Elsie the Cow Ch. 02

As always after a wedding, I was so keyed up for the month following that I was worthless. All I could think of was what was between my legs and what was hanging off my chest. I wanted to be pregnant again and was afraid those days were behind me. My periods were coming sporadically and I knew menopause was just around the corner.

I was ashamed as well as proud when Margaret showed up at the house in the green shift announcing her pregnancy. Ashamed because I was jealous. Proud because she was my daughter.

When I got my period I wore the red of ovulation and accepted every man who asked.

But I still didn't catch.

Then, one evening, David came home from work with a big grin on his face.

"What?" I said, giggling at his obvious excitement. God, he looked like a little boy who needed to go to the bathroom the way he was dancing from foot to foot.

"There's going to be a First Celebration this weekend," he said.

"Wonderful," I said.

In The Community, a girl is a girl until she turns 18 and then she is wed to her betrothed, a marriage typically arranged when she was born. A boy, though, is a boy until he decides he's ready. That typically happens around 19 or 20. The same breeding program that has given the women of The Community big breasts that produce well has left the males with puberty delayed. Then he selects his First and they are exclusive until she gives him his first baby.

"Who?" I asked.

"Benjamin," he said, and I couldn't help the grin on my face. Benjamin had been our paperboy, our lawn boy, our pool boy, and David's all-around helper for most of his life.

"That's wonderful," I said, "and who will be his first?"

David's grin got even bigger, something I hadn't thought possible.

"You, gorgeous," he said.

I had seen the phrase "her knees got weak" written, of course, but this was the first time I ever felt it happen.

My breath caught, my knees got weak, tears started flowing, and I said, "Don't tease me about something like this."

"I wouldn't," he said, taking me into his arms, holding me, "God, I'm so proud of you."

"He really chose me?" I asked

He was smiling at me like a very proud papa when his daughter has won the spelling bee.

"Yes, Paulette," he said, and his use of my full name told me he was serious, I am almost always Elsie or Pauly to the world, "he asked me earlier today and I thanked him for the honor."

He kissed me again and flashed a grin, "Maybe now we can complete our baseball team."

I giggled at that. We had eight children and David had always said he wanted a full baseball team. But my youngest was three now and I was beginning to think she would be my last. I could already feel menopause beginning and I hated it.

When you're chosen as a First you are exclusively His until you prove gravid. By tradition, if you haven't quickened after a year He can choose another for his first baby, but I could not remember that happening.

I was crying. No, that is far too gentle a word. I was bawling, my entire body was wracked. I couldn't breathe.

"Easy Pauly," he was saying, his hands gentle on my back, rubbing.

"What if I," I started but he cut me off with a kiss.

"I figure about this time next year we'll be griping about diaper changes and 2 a.m. feedings," he said, reading my mind as he sometimes did and making me giggle weakly.

I got myself under control.

"Are you okay," he asked, holding me so my cheek was against his chest. He was stroking my hair, petting me like a cat. I liked it.

"I'm just worried," I said, "you know how it is. The change is starting."

He patted my back and then reached down and patted my belly. "Don't worry," he said, "you're far from done."

"God I love you," I said and threw my arms around his neck.

I was hopeless for the next few days. I burned meals, broke dishes, had to be reminded to change the cat litter, and forgot a dental appointment. ALL I could think of was that I had been chosen as a First. I was walking on air and trembling with nerves by turns.

When Friday arrived David took the day off to help me prepare, as husbands do.

He brought me breakfast in bed, the little homemade egg McMuffins he knew I loved, with coffee and orange juice. He plumped the pillows behind me and fed me, telling me I was beautiful and he was proud of me. I accepted the ministrations, as was my due, but I shed tears as well.

When I was fed he walked me into the bathroom, wiped me when I was finished, and then into the front room.

He had the big Tupperware bowl I used for tossed salads ready with hot water, as hot as I could stand. I could smell the Epsom salt in it as I lowered my feet into the footbath.

While I soaked he did my fingernails.

David is a good husband and understands all of his duties. He carefully shaped them and then used the Cobalt Blue polish, the color of a First, to finish them.

On his knees, a towel across his lap, he did my feet. He used the little callus block on my heels and the insipient bunions. Then he shaped the nails using only the emery file, and polished them, matching the color of my fingernails.

All of this attention had used up most of the morning.

He walked me up to the bedroom and showed me the First robe he had made. To make the presentation robe is the responsibility of the male in charge of the one chosen as First, a husband or father or, rarely, an older brother. He had me lift my arms and I giggled when he bent and kissed the hair of my armpit before he put the robe, actually a one-piece shift although it was always called a robe, on me.

He tested the fit and then took it off of me. He carefully ripped a bit of the seam under the arm and then resewed it, before putting it back on me. It was just a bit tight across the bust now, and I felt my nipples tighten from the gentle pressure. I was not surprised when he walked me to the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door and there were two wet spots where my nipples were leaking a little.

"Perfect!" he announced.

He lifted the shift off of me and said, "hold that thought." He left and I heard him on the stairs and assumed he would be putting the shift into the washing machine.

I heard the blender running and giggled. I knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, he was back with a giant glass of a thick, yellowish liquid. It was the energy smoothie, the same as we had prepared for our girls on their wedding days. A healthy mixture of bananas, cinnamon, yogurt, dates, sesame seeds, and French vanilla ice cream, it was guaranteed to keep you going all day or, in my case I suppose, all night.

He stayed with me while I slowly got the energy bomb down. His fingertips were light on my skin. It was almost as if he was a blind man wanting to remember what I looked like. He told me, over and over, that I was beautiful, that he was proud of me, and that Benjamin was a brilliant young man to choose me. I wallowed in the attention.

"Rest now, baby," he said, "you have a big night in front of you. I'll wake you at three and have you ready for presentation at five."

He turned out the light.

I couldn't get to sleep so I masturbated.

And then slept.

I woke, giggling, as the Schnauzer was licking my face.

"Okay," he said, shooing the dog away, "your duty is done."

He looked down at me and I was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

"I am so proud of you," he said, and kissed me. I could tell he wanted me but we both knew it wouldn't be proper on a First celebration.

He helped me out of bed and walked me into the bathroom. I sat and he turned the water on in the shower.

When I was done he wiped me carefully and then walked me into the shower.

It was wonderfully sensuous but not sexual at all, the way he bathed me. He did my face, then my hair, shampooing, rinsing, and conditioner, and then my body. He was careful and thorough, getting every fold and roll clean all the way to the bottom. He shampooed the hair of my armpits and my pubis separately.

When he had me clean and dry he gave me a strawberry douche before starting on my hair and makeup.

I was ready, clean, made up, my hair looking good, flip flops on my feet to avoid dirty soles as I made The Walk, and a terrycloth robe. The Cobalt shift would be put on me when I was summoned.

We arrived at the Meeting Hall at ten minutes to five, and David left me in the anteroom to let Charles know we were ready.

We could hear the hubbub and then the silence as Charles took the podium. His voice came clearly into the anteroom as he started the Ceremony.

"A First is the most special day for a male of The Community," he intoned in his wonderful baritone voice, "and today we celebrate Benjamin becoming a man."

There was a pause and I could see, in my mind's eye, Benjamin moving to stand beside Charles, to complete the questions into the microphone and announce his decision.

"Benjamin," Charles said, "are you ready for your First?"

"I am," Benjamin replied.

"And have you selected your First?"

"I have."

David tapped me on the shoulder and I raised my arms so he could drape the shift over me.

"Bring forth this New Man's First," Charles said with a rising voice.

David opened the door to the anteroom and walked me into the main hall, right to the edge of the white carpet.

"Is this your choice?" Charles asked.

"It is," Benjamin said.

"Paulette, come forth," Charles said.

I didn't look back at David, I just kicked off my flip flops and started making The Walk only a few women get to make in their lives.

My head was high and I could feel my nipples leaking.

"You have been chosen as Benjamin's First," Charles said, and then added the obligatory question to which no woman would ever say 'no,' "do you accept?"

I was surprised to feel a tear escape as I said, "I am honored to accept."

"Benjamin," Charles said, "unveil your First to The Community."

He stepped forward and reached down for the hem of the shift. I smiled and lifted my arms, bending to help him as he peeled it off.

"Take her hands," Charles said.

He took my hands and we stood, looking into each other's eyes.

"Go forth and multiply," Charles said, "is our commandment. Accept this woman, a woman in full flower, to bear your first child."

Benjamin closed the distance between us and kissed me.

"I accept her."

Applause broke out and someone called out "FIRST PARTY!"

Charles crooked his finger, beckoning us, and handcuffed us together, my right wrist cuffed to Benjamin's left.

He smiled and kissed me, kissed Benjamin, said, "excellent choice," and then headed for the bar.

Music was playing and he led me to the dance floor where we would start the first dance. As always, the first song was Elvis Presley's "Hawaiin Wedding Song."

A full gathering of The Community is one hell of a big party and soon enough it got loud. We sat at the front table, accepting congratulations. All eight of my kids came by with congratulations, even the three-year-old daughter who wasn't really clear about what was going on. My husband came over offering congratulations and telling Benjamin he had chosen well.

I was happy to see that Benjamin's mother, Rachel, was hanging onto David pretty possessively. Rachel is the perfect image of Earth Mother. She's pretty in that round-faced way of a truly fat girl. She is short and round, her belly a mass of very dark stretch marks that trail around her hips to her ass, her breasts heavy, laying on her belly, were dripping. It was pretty obvious that David wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight.

During a lull in the congratulations, I finally got to ask the question that had been nagging me since David first said I had been chosen.

"Why me, Benjamin?" I asked.

He grinned, a delightfully boyish grin.

"You really don't know?" he asked.

"No. Why me?" I repeated.

"Paulette," he said, using my full name, "I've known you would be my First since the first time you offered me milk," and he lifted my breast and took a little drink.

I damn near swooned.

I gathered myself together and offered my breast to him. "Call me Elsie," I said, brushing my drippy nipple against his lips.

He latched on and I laughed as those near noticed and applauded.

"Take me to the cottage, baby, please," I said very softly, "before I explode."

As we started walking through the crowd, being congratulated and patted, we picked up a pretty good-sized following.

Walking along with about 30 people following us making ribald remarks was the first time I felt nervous since my own wedding.

Finally behind closed doors, although the noisy outdoor party continued outside, he kissed me, our first real man-woman kiss.

It wasn't a particularly good kiss ((giggles)). That's hardly surprising since I was his First and part of my responsibility was to teach him what he needs to know.

So I kissed him back. Hard. Hell, it's not like I had to fake anything. I was about to explode.

I traced his lips with my tongue, and pulled him to me, holding that kiss until his tongue met mine.

"Undo the cuffs, honey, please," I said.

He grinned.

"Gonna run off?" he asked.

"No baby," I said, and kissed him again, "I need my hands free to show you where to touch, how to touch, how to meet a woman's needs," I said. I leaned back far enough to meet his eyes. "You already know how to meet a man's needs," I said with a giggle and reached down and touched his erection through his jeans.

I was pleased to see a distinct trembling in his fingers when he got the key out and uncuffed us.

I took him in my arms then and kissed him, hard, making sure he knew I wanted him.

He was dressed in a late teenager's semi-formal uniform of button-down, Oxford cloth shirt, khakis, socks, and loafers.

I unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off of him, kissing the skin I revealed. His nipples were hard little points and a little circle of goosebumps followed my fingertip as I tickled skin.

I held his eyes with mine as I eased down to my knees before him and took each foot in turn in my lap to get his shoes and socks off of him. He had to put his hands on my shoulders to keep his balance.

I was a little surprised that my own fingers were trembling a little as I undid the button of his khakis and then unzipped.

I leaned forward and kissed his navel as I began working the khakis and boxers down as a unit.

And he came. Just like that. No warning at all.

I felt the hot jet of his semen hit the bottom of my chin and my boobs.

"Oh my God," he whispered, "Oh, Paulette, I'm so sorry."

I could hear the desperation in his voice as I stood and wrapped him in an embrace.

"No, baby, no," I was saying softly, holding him tight to me, pressing my body against his, "Oh Benjamin, God, no. Don't apologize, honey, don't you realize?"

I leaned back just far enough to be able to meet his eyes. I could see tears welling and I covered his face with kisses.

"Realize?" he managed, as I more or less forced him to meet my eyes.

"Benjamin," I said, using his full name deliberately and then kissing him and wrapping him in an embrace again, "you just paid me a wonderful compliment, honey," I said, my lips brushing the shell of his ear as I said it, knowing my breath would be warm in his ear.

"Compliment?" he asked and I was glad to see his depression was breaking. Christ, I had been afraid for a few moments there that he would call the whole thing off.

"Yes, honey," I said, putting soft little kisses on his face between each syllable, "compliment. You can't realize how wonderful it is for an old broad like me to have that sort of an effect on a handsome young man like you."

He smiled finally.

"Old broad?" he asked, but he was smiling, grinning actually.

"What is your age?" I asked, although I knew perfectly well what it was. He was actually about average to his First.

"I'm 19," he said, settling down now that we were having a conversation.

"So I'm twice your age plus 8," I said, "doesn't that count as an old broad?"

And finally, he seemed to be over his "accident."

"It counts as making you the beautiful," and he kissed me, "mature," and he kissed me again, a little longer this time, "woman that I always knew," long, lingering kiss, second kiss, his hand exploring now as he gained confidence, "would be," his hand were entwined in my hair now, holding me, not pulling and hurting but he was controlling in a very mature way, kissing me, a good, lingering kiss, "my First," he said, finally pushing me away to arm's length and just looking me up and down.

And he had gotten to me. My womanscent, my desirescent, was strong in the air, loaded with the pheromones of my need.

And he was growing erect, making us both smile as we felt it against my belly.

I giggled and kissed him.

"Are you ever going to take me to bed, my love?" I said, hoping I wasn't overdoing it but thinking it seemed appropriate for a First.

His smile told me I had struck the proper note.

He led me to bed and turned down the spread and top sheet. The First cottage was kept warm making clothing definitely optional. I liked that he held my hand as he helped me up onto the bed.

When he got in with me he started to climb on top.

"Easy, cowboy," I said, smiling, "I'm yours until you knock me up so there's no hurry, okay?"

He grinned and in that wonderfully adult way he had always had said, "I place myself in your hands."

I giggled and kissed him.

"It's called foreplay, honey," I said, "and what my mama taught me was that a man should be able to give a woman at least three climaxes before he is concerned with his own pleasure. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

He grinned, a little bashfully this time, and said, "I know, I guess you'd say 'theoretically,' but remember," and then he flashed that full-on grin I knew would melt women's hearts all of his life, "you ARE my First."

I giggled and took his hand and guided it down my belly, using my finger on top of his to find my clitoris, hiding as it does deep under the fatty pad of my clitoral hood.

I started making little circles on that bud of my pleasure until he was making them on his own.

"That's nice honey," I said, "now kisses while you're doing it."

He was a very quick learner.

He was masturbating me nicely, covering my face with kisses, and my body was responding. That wonderful pressure deep in my belly was building and I realized my breath was catching.

"Oh," I sort of squeaked as he took me almost over the top, "easy honey. Feel me," quick breath, "feel me tense up. Now slow down and hold me," sudden gasp.

"HONEY!" and he took me over the top. I came, as I always do, wetly, my natural lubricant running freely.

"Oh HONEY!" I sort of moaned again, my hips rocking to meet his finger which was still at me.

"Do you like it?" he asked, and I managed a soft "yes" before he took me over again, this time speeding up his rhythm and adding more pressure, taking it to almost painful with the pressure as he rolled my clitoris.

"Don't stop," he said, his finger moving even faster and making me cum for the third time in less than a minute. This time it was so intense I couldn't stop my body from rolling away and curling around where the sensation was too much to stand.

"Oh God," he said, his hand light on my back, "did I hurt you."

I laughed, probably sounding a little hysterical, and said, "oh Benjamin, what you just did is the exact opposite of hurt."

"Sooooooooooooo," he said, dragging out the vowel, "was that three."

I laughed, rolled onto my back, and held out my arms.

"Yes, baby," I said, pulling my knees up so they touched my boobs, "that was three now come and fill me up."

I watched his face as he moved around, his knees between mine, and then reached down to guide himself. As he entered me his smile was so perfect I damn near came again.