Part 42: link
SUNDAY
Flip. Arthur hears a strange noise. He’s still trying to sleep, but he heard it several menit yang lalu as well. If I hear it again, I’ll open my eyes and look. Maybe.
Flip. He sighs and opens his eyes. He is looking at Gwen’s elbow. She is propped up in the bed, half sitting, membaca a book. Ah. Turning pages, he thinks, closing his eyes again.
A menit later, they open. Have to pee. Sighing again, he reaches over, gives Gwen’s arm a little squeeze, then swings his feet to the floor and staggers to the bathroom.
Bladder empty, he’s now thirsty, so he goes to the sink. Picking up the cup, he finds that it is damp. She must have taken some lebih Tylenol.
He fills the cup. Then he notices her toothbrush. Is that damp as well? He reaches down and prods the bristles gently with his fingertip. They are wet, as if the toothbrush has been used recently.
She brushed her teeth. Good morning, indeed, Arthur.
He grabs his toothbrush and hastily brushes his own teeth before he finally gets his drink of water.
Sauntering nonchalantly back to the bed, he climbs back in and scoots close to Gwen. He noses his head under her elbow like a anak anjing, anjing looking for a scratch behind the ears, and she raises her arms, allowing him to rest his head on her stomach, using her as his pillow.
She brings her arms back down and rests her book on puncak, atas of his head, trying not to smile as she does so.
“Hey!” Arthur protests.
“Hey, yourself,” she replies.
Beneath the blankets, Arthur slides his hand across her stomach, reaching around so he is holding her hip. He hugs her and wiggles closer, burrowing against her slightly, his head brushing against the bottoms of her breasts.
He can feel her stomach muscles jerk as she starts laughing, and he shifts position so his head is higher, between hers and her book. He reaches up, pulls the bookmark out from where she has parked it inside the back cover, and places it in her page. He takes the book from her and closes it. Love in the Time of Cholera.
“Sounds depressing,” he says.
“It’s a beautiful book, shut up,” she tells him as he sets it on the side table.
Arthur rests his head back down on her stomach and replaces his hand where it was under the covers, on her hip. “How’s your head?” he asks, fairly certain of her answer.
“Much better, thank you,” she says, running her fingers through his already tousled hair, her fingertips feeling magical on his scalp. He sneaks his hand under the edge of her t-shirt, against the skin of her hip.
He thinks he’s being subtle, she thinks, suppressing the urge to laugh. “Did anda sleep well?” she asks. I’ll play your little game.
“Yes. Well, until this morning, when I kept hearing this irritating papery noise every five menit atau so.” His hand creeps further up, finding the waistband of her knickers, slipping one finger beneath it briefly before sliding his hand up further.
“Next time I’ll try to read quieter than silently,” she says, pulling a lock of his hair.
He rolls back slightly, looking up at her. She looks down at him, smirking. He slides his hand higher, grazing his knuckles on her breast.
“You brushed your teeth.”
“I did.”
His hand roves higher, and he runs his thumb across her nipple, which tightens immediately at his touch.
“So did I,” he tells her, lifting himself up on his elbow, his eyes locked on hers.
“I heard.”
He leans forward, ciuman her, immediately passionate, hungry, repeating all his tender words last night with his actions. His hand on her breast squeezes gently, then caresses again, and she slides back down, lying beneath him, her kemeja getting bunched up around her waist in the process.
Arthur sucks at her lips as if he is trying to get the last drop of sweetness from them before moving down to her neck, running his tongue lightly across her warm skin, causing her to lean her head back with a sigh.
He brings his hand down and the bunched disposition of her kemeja catches his attention, so he takes advantage. He presses his hand against her, gently, but firm enough to draw a quiet moan from her.
Sitting back, he reaches over and coaxes her panties down and off, shoving the blankets down and ciuman her just below her bellybutton as he does so. He scoots lower, dropping his head between her legs, ciuman the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, working his way up, where he slips his tongue into her moist warmth. She cries out and grabs at the blankets with her hands.
Arthur kisses and licks at her, his tongue darting and sweeping, causing a torrent of pleasurable sensations to course through Gwen’s body. She writhes beneath him, able to think of nothing but him. His hands on her skin. His tongue in her most intimate place. His hair tickling the skin of her inner thighs. His shoulders beneath her knees.
He moves one hand down and slides a finger into her, moving in and out, while his tongue attends to the swollen nub of nerves between her legs, teasing it, creating the wave of almost unbearable pleasure that is beginning to course through her body.
Guinevere’s back arches and she presses her head back into the pillows and gasps, “Oh, Arthur… oh my God…” just before her climax hits her with a shout and her whole body jerks.
Arthur withdraws his head from her, chuckling warmly, quite pleased with himself. He crawls up across her body, grinning smugly, and he kisses her eyelids, her nose, her lips.
“I was supposed to be making last night up to you, anda know,” she says after a time. Arthur is lying atop her, his head on her chest.
“Well, it’s not like I planned that,” he says, squirming slightly, pressing his aroused manhood against her thigh. He turns his head and kisses the small beauty mark between her breasts.
“You knew exactly what anda were going to do the menit anda saw my toothbrush,” she accuses him, sliding her hand down his torso.
He kisses her breast a few times, working his way to her nipple. “Well, I had a general idea, but then I was laying here on your stomach,” he kisses it, “and, well, it was right there…”
Gwen laughs, but her laughter is cut off oleh his tongue swirling around her nipple as his lips close over it. He prods her again with his manhood and her hand continues its course to his underwear, sliding it inside, finding him.
Arthur groans and quickly pulls the boxers down and off, kicking them off his foot beneath the covers. I’ll get those later.
He moves to her other breast while Gwen’s hand holds and strokes him, her small soft hand driving him to distraction and there are moments where he forgets what he’s supposed to be doing.
With a growl, Arthur rolls onto his back, bringing her with him, pulling her over him. He finds her lips, ciuman them, greedy for them, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to find hers just as eager.
Gwen reaches down and takes him in her hand again, this time to guide him into her, sliding herself around him slowly. She closes her eyes, concentrating on the sensation of him inside her, loving the familiarity of him mixed with an excitement that doesn’t seem to diminish.
Arthur shifts up on his elbows, easing up into a seated position. Gwen adjusts, repositioning her legs so she is sitting in his lap, her legs around him.
He holds her to him, skimming his hands down her back to hold her rear, lifting her slightly, helping her pindah on him, rocking their hips together and apart.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers. She complies, and looks down at him, into his blue eyes. They are dark with desire as the burn into hers, locking with hers, as they pindah together.
Guinevere’s hands are resting on Arthur’s shoulders, gripping. He feels one loosen and slide up to tangle into the disarray of his hair, pulling his face closer to hers.
He lifts his chin to ciuman her briefly, still maintaining eye contact, willing her to keep her eyes open and meet his gaze. She does, her dark brown eyes appearing almost completely black.
“I lo— I cinta you, Guinevere,” he tells her, his voice a low, soft grunt, his desire making him stutter. He is getting close to his completion and he speeds up their motion.
“I… cinta you, Arthur,” she gasps in reply, the declaration from her throaty voice sending him over the edge and he thrusts himself into her, hard and deep. It feels as though his whole being is surging into her as he comes with a long, primal groan.
She drops her forehead to his, breathing heavy and erratic, and he rocks them a few lebih times, pushing himself to bring her to her detik climax of the morning.
He is not disappointed when a moment later, she gasps sharply a few times with an, “Oh!” and digs her nails into his shoulder.
They sit together, waiting for their heartbeat and breathing to settle back down, ciuman sweetly on and off, Arthur nuzzling her neck. He reaches up and removes the elastic holding the end of her braid, his fingers working her hair free so that he can bury his face into her curls as he holds her to him.
Gwen finally leaves his lap, separating him from her, and she looks sideways at him, a slight scowl on her face.
“I know, I did it again, didn’t I?” he grins sheepishly at her.
“Yes.” She tries to hold her stern expression, but the corners of her mouth are twitching.
He leans over and kisses her. “I promise I will be completely compliant to your will tonight.” He makes his face as solemn as he can manage at the moment.
“Good. Because if anda don’t, I may just… oh, conveniently forget my promise.”
He gasps in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!” he cries, clutching his chest dramatically. She shoves him on the shoulder and he falls to one side, laughing.
“What are we doing today?” Gwen asks, fresh from the mandi, shower in her dressing gown. She is staring at the wardrobe.
“Well, we could just stay here and…” he trails off.
“Didn’t anda say something about a perahu ride?” she asks, ignoring his suggestive remark.
“…or we could go for a perahu ride,” he switches kuda mid-stream, and Gwen laughs.
Then, she surprises him. “Can we fish?”
“You want to fish?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. This surprises you?”
“Well, yes, it does.”
“I like to fish,” she says simply. “Maybe we can catch some dinner,” she suggests.
He stares, smiling. “You are indeed full of surprises, my love.”
She smiles and turns back to the wardrobe now that she knows how to dress for the day.
Part 44: link
SUNDAY
Flip. Arthur hears a strange noise. He’s still trying to sleep, but he heard it several menit yang lalu as well. If I hear it again, I’ll open my eyes and look. Maybe.
Flip. He sighs and opens his eyes. He is looking at Gwen’s elbow. She is propped up in the bed, half sitting, membaca a book. Ah. Turning pages, he thinks, closing his eyes again.
A menit later, they open. Have to pee. Sighing again, he reaches over, gives Gwen’s arm a little squeeze, then swings his feet to the floor and staggers to the bathroom.
Bladder empty, he’s now thirsty, so he goes to the sink. Picking up the cup, he finds that it is damp. She must have taken some lebih Tylenol.
He fills the cup. Then he notices her toothbrush. Is that damp as well? He reaches down and prods the bristles gently with his fingertip. They are wet, as if the toothbrush has been used recently.
She brushed her teeth. Good morning, indeed, Arthur.
He grabs his toothbrush and hastily brushes his own teeth before he finally gets his drink of water.
Sauntering nonchalantly back to the bed, he climbs back in and scoots close to Gwen. He noses his head under her elbow like a anak anjing, anjing looking for a scratch behind the ears, and she raises her arms, allowing him to rest his head on her stomach, using her as his pillow.
She brings her arms back down and rests her book on puncak, atas of his head, trying not to smile as she does so.
“Hey!” Arthur protests.
“Hey, yourself,” she replies.
Beneath the blankets, Arthur slides his hand across her stomach, reaching around so he is holding her hip. He hugs her and wiggles closer, burrowing against her slightly, his head brushing against the bottoms of her breasts.
He can feel her stomach muscles jerk as she starts laughing, and he shifts position so his head is higher, between hers and her book. He reaches up, pulls the bookmark out from where she has parked it inside the back cover, and places it in her page. He takes the book from her and closes it. Love in the Time of Cholera.
“Sounds depressing,” he says.
“It’s a beautiful book, shut up,” she tells him as he sets it on the side table.
Arthur rests his head back down on her stomach and replaces his hand where it was under the covers, on her hip. “How’s your head?” he asks, fairly certain of her answer.
“Much better, thank you,” she says, running her fingers through his already tousled hair, her fingertips feeling magical on his scalp. He sneaks his hand under the edge of her t-shirt, against the skin of her hip.
He thinks he’s being subtle, she thinks, suppressing the urge to laugh. “Did anda sleep well?” she asks. I’ll play your little game.
“Yes. Well, until this morning, when I kept hearing this irritating papery noise every five menit atau so.” His hand creeps further up, finding the waistband of her knickers, slipping one finger beneath it briefly before sliding his hand up further.
“Next time I’ll try to read quieter than silently,” she says, pulling a lock of his hair.
He rolls back slightly, looking up at her. She looks down at him, smirking. He slides his hand higher, grazing his knuckles on her breast.
“You brushed your teeth.”
“I did.”
His hand roves higher, and he runs his thumb across her nipple, which tightens immediately at his touch.
“So did I,” he tells her, lifting himself up on his elbow, his eyes locked on hers.
“I heard.”
He leans forward, ciuman her, immediately passionate, hungry, repeating all his tender words last night with his actions. His hand on her breast squeezes gently, then caresses again, and she slides back down, lying beneath him, her kemeja getting bunched up around her waist in the process.
Arthur sucks at her lips as if he is trying to get the last drop of sweetness from them before moving down to her neck, running his tongue lightly across her warm skin, causing her to lean her head back with a sigh.
He brings his hand down and the bunched disposition of her kemeja catches his attention, so he takes advantage. He presses his hand against her, gently, but firm enough to draw a quiet moan from her.
Sitting back, he reaches over and coaxes her panties down and off, shoving the blankets down and ciuman her just below her bellybutton as he does so. He scoots lower, dropping his head between her legs, ciuman the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, working his way up, where he slips his tongue into her moist warmth. She cries out and grabs at the blankets with her hands.
Arthur kisses and licks at her, his tongue darting and sweeping, causing a torrent of pleasurable sensations to course through Gwen’s body. She writhes beneath him, able to think of nothing but him. His hands on her skin. His tongue in her most intimate place. His hair tickling the skin of her inner thighs. His shoulders beneath her knees.
He moves one hand down and slides a finger into her, moving in and out, while his tongue attends to the swollen nub of nerves between her legs, teasing it, creating the wave of almost unbearable pleasure that is beginning to course through her body.
Guinevere’s back arches and she presses her head back into the pillows and gasps, “Oh, Arthur… oh my God…” just before her climax hits her with a shout and her whole body jerks.
Arthur withdraws his head from her, chuckling warmly, quite pleased with himself. He crawls up across her body, grinning smugly, and he kisses her eyelids, her nose, her lips.
“I was supposed to be making last night up to you, anda know,” she says after a time. Arthur is lying atop her, his head on her chest.
“Well, it’s not like I planned that,” he says, squirming slightly, pressing his aroused manhood against her thigh. He turns his head and kisses the small beauty mark between her breasts.
“You knew exactly what anda were going to do the menit anda saw my toothbrush,” she accuses him, sliding her hand down his torso.
He kisses her breast a few times, working his way to her nipple. “Well, I had a general idea, but then I was laying here on your stomach,” he kisses it, “and, well, it was right there…”
Gwen laughs, but her laughter is cut off oleh his tongue swirling around her nipple as his lips close over it. He prods her again with his manhood and her hand continues its course to his underwear, sliding it inside, finding him.
Arthur groans and quickly pulls the boxers down and off, kicking them off his foot beneath the covers. I’ll get those later.
He moves to her other breast while Gwen’s hand holds and strokes him, her small soft hand driving him to distraction and there are moments where he forgets what he’s supposed to be doing.
With a growl, Arthur rolls onto his back, bringing her with him, pulling her over him. He finds her lips, ciuman them, greedy for them, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to find hers just as eager.
Gwen reaches down and takes him in her hand again, this time to guide him into her, sliding herself around him slowly. She closes her eyes, concentrating on the sensation of him inside her, loving the familiarity of him mixed with an excitement that doesn’t seem to diminish.
Arthur shifts up on his elbows, easing up into a seated position. Gwen adjusts, repositioning her legs so she is sitting in his lap, her legs around him.
He holds her to him, skimming his hands down her back to hold her rear, lifting her slightly, helping her pindah on him, rocking their hips together and apart.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers. She complies, and looks down at him, into his blue eyes. They are dark with desire as the burn into hers, locking with hers, as they pindah together.
Guinevere’s hands are resting on Arthur’s shoulders, gripping. He feels one loosen and slide up to tangle into the disarray of his hair, pulling his face closer to hers.
He lifts his chin to ciuman her briefly, still maintaining eye contact, willing her to keep her eyes open and meet his gaze. She does, her dark brown eyes appearing almost completely black.
“I lo— I cinta you, Guinevere,” he tells her, his voice a low, soft grunt, his desire making him stutter. He is getting close to his completion and he speeds up their motion.
“I… cinta you, Arthur,” she gasps in reply, the declaration from her throaty voice sending him over the edge and he thrusts himself into her, hard and deep. It feels as though his whole being is surging into her as he comes with a long, primal groan.
She drops her forehead to his, breathing heavy and erratic, and he rocks them a few lebih times, pushing himself to bring her to her detik climax of the morning.
He is not disappointed when a moment later, she gasps sharply a few times with an, “Oh!” and digs her nails into his shoulder.
They sit together, waiting for their heartbeat and breathing to settle back down, ciuman sweetly on and off, Arthur nuzzling her neck. He reaches up and removes the elastic holding the end of her braid, his fingers working her hair free so that he can bury his face into her curls as he holds her to him.
Gwen finally leaves his lap, separating him from her, and she looks sideways at him, a slight scowl on her face.
“I know, I did it again, didn’t I?” he grins sheepishly at her.
“Yes.” She tries to hold her stern expression, but the corners of her mouth are twitching.
He leans over and kisses her. “I promise I will be completely compliant to your will tonight.” He makes his face as solemn as he can manage at the moment.
“Good. Because if anda don’t, I may just… oh, conveniently forget my promise.”
He gasps in mock horror. “You wouldn’t!” he cries, clutching his chest dramatically. She shoves him on the shoulder and he falls to one side, laughing.
“What are we doing today?” Gwen asks, fresh from the mandi, shower in her dressing gown. She is staring at the wardrobe.
“Well, we could just stay here and…” he trails off.
“Didn’t anda say something about a perahu ride?” she asks, ignoring his suggestive remark.
“…or we could go for a perahu ride,” he switches kuda mid-stream, and Gwen laughs.
Then, she surprises him. “Can we fish?”
“You want to fish?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. This surprises you?”
“Well, yes, it does.”
“I like to fish,” she says simply. “Maybe we can catch some dinner,” she suggests.
He stares, smiling. “You are indeed full of surprises, my love.”
She smiles and turns back to the wardrobe now that she knows how to dress for the day.
Part 44: link
