"FOREST" {Pendragon} (MF rom wl cons) 


                             FOREST
                       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, 1996, 1997, 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.


                      #     #      #     #

                             FOREST
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com


Jeanette and I had originally planned our whole honeymoon as a 
hiking trip.  Jeanette's brother, Greg, had been aghast.  He had 
insisted on paying for two nights in a resort-style hotel near 
the trail.  Now I think he was right. 

     The first night was painful for her.  The day was a glorious 
day with Jeanette and luxury; I'm afraid that our newlywed status 
was obvious to everyone.  The second night as we were getting 
ready for bed I put the wrapped condom on the night table. 

     "Do you mind?" she said.  "I'm still sore." 

     "'Marriage is about sex.'  But sex isn't about intercourse.  
There's a lot of petting we can do." 

     "Putting that down seems to say, 'I'm going to have you 
tonight.'  I feel owned." 

     "We need it until you get something.  Do you want me to hide 
it somewhere?" 

     "That would be worse.  'I'm going to have you sneakily.'  I 
don't know.  I know you're not like that.  It's just how I feel." 

     "It's how you feel.  That's not 'just.'  How Jeanette 
Brennan feels is important.  Do you want to handle them?" 

     "Hmmm?" 

     "It does mean that you'd have to be overt in your 
decisions." 

     I was able to tease her out of her nightgown that night.  We 
didn't have intercourse, but I held my beloved skin to skin.  I 
stroked parts that night which had been denied me for three 
years.  We were kissing when she finally reached her orgasm, and 
I felt her gasp in my mouth.  She was frantic for a minute.  We 
were still kissing as she relaxed. 

     Wonderful as it had been to climax deep in her body the 
night before, I could accept a delay that paid erotic dividends 
like that gasp of delight. 

     The box of condoms had been among my things in the bathroom 
that night but not the next morning.  She said nothing, and I 
buried the second box at the bottom of my pack. 

     That morning we sent our suitcases back to my family on the 
bus, paid our bill with Greg's card, and started up to the trail.  
That night was our first in a tent.  It was easier to undress 
Jeanette that night.  Our petting was informed by some sense on 
both our parts as to what brought her response. 

     On the second night on the trail there was a condom by my 
side of the tent flap before I crawled into the sleeping bag, and 
I found a naked wife beside me afterward.  I took that as a 
license to seduce rather than an invitation to instant sex.  I 
explored all parts of her with my hands and her upper half with 
my mouth before I was sure that she was ready. 

     I eased into her more slowly than I had on our wedding 
night, since she now had no barrier which required an initial 
thrust.  We made the adjustments which the novelty of our 
position required.  When I began my stroke, she tried to match my 
rhythm and soon succeeded.  I thrust into that glorious smooth 
clasping, and her hips thrust back.  I withdrew to the tight 
portal, and she dropped back.  I pulled her to me by her 
shoulders, and she hugged me and tightened her legs. 

     I thrust deep into her as I came in convulsive spasms, and 
she sank back down in relaxation. 

     As soon as my breath returned, I resumed kissing and 
petting.  Within minutes, she had her own orgasm.  That was the 
pattern of our nights.  She was a compliant lover, turning eager 
in the course of my petting.  She would reach her peak before or 
after intercourse but not during. 

     The very intensity of my desire was part of the problem.  I 
had wanted this girl for years; I walked beside her all day; I 
petted her and sucked on her breasts.  At that point I was too 
turned on to last very long.  However, I was learning the pattern 
of her response, and she seemed no nearer orgasm when I lost my 
control than she was when I entered her.  I longed for the day 
when our intercourse was as exquisitely exciting for her as it 
was for me. 

     I kept these thoughts to myself.  Jeanette was a friendly 
companion by day and an amorous bride by night.  I am not idiotic 
enough to concentrate on the hole when the doughnut was so 
delightful. 

     We had scheduled a break for the end of the first week of 
our hike.  Six miles down a country road from the trail was a 
motel with a store and laundromat.  Hikers use it to get 
themselves and their clothes clean and to take a break from the 
trail as well as to start and end hikes.  We were going to take a 
day off, wash clothes, take showers, and sleep in a bed.  I had 
special hopes for that break.  I hoped that the greater mobility 
and the greater comfort possible in a real bed would provide an 
opportunity for the breakthrough that I had been awaiting. 

     We turned down the road that led to the motel in the early 
evening.  There wasn't time left in the day to do the jobs we'd 
scheduled for the break time.  Getting to the motel after dark 
would just cost us two nights' rent.  We'd look for a place to 
camp along the road. 

     At twilight, we found a good camping spot, left our packs, 
and went to the farmhouse that looked attached to those woods to 
ask permission. 

     One of the problems of a fully-equipped hike with a 
beautiful woman is that the pack and frame hide her hips from 
behind.  This walk, however, gave an unhindered view.  On a 
country road near dark, safety required that we go single file; 
and politeness required that the lady precede the gentleman.  
Jeanette may have noticed the day birds returning to their nests.  
I spent the entire quarter of a mile watching her hips tighten, 
relax, and sway slightly as they swung her marvelous legs in 
their all-day pace. 

     People like newlyweds.  The farmer gave us permission, and 
his wife gave us two glasses of iced tea. 

     The walk back was as scenic as the walk down, with 
Jeanette's hips moving with the slightly difference of walking 
uphill.  You have to look closely to see the difference, but I 
managed. 

     My mind held another thought as well.  I had been afraid of 
our sex life turning into something which was done for Bob.  
"Sometime," I thought -- as I had before -- "she has to realize 
that she is giving me permission to seduce her, not acceding to 
my pressure to have sex."  This would require a night when we 
petted, and it was *my* decision not to go further.  That was a 
hard decision with the sexiest woman in the southeastern United 
States in my arms.  "This, however," I thought, "might be the 
night." 

     The next day we would be in motel, in bed, after showers, 
behind locked doors.  I'd be shaven.  We'd check in before noon, 
and she might be amenable to a long matinee.  Tonight might be a 
good time for me to call a halt.  Then I concentrated again on 
her hips. 

     Setting up camp with a partner who knows what she is doing, 
what you are doing, and why, makes the Ice Capades look messy and 
inefficient.  If our team lowered its efficiency with an 
occasional smooch or hug, we hadn't brought a stopwatch.  We were 
trading off tasks day by day so that I was that night's cook. 

     After dinner I scrubbed the pans and then took the little 
spade to the next clearing in.  After I had covered over the hole 
I returned to find her, as usual, in the sleeping bag before me.  
The tent was not all that much bigger than the double sleeping 
bag, and we had our heads out the flap on a fine night like that 
one.  I stripped outside the tent, slipped into the bag, and 
stowed my clothes from there. 

     Finding her mouth in the dark had been a problem in the 
beginning, and we now made a game of it.  Where it had taken me 
20 seconds to get from her hairline to her mouth on the first 
night on the trail, it now took me several minutes to find my way 
from her shoulder.  I was kissing all the way, of course.  The 
mouth that I found was as firmly shut as her giggles allowed, and 
I had to push my tongue between her lips.  Then the game was 
over. 

     Her teeth opened, and her tongue darted to meet mine.  When 
she pulled me down into a hug, I felt her firm nipples pressed 
into my chest by her soft breasts.  I always have a tremor of 
fear that I am going to damage them or crush their lovely shape.  
Jeanette didn't seem to worry about that, however.  She hugged me 
tight against her. 

     With a slight shift, I freed my right hand so I could pet 
her side.  At that moment I was as helpless as I had ever been 
stroking inside her.  I could not have stopped that hand for a 
year's tuition.  Yet I was not touching her breasts and was 
passing over the least sexy part of her hips.  I was not groping 
her sexual parts, but I was holding Jeanette.  And I had to feel 
Jeanette right then.  She rolled her leg back and forth so her 
thigh rubbed against my erection, but that was mostly an 
acknowledgement.  When we broke the kiss, I settled down on my 
side.  She nestled back against me with her head on my arm.  I 
held her right breast and licked the back of her ear.  She held 
my hand against her breast and occasionally shoved her butt 
against me a little harder.  After a few minutes, I drew my head 
back.  My eyes had adjusted to the light, and the clearing 
outside looked bright -- if monochrome -- in the starlight. 

     We talked.  Does that surprise you?  Daylight is about 14 
hours in that season, and we'd been actually walking for more 
than 11 of that.  We were tired if not yet sleepy.  We didn't 
dive into a muscular session of sex. 

     But it was more than that.  We had things to say.  We had 
four or five years of common history which had been transformed 
by a marriage service.  We had a decade before that which hadn't 
been shared and needed to be shared now.  We had the fifteen 
month period of near-constant separation which was the difference 
between four and five years.  On the trail, you see things which 
you stop seeing if you say, "Look at that doe."  We had the 
universe pressing a million stars down among the treetops.  
Besides, we had broken from a year of clothed writhing under 
threat of a clock.  We were going to make love, and we didn't 
have a deadline.  The lack of deadline was, itself, sensuous. 

     Then too, I think that love and lust are further apart in 
women than in men.  Jeanette certainly needed time to put the 
trail pace behind her and to be a naked woman held by a naked man 
before she was ready to be a naked woman pierced by a naked man.  
That had nothing to do with love or trust.  I was beginning to 
learn that I had dozens of wives, all named Jeanette.  I think 
she had two husbands, day shift and night shift. 

     Then Jeanette pressed her hips back into my lap once too 
often.  She met an erection a little too engorged.  I rolled so 
that my thigh pressed into the line between hers.  I stretched my 
left hand to cup her left breast.  I stroked between her thighs 
with my right hand.  She parted her legs so I could press my 
right thigh between them until it reached her dampness. 

     The back of her neck and the tendon reaching to her shoulder 
get a lot of kisses in this position.  Partly it is because they 
are minor erogenous zones.  Mostly it is because they are the 
only areas that I can reach while breathing. 

     Even then, however, there was time for talking. 

     "Did you know," I asked, "that you have the sexiest butt in 
North America?" 

     "You haven't seen all the butts in North America." 

     "Not for lack of trying." 

     "Anyway, you don't even check out the boys." 

     "Guilty." 

     "You spent the whole walk back from the farmhouse ogling 
mine didn't you?" 

     "I was not ogling.  I was making an impartial aesthetic 
evaluation of the clench of your gluteal muscles as you walk 
uphill." 

     "Absolutely, purely, aesthetic?"  For some reason she 
sounded dubious. 

     "Pure as the driven snow.  Of course, actuality is only part 
of aesthetics.  One has to consider potentiality as well.  For 
instance, to take a random example, there is the question of how 
gluteal muscles which look beautiful while propelling a gorgeous 
stride of lovely legs would look -- or even feel -- while 
thrusting back at a lover thrusting himself between those thighs.  
Purely as an aesthetic example, of course.  There could be many 
other questions." 

     "Which others did you consider?" 

     "Umm, well...." 

     "And I believed this man's promises." 

     Having reached her mound with my hand, I fingered the very 
top of her cleft on alternative sides.  I imagined that I felt 
the clitoral shaft moving side to side as one finger pressed down 
and then the other.  I lowered my thigh to make room for my hand.  
Then I had her whole perfect cunt in my hand.  I just held it for 
a minute while I played with her nipple and kissed the back of 
her neck.  Then I parted her lips with one finger.  She was 
wetter than she had ever been at this stage. 

     "Oh love," I whispered. 

     "Ihm hmm." 

     She tensed when I stroked up her cleft.  I stroked down 
again to her entrance. I slipped the finger into her tunnel, and 
she gasped.  Bringing it out, I stroked upward almost to her 
clitoris then returned.  I moved it around a little in the 
moisture to guarantee a smooth passage.  Then I smoothed some 
lubrication a little way up and returned for more.  All the while 
I was playing with the nipple on her left breast.  By the time I 
had spread the lubricant all the way up her cleft to her 
clitoris, she was panting and thrusting back against my thigh.  I 
could hunch over so that the fingers on my left hand could 
stretch to her right nipple.  I took it and rolled it gently 
between thumb and forefinger.  Each stroke of my right middle 
finger now went the entire length of her cleft, passing lightly 
over her clitoral area.  Each time this happened, she pressed her 
hips back into my thigh.  By this time, I had quite forgotten my 
noble scheme of showing her that I could decide to just pet even 
when she invited intercourse.  Finally, she tried to turn in my 
arms. 

     "No love," I said, "this way." 

     The condom was at the bottom of the tent flap on my side.  I 
extracted my left arm and reached for it.  It took both hands and 
30 seconds to get it on.  I returned and pressed into her cleft 
from behind. 

     "Help me," I said. 

     She reached back and placed me right.  She arched her back, 
and I pushed forward.  Something was wrong, and I caught.  She 
shifted, I pressed, and I slid in.  She arched her back more and 
pushed back.  I slipped in until her butt was resting on my legs.  
I could feel all of her warmth grip all of my length.  I slipped 
the remaining lubrication from the foil onto the second and third 
fingers of my right hand.  I reached around her leg again to 
finger her labia.  I could reach the bottom of my shaft, and from 
there I stroked the taut lips up to their juncture.  I stroked 
this tiny area repeatedly with my two greased fingers.  I slipped 
my left hand under her side to reach her breast again. 

     "I did have one other image on the road," I said.  "I kept 
picturing your perfect hips and thighs with my phallus 
disappearing between them.  I kept picturing your gluteal 
flexings as you pushed your hips back at me." 

     The words, or the digital stroking, had their effect.  She 
did press back, inch forward, and arch herself back again.  Her 
nipple was hard, and the area around it was pebbly and hard.  She 
was breathing quite rapidly, and I was no better.  I abandoned 
any attempt at talk and moved my hips against her motion.  I 
worried about coming out.  Then I worried about coming. 

     The phallic sensations were exquisite.  While I slid within 
her, she tightened on me.  Then I hung at her entrance ring for a 
moment before thrusting into her hips rolling toward me.  That 
drove the shaft through the tightly clutching ring, and the glans 
along a slippery, less clutching tunnel.  Then the clutches came 
over the whole length.  Her hip motion became erratic, and the 
clutches became rhythmic.  I could only grab her hipbone and hold 
on.  She moaned, and her tunnel squeezed me in earnest.  I drove 
into her and shook as my seed poured out.  She was calling out. 

     "Bob?  Bob.  BOB!  Oh.  Oh.  Ahhh....  Oh Bob."  

     Then she relaxed.  Neither of us moved except for our 
breathing.  I was still in her and could feel an occasional 
quiver, whether from her or from me, I couldn't tell.  The sense 
of 'one flesh' where we joined was both erotic and spiritual.  I 
was hoping that we could lie like this all night.  I almost felt 
disappointment when she turned in my arms. 

     Then she hugged me hard and kissed my chin.  She found my 
mouth with the next kiss, which was open-mouthed and wild.  
Neither of us had really regained our breath, and we were 
breathing into each other.  Somewhere my mind considered 
asphyxiation, but it wasn't an urgent worry.  Dying with Jeanette 
kissing me like that was as good as living another fifty years.  
We did survive, however.  I freed my arms enough to get them 
around her.  I rolled slightly so that she was mostly beside me 
and a little on top.  She broke the big kiss to give me lots of 
little ones all over my face.  Then we went back to a deep, 
almost restful, kiss with just a little of her tongue on top of 
mine.  The taste was literally sweet. 

     "So that is what it means?" she said. 

     "That is what it means." 

     I suddenly remembered the plans for the locked, clean motel 
room and smiled.  My plans can gang agley like that as aft as 
they please. 

     "I love you, Bob." 

     "I love you Jeanette.  Since the first day I saw you." 

     The barrier we penetrated, there in the forest, was much 
more important than a hymen. 

      THE END 
      Uther Pendragon 
      nogardneprethu@gmail.com
      1996/06/29 
      1996/10/09 
      1997/04/07  
      1997/08/23


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

The next story in the series is:
"Forecast"ast.txt

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

The directory to the entire series is:
brennan.txt
Brennane Stories Directory  


Another story of a another couple's beginning can be found 
at:
"Wrapped Attention"  


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