Part 54: link
FRIDAY
Can toi come accueil early? Arthur sends Gwen a text shortly after lunch. He and Merlin had rescheduled their fencing practice to this morning, followed par lunching together, so Gwen hasn’t seen ou heard from Arthur since she left for work.
Gwen is out amongst the shelves when his text comes through, vibrating once in her pocket. She slips it out quickly and reads the message with a sigh.
Maybe she sends back, then continues reshelving the livres in her hands.
As she shelves the last one, her phone vibrates again.
Please?
She wrinkles her brow, then goes back to her office, closing the door. She pulls her phone out and rings Arthur.
“Is something wrong?” she asks him.
“No. I just want toi to come home.”
“Arthur…”
“I know, you’re working.”
“You’re that lonely?”
“Maybe.”
“Arthur, you’re an only child. I thought that only children were good at amusing themselves.”
“I’d much rather be amusing you.”
So now we have it. He wants me to come accueil so he can have his wicked way with me before dinner. Can I be selfish and knock out of here early for such a reason? Well, I can, but should I?
“Guinevere?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Okay.”
“Three o’clock,” she finally says. I think I can actually hear him smile.
“Oh, good.”
“I’ll see toi soon, Arthur. If I’m leaving early, I should get back to work now.”
“Love you,” he says.
“I l’amour you, too.”
Gwen comes accueil at three fifteen, and the flat is dark and quiet.
“Arthur?” she calls, closing the door and taking her shoes off. What is he up to? The door wasn’t locked, so he’s definitely home. She goes down the hall to the bedroom, where she finds Arthur waiting for her par candlelight.
“Hi,” he says, walking to her and pulling her into his embrace.
“You had me come accueil early so toi could seduce me,” she says. She is not asking; she is stating fact.
“Well, it kind of developed into that.” He kisses her cheek. “At first I just missed toi and wanted some time with toi to myself before I had to share toi with our fathers.” He kisses her lips. “Then my mind got to wandering, thinking about how we could spend that time…” he kisses her neck. Then he kisses it again, lower, and her eyes drift closed while she angles her head to allow him better access.
Her hair is up, and he takes full advantage, s’embrasser his way from one side of her neck to the other, around the back, walking around her as he does so. Guinevere sighs as she feels his hands drag around her waist as he circles her, his lips sending heated chills down her body.
Arthur places a warm, wet Kiss in the hollow of her throat where her collarbones meet before returning his lips to hers, open and wanting, plunging his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. He holds her body flush against his, his hands roving her back, groping for a zipper ou buttons ou something he can unfasten.
He breaks away, looking down at what she is wearing. A dress, with buttons down the front. He groans, and starts undoing them while Gwen laughs at him and pulls his chemise off.
“You don’t need to open them all,” Gwen whispers when Arthur reaches her waist. He stops and she shrugs out of the haut, retour au début of the dress and it slides down to her hips, where she gives it a gentle shove and it falls, pooling at her feet. She kicks it to one side.
Arthur’s hands return to her, his palms flat on her stomach, slipping around her waist to her back. Eyes locked together, she opens the fly on his shorts and pushes them down, along with his underwear. He kicks them to the side, beside her dress.
He slides his hands up her back to unfasten her bra, removing it expertly just before her hand finds him, enclosing his length in her hand. He breathes in sharply, then exhales her name. His hands skim down her back, exploring her backside, eagerly discovering the lanière, thong she has on, toying with it briefly before sliding it down over her hips. Gwen leans up and kisses his neck, trailing kisses along his collarbone to his shoulder.
Suddenly Arthur turns her around in his arms so her back is to him and pulls her against him again. He brings one hand to her breast, running his palm across the taut nipple, the friction sending feu directly to her core. She leans her head back against his shoulder and moans softly as he gently squeezes the soft flesh, s’embrasser her neck and nibbling her ear, while his other hand works its way lower.
She presses back against his erection as his hand finds its destination, slipping his fingers between her legs, into the sensitive folds there. Her knees go weak at his touch and he grins into her neck with satisfaction.
“Arthur…” she breathes, reaching behind them, grabbing his buttocks in one hand, pulling him against her again, pressing his manhood into her back.
His hand at her breast moves across to pay attention to the other one, while his hand below continues turning her into a puddle of need, his fingers alternating between caressing her most sensitive point and thrusting deep inside her. He kisses her neck, her ear, administering gentle bites and delicious licks to her soft skin.
Gwen can hardly stand up any more. Arthur senses this and he spins her around again so she is facing him, and he bends his knees and lifts her in his arms, holding her under her rear. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, holding on, and claims his lips with her own, tongues seeking one another, their lips now swollen and over-sensitized.
With Gwen holding onto his neck, Arthur reaches down and positions her over him, and she slides down around him with a mutual groan of satisfaction. He repositions his hands again, holding her, helping her ride atop him while he works at maintaining his balance. He hardly notices her slight weight, but the motion makes standing a challenge, especially with no mur to lean on this time.
He ducks his head and reaches for a breast with his mouth, catching it briefly, frustratingly, and he decides they had better move.
“Gwen,” he gasps, trying to hold her still at her hips.
“Arthur?” Her eyes are dilated and dazed with passion.
“Hold on.” He wraps his arms around her tightly, and walks the few steps to the bed, still rooted within her.
“Oh!” she gasps, the motion creating a new sensation.
Arthur is intrigued, but remains practical. There is no way I’m walking around like this any plus than I have to. Much too difficult.
At the bed, Arthur leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant carefully, laying her back on the bed. He thrusts his hips vers l'avant, vers l’avant into her as she lands, causing her to cry out again.
Smiling, he leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant to finally Kiss her breasts the way he wants to, and she arches up against him, loving the feel of his tongue and teeth as they create wave after wave of sensation against her nipples. “Arthur…” she gasps, grabbing his head and pulling his hair.
He moans against her, her hands in his hair only spurring him on. He lifts his head and straightens up a bit to resume driving into her in earnest.
“Oh… yes… oh… Arthur…”
“Tell me,” he gasps.
“Harder,” she demands. He complies happily, and her hands come up to grasp at his chest, his sides, pulling him towards her.
He does as he is told, leaning over her, thrusting forcefully, s’embrasser her with equal force and passion. She begins whimpering into his mouth, approaching her climax, and she bites his lower lip almost painfully.
“Ah!” he exclaims, the slight pain forcing his eyes open in surprise as she releases his lip and moves to Kiss his neck, grasping at his shoulders.
Her climax hits and she sinks her teeth into his shoulder with another urgent whimpering noise in the back of her throat, followed par another, “Oh!”
Arthur hardly notices the bite as he is releasing into her at the same time, growling like a caged animal before he collapses over her, exhausted.
“You were awfully bite-y this afternoon, my love,” he teases her, caressing her back as she snuggles against him. They are lying sideways across the bed, where they had landed earlier.
“Sorry,” she giggles into his chest.
“Quite all right. It just means that I’m that good,” he says smugly. She yanks a few of his chest hairs in response.
“Ow!” He grabs her hand and lifts it to his lips. He looks at the clock. Dinner reservations are at seven. We have time for a nap, he thinks, his eyes heavy.
“Arthur, what…” Gwen exclaims as he rolls her on haut, retour au début of him again, then scoots them both over to lie on the lit properly, heads on the pillows.
“I was thinking of a nap, but now that I’ve got toi here, I’m beginning to think again,” he says, eyes twinkling.
“A nap sounds good, actua—” he cuts her off with a kiss, his hands resting on her backside. He continues to Kiss her until there is nothing left in either of their minds but desire, his hands squeezing, caressing, teasing her skin until it feels like it is crying out for his touch everywhere at once.
Gwen moans into his neck, s’embrasser it, as she feels him growing hard beneath her again, nudging her stomach. She opens her eyes for a moment and notices the teeth marks on his shoulder. She gasps in surprise, and he starts.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, alarmed, checking her over for injury. “Did I hurt you? What—”
“Arthur, I’m fine. I just, um, noticed… teeth marks. On your shoulder.” She blushes and drops her head onto his chest.
“What? Oh,” he looks down, over at his left shoulder, and sure enough, the evidence of Guinevere’s passion is there, clear as day. Arthur reaches across, over Gwen’s head, and touches it. Doesn’t hurt. He starts laughing, and squeezes her.
“At least it’s not someplace visible,” he laughs, lifting her face to his, eager to resume the activities he had started.
“Arthur, wake up. We have to get ready for dinner,” Gwen whispers in his ear, still cuddled to his side. They both dropped off to sleep almost immediately after they’d made l’amour a seconde time, and Gwen is glad she woke up. That would have been embarrassing. ‘Sorry we’re late to the birthday dîner we invited toi to, we fell asleep after having sex twice this afternoon because I ducked out of work early.’ Yes, very nice.
Arthur tightens his arms around her, not wanting to leave the bed. She shoves him. “Arthur. We have an hour. Get your cul, ass up,” she says, laughing. Then when he lifts just his bum from the bed, doing exactly as he has been told, she laughs more, and shoves him again.
Gwen manages to worm her way out of his grasp, and gets up to dress and make herself look presentable again. In the process, she yanks the covers back, off of Arthur, exposing him to the rapidly-cooling late summer air. She gathers her underthings and goes to the bathroom.
“Not fair!” he yells down the hall at her.
“Get dressed,” she yells back from the bathroom.
He gets up, groaning, wanting nothing plus than to stay in that lit with her the rest of the evening, just holding her close to him. Who’s idea was it to have this dinner, anyway? he thinks, grumpy. Right. Mine.
Arthur is buttoning his chemise as Gwen comes back into the bedroom in her bra and panties, hair now redone with the back long and the haut, retour au début pulled loosely back, away from her face. She selects a dress of a soft light blue that matches Arthur’s eyes.
“Is that new?” he asks, coming over to zip her up.
“Yes, do toi like it?” she twirls for him. It’s a simple dress with a fitted bodice, scoop neck and short sleeves. The jupe flares slightly and ends just above her knees. There is a rosette at the waist made of the same fabric as the rest of the dress, off to one side, not large, but lending interest to the otherwise plain dress.
“Well, it’s not as good as the red one, but I do like it a lot,” he says, and she can feel his eyes roving over her body as if they were his hands.
“Thank you,” she says, reaching up to fix his collar, half of which is flipped inside his shirt.
He bends down and kisses her sweetly. “You are always beautiful,” he says quietly, smiling down at her.
She smiles back at him, and her smile turns into a smirk as she asks, “Even when I’m retching my guts out at three a.m.?”
He kisses her again. “Even then.”
They arrive at the recently re-opened Luigi’s ten minutes early, before their fathers arrive. Uther arrives next, followed shortly par Tom, and they are promptly seated.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Pendragon,” Gwen says, leaning over to Kiss his cheek.
“Well, that’s all the gift I need, thank you, my dear,” Uther chuckles, and Tom and Gwen both laugh with him. Arthur laughs a little, still not quite used to his father’s mysterious affection for his fiancée.
“Oh, well, then, I guess we don’t need to give toi this, then, do we?” Arthur says, holding his father’s gift aloft.
“Now, let’s not be hasty,” he says, reaching for it. Just then the waiter arrives to take drink orders. Once he’s gone, Uther unwraps the box and opens the lid.
Arthur and Gwen hold their breath, not sure how he’s going to react.
Uther stares at it, his face blank. His jaw twitches once, and Arthur is certain he’s going to start shouting any minute.
Tom leans over to take a look. “That is beautiful,” he says quietly.
“Yes,” Uther finally says, “it is. It’s beautiful.” He looks up at Arthur. “Where did toi find this? I thought I’d Lost it.”
“Guinevere found it, in the wardrobe at the cottage. She had her things in there and she just sort of happened upon it. We’ve had it restored for you. We’re, um, hoping that you’ll find a good place to display it.”
Uther looks at Gwen, then back to Arthur. “This was my favori picture. toi have no idea… Yes, I will. I know just where I’ll put it. And then I’ll have to find a good place for it at the new house,” he finally smiles.
“Father… are toi crying?” Arthur teases gently.
Uther clears his throat. “Certainly not! Someone must be, um, cutting onions nearby,” he protests.
“Thank toi both. It’s lovely. The restoration is perfect, and the frame is beautiful.”
“That was all Gwen,” Arthur says, looking at her and placing his hand over hers.
“It was surprisingly easy to find a gift for a man who has everything already,” Gwen says, grinning impishly.
“My turn,” Tom says, swinging a gift bag up onto the table. “Couldn’t arrive empty-handed, now, could I?”
“Thank you, Tom,” Uther says, and reaches into the bag. He withdraws a bottle of fine cognac. “Very nice,” he says, nodding.
“There’s more,” Tom says, tipping the bag, and two exquisite cigars land on the table.
“Cuban?” he asks, lifting one to smell it.
“Of course,” Tom replies.
“Next time we golf, then,” Uther nods.
“Ah, yes, golf. I really wanted to buy toi a new short game for your birthday, but the boutique was all out,” he teases.
Arthur and Gwen watch their fathers interact, curious and a little stunned.
“Oh! This from the man who cannot putt his way out of a paper bag!” Uther exclaims.
“Honestly, the man has a beautiful tee shot, and his putting is, oh, above average, but put a wedge in his hands at 100 yards to the pin and you’d think he was swinging one of these,” he holds up a breadstick, “at the ball,” Tom explains to Arthur and Gwen.
Arthur nods, pretending to understand, and Gwen laughs.
Over dessert, Tom asks Arthur and Gwen about honeymoon plans. “Any place special in mind?”
“Well, Guinevere has mentioned Hawaii, and I’ve always wanted to go there myself. We’re also talking about Italy. But I think we’re both leaning towards Hawaii, especially considering the time of year.”
“We’re going to wait until after the déplacer before we go, so it’ll be November. So a tropical climate would be most welcome,” Gwen explains.
Tom hands them a business card for a travel agent. “Go see this woman. She’ll set everything up for you. On me.”
“Daddy, no…” Gwen says, tears coming to her eyes.
“Guinevere, yes,” he insists. “I can’t have this one montrer me up, toi know,” he indicates Uther, winking at her.
“Oh, so that’s it, is it? I give them a house so toi give them two weeks in paradise?” Uther laughs.
“Two weeks?” Arthur sputters. “Thank you, Tom, really, I’m speechless.”
“Not at all, Arthur, I’m happy to…” he trails off, looking uncomfortable. He pulls at his collar.
“Daddy? Are toi all right?” Gwen asks, reaching across the table, tableau to him.
“I’m just… having some trouble… breathing…” he blinks a few times, and he puts his hand to his chest. “Feels tight…”
“Dizzy?” Arthur asks, watching him intently. Tom nods, beads of sweat standing out on his brow.
Gwen stands and crosses to him, kneeling beside him and taking his hand.
“Father, dial 999; I think he’s having a cœur, coeur attack!” Arthur orders, and surprisingly, Uther quickly pulls his phone out and dials.
“Excuse me, please! Does anyone have any aspirin? Proper aspirin, not Tylenol,” Arthur stands and announces to the restaurant. People are already starting to stare, so why not? he thinks.
An elderly woman seated with her husband nearby says, “Yes, young man, I have some,” and digs into her purse.
Arthur rushes over to her. “Two, please, if toi can spare them,” he asks.
“Of course, here toi are.” She places them in his waiting hand.
“Thank toi very much,” he says as he rushes away.
He comes back to the table, tableau and crushes the tablets between two spoons. He glances at Tom. His eyes are closed and he appears to be in pain, gritting his teeth.
“I know it tastes terrible, but take it anyway.” He pours the powder into Tom’s mouth, who winces at the amer taste, then gives him his glass of water to drink.
“Please, Daddy, hold on,” Gwen says, and they hear the sirens approaching.
Uther notices the waiter and the manager standing nearby, and he turns to them. “That ambulance toi hear is for this man. Make sure they can get to us,” he barks at them, and they hurry off.
Gwen goes with her father in the ambulance, looking back at Arthur as she climbs in.
“I’ll be right behind you, love, go.” He rushes back into the restaurant, drops some bills onto the table, guessing at the amount and probably well overpaying. He blows a Kiss to the lady who had donné him the aspirin before he runs back out the door to find his father standing under the canopy with his parcels, watching the ambulance.
“I’m coming with you,” Uther says, following quickly as Arthur jogs to his car.
Part 56: link
FRIDAY
Can toi come accueil early? Arthur sends Gwen a text shortly after lunch. He and Merlin had rescheduled their fencing practice to this morning, followed par lunching together, so Gwen hasn’t seen ou heard from Arthur since she left for work.
Gwen is out amongst the shelves when his text comes through, vibrating once in her pocket. She slips it out quickly and reads the message with a sigh.
Maybe she sends back, then continues reshelving the livres in her hands.
As she shelves the last one, her phone vibrates again.
Please?
She wrinkles her brow, then goes back to her office, closing the door. She pulls her phone out and rings Arthur.
“Is something wrong?” she asks him.
“No. I just want toi to come home.”
“Arthur…”
“I know, you’re working.”
“You’re that lonely?”
“Maybe.”
“Arthur, you’re an only child. I thought that only children were good at amusing themselves.”
“I’d much rather be amusing you.”
So now we have it. He wants me to come accueil so he can have his wicked way with me before dinner. Can I be selfish and knock out of here early for such a reason? Well, I can, but should I?
“Guinevere?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Okay.”
“Three o’clock,” she finally says. I think I can actually hear him smile.
“Oh, good.”
“I’ll see toi soon, Arthur. If I’m leaving early, I should get back to work now.”
“Love you,” he says.
“I l’amour you, too.”
Gwen comes accueil at three fifteen, and the flat is dark and quiet.
“Arthur?” she calls, closing the door and taking her shoes off. What is he up to? The door wasn’t locked, so he’s definitely home. She goes down the hall to the bedroom, where she finds Arthur waiting for her par candlelight.
“Hi,” he says, walking to her and pulling her into his embrace.
“You had me come accueil early so toi could seduce me,” she says. She is not asking; she is stating fact.
“Well, it kind of developed into that.” He kisses her cheek. “At first I just missed toi and wanted some time with toi to myself before I had to share toi with our fathers.” He kisses her lips. “Then my mind got to wandering, thinking about how we could spend that time…” he kisses her neck. Then he kisses it again, lower, and her eyes drift closed while she angles her head to allow him better access.
Her hair is up, and he takes full advantage, s’embrasser his way from one side of her neck to the other, around the back, walking around her as he does so. Guinevere sighs as she feels his hands drag around her waist as he circles her, his lips sending heated chills down her body.
Arthur places a warm, wet Kiss in the hollow of her throat where her collarbones meet before returning his lips to hers, open and wanting, plunging his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. He holds her body flush against his, his hands roving her back, groping for a zipper ou buttons ou something he can unfasten.
He breaks away, looking down at what she is wearing. A dress, with buttons down the front. He groans, and starts undoing them while Gwen laughs at him and pulls his chemise off.
“You don’t need to open them all,” Gwen whispers when Arthur reaches her waist. He stops and she shrugs out of the haut, retour au début of the dress and it slides down to her hips, where she gives it a gentle shove and it falls, pooling at her feet. She kicks it to one side.
Arthur’s hands return to her, his palms flat on her stomach, slipping around her waist to her back. Eyes locked together, she opens the fly on his shorts and pushes them down, along with his underwear. He kicks them to the side, beside her dress.
He slides his hands up her back to unfasten her bra, removing it expertly just before her hand finds him, enclosing his length in her hand. He breathes in sharply, then exhales her name. His hands skim down her back, exploring her backside, eagerly discovering the lanière, thong she has on, toying with it briefly before sliding it down over her hips. Gwen leans up and kisses his neck, trailing kisses along his collarbone to his shoulder.
Suddenly Arthur turns her around in his arms so her back is to him and pulls her against him again. He brings one hand to her breast, running his palm across the taut nipple, the friction sending feu directly to her core. She leans her head back against his shoulder and moans softly as he gently squeezes the soft flesh, s’embrasser her neck and nibbling her ear, while his other hand works its way lower.
She presses back against his erection as his hand finds its destination, slipping his fingers between her legs, into the sensitive folds there. Her knees go weak at his touch and he grins into her neck with satisfaction.
“Arthur…” she breathes, reaching behind them, grabbing his buttocks in one hand, pulling him against her again, pressing his manhood into her back.
His hand at her breast moves across to pay attention to the other one, while his hand below continues turning her into a puddle of need, his fingers alternating between caressing her most sensitive point and thrusting deep inside her. He kisses her neck, her ear, administering gentle bites and delicious licks to her soft skin.
Gwen can hardly stand up any more. Arthur senses this and he spins her around again so she is facing him, and he bends his knees and lifts her in his arms, holding her under her rear. She wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, holding on, and claims his lips with her own, tongues seeking one another, their lips now swollen and over-sensitized.
With Gwen holding onto his neck, Arthur reaches down and positions her over him, and she slides down around him with a mutual groan of satisfaction. He repositions his hands again, holding her, helping her ride atop him while he works at maintaining his balance. He hardly notices her slight weight, but the motion makes standing a challenge, especially with no mur to lean on this time.
He ducks his head and reaches for a breast with his mouth, catching it briefly, frustratingly, and he decides they had better move.
“Gwen,” he gasps, trying to hold her still at her hips.
“Arthur?” Her eyes are dilated and dazed with passion.
“Hold on.” He wraps his arms around her tightly, and walks the few steps to the bed, still rooted within her.
“Oh!” she gasps, the motion creating a new sensation.
Arthur is intrigued, but remains practical. There is no way I’m walking around like this any plus than I have to. Much too difficult.
At the bed, Arthur leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant carefully, laying her back on the bed. He thrusts his hips vers l'avant, vers l’avant into her as she lands, causing her to cry out again.
Smiling, he leans vers l'avant, vers l’avant to finally Kiss her breasts the way he wants to, and she arches up against him, loving the feel of his tongue and teeth as they create wave after wave of sensation against her nipples. “Arthur…” she gasps, grabbing his head and pulling his hair.
He moans against her, her hands in his hair only spurring him on. He lifts his head and straightens up a bit to resume driving into her in earnest.
“Oh… yes… oh… Arthur…”
“Tell me,” he gasps.
“Harder,” she demands. He complies happily, and her hands come up to grasp at his chest, his sides, pulling him towards her.
He does as he is told, leaning over her, thrusting forcefully, s’embrasser her with equal force and passion. She begins whimpering into his mouth, approaching her climax, and she bites his lower lip almost painfully.
“Ah!” he exclaims, the slight pain forcing his eyes open in surprise as she releases his lip and moves to Kiss his neck, grasping at his shoulders.
Her climax hits and she sinks her teeth into his shoulder with another urgent whimpering noise in the back of her throat, followed par another, “Oh!”
Arthur hardly notices the bite as he is releasing into her at the same time, growling like a caged animal before he collapses over her, exhausted.
“You were awfully bite-y this afternoon, my love,” he teases her, caressing her back as she snuggles against him. They are lying sideways across the bed, where they had landed earlier.
“Sorry,” she giggles into his chest.
“Quite all right. It just means that I’m that good,” he says smugly. She yanks a few of his chest hairs in response.
“Ow!” He grabs her hand and lifts it to his lips. He looks at the clock. Dinner reservations are at seven. We have time for a nap, he thinks, his eyes heavy.
“Arthur, what…” Gwen exclaims as he rolls her on haut, retour au début of him again, then scoots them both over to lie on the lit properly, heads on the pillows.
“I was thinking of a nap, but now that I’ve got toi here, I’m beginning to think again,” he says, eyes twinkling.
“A nap sounds good, actua—” he cuts her off with a kiss, his hands resting on her backside. He continues to Kiss her until there is nothing left in either of their minds but desire, his hands squeezing, caressing, teasing her skin until it feels like it is crying out for his touch everywhere at once.
Gwen moans into his neck, s’embrasser it, as she feels him growing hard beneath her again, nudging her stomach. She opens her eyes for a moment and notices the teeth marks on his shoulder. She gasps in surprise, and he starts.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, alarmed, checking her over for injury. “Did I hurt you? What—”
“Arthur, I’m fine. I just, um, noticed… teeth marks. On your shoulder.” She blushes and drops her head onto his chest.
“What? Oh,” he looks down, over at his left shoulder, and sure enough, the evidence of Guinevere’s passion is there, clear as day. Arthur reaches across, over Gwen’s head, and touches it. Doesn’t hurt. He starts laughing, and squeezes her.
“At least it’s not someplace visible,” he laughs, lifting her face to his, eager to resume the activities he had started.
“Arthur, wake up. We have to get ready for dinner,” Gwen whispers in his ear, still cuddled to his side. They both dropped off to sleep almost immediately after they’d made l’amour a seconde time, and Gwen is glad she woke up. That would have been embarrassing. ‘Sorry we’re late to the birthday dîner we invited toi to, we fell asleep after having sex twice this afternoon because I ducked out of work early.’ Yes, very nice.
Arthur tightens his arms around her, not wanting to leave the bed. She shoves him. “Arthur. We have an hour. Get your cul, ass up,” she says, laughing. Then when he lifts just his bum from the bed, doing exactly as he has been told, she laughs more, and shoves him again.
Gwen manages to worm her way out of his grasp, and gets up to dress and make herself look presentable again. In the process, she yanks the covers back, off of Arthur, exposing him to the rapidly-cooling late summer air. She gathers her underthings and goes to the bathroom.
“Not fair!” he yells down the hall at her.
“Get dressed,” she yells back from the bathroom.
He gets up, groaning, wanting nothing plus than to stay in that lit with her the rest of the evening, just holding her close to him. Who’s idea was it to have this dinner, anyway? he thinks, grumpy. Right. Mine.
Arthur is buttoning his chemise as Gwen comes back into the bedroom in her bra and panties, hair now redone with the back long and the haut, retour au début pulled loosely back, away from her face. She selects a dress of a soft light blue that matches Arthur’s eyes.
“Is that new?” he asks, coming over to zip her up.
“Yes, do toi like it?” she twirls for him. It’s a simple dress with a fitted bodice, scoop neck and short sleeves. The jupe flares slightly and ends just above her knees. There is a rosette at the waist made of the same fabric as the rest of the dress, off to one side, not large, but lending interest to the otherwise plain dress.
“Well, it’s not as good as the red one, but I do like it a lot,” he says, and she can feel his eyes roving over her body as if they were his hands.
“Thank you,” she says, reaching up to fix his collar, half of which is flipped inside his shirt.
He bends down and kisses her sweetly. “You are always beautiful,” he says quietly, smiling down at her.
She smiles back at him, and her smile turns into a smirk as she asks, “Even when I’m retching my guts out at three a.m.?”
He kisses her again. “Even then.”
They arrive at the recently re-opened Luigi’s ten minutes early, before their fathers arrive. Uther arrives next, followed shortly par Tom, and they are promptly seated.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Pendragon,” Gwen says, leaning over to Kiss his cheek.
“Well, that’s all the gift I need, thank you, my dear,” Uther chuckles, and Tom and Gwen both laugh with him. Arthur laughs a little, still not quite used to his father’s mysterious affection for his fiancée.
“Oh, well, then, I guess we don’t need to give toi this, then, do we?” Arthur says, holding his father’s gift aloft.
“Now, let’s not be hasty,” he says, reaching for it. Just then the waiter arrives to take drink orders. Once he’s gone, Uther unwraps the box and opens the lid.
Arthur and Gwen hold their breath, not sure how he’s going to react.
Uther stares at it, his face blank. His jaw twitches once, and Arthur is certain he’s going to start shouting any minute.
Tom leans over to take a look. “That is beautiful,” he says quietly.
“Yes,” Uther finally says, “it is. It’s beautiful.” He looks up at Arthur. “Where did toi find this? I thought I’d Lost it.”
“Guinevere found it, in the wardrobe at the cottage. She had her things in there and she just sort of happened upon it. We’ve had it restored for you. We’re, um, hoping that you’ll find a good place to display it.”
Uther looks at Gwen, then back to Arthur. “This was my favori picture. toi have no idea… Yes, I will. I know just where I’ll put it. And then I’ll have to find a good place for it at the new house,” he finally smiles.
“Father… are toi crying?” Arthur teases gently.
Uther clears his throat. “Certainly not! Someone must be, um, cutting onions nearby,” he protests.
“Thank toi both. It’s lovely. The restoration is perfect, and the frame is beautiful.”
“That was all Gwen,” Arthur says, looking at her and placing his hand over hers.
“It was surprisingly easy to find a gift for a man who has everything already,” Gwen says, grinning impishly.
“My turn,” Tom says, swinging a gift bag up onto the table. “Couldn’t arrive empty-handed, now, could I?”
“Thank you, Tom,” Uther says, and reaches into the bag. He withdraws a bottle of fine cognac. “Very nice,” he says, nodding.
“There’s more,” Tom says, tipping the bag, and two exquisite cigars land on the table.
“Cuban?” he asks, lifting one to smell it.
“Of course,” Tom replies.
“Next time we golf, then,” Uther nods.
“Ah, yes, golf. I really wanted to buy toi a new short game for your birthday, but the boutique was all out,” he teases.
Arthur and Gwen watch their fathers interact, curious and a little stunned.
“Oh! This from the man who cannot putt his way out of a paper bag!” Uther exclaims.
“Honestly, the man has a beautiful tee shot, and his putting is, oh, above average, but put a wedge in his hands at 100 yards to the pin and you’d think he was swinging one of these,” he holds up a breadstick, “at the ball,” Tom explains to Arthur and Gwen.
Arthur nods, pretending to understand, and Gwen laughs.
Over dessert, Tom asks Arthur and Gwen about honeymoon plans. “Any place special in mind?”
“Well, Guinevere has mentioned Hawaii, and I’ve always wanted to go there myself. We’re also talking about Italy. But I think we’re both leaning towards Hawaii, especially considering the time of year.”
“We’re going to wait until after the déplacer before we go, so it’ll be November. So a tropical climate would be most welcome,” Gwen explains.
Tom hands them a business card for a travel agent. “Go see this woman. She’ll set everything up for you. On me.”
“Daddy, no…” Gwen says, tears coming to her eyes.
“Guinevere, yes,” he insists. “I can’t have this one montrer me up, toi know,” he indicates Uther, winking at her.
“Oh, so that’s it, is it? I give them a house so toi give them two weeks in paradise?” Uther laughs.
“Two weeks?” Arthur sputters. “Thank you, Tom, really, I’m speechless.”
“Not at all, Arthur, I’m happy to…” he trails off, looking uncomfortable. He pulls at his collar.
“Daddy? Are toi all right?” Gwen asks, reaching across the table, tableau to him.
“I’m just… having some trouble… breathing…” he blinks a few times, and he puts his hand to his chest. “Feels tight…”
“Dizzy?” Arthur asks, watching him intently. Tom nods, beads of sweat standing out on his brow.
Gwen stands and crosses to him, kneeling beside him and taking his hand.
“Father, dial 999; I think he’s having a cœur, coeur attack!” Arthur orders, and surprisingly, Uther quickly pulls his phone out and dials.
“Excuse me, please! Does anyone have any aspirin? Proper aspirin, not Tylenol,” Arthur stands and announces to the restaurant. People are already starting to stare, so why not? he thinks.
An elderly woman seated with her husband nearby says, “Yes, young man, I have some,” and digs into her purse.
Arthur rushes over to her. “Two, please, if toi can spare them,” he asks.
“Of course, here toi are.” She places them in his waiting hand.
“Thank toi very much,” he says as he rushes away.
He comes back to the table, tableau and crushes the tablets between two spoons. He glances at Tom. His eyes are closed and he appears to be in pain, gritting his teeth.
“I know it tastes terrible, but take it anyway.” He pours the powder into Tom’s mouth, who winces at the amer taste, then gives him his glass of water to drink.
“Please, Daddy, hold on,” Gwen says, and they hear the sirens approaching.
Uther notices the waiter and the manager standing nearby, and he turns to them. “That ambulance toi hear is for this man. Make sure they can get to us,” he barks at them, and they hurry off.
Gwen goes with her father in the ambulance, looking back at Arthur as she climbs in.
“I’ll be right behind you, love, go.” He rushes back into the restaurant, drops some bills onto the table, guessing at the amount and probably well overpaying. He blows a Kiss to the lady who had donné him the aspirin before he runs back out the door to find his father standing under the canopy with his parcels, watching the ambulance.
“I’m coming with you,” Uther says, following quickly as Arthur jogs to his car.
Part 56: link
![The Evolution of Arthur & Guinevere [10]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/33900000/The-Evolution-of-Arthur-Guinevere-10-arthur-and-gwen-33986560-245-170.gif)
