My Friends the Allens -- Tanya Fills In
by Mark Aster

= = =
Note: this story takes place in a fantasy world where
vaccines against AIDS and pregnancy are safe and common,
and casual sex with strangers is not suicidally stupid.
The real world, sadly, is not like this: so don't try
this at home, folks.
= = =

Hi!  No, he's not here right now, I'm afraid.  He asked me to
fill in for him.  I hope that's OK?

My name's Tanya Danneborg, and I love sex.  That sounds like a
twelve-step introduction, doesn't it?  But I don't plan to give
it up anytime soon.

I think you know my friends Pat and Julie; sweet sluts, both
of them.  If I started screwing women, I'd start with them.
But I like men, with their hard bodies and their suckling
mouths.  I like their hands rough and possessive on my tits,
and their pricks opening me and filling me, and the sweet
slimy sexy incredible high of male fucking.

Pat and Julie have this boy cousin, a skinny pale guy, sort
of nerdy really, but he likes sex at least as much as I do,
and he has a really incredible prick.  Long and thick and
veiny.  I like to feel it sliding inside me, an inch at a
time, while he squeezes my tits and licks my nipples.  I
lower my ass into his lap slowly, eating his cock with my
vagina, and it's like being split open.  God!  You don't mind
if I touch myself a little while we talk?  Can you smell
my pussy?

They have this other friend, well I know you know HIM.  Sweet
guy, with these big puppydog eyes.  Completely gone on Pat;
I think they're going to make a baby together sometime soon.
He loves Julie like a sister, except that they're constantly
fucking.  Well, whatever.  He took me once on the Phelps
Avenue bridge, stroking in and out of me from behind while
I held onto the railing for dear life and tried not to scream.
There was this beautiful woman doing herself on a rock down
below the bridge, and our eyes met just as we both came.  Now
that was a sexy day!  His prick is just normal-sized, but he's
very good with it.  Natural talent, Pat says.  He's mostly
straight, like me, so we're sort of natural allies in this
crowd of barroom doors.

But that's not really what I wanted to talk about.  I want to
tell a story.  Sex stories are funny!  I mean, what's sexier
than just sex?  "He kissed me hard on the mouth, and pressed
me down into the bed.  I moaned and spread my legs, rubbing
my cunt desparately against his thigh.  He took my tits in
his hands and licked me and squeezed me, and my pussy flowed
with juice.  Then he entered me, his cock pushing into me
sudden and deep, and I screamed, and he kissed me again and
pounded in and out of me until I came."  That's a sex story,
and a pretty nice one.  You don't mind if I take off the rest
of my clothes, do you?  My tits are really tired of this bra.

Ahh, that's nice!  Do you like them?  Do you like my body?
I try to keep in shape.  And the gym is a sexy place; all
that panting flesh and working muscle.

Anyway, how can you get sexier than that?  But you can, I know.
Some of the sexiest stories hardly have any sex in them at all.
I like a story that makes me wet and happy at the same time.
Pat tells good stories; sometimes when we're all together she'll
tell a story while her cousin and I fuck each other's brains
out on the rug.  Is it getting hot in here?  Would you mind
handing me that toy from the table?  I won't actually do myself
right now, because then I wouldn't be able to talk, but I like
to just run it up and down over the outside, and along my
belly.  Thanks!   Aaaahhhh...

Sorry, I'm not getting on with the story, am I?  Thanks for
being so patient.  Mmm, do you like that?  Me, too.

So let's tell a story that's sexier than just raw sex.  But
I think we'll have some raw sex, too.  Fucking.  (Nice to be
able to come right out and say it: "Fucking!")

I'm sitting here in the livingroom with a man, a tall mature
man with a broad chest, wearing a suit, a little grey at the
temples.  I'm just keeping him company while he waits for
Julie to get home.  He's an old friend of Julie's Dad, and
he's just stopped by to say Hi, but there was a mixup about
the time.  He doesn't have anywhere else to go, and he seems
to like me; his eyes wander to my tits while we're talking,
and he smiles when I walk over and sit down next to him on
the couch.  He has deep brown eyes.

We talk about Julie and Pat, and about our childhoods.  His
eyes on my body feel very nice, and I can see his prick getting
stiff in his pants.  I think it'd be nice to fuck him there,
on the couch, if he's willing.  Listening to him talk, I move
my face close to his, and lick my lips.  Slowly.  He smiles a
little wider, and kisses my mouth.  His arms go around me,
and he kisses me for a long time.  He doesn't seem really
nervous, or surprised.  He definitely knows what he's doing;
his tongue moves softly between my lips, not thrusting or
pushing, but my pussy is already wet, and I feel myself
moaning.  And he's hardly even touched me.

He stops kissing me and sits back a little on the couch.
He smiles, and we talk some more.  He doesn't mention sex,
and he doesn't say he likes my body, and he doesn't try
to kiss me again.  Eventually I put my hand on his lap,
where his prick is pulsing under the fabric, and I look
him in the eyes.

"Don't you want me?" I say.

His hand touches my waist and moves slowly up, hefts my
breast for a second through my bra, then his fingers close
in on my nipple.  He kisses my mouth again, and rubs his
fingers back and forth; my nipple gets hard, and my bottom
squirms around on the cushions.  Things happen to me when
I get hot: my heart pounds, my mouth opens, and my eyes
want to close.  My body feels like it's melting.  This man
is melting me expertly.  Now I'm lying back on the couch,
and his other hand is over my other nipple.  He's touching
me softly through my clothes, back and forth and back and
forth, and my chest is just on fire.

Then he stops.  I open my eyes, and he's sitting there,
rubbing the tips of his fingers with his thumbs, looking at
me.  I want him, of course; I want his hard experienced prick
buried in my pussy, and his mouth on mine again.  I reach
over and undo his pants.  He moves around a little on the
couch to make it easier for me, but he doesn't touch me.
I imagine his ass moving against his clothes.

His prick is nice and stiff, and when I squeeze it in my hand
he closes his eyes.  I wonder if his body melts like mine does.
My tits are aching in my bra, a hot lovely wound at the tip
of each one.  I move my fist up and down around his prick, and
a clear little tear comes out the end.  He gasps.

"Don't come yet," I say, squeezing him and loving the feel of
his prick-muscles quivering, "don't come yet; I want you to
fuck me."

I stand up, back a little away from him, and unbutton my
blouse, leaving it tucked into my skirt.  I reach up and
press the cups of my bra together, pushing my tits at him
for just a second, then I undo the clasp and let the cups
fall.  His prick stands in the air, sticking out of his
pants like a handle, a switch.  He draws me towards him with
just one hand on my hip, and buries his face between my tits.
He rubs them against his cheeks, rolling the nipples between
the ends of his fingers.  I moan, loudly, and start to melt
against him, toppling forward on the couch.  He untucks my
blouse from my skirt, and he strips me quickly and gently,
and his mouth sucks on my skin.  When he suckles at my
tits, I feel waves of wet heat start between my legs.

He lies me down on the couch and take off his pants.  Standing
over me, his prick in the air, he's like a statue, a wide
hairy statue, and I imagine his prick between my lips, the
head smooth and hot in my mouth.  But he lowers himself over
me, and I spread my legs apart for him.  He enters me,
quickly but gently, opening me with his prick, his body heavy
on mine.  But he's a gentleman, and he holds his weight up
off of me with his arms as we fuck, and I wrap my arms around
his shoulders and pull him down to crush him against my tits
and I rock my hips so his prick moves in and out where I want
it, against my clit, deep in my pussy.  Ooh, yes, I guess this
is just raw sex after all, isn't it?

Fuck, it feels good, his body on me, his mouth on mine again,
my lips around his tongue, my pussy squeezing and squeezing his
prick.  God, God, I want him ahhhh I want him to come inside me
his prick's getting so big OOOOHH I'm sorry I said I wouldn't
do this didn't I ahhh...  ahhhhhh AHHH!  oooohhh you don't mind
if I come, do you?  You AAAAH you can watch, and then maybe
we'll make up another oh OH! another story...

Aaahhhh, please AH! ahhhh kiss me...


My Friends the Allens -- Tanya Fills In
by Mark Aster