Marriage of Inconvenience - M
Chapter 1: Bewildered

Copyright 2011, 2019, Uther Pendragon

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: Bewildered - Bill Pierce married Carolyn despite all the advice. She might be infuriating, but she's even sexier. Now, he is exercising his self-control, difficult as that is sometimes.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa  

Bill Pierce was sopping as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. The rain would clear the last remaining drifts from the winter’s previous snow storm. He’d been in the Chicago area long enough to not call it the “last” snow until May -- at least. Still, it had come down hard and from one direction after another. His umbrella had kept his hat dry, but not his trousers.

Carolyn’s welcome-home kiss, on the other hand, was rather dry. What had he done wrong now? Well, he’d change his clothes before asking. He noticed that the clothes she’d been wearing were draped over most available surfaces in their bedroom. Even her bra had got soaked! Carolyn was allergic to real umbrellas. He came back in a flannel shirt, khakis, and loafers. He set the table while she kept silence.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked when they’d sat down.

“Remember that bastard, Walther? When he assigned us a paper late in the semester? I decided blow him off -- submitted a trifling paper that fit his public criteria. The other papers were more important, and I figured I could take the C.”

“Yeah.” At least it wasn’t anything that he had done. Indeed, she sounded more puzzled than angry.

“I got the paper back today.”

“Is it going to cause you problems, hold back the degree?”

“No. That’s not it.” She got up. When she came back, she handed him the paper. It was a little damp, but graded A+.

“He said it was the best paper that had come out of the class. I got an A in the course, too.”

“Well, that’s wonderful. I’d been worried.” Second-guessing her in her career was idiocy, but she’d been so insistent that she’d show that professor how unimportant he was that he’d really feared the consequences.

“I got an A- on my paper for Kindle. He told me he knew I could analyze more deeply than I had done. Still got an A in the course, though. Money and Banking was a B in the course. I haven’t got the paper back yet.”

“That’s wonderful. Is there something else you’re not telling me -- something for which all this is merely compensation?”

“Nope. That’s my news.”

“But you don’t seem pleased.”

“I’m pleased, but I’m more bewildered. It was a shallow paper on a shallow idea. It was scantily sourced. I can’t understand it.”

“Well, the grades call for a celebration. I wouldn’t recommend going out in this weather, though.”

“Trust Bill. We need to celebrate, but we can’t go out. We really must celebrate in here. I wonder what we could do to celebrate. Maybe hold the celebration in bed?” She was wronging him. If it had been his victory, he’d propose a celebration in bed. It was her victory, and she deserved something she would enjoy.

“I could go out for some ice cream or something.”

“I’m only teasing you. I -- in case you haven’t noticed -- enjoy our celebrations in bed, too. And, whatever your other faults, you make sure that I do.” His other faults! She wasn’t perfect, either. Still... “I have some stuff to do, though.” Well, he hadn’t proposed an in-bed celebration right then -- hadn’t really proposed an in-bed celebration at all. That had been her idea.

“I need to do the dishes, too.” And, when he had done those, he made a point of shaving again. She never complained about the feel of his whiskers in the evening, really only an occasional comment -- rather than a complaint -- in the morning before he’d shaved. Still, she sometimes expressed pleasure at the smoothness of his cheek, and this would be her celebration. He read the Trib and the Wall Street Journal in the living room while she worked at the kitchen table. When she took her bathroom time, he followed immediately.

She was waiting in bed with the lamp on when he got out. He turned off the overhead and got into bed. For her celebration, he kissed her face and then over her torso before getting serious. While they shared a deep kiss and his tongue explored her mouth, his hand stroked her mound and the outside of her snatch. She was already juicy. He rubbed her lips against one another. When her body tensed, he used his finger to draw some of that moisture up her groove to her nub. He was still kissing her mouth when she went over. He pulled his tongue back in caution -- no telling whether she’d bite it unintentionally -- but maintained the kiss until she’d gone over completely and had relaxed.

“For the B,” he said. He rubbed her lips together again as he kissed up her melon. He licked the tip and stroked her nub until she tensed again. Then he sucked the tip and moved his finger in circles over her nub. When she’d gone over again, he waited until she was done to lift his mouth from her melon.

He switched to the far melon and sucked the tip while continuing to stroke her nub. When he body tensed under his arm, he broke contact with her melon and took a moment to appreciate the expression on her face. It changed from concerned to worried. When she looked tense, he moved between her legs.

“Yeah,” she said. He fitted himself to her entrance and brought his hand back to support himself on the bed above her.

“For the A plus,” he said as he slid into her juicy, welcoming, warmth. Buried deep within her, he wriggled as he adjusted himself to rest on his elbows while his hands clasped her melons. As he drove in and out of her snatch, she rose and fell in perfect rhythm with him. She grimaced just before her snatch clutched at his dick.

“Yes,” he said as he poured himself into her rhythmic clasps. He kissed the tips of both melons before rolling himself to the side. She hugged him like that, and he returned the hug. “You are a delight, and not only in class.”

“It’s our own classroom, and you’re the teacher.”

“Then you never get a grade lower than 100%.” He bent forward to kiss her before they went through the contortions to extricate themselves from the bed clothes.

“Move back,” she said. When he did, she waited for him to turn off the lamp and turn back towards her. Then she scooted over so that her buns were in his lap. “My celebration,” she said. “You have to hold me.” He’d never been so happy to do as she asked.

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