Archive-name: JourEntr/j264-233.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: P'nyssa's Child, Late Term

 
Journal Entry 233 / 0264

     "Hi," P'nyssa said as she came in the door.

     "Hello yourself," I replied in our ritual fashion.  "How was your
day at the office?"

     "Tiresome."

     "Any problem?" I asked, rising from my chair to help her to the
couch.  Let's face it; according to the Tindal gestation average, she's
only fifteen days away, and with twins, she waddles.  She needs help
rising and sitting.  She can barely walk on her own, and her back aches
constantly.  Of course, she won't take anything for it.  But that's her;
her body knows what it needs.

     "Nobody will let me do my job!" she said.

     "Well... All the paperwork is done by Jean, and Rhys won't let you
do any psionic investment work, not when you're as pregnant as you are. 
So all that's left is teaching and counseling."

     She smiled, a grim smile in her blue face, her yellow eyes
crinkling ever so slightly.  "I like teaching, really I do.  And I don't
mind helping students.  Especially this one Centaur I have; he's got
such a gift, Ken, you should see him!  But I really want to be doing the
rounds, talking to patients, my patients."

     "Look, in a month you'll be on your way to recovering your girlish
figure.  Admittedly, you'll be getting no sleep at that point since
we'll have two infants in the household, but hey, it's almost a return
to normal."  I smiled.  "Can I get you something to drink?"

     "Chocolate milk?" she asked with a small smile, almost innocent and
girlish.

     "Coming right up," I said, rising from the couch and going into the
kitchen.  The far right wall had been knocked out and a large swinging
door installed leading into the apartment next door, which we had turned
into the kid's room, essentially, although downstairs was where the
nursery per. se. was going.

     I returned with her milk and a glass of iced tea for me.  Her
children had been conceived in high winter, and it was now cold fall
again, but at least the Castle was warm inside.  The day was still
sunny, and even a cold sun was welcome.  I gave her the glass and she
took a deep draught from it, draining about half the glass.  I laughed
at the gusto she had, and when she took the glass away from her lips she
glanced sidelong at me, one eyebrow raised.  It made me smile a little
wider.  I saw that she had the classic line of chocolate milk across her
upper lip and mixed into her fur.  I leaned over to lick it off, and to
kiss her.

     She returned my kiss, warmly but with a sense of desperation.  Her
kiss became insistent, her tongue in my mouth, our eyes closed.  The
kiss lasted a long time, but finally I broke away.  "What was that for?"
I asked.

     "I don't know," she said shyly.  "I just felt like... kissing you
like that."

     I leaned over to kiss her again, and again she returned the kiss, a
little slower this time, a little more self-consciously.  I reached over
and placed my hand on her belly, feeling the swelling there, the massive
evidence of new life waiting.  Two and half weeks, that's all that was
left.

     I kissed her slowly, my hands trailing up her blouse to caress her
soft breasts through the material.  P'nyssa's breasts are normally small
enough that she rarely wears anything, but they has swelled and so she
was wearing a brassiere.  I found it appropriate.  I knew that she had
found an excellent seamstress for the task, and she rarely complained.

     Her mitt strayed over to my crotch and through my pants I could
feel the insistent pressure as she caressed my growing erection.  I
shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

     She giggled.  I broke our kiss and said, "What now?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "Nyss, we haven't had sex in a few weeks, mostly because of your
back and the extra weight in the way.  Do you want to make love?"

     "I thought we were getting to that."

     I reached over and undid the frogs of her blouse, pushing it aside.
She leaned forward off of the couch so that I could take it off
completely.  I removed her brassiere as well, then undid the snaps of
her denim skirt, which parted easily, so I simply laid it back against
the couch.

     She was completely naked except for her white mid-calf boots, which
I left on; I think they match wonderfully with her dark-blue fur.  She
leaned against the couch again, and we began to kiss again, making out
like kids who'd never done this before.

     And in a way, that's how I felt.  There was a major difference in
our kiss this time, because there was something so very different about
her.  Our kiss went on for several minutes while my hands roamed over
her furred breasts and belly, going against the grain and disturbing the
smooth patterns laid flat by the whole day of sitting in her office.  I
pinched her nipples, almost out of a sort of curiosity, but I was not
disappointed when nothing happened;  I didn't really expect anything.

     She noticed the gesture.  "If you were to suck on them for a while,
they'd start filling."

     "How long?" I asked.

     "Oh, say ten minutes every hour."

     "Oh, then it has to be regular?"

     "Mm-hmm," she said.  She had opened my pants and my erection was
now free.  She stroked it slowly.  "Scoot back a little," she said.  I
dutifully scooted.  She leaned over, and then realized that there was
something in the way- her.  "Sit on the arm of the couch."  I slid over
to where she indicated.  "Much better," she said, leaning over and
slowly taking my cock into her mouth.  Her warm and familiar mouth slid
over the head of my cock and she took it deep; There are three places on
my penis that are extremely sensitive- the head, the root, and my
circumcision scar.  She was getting to at least the scar, and I could
feel the head of my cock pressing against the back of her throat.

     I groaned, and she began to stroke back and forth with her mouth.
She occasionally had to brush her hair out of the way, because it kept
falling in front and getting in the way.

     After a few minutes that kept me on tooth-grinding edge, she backed
off.  "Mouth getting tired?" I asked.  That's usually what happens.

     "Yah," she said.  No sense in apologizing for something we both
knew was going to happen.  Believe it or not, in all the years we've
been together, she's only been able to suck me to orgasm once.

     I smiled, and got off the couch, walking around to in front of her
and kneeling between her legs.  She spread her legs and shifted her butt
to the edge of the couch.  This rhythm was almost ritual, except for the
presence of our two unborn children.  It made me laugh.

     The word 'ritual' kept going through my head.  I sat cross-legged
on the floor before her, bending over and softly applying my tongue to
her cunt, parting the soft pubic hair.  I licked from her vaginal
opening to just over the hood of her clitoris, then would start again
from the bottom.  She cooed, and then groaned with slight pain.  "Are
you okay?" I asked quickly.

     "One... of them kicked me."  She gasped.  "But don't stop... That
feels good."  I bent back to the task at hand, licking slowly.  Her
juices came, sweet and musky.  I slowly licked over and around the hood,
enjoying the sounds I heard coming from her.  'Ritual.'

     Cunnilingus is the sort of pleasure that somehow leaves me time to
think of other things at the same time.  Never work or trouble, but
something happening around me.  'Ritual.'  That what it was.  I noticed
my erection sinking, then decided to ignore it; she could easily revive
it when the time came.  As her orgasm slowly came in, I gently wetted my
fingers with her juices and slid it into her cunt, pressing upward
softly against her pubic bone.  She likes that.

     It was weird, when I thought about it.  She was so pregnant her
belly rubbed against my forehead as I ate her, and the softly grasping
hole that tightened around my finger led to her children, to our
children.

     I licked her further, and she coaxed me further.  Then she said,
"Hard, now, please... I'm going to come..." I pressed in with all the
force my tongue could direct, pressing against her groin.  My jaw began
to ache when she let out a low "Ohhhhhh..." and shuddered, her legs
tensing against my shoulders as she came.  I pressed my finger a little
harder inside her cunt, and she groaned, and the flow of juices suddenly
became much more obvious.  I licked her a little softer, noting the
slight tang, until her shudders were over, then rose to sit next to her
on the couch.

     "Sorry," she said.  "I forgot to warn you... my bladder doesn't
hold much nowadays, and when you press against me like that... I should
have told you... I'm sorry."

     "For what?  Pissing on me?" I licked my lips.  "I kinda' liked it. 
Nice to know I have that effect on you," I said, leering mischievously. 
She gave me a sidelong look.  "Feel better?"

     "Yeah," she said.  "But what about you?"

     "What about me?" I asked.  Really, I'm not selfish.

     "Don't you want to come?"

     "Well... I certainly wouldn't mind.  But I don't think were going
to make love right now."

     "Why not?" She asked.  "Come on," she said.  She slowly slid down
off the couch and onto her knees.  She pivoted so that she faced me on
the couch, then placed her head in my lap, again sucking my cock.  My
erection rose again in her warm mouth, and when it was fully hard she
said, "fuck me.  Like this, please."  I slid to my right and she lay her
head against the cushion.  Her ass was raised high in the air, and I
could see her mitt sliding between her legs, her thumb rubbing her clit.

     I agreed with her "Why not?"  Her cunt was peeking out at me, pink
and glistening through her blue fur, and I positioned myself.  "Wait,"
she said.

     "What?" I asked.

     "Get my vibrator," she asked.  I was about to turn and go down to
the bedroom to get it when a soft whine and small glow on the coffee
table heralded it's arrival.  Dave, I thought to myself, that was a
horrible waste of energy just to move something less than twenty meters.
Thank you.  Voyeur.

     I handed it to her.  It's a small sphere that fits in the palm of
her mitten, with a rounded latex tapering at one end for her clit.  It's
designed for just what she uses it for.  She turned it on and reached
down between her legs.  "Now," she ordered.  "Get inside me."

     I got back to where I'd been and eagerly slid my cock into her.
Her cunt easily took me and wrapped around me with her warmth.  I
reached down and took her hips in my hands, slowly stroking myself in
and out of her.  "No," she said.  "Fuck me."

     I accepted the challenge, leaning over her.  She had her chest on
the couch, her belly hanging freely over the edge.  I noticed that the
cushion she lay on was also slightly wet with her own urine.  I put my
hands on the edge of the couch and began to fuck her as she wanted,
hard.  That actually makes it harder for me to come, and she knew it.
She wanted this to last.  I held myself up with my left hand, my elbow
locked as I slammed my cock in and out, in and out.

     She gave a high-pitched scream as her first orgasm washed over her,
her legs trembling.  I kept on, fucking her.  But with my right hand I
reached around and down, stroking her full belly.  It was, I think, more
than a little strange; on the deep thrusts my cock must have been
hitting her cervix, bringing my presence to the attention of the two
inside her.

     She came again, and then again, and then she snapped the vibrator
off.  "Come for me, Ken," she gasped.  "Anyway you want, just come."  I
slowed a little, so I could feel every thrust as her vagina gripped me
with its wonderful friction.  And I could feel that so-familiar feeling,
that point of no return as I reached it, passed it, and came, shooting
my semen deep into her cunt, screaming her name as I did.

     I stayed there, holding myself off of her; her back must hurt her
enough.  I slowly slid out of her, enjoying the delicious over-
sensitivity as I did so.  She groaned and slowly turned over, settling
to a sitting position on the floor, leaning against the couch.

     "Like that?" I asked.

     She gave me her famous You-Must-Be-Mad look, and said "Of course I
liked it.  You know what?  I think orgasm must be good for cramps,
because I feel great."

     "Tired?" I asked.

     "Hungry." she replied.

     "In that case," I said, "let's get cleaned up, and we'll go to
Tarre's for dinner.  She invited us over."

     "Why didn't you say so when I came in?  Oh, okay.  Help me up?"

     I did, and we descended into the bedroom, and the shower.

--
"P'nyssa's Child, Late Term"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1992 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.