author: Uther Pendragon 
title: Outage 
keywords: MF nc reluc exhib 

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, 1999, 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.

                             _ __ _

                             Outage
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com

"Rich, what happened to the water?" 

I blinked myself awake.  Amanda was decorated with something 
white.  It took me a minute to figure out what. 

"Amanda!" I said.  "You're all covered with soap."  I love the 
girl, but she is less accident-prone than disaster-prone.  On the 
other hand, the suds weren't thick enough to disguise her sexy 
shape. 

"I noticed," she said.  "I took a shower while you were 
napping, and the water petered out as soon as I had lathered 
up." 

"I told you that the water pump was electric.  It went out 
with all the other juice."  And she had drained the tank above 
the rafters completely, of course.  We would have a thirsty time 
until the power came back. 

"I can't believe it.  The lightning stopped last night.  It 
has been nearly a day since the power went off.  They still 
haven't fixed it.  Consolidated Edison would be hung out to dry 
for something like this." 

Now she was blaming the electric company.  We couldn't drink 
or fix food because she had drained the tank, the toilet would 
start stinking soon, and she was blaming somebody else.  "They 
have a lot of lines to check," I said, "and it is still raining 
hard." I could hear the drumming on the roof.  "This isn't New 
York, you know." 

"And *how* I know!  We can't get water.  Why?  Because it 
is raining.  And you bitched because you got sweaty on the 
subway. Well your 'better, simpler life' sucks!"  She ran out of 
the room. 

Sleep forgotten, I rolled out of bed and donned the pair of 
too-tight cutoffs I wore around the place.  At least they didn't 
need a belt.  Meanwhile, I was considering options.  We could 
drink pop and beer.  Going to the cottage's large kitchen, I 
checked those supplies -- plenty of beer, six liters of pop.  The 
Murphys were already in their cottage next door.  They might 
spare us a pan or two of water; but I hated to ask, since they 
had four people in their cottage, and our need was caused by 
sheer stupidity.  I looked out the kitchen window in the 
direction of the Murphy house. 

On our lawn, ankle deep in mud, naked as the day she was born, 
Amanda was trying to rinse herself off.  As luck would have it, 
the sun had finally sunk below the clouds, giving more light than 
it had all day. 

Tom Murphy is a horny 16 year old, and the family goes to the 
same church as my mother does.  Technically, I was supposed to be 
at the cottage alone.  I ran out to Amanda, splashing across the 
slippery grass.  The fool ran *towards* the hedge when she 
saw me coming.  The view of bouncing tits and flexing butt 
hardened me, I could imagine what it was doing to Tom Murphy. 

The rinsing hadn't been very successful.  When I grabbed her, 
every inch I touched was lubricated by a sheen of soapy water. 
Amanda is hard to hold at the best of times -- fun though.  This 
twisting, slithery, kicking, screaming, version was impossible, 
would have been impossible even with firm ground underfoot.  I 
managed to stagger to a position where the pine trees shielded us 
from the Murphy house. 

I would never have been able to carry her up the three stairs 
to the kitchen door.  And I didn't want to cross that space while 
she was still yelling. 

My mind could hold only fury at Amanda and fear that she had 
been seen capering about in the nude.  But my body was reacting 
to the super-smooth skin of the girl squirming in my arms.  The 
resulting erection wasn't making it any easier to negotiate the 
slippery grass, although it probably helped to keep my pants up. 
They were slipping lower without the occasional hitch that I 
usually gave them.  Walking was bad enough as it was, and we 
didn't need two nudists on the lawn. 

"Put me down!" she screamed, and kicked my knee.  The blow 
wasn't that hard, but with the wriggling, overbalanced load I was 
carrying, it was enough.  We plopped together into a puddle.  It 
was maybe four or five inches deep, a little hard to tell since 
the bottom was by no means firm.  There was no grass right there, 
nothing to keep the water and the earth apart. 

"You asked," I said.  Hoping nobody had noticed her in the 
fading light. 

"You bastard!" she said.  "What did you think you were doing? 
Now I'm dirtier than when I started the shower." 

"What did *I* think I was doing?  What did you think 
*you* were doing?  Auditioning for a rape?  This is a 
vacation spot for families, not Fire Island.  Your feet are still 
cleaner than your mind."  I pushed her off my lap. 

I expected the retaliatory slap, and blocked it.  Amanda 
always leads with her right.  What I didn't expect was the mud in 
her hand; it flew right into my face.  While my eyes were still 
protectively closed, she pushed me onto my back. 

I got her arms, though, and pressed her down into the puddle 
by my side.  "My hair," she screamed.  Alarmed -- I love those 
smooth locks -- I let her go. 

She, however, was more interested in revenging her hair than 
in rescuing it.  A moment later, I was wearing a cap of mud.   
With my eyes still closed, I groped for her.  I caught an ankle 
and pulled her towards me, sliding a little toward her in the 
process.  My advantages were upper-body strength and weight; 
sight is relatively unimportant in wrestling. 

Her advantages were slipperiness and malice.  She kicked me on 
the inside of my thigh as I pulled her closer.  I don't like to 
think of the damage it would have caused had her aim been 
better. 

I used both hands to twist her foot.  This put her far over on 
her side.  You can't kick very well with the leg you're resting 
on.  A minute later, I was across her legs and moving higher. She 
gave up kicking to claw with her nails, but the mud seemed to 
blunt that attack. 

When my weight was across her groin, I could free my hands to 
catch her wrists.  But when I used one hand to wipe my forehead 
free of the mud, she grabbed the waistband of my cutoffs and 
tugged.  The button popped, the ancient fabric ripped, and my 
cock was suddenly in the air. 

Now, I have always encouraged Amanda to touch my cock with her 
fingers and palm; but I'll pass on clawing finger nails.  I 
rolled off her and away.  She scrambled to her feet, but I 
tackled her.  By this time, my pants were about my knees.  I 
needed my torso to hold Amanda down and both hands to defend 
myself, but I managed to push and kick the constricting fabric 
off.  Now there were two nudists in our yard, and now I was more 
vulnerable. 

On the other hand, the rain had finally washed the mud off my 
face.  Dim as the light was, I could now see.  Both of Amanda's 
arms and one side of her face were plastered with mud.   The rest 
of her face and her torso was splattered with it.  I grinned. 

"Don't dream of it," she said.  "You're not only not getting 
any out here.  You're not getting any ever again.  Not from me." 
Actually, above the waist at least, I hadn't been thinking about 
sex.  I had been thinking about how I had conquered her, and held 
her at my mercy. 

On the other hand, how different is the idea of having a woman 
at your mercy from the idea of taking her?  And, for all her 
protest, Amanda's nipples were pointing at the black clouds. 

"Yeah," I said, leering at them.  "I can see that you are 
really not in the mood." 

"They're just chilly," she said.  "Now let me *go*." 

"So you can claw me again?  But I will have mercy and warm 
them up for you."  Which I could only do with my cheek and my 
breath, my hands being occupied.  Somehow, that didn't result in 
any shrinking. 

As the last light disappeared, her writhing became ever more 
rhythmic.  I didn't really believe that she was trying to escape 
any more.  I risked freeing one of her wrists to feel a softer 
part.   She used her hand to move my head until my mouth was 
against her nipple. 

What the hell!  It wasn't that muddy.  The texture wasn't as 
delightful as it usually was, but her response was as active. 
When I let go of the other wrist, I used my hand to massage the 
front of her mound.  Done right, this could drive her wild.  I 
must have done it right, because she writhed more forcefully than 
ever. 

Suddenly, her torso stopped moving.  She grabbed my hair with 
both hands to tug me up her body.  We enjoyed one kiss while I 
fitted myself into the right place.  Entry was a little slow. 
Once in, however, I found a smooth, warm welcome.  We took a 
while to coordinate our movements.  With all the churning we had 
given it, the mud puddle had turned slippery as grease. 

Soon we found ways to move against each other.  Her nipples 
were stiff against my chest as I moved above her; her walls were 
soft around me as I moved within her.  Her legs rose slightly as 
the force of our motions grew.  I felt the familiar tensing of my 
loins, but knew from her gradual tightening around me that she 
not only was matching me, she was ahead of me.  I was sure that 
nothing could stop us now. 

But the voice from behind us stopped me:  "Rich!  Richard, 
it's Karen from next door.  Mom sent me with two jugs for water.   
Do you think that you could let us have that much."  After a 
short pause, she pounded on the door.  "Rich.  Can we have 
any?" 

Fourteen-year-old Karen Murphy was at the back door.  Dark as 
it was, it was a miracle that she hadn't seen us as she walked 
around the house.  While she was pounding on the door, however, 
her back was to us.  Amanda had never stopped moving against me 
and around me.  I could no longer resist those luscious 
sensations.  I pounded into her, meeting thrust with thrust. 
Maybe Karen wouldn't see us.  Maybe we could finish and hide 
behind the trees before she gave up.  Anyway, it was too late to 
stop. 

Amanda was beginning to make the very low gasps that told me 
how close she was, and that excited me even more.  Her legs rose 
behind me and pointed to the sky.  I drove deeper into that freer 
access.  I was climbing the mountain; the external world withdrew 
so I could sense nothing but the warmth sliding around my cock at 
every stroke. 

Even when we were suddenly surrounded by light, I only dimly 
realized that it came from the kitchen window.  By that time, I 
was nearing my peak. 

I could *not* stop. 


The end.
Outage
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
1999/05/26
2001/05/28
2002/06/04
2004/06/04


For a story of a quite different couple, see:
picnic_2.txt 
"Picnic 02"  


This story is coded (MF nc reluc exhib).

The code, reluc, means: Woman says no, but loves it when she is 
raped.

For more on the story codes and how to use them to find the 
sorts of stories to interest you:
http://www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/code/scfr.htm
"Story codes for readers" 



The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm