What the Sysop Read

by Rajah Dodger {rdodger@hotmail.com} (c) 1995, 2009

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons
Attribution-Non-Commercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License (by-nc-sa). In
jurisdictions where the Creative Commons license is not recognized, United
States copyright and Berne Convention provisions apply; all rights reserved to
Rajah Dodger except that electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights are
explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission
note must remain attached. 

Abstract: The operator of a computer bulletin board is very aroused by a story
written by one of her users 

The new computer was a present for herself. She had been a supervisor at the
company for two years, things were looking good, her last two reviews had been
glowing, and it was time for her to do something just for herself. She got a
system with plenty of disk space, the two fastest modems she could find, lots
of memory, and even a CD-ROM. The salesman thought she was going to use it for
work, but that was just her cover story. 

She was going to set up a BBS. She had done the club scene in this city, and
found it a dreary and unproductive way to meet people. When she was in college,
she had known a man who ran a board for people to talk to and meet others, and
that was what she would do now. After getting the system set up, she spent a
few weeks dialing around the city, looking at what the boards in town used in
the way of software. That done, she got her software, installed it, set up her
file and message areas, added a few games, and sent out notices on other boards
that she was "on-line and ready to party". 

Nothing happened for several days, although she did get several "I'll come
check you out" messages on the boards where she had advertised. 

Finally, one morning before she left for the office, she heard the modem tone
and went over to see what was happening. It was a new user logging in, one of
the men who had sent her an acknowledgement. She watched as he filled out the
new user questionnaire and said "Y" to the question about adult access. He
zipped over to the file section, glanced at the directory titles, went back to
the message section, scanned through the message areas, jumped over to the
games section, then went to the logout sequence, where he left a message
explaining that he couldn't use the board's call-back verifier because he was
dialing out through the office PBX, and there wasn't a direct number to call
his modem. He did, however, leave a number where he could be reached by voice
during the day. 

Later that morning, during a break in her office schedule, she called the
number. A man's voice answered, with the name he had given. She said, "Hi, this
is Miss Priss from the Eagle's Nest. I believe you called earlier...?" He
acknowledged the call, and gave her the correct answer when she asked for his
secondary password. They talked briefly about the board, what he did for work,
and the other boards he called locally. Finally, satisfied that this was a
serious user, she ended the call, telling him his account would be validated
later in the day. 

She validated him at lunch, dialing remote from her office and setting his
access for the adult sections. While she was on her modem, she called a few
more local boards, leaving announcements about her system, and joined an on
line adventure game on one of the more active multi line boards. 

That evening, after dinner, she went to check the board. She had 40 new users,
seven of whom had expressed an interest in the "Dark Side" section. Her caller
had already come and gone, with a logoff note that he had left a story for her.
Sure enough, there was a new file in the upload area called "TOSYS.TXT", with a
description that said "Thoughts for the sysop at night..." Intrigued, she
opened the file and began to read... 

 >>> The Story <<<

"Perhaps it was the daiquiris," Lena thinks as she wobbles to her feet.
Something had hit her from the evening out, and she wondered if she was up to
driving. Then Claude, who she had met that evening, sees her condition and
offers his services as a driver. "I can always catch a cab from your place back
to get my car," he proposes. Lena finds that reasonable, hands Claude her keys
and off they go to find her yellow Miata in the lot. He holds the door, and her
skirt rides up her leg as she slides onto the unfamiliar passenger seat. 

Claude drives the car with an easy familiarity, taking the turns of the highway
with relish and prompting her from time to time for directions. Somewhere along
the drive at a stoplight, his hand slips off the gearshift and onto her upper
leg. She giggles, and he gives her a friendly squeeze before the light changes
and they drive on. "Black looks nice on you," he comments. She looks at him,
confused... her dress is red, not black. When she looks down she realizes how
high her skirt has gotten, and fumbles with it finally leaving it perhaps an
inch lower. 

They finally arrive at her house, where Claude closes the garage doors and
opens the door for her. Lena leans on his arm for support and fumbles with the
keys until she can open the door and turn off the alarm. She excuses herself to
go to the bathroom, and he responds by asking where the phone is so he can call
a cab. In the bathroom, she rucks her skirt up, pulls her panties down, and
cups her head in her hands as her bladder empties. When her head feels steadier
she lifts it to see him standing casually in the open doorway watching her, an
enigmatic look on his face. "Let me help you with that," he says, and takes a
couple of tissues from the counter. Before she can get more than a splutter of
protest out, his hand is between her thighs, daubing, patting with quick sure
strokes. He drops the damp tissues into the toilet and flushes it, cool
backspray tickling her bottom. 

Lena sits stunned as he replaces his hand between her legs, his large thumb
brushing against her clit. "Not here..." she murmurs, but closes her eyes and
shudders as his middle finger slips between her labia, sliding up and down. Her
body is betraying her, those flaps swelling around his finger and making her
slippery for him. His thumb rolls knowingly up and over her clit, rolling it
against her body again and again until Lena comes to a quivering orgasm, hands
holding the toilet seat for balance as she clamps her legs around his hand. 

Dazed, she lets him slide her panties off over her shoes and help her up,
leading her to the bedroom. He helps her out of her dress, unzipping it and
letting it fall to the floor. Standing behind her, he cups her breasts through
her thin lacy bra while cupping her mound with his hand. She shudders,
surprised that she is coming again so soon. 

/END/