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From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} repost "'Forgiven'" {Uther} (MF rom preg wl)
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Date: Sun, 24 Oct 2010 06:10:08 -0400
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                           "FORGIVEN"
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com

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, 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.

                      #     #      #     #

                           "FORGIVEN"
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com


"Because it's difficult to catch an excited Alexander you've
mistaken for a match," Bob Brennan concluded.  He closed the book
and passed it to his wife.  Jeanette laid it carefully on the
nightstand, but she made no effort to conceal the laughter
shaking her belly a few inches from Bob's face.

     "You are a goofus, you know," she said.

     "If you had any idea how many fathers don't ever read to
their kids you wouldn't make fun of my early start with Oswald.
Besides it's a Grant ritual.  Do you think my mother is a
goofus?"

     Jeanette had too much respect for Katherine Grant Brennan to
answer that question.  "The books say that Penelope doesn't have
any aural nerves yet.  I think that you are rushing things.  Come
on up and talk to *me*."

     "Okay.  Sleep tight, little Quentin; it's time for Daddy to
pay Mommy some attention."  He began to kiss a circle around her
navel.  When Jeanette pulled at his shoulders, he slowly moved
higher, stopping to kiss and lick the underside of her breasts.
He moved on to the nipple on the far breast, not leaving it until
Jeanette was breathing shallowly.

     "Now what ..."  He kissed her lightly on the lips "... did
you want ..."  He pressed his mouth on a slant across hers and
licked her lips inside and out. "... to talk ..."  He went into a
full-kiss mode, with his tongue playing with hers when it wasn't
exploring her whole mouth. "... about?  Huh?"  He dropped back on
the pillow and looked at her with eyebrows raised in dramatic
inquisitiveness.

     Jeanette took a minute before replying.  "Oh, I don't know,"
she said.   She stroked slowly downward across Bob's chest and
abdomen.  "Use any oral communication that you consider
appropriate."  Bob caught her hand just as it reached his pubic
hair.  He brought it to his mouth and sucked each finger briefly.

     "Oh, I love you," he said before rolling over to resume the
kiss.  And he did love her, the quick mind almost as much as the
graceful body.  He wanted to ravish her, bury himself in her
until he was sharing space with the atom of life that their love
had created; but he wanted to shelter her, and that atom, from
all possible injury.  He caressed all that he could reach of her
during the kiss.  He stroked her arm and torso as well as her
breast and thighs.  Finally he hugged her as tight as the
position allowed.

     She returned the hug.  Lying under Bob was always
comforting, whether it was the shelter of that muscular body, the
comfort of his evident love and regard for her, or the
expectation of pleasure to come.  There was both love and desire
in her hug, but mostly there was possessiveness.

     When Bob broke the hug, he broke the kiss as well.  He
scattered a few quick kisses over her chin and throat, but he
slowed down when he got to her near breast.  He kissed a spiral
path upward until he reached the peak.   There, he tried to lick
her areola without touching the nipple.  Jeanette shivered and
pulled his head down where it belonged.  "Get your fill, dear,"
she said.  "Rachel will have precedence soon enough."

     "I wouldn't get my fill if I stay here for the next seven
months," he protested.  "Samuel will have to learn to share."
But he went back to sucking her nipple all the same.  His hand,
which had been holding her breast up to his mouth, strayed lower.
She squeezed it between her thighs for a moment, before opening
them in welcome.

     Bob would have denied under oath the mere possibility of
petting his wife's vulva absentmindedly.  This time, however, his
attention was on her breast.  While he licked, lipped, and sucked
an elaborate pattern, his hand did what it had a thousand times
before.  Jeanette, too, was concentrating on the dear head that
she still held.  The welcome tension was a background heightening
the pleasure from Bob's teasing attack on her nipple.

     Her climax took both of them by surprise.  She let go of
Bob's hair to grasp his wrist.  She pulled his hand into the
epicenter of her shuddering pleasure.  Bob did his best to stroke
her bud in time with her hips' motions.  He sucked in time with
her moans.

     God! but he loved her.  His love was continual; his desire
flared a dozen times a day ignited by random glimpses, sounds of
her in another room, memories while away.  The sensual ultimate,
though, was to feel her ecstatically writhing under him in
response to his loving ministrations.

     Jeanette held on to him as she soared and blazed in joy.
This was her love, the man who brought her to this glorious
point, the anchor who could be trusted to bring her back.  Then
she was back; and the glory was fading to a memory, a memory to
be treasured.

     The hand which had clutched his hand to her now pushed it
away.  He abandoned her breast immediately.  Dropping down beside
her, he held her one shoulder and kissed the other while she
panted in his arms.  "Words cannot express how much I love you,"
he said.  He tried anyway.  "Darling, sweet; lovely, lovely,
Jeanette.  Oh, God, you are so wonderful."

     Held in his arms, lulled by his voice, she rebuilt herself
slowly.  He was reciting impossibilities, but she was too busy to
refute them.  Her breath and his spate of words slowed at the
same time.  "Beloved," he said, and hugged her across the
shoulders so as not to interfere with her breathing.

     "Beloved," she responded.  She turned her face toward his
and they had a quiet kiss.  He sprinkled her face with kisses
when she needed to breathe again.  Finally, he rested on one
elbow.  He was far enough above her that they could both focus
their eyes.  Love flowed between those eyes until she had to look
away.

     "Are you ready to turn on your side?"  She turned away in
response.  A minute later, he was resting his head on the inside
of her right thigh, while her left leg was bent and turned to
give him room.  She turned a little more so she could look
between her breasts to see his eyes.  She reached back with her
left hand, and he moved his right calf forward until she could
hold it comfortably.  He gave a ritual kiss to the bottom of her
mons before spreading her lips and inserting his tongue.

     They had found this position just recently, and being able
to watch her face change in response to his actions was still a
fresh pleasure.   First, however, he parted the outer lips to see
the pink petals within.   "Hello, Theodore," he called.  While
Jeanette giggled at the newly-old joke, he took his first taste.
The taste seemed richer than in months past; and Bob wondered
whether it was her recent orgasm, the pregnancy, or his
overactive imagination.  He forgot that question, however, the
first time his tongue touched her clitoris.  Her eyes closed and
she gasped.  It could have been a sign of agony, but experience
told him that it was pleasure.  He tasted the rest of her valley
for a while, wanting to draw this out.

     Jeanette stared down her body at Bob's scowl of
concentration while he gained access to her seat of pleasure.
When he was satisfied, he looked up along her torso and into her
eyes.  Love glowed in his eyes, a love which ennobled the bodily
thrills that his tongue began to deliver.  She floated in
sensation and security.  Then the sensation took her away, and
only her grip on his leg anchored her.

     Bob saw her expression change and orchestrated his actions
to feed that response.  When her head jerked back, he knew that
the time was ripe.   He fastened his lips onto the clitoral area
and sucked while she spasmed and her legs clasped around him.
She clawed at his calf, and her thighs closed around his ears.

     Then she relaxed.  He gently kissed the point where the lips
met.   Then he had to extricate himself in order to return to a
hugging position.

     Flame possessed Jeanette, and then warmth suffused her, and
then she was cool except where Bob was hugging her.  "Covers,"
she requested.  Bob found the sheet and blanket, covered them
both, and tucked the corners under her shoulder.  He kissed her
tenderly on the temple.

     "Now you see why I was so eager to conceive Ulrica," she
said after a long, silent, cuddle.  "I expect this royal
treatment to continue."

     "You take care of Vernon, and I'll take care of you.  Is
there any other service that you want?"

     "Service?  Now *that* is an idea...."

     Bob's laughter interfered with the kiss, but it didn't slow
his climb between her legs.  They paused for a moment while
Jeanette adjusted the covers about his shoulders.  That done, he
kissed each of her breasts once.   As he came forward, she guided
him within.  He pressed forward slowly but didn't stop until he
was completely enclosed.  He kissed her nose and eyebrows before
taking up a slow, gentle rhythm.

     "I'm not made of glass, you know," Jeanette said.

     "Sea foam," he responded.  She was quite wet from their
foreplay, and he was enjoying the slow strokes in her slippery
warmth.

     Compliment or no, Jeanette still wanted the passionate
animal that her gentle scholar kept caged within himself; and she
knew just how to unlock that cage.  She scraped the nails of both
hands down his back, lighter than a scratch, harder than a
tickle.  Then she cupped his buttocks and pulled him forward.

     He couldn't resist that.  His strokes sped up as he hardened
even more.  "I can't...." he began.

     "Good," Jeanette responded.  She deliberately tightened
around him and pushed up to meet his stroke.  Bob raised his
torso above hers as his hips slammed his organ in and out.  His
scowl tightened into a fierce grimace as his pace quickened.
There was continuous hot friction at her gateway.   Then his
groin ground against hers while he twisted and pulsed and spurted
deep within her.  His climax brought hers, short but sweet.  She
could still hear Bob's grunts when she dropped back into
quiescence.

     Bob, almost always feeling desirous, seldom felt desired.
Jeanette's simple "good" goaded his mind as much as her tightened
clasp goaded his body.  Carnality drove him in and out of her
sweet slickness, then thrust him up into it, then shook him
against it.  He seemed to come forever.

     Then he was lying on Jeanette's softness, probably crushing
her breasts.  When he remembered the baby, he immediately rolled
off.  There was a stinging sensation on his seat.  It felt like
the aftermath of Jeanette's fingernails, but he hadn't noticed
the actual attack.

     "Are you okay," he gasped out.

     "Lonely."

     He rolled against her side, but didn't have the energy for
more until he got his breath back.  This time, she got the
tissues and turned off the lamp.  "I didn't hurt you did I?"

     "I told you," she answered.  "I'm not made of glass.  You
won't damage me, and you won't damage Wendy."

     "I want to be a gentle lover.  'She didn't require medical
attention,' isn't quite the criterion.  And a gentle parent.
I'll save my roughhousing with Ximenes until he is big enough to
fight back."

     "Jimenez??  *Hee May Nayth*, husband mine, is spelled with a
J.   Besides it is a last name."

     "That may be as that may be.  However *Hee May Naysss* is
spelled with an X.  He was the bishop who brought the inquisition
to Spain."  He waited for a joke on the Spanish Inquisition, but
Jeanette hadn't abandoned her challenge.

     "That's cheating.  How can I ever tell poor Yttria that her
daddy cheats?"

     "Yttria?"  He came to a belated awareness that her belly was
shaking under his hand.

     "Elementary, my dear Watson," she said.  Her laughter was no
longer silent.  Two beats later, he joined in.  He moved back
from her.  She turned sideways and followed him until they were
snuggled together.  He cuddled her belly for a minute before
moving his hand to her breast.

     "I hope, Zebulon," he said, "that you inherit your mother's
rare, earthy, sense of humor."  Jeanette was sure that there was
a joke inside the compliment.  She was still trying to figure it
out when she fell asleep.

     The End
     "Forgiven"
     Uther Pendragon
     nogardneprethu@gmail.com
     1997/06/22
     1997/10/26
     2000/05/21
     2010/10/23

This is one of a series of stories about the Brennans.

The next story in the series is:
foretold.txt  "Foretold"

The first story in the series is:
forever.txt  "Forever"

The directory to the entire series is:
brennan.txt


For a much different story about a much different couple
involving a pregnancy, see:
igrayne.txt  "Igrayne"

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