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This material is Copyright, 2010, 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 are figments of my imagination; any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
"My spouses, this is my daughter, Jennifer. Treat her well." She left the room.
The men were loosely lined up with a bench behind them. Jennifer had been coached on what to do. She walked to Dale, the first in line because he had married in first. He kissed her. When his tongue played with hers, he removed the clasps from her hair. The ponytail of an older girl fell into the locks of a young woman. She removed his shirt and tossed it onto the bench behind him. As she went on towards Greg, Dale tossed the clasps onto his shirt.
She removed Greg's shirt while he was kissing her. This business of tongues was as hot as they said it was. He removed her blouse, which went behind him. Rafe was tall enough that she had trouble with his shirt. When he bent down to kiss her, it came off easily. When he'd removed her bra, he kissed her nipples. They pushed out at the touch of his lips.
She was wearing three skirts. After John kissed her, his tongue roaming the inside of her mouth while she removed his shirt, he bent to kiss her nipples while untying her first skirt.
When Steve repeated the actions, he put as much extra eroticism into them as he could. He licked her nipples before kissing them and lightly sucked them afterwards; he trailed his fingernails across her belly on the way to untying her next skirt. Pete held her face while he kissed her. It interfered with unbuttoning his shirt. After untying her last skirt, he held her right butt cheek in his hand.
As predicted, she was tingling when she faced the row of men again. She was wearing nothing but her panties. This was her moment. She could choose, and there were actual arguments for several of them. She'd always be the youngest spouse available to Dale. He'd married in nearly a year before Deloris was born. If he were also her first spouse, she would keep that attraction for him for the rest of his life. Rafe was extremely intelligent for a man. He had more education than the rest. He would help the woman who made him her first spouse with her schoolwork until she was in a graduate program. As she looked at each in the line, she saw the trousers of the particular man being examined stretch outward.
But there was really only one choice for her. She walked deliberately up to Greg. His trousers, like those of the others, were belted by a rope tied in a bowknot. She pulled both ends of the knot. She watched the trousers drop and the phallus start to point upward.
"Greg again," several men whispered. But they watched politely as Greg kissed her again and kissed her nipples. When he dropped onto his knees, kissed her belly above the waist of the panties, and then removed the panties, the others applauded politely. Then Greg held her by the butt cheeks as he kissed her mound.
He rose gracefully and led her to the inner door by the hand. He was, now, the instructor. It didn't matter that she'd had the entire rite described to her. For that matter, there were only two doors; a boy could figure that the one which didn't lead to the hall led to the bed. The others bowed to them until the door was closed.
Greg stopped her near the door and drew her into another kiss. As his tongue explored her mouth, his hands explored her body. First, he gently rubbed her ears while holding her head to make the kiss firmer. Then, he smoothed his hands down her back, pressing her body against his more firmly. The phallus, the mystery of which she would learn this night, excited her as it pressed into her belly. He kneaded her butt cheeks, clenching his hands alternately. When his hands went up her sides, they finished holding her breasts. He stroked one nipple with one thumb, then the other with the other thumb. All these caresses fed her arousal now that she no longer had the audience to worry her. When he broke the kiss, he held her head while he kissed all over her face.
"Now the bed," he said and led her to it. It was a woman's bed, twice as large as the one she had slept in. He helped her lie down in the middle. Then he knelt on the bed while resuming kissing her face. A long kiss on the mouth, exploring it again, led to a kiss down her neck and chest to her left breast. He took what felt like a long time kissing and licking a spiral path up to the nipple. It was burning before he reached it. When
he did, she put a hand on his groin searching for his phallus.
"I'm the instructor tonight,"he said. "Sometimes men need the stimulation of a woman's hand. Tonight, I definitely do not. Giving me too much stimulation would cut this short."
"And if I want to cut it short?" Jennifer asked. Truly, she was enjoying the process. She both wanted it to continue and wanted the conclusion which had been described to her.
"Tonight, I am the instructor. You don't decide." He started to kiss a spiral up her right breast. As he was to her right, this had to be easier. Was that why he took even longer to reach the peak? When that nipple grew hotter in anticipation, the heat was shared with her belly. He took a break to kiss her ears while caressing her breasts with his hand. He kissed a line up her right breast and down what was usually the lower curve.
When he started kissing down her chest, the hand moved to her mound. That hand stoked the fires which his kisses had built there. When the kisses reached her navel -- that tickled -- his hand started playing with her labia. When his kisses reached her hair, he broke off to get off the side of the bed and walk to the foot.
Was this the main event? She hoped so. She parted her legs and raised her knees to get herself ready. She was certainly ready emotionally and in terms of internal secretions.
He knelt between her feet; but, instead of crawling over her, he began kissing her knees. He moved his head from one leg to the other as he moved upward towards her center. He used one hand on her mound to brush the hair back before delivering a sucking kiss to her outer labia. He parted these to lick her inner labia. That was as thrilling as any girl's kiss there had ever been. When she felt him raise his head to look at her, she raised hers. They eyed each other through the valley between her breasts.
"I like your taste," he said. She'd tasted her cousins there, as they had tasted her. No cousin had ever said that she liked the taste; nor had she ever liked theirs. It was something one did in reciprocation. When he lowered his head to resume the licks, she let her head drop back to the pillow. She stopped thinking to simply feel. His hands went up to cup her breasts and tease her nipples as his tongue continued its incitement. Arousal spiraled through her; but as her climax approached, she tried to delay it. This was, although it was a man's tongue, the girl's pleasure. It was not how one crossed the threshold to womanhood.
"No more," she whispered. He stopped and lifted his head.
"Much more," he said. Then his tongue was teasing her again. She couldn't fight him, could even less fight herself. Her attempts at delay only drove her arousal higher, only wound her tighter. She couldn't resist.
Then it broke. Spasm after spasm raced though her body. Still, his oral teasing continued. The climax lifted her hips off the bed, but his only concession was to grab her hipbones with his hands to hang on. Finally, when she could not possibly take more, he grasped her clitoris with his lips and sucked. The final spasm shook her spirit as well as her body. It also knocked him off.
When she became aware of her surroundings again, she was held in his arms.
"But," she said.
"Lovely Jennifer," he crooned. "You are safe in my arms. You are wonderful. You are here. This is your night."
"But that is not what I was told. . . ."
"That is not the key of the ceremony. It is, however, a fit beginning." Beginning! She'd need eight hours of sleep to rise from this bed. Further arousal was totally impossible.
Instead of pushing her, or even speaking further, Greg merely lay close beside her with his arm around her.
It was touching her, but not resting on her. Considering that even breathing was difficult now, she was vaguely glad that she didn't have to bear that weight. He occasionally kissed her shoulder. His phallus brushed her thigh, but he kept any idea he might have about using it to himself. That was fortunate, since he'd lost the chance. She could not stir from this position until morning.
Yet, when she awoke a few minutes later, she had turned on her side. Greg was cuddling her and his phallus was pressed against her back. His hand cupped her breast.
"Enjoy your nap, Jennifer?" he asked.
"Needed it." Indeed, her strength was restored. The arousal she had thought beyond her was beginning again. His hand moved on to the nipple. His other hand brushed the hair off her neck and he kissed her there. She shivered at the kiss.
"Jennifer," he said,"you have a mirror, you know how pretty you are to see." Actually, she was not the prettiest girl in the family. "What you can't know is how pretty you are to touch. 'Pretty' might not be the right word. Touching you is a delightful experience."
Being touched was becoming a delightful experience, too, as was being kissed. She was discovering that the back of her neck was an erogenous zone. So was her ear. And, as his kisses traveled down the side of her neck, her arousal grew apace. When he moved back, she rolled over onto her back hoping for a real kiss. Instead, he kissed her shoulder and the inside of her arm. That was a bit more ticklish than arousing.
The tickling stopped and the arousal doubled when he got to the palm of her hand. He sucked each of her fingers before dropping that pattern to kiss her forehead. He stroked her left breast while his mouth covered her face. When he got to her mouth, she was more than ready for him. His tongue met hers as he rolled her nipple between finger and thumb. She felt warmth spread though her, and then it concentrated in her belly.
He finally shifted his body on the bed. He kissed her right breast while his hand cupped her mound. She felt that this grip possessed her. As his hand held her sexuality, he somehow held her entire self. Strange to think of a man possessing anything, let alone a girl.
When he stroked her labia, though, she flowed for him -- not only her secretions but her emotions. When he sucked or licked her nipple, heat built in her vulva. When he stroked her clitoris, the heat spread throughout her body. This was great pleasure, at first. Before long, however, she began to thirst for completion.
"Greg," she said.
He raised his head from her breast to look in her face inquisitively. But she couldn't articulate her need.
When she began to undulate on the bed, though, he stopped stroking her for a moment. She had wanted that, but she didn't enjoy it. Her body wanted more, needed more. Her hand moved to where his had been although having a witness to self-satisfaction would be a great shame; that's why even the young slept in privacy. But, before her hand touched herself, it touched his arm. He was between her legs, and his hand was spreading her labia. She felt a shape smoother and larger than his fingers hold them apart.
"Lady Bettina told you that you were on the threshold of womanhood tonight," Greg said. "And so you are. And I'm at the threshold of your womanhood right now. We cross that threshold together. Feel it happen."
She felt the warm, blunt, wedge of his phallus part her labia and move slowly inward. She felt him stretching her, and the arousal was intense. This was a new sensation, the sensation of womanhood. When she felt full and he was pressing his delta against her entrance, she knew she was a woman now.
"Yessss," she said.
"Yes," he answered. He shifted his position to put a hand on each of her breasts. He bent down to kiss her. When he straightened, he began to move out of her. The motion, if less socially significant than the entry had been, generated as much sensual pleasure. He watched her face intently as his motions spiraled her arousal higher and higher. Finally, she shut her eyes to escape his gaze and concentrate on her own feelings.
These soon peaked. She gasped as she went over. She felt herself clench, gripping a phallus inwardly for the first time. She shuddered.
Then, his motions sped up. He moved out and in two or three times more. He drove in. She could feel him throbbing deep within her.
He dropped onto his elbows resting more of his weight on her belly and chest.
"So that is what it is," she said.
"That is what it is," he responded. "You are a woman now, Lady Wife. Welcome to adulthood."
"Thank you for the introduction."
"You are welcome. It was my pleasure, my great pleasure. Shall I move?"
"Please." He did. He lay on his side facing her.
"Lady Jennifer," he asked. "would you enjoy cuddling as before?"
She considered. It had been pleasant. Everything he'd shown her this night had been pleasant. She was
now a woman; his status as a teacher was done. The suggestion was phrased like that to acknowledge
their change in status. She turned away; then backed into his warmth. He put an arm around her. Lightly
clasping that hand, she went to sleep.
The end Rite Uther Pendragon nogardnePrethU@gmail.com 2010/01/07 For another story involving possible future mating ways, "Half" This story is indexed on the subdirectory: Mf -- Older men, younger women The directory to all my stories can be found at: Index to Uther Pendragon's Website