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WINDMILL old him from the bedroom door
"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 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 is indexed in the subdirectory:
wl.txt
Wedded Lust
The directory to all my can be found at:
index.txt