," I said. "But, out
there, we have such a large back yard."

"Yes."

"That it did seem practical.  And then there's AIDS.

"I would feel despicable," I continued in my most sincere
voice, "absolutely despicable, if Sally were infected by some
disease that I brought home from an encounter with a
prostitute."

"I'm sure that you would," she said.  "And you wouldn't feel
particularly happy for having it yourself."

"No," I said.  "But the child would be the worst.  So, you
see, the sheep was the logical choice.  But I wanted a woman's
opinion.  I think it's just the pregnancy talking, but if it's a
man-woman thing I should make my peace now.  She said that I
should have consulted her.  I felt that she had been effectively
consulted when she said 'no' so often when I....

"Uh, let's continue this in more privacy."  And I glared at
the rest of the people coming off the elevator with us.

The rest of the walk to the hotel was in silence, though she
shook with laughter once or twice.  She took out her card without
any discussion as we approached the desk.  I'd won that one, and
Mary is always a good sport.


     The End
     Friday
     Uther Pendragon
     nogardneprethu@gmail.com
     1998/01/11
     2000/02/16
     2001/08/30
     2002/03/11
     2004/04/23
     2010/08/16

For another story involving another couple,
see:
/~Uther_Pendragon/story/windmill.htm
"Windmill Saga"


This story is coded (MF best preg).

The code, best, means: Bestiality, sex with animals.

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"

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