Calling the Stork

His mouth dropped open, a cross between surprise and abject humor at my deed. When I had them down low enough, he kicked them off to the side, slid his arms around me, and then pulled me down on the bed, tipping over with me as I fell.

Like him, my little shriek was a mix of surprise and enjoyment as I landed atop him, his big rod between us, and then we rolled to the side, laughing together. As nervous as I was about doing everything right, to please him, I suddenly realized that, though now married, we were still us and that we were having fun together like usual, only with the benefit of our wedding license, there was less inhibition and markedly less clothing in the way.

My nervousness faded at that, and I leaned in to kiss him, hungrily. He accepted my challenge and kissed me back with as much abandon. Soon we were entangled together as he rolled me back, almost towering over me, and his hands ran over me, now with authority and ease rather than tentatively as they had at first. Sliding down my tummy, he paused over my Mons, running his fingers through my pubic hair and enjoying it pass between them, before dipping below along my hood, a finger on each side, and my clitoris.

I learned under the covers in my cot in Hertfordshire how to relax myself when needed, though I always felt guilty, sinful even, afterward, so between that and the potential for embarrassment, it was always a hurried, hushed affair. Leo's fingers and the way he played me were different; there was no guilt, no rush, no frantic urge to finish before discovery. Instead, his efforts were like a maestro's compared to my clumsy fiddling and he soon had me feeling a massive buildup inside and then seeing the Milky Way rather than my usual few stars when that wonderful feeling swept over me. I clamped my legs around his hand when it happened, the orgasm that Miss Nabelli, my classroom instructor, had claimed might possibly be true but which was still believed to be a figment of women's imagination by many male biologists.

If I ever see Miss Nabelli again, I will instruct her properly on the matter!

"Are you okay, my love?" he asked.

With my head still floating and my breath quite short, I could only respond with a grin and a little nod at first, but, on catching my breath enough, I added, "Never better," as I took him in hand.

He was big and hard but the surface was surprisingly supple as I moved my grip up and down him. Leo was smiling at me, looking into my eyes, as I tried to pleasure him as he'd done me.

"How much harder does it need to be before you're ready?" I asked.

"Oh, I think this is quite sufficient," he chuckled. "The real question is, sweetheart, are you ready?"

The moment of truth was here, what I'd wanted for months but feared for years. Collette had warned of the possibility of pain and Vivian had promised it, but Mom had told me that it was overrated, that she'd felt it but been so caught up in the moment that it hadn't really bothered her. Leo, I knew, would be gentle, so I nodded. "I'm ready, my love, I'm yours. Please, make me so."

He didn't though, not right away, anyway, kissing me, touching me, and making me feel so special as he eased me onto my back. There was no rush, as if time meant nothing, but then he was opening my thighs, exposing my sex to his view like I'd never imagined. He kissed my thighs as he opened them, positioning them just so, and then kissed down.

Words fail me at what he did then; I'm still in shock and awe and dying for so much more, but he did it so well. When he again made sure I was ready, really and truly ready this time, he moved up, between my legs, and positioned his hardness at the softness that is mine.

With great care and deliberate slowness, he opened me, just a bit at first, moving in to stretch me a bit and then with equal care and precision, back out the same amount. Over and over he did it, slow and steady.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?' he whispered. "Did it hurt?"

"What?" I was confused. There had been a bit of mild discomfort, but Leo was so slow and careful that I was wondering when he would make the final thrust that would take, like my modesty before, the last vestige of my virginity.

"I'm all the way in you," he replied, only then making me realize that his fullness I was feeling was complete and that his pubis was pressed firmly against mine.

"You are!" I said, finally moving my pelvis to feel him, deep within me and then not so much as I pulled away. We both moved forward at the same time then, smashing our sexes together and causing us both to laugh.

"Miss Nabelli, my nursing instructor, would say that I'm now fully woman," I whispered, proud that Leo was the man who'd helped make me that way, "even though I don't feel any different...well, other than having you inside me."

"I don't know the woman, but I suspect that your Miss Nabelli is a spinster shrew who's never had a man in her life and wouldn't know what to do if one landed in her lap...or wherever. You, my dear Mary, have been 'fully woman' ever since I've known you, as beautiful, as sweet, and as accomplished then as you are now, though I must admit that I have grown to love you more with each passing day. I would gladly tell your Miss Nabelli that my cock has nothing to do with your womanhood, but that it worships you with great fervor...and awaits your bidding to fuck you with much love and great gusto."

Leo did the last part with a not-altogether poor English accent as if doing Shakespeare or one of the other plays we'd seen during our courtship in Philadelphia, leading me to giggle at his silliness and revel in his love even as he moved a bit inside me, accidentally giving me a tiny foretaste of what was to come.

My accent wasn't quite as good as his, but I played along. "My husband, your wife is finding your little sample quite enjoyable and bids you to have your way with her, with as much love and gusto as you have at your disposal."

He laughed, shaking us both as we held each other. Then, with him atop me on his elbows, our lips met as his movements down there became more pronounced and I worked to match him, to compliment his motions with my own and to make sure he knew that I had muscles of my own. In our discussions leading up to our wedding, my mom had suggested this, telling me a little more about my dad's likes than I would have preferred, but which I now appreciated greatly as Leo smiled at me and resumed our kissing.

Sometimes our lips met, but sometimes it was part way, and sometimes we kissed a cheek, a chin, a jaw, a nose--wherever, it didn't matter since each of us loved the other so much, so entirely. I chuckle now because I recall that once he paused, his member pressed as far in me and as tightly as it would go, before looking into my eyes and kissing all around my mouth, only touching part of one lip at a time until he covered them both. He took a moment to kiss the very tip of my nose as lightly as a butterfly before withdrawing a bit and then pounding against me as long and as hard as a blacksmith forging a shoe on his anvil. My moans became incessant, though I tried to quiet them, and I felt as if I was going to faint from the most pleasurable feeling that was washing over me.

He paused after a bit, still in me making me wonder for a moment if he'd finished, too, but looking into my eyes with much love, he caught his breath for a few seconds as his hands gently massaged my tits and my breathing slowed to almost normal. He continued moving around just a bit for that time, making me feel that he was still in me and still hard, before taking a tiny suckle of one of my nipples and then a stronger, deeper draw on the other before beginning to grind into me again, starting our loving all over again.

I ground back against him, trying my best to give as much as I received, but I regret to admit that I wasn't exactly skilled at the task and was soon fighting my urge to shout him onward as he plowed me, going faster and ever harder as time passed, making his previous blacksmithing effort pale in comparison. I lost my motion completely then, just wrapping my arms around him, feeling his sides and then, sliding down, holding his buttocks as he drove against me, feeling his muscles flex, as he used my breasts as little cushions between us.

There was so much going on all at the same time, so many sensations and so much desire, I'm not sure if I remember it all, but it wasn't long before I slid my arms around him and just held on for dear life as he fucked me, loving me with his whole being.

With his efforts and me trying to hold on, I felt it begin again, my soft breathing becoming labored once more as our bodies clung to each other, and then I progressed back to full-fledged moans. From merely pleasant at first, it intensified again over time, a rising pleasure that slowly encompassed me, bit by bit, before a sudden urge, pushing me on toward and then over the brink. As it swept over me, I called out, "Leo, I love you!" Knowing it should be safe for a few more days, I threw my legs and feet around him and held tight to keep him there, deep within me.

Leo thrust a few more times before grunting and calling out to me as I had to him, his cock fully buried in me. His head dropped against mine and I felt the sweat on his forehead before discerning that the sweat wasn't just his, that I was sweating, too, and then we were cheek to cheek. I felt him pulsing as his seed flooded into me. Perhaps I'm imagining, but I felt it enter me, with the head of his cock even swelling as he groaned, releasing the first load into me.

I realized only then that my own body was also quivering, the passion and pleasure that it had just experienced for the first time having overcome me. Leo held me until we were both still, and then we lay there wrapped together, lovers in body at last as well as we'd long been in heart and soul.

***

Sunday, November 30, 1919

Last night after we were done with our first time, we nestled together, holding each other in love and comfort, before realizing what a mess we'd made of ourselves and our bed. Moving to the oversized tub, we gently bathed each other with loving touches and frequent kisses. As much as I've written here--surprising myself to no end at my abject forthrightness, where I have written much more and a thousand times more in depth than I intended or could have ever imagined--I can't bear to write what he did to me once more on the side of that tub, though I want it again, equally a thousandfold or more. Then, to my surprise, we returned to bed and replayed our first act again, slow and gentle this time, where Leo let me help control our motions through most of our union.

When sleep finally came, it was among the best in my life, with Leo's naked body holding mine, where I could feel his strength and the love and comfort he provides, and he the love and adoration I hold for him.

Our train nears Buffalo so I'll bring this tome to a close since I've reached the last page in the book and since Leo is stirring and will wake soon. I'm glad he is resting now so he'll be refreshed and ready for what joys tonight will bring.

I never envisioned the path my life would take nor the bittersweet fortune that's been mine, finding Leo in the midst of war after suffering a heartbreaking loss, and then doing my best to help him return to health from his wounds. Now, with peace here and Leo recovered, I look forward to us living long and happy lives together.

If the events of last night are any indication, perhaps the proverbial stork will hear our ardor, our fervent calls, someday and bring us little ones to grow our family as our parents did with us. For now though, I pray for health and happiness for Leo and me, knowledge and ability to pleasure him always for me, equally great stamina for him, and great gobs of wax to plug that silly bird's ears...at least for a while.

Fin

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Endnotes:

Thanks so much for reading, for any favorites or follows, and for any comments you might offer.

For those interested, Clara's story, with Mary playing a supporting role, is told in "My Sister's Love." The tale of Mary's great, great grandson (and how Mary's story played a part) is told in "Key to Her Heart?" All three of these stories stand alone, but have a little overlap that some readers may enjoy, so you're welcomed and even encouraged to read them.

There was a great deal of historical research that went into this story, so I'll provide a few notes about some items that weren't fully detailed in the story. Please stop here if you aren't interested!

The U.S.S. Sherman was a real troop transport ship used to take people and supplies to Europe during the war. I couldn't determine its final disposition.

After a very cold spring in England, July and early August 1917 was very hot in London and the surrounding area.

Mati Hari (the stage name of Margaretha Geertruida MacLeod and referred to as Harry in the story) was convicted of being a spy by the French in July 1917 and was executed by firing squad on October 15, 1917. The long-lingering question regarding whether she was actually guilty of aiding the Germans will probably never be resolved.

The so-called Spanish Influenza (which didn't originate in Spain) was a worldwide pandemic that lasted from February 1918 to April 1920 that infected about 500 million people (almost 1/3rd of the population at the time) and killed somewhere between 17 and 100 million people worldwide, though most estimates are 25 to 50 million.

The fighting in World War I (generally known as The War or The Great War at the time) ended on November 11, 1918, with the armistice, but the war wasn't officially concluded until the signing of the Treaty of Versailles on June 28, 1919.

Philadelphia's Bellevue-Stratton Hotel was constructed in 1904 and was said to be the finest in the city. It declined over the years and became infamous for the Legionnaires Disease outbreak in 1976, in which 29 people died and over 180 were sickened. The hotel closed for a time as a result and was sold but has since been renovated and converted to a mixed use development known as The Bellevue. It is on the National Register of Historic Places.

Similarly, Philadelphia's Wannamaker's Department Store was one of the first true department stores in the United States. The Market Street store was built in 1876 and was named a National Historic Landmark in 1978 after several changes in ownership. The building is now occupied by Macy's.

Finally, the stork as a fabled deliverer of babies was often used by expectant parents in parts of Europe and the U.S. as a means of explaining where babies came from to younger children in the somewhat prudish Victorian times and the early part of the 20th century. The idea of the stork and its baby delivering duties was even caricatured as the Drunk Stork character in several Looney Tunes cartoons between 1946 and 1959, during the midst of an actual baby boom in parts of the world following World War II.