From zitterow@pacbell.net Fri Apr 11 18:55:07 1997 Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!sprint!cpk-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!news.bbnplanet.com!ais.net!uunet!in2.uu.net!206.153.200.163!midnight.postino.com!szdc2!szdc!news From: zitterow@pacbell.net Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: THEMENITE "Stories by DIEDRE" "Desire" www.nastystories.com Date: Fri, 11 Apr 1997 22:55:07 GMT Organization: None Lines: 343 Message-ID: <3355a916.6149688@snews.zippo.com> Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Newsreader: Forte Agent 1.0/32.390 ~Subject: *deirdre: Desire ~From: an65862@anon.penet.fi ~Date: Sun, 28 Jan 1996 06:20:18 UTC ~Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Desire Intro I have seven more new (as of January 1996) stories to offer: Desire, Hidden, Other, Plan, Stars, Trial, and Wait. I think my count is 149. I offer no labels this time: a preachy and slightly inaccurate FAQ Memo on the subject made me feel sufficiently contrary to refuse, so you'll just have to risk reading something you'd rather not. Or risk overlooking something you wouldn't want to miss. So what can I say about the stories? "Hidden" is my rewrite of a story that appeared here recently (note to readers: even if you don't like a story you read here, you might like the stories that it inspires), "Plan" is not a rewrite, but it was inspired by the theme of a story I read here, and "Stars" is, well, my own ode of sorts. I noted Celeste's post about stories needed for a web site. One way to get some of them is The BackDrop Club, which I believe allows you to retrieve stories via e-mail. The fine folks who run it deserve my gratitude: a couple of years ago when I was worried about how I might continue posting stories anonymously, they very kindly offered to post my new stories for me. And a note to Celeste who went on and on (and on) on the subject of bisexuality. The soc.bi FAQ Memo has a section addressing the question "Is everyone bisexual?" It rejects the notion, offering a definition of the word much like Celeste's, but that also allows the word to apply to anyone who *identifies themselves as bisexual*. That was the wonderful escape clause which I was attempting to invoke: I love it because it allows anyone to say they are bisexual! However, I'm inclined to think that even this more accommodating definition does not cover all cases of the word's usage: when someone says "Everyone is bisexual", I understand what they are saying. And I think people generally do, even if they don't agree with the sentiment. So if the definition(s) of "bisexual" precludes such a statement, then why is this sentence's meaning so clear? And a note to Kateri/MaryAnn: your public appeal for my address *almost* induce me to write to you directly, but I chickened out. I'm assuming you were about make a kind offer to allow me to participate in one of the projects you describe on your web page, and for that I thank you. Good luck with your projects and maybe another time I'll be braver. And now, deirdre's writing lesson on "how to effect prolificacy": (1) Save up at least two years of stories before you post any. Then once you start posting them, you seem like you're turning them out left and right. (2) There's no such thing as a mistake: post your worst story as well as your best. (3) It's best to have a short attention span: that prevents your stories from growing too long, thus you can turn out more. And it definitely saves you from dangerous distractions like novel-writing. (4) Once you think your reader knows what is going to happen, it's time to end the story. No point in actually meeting their expectations: you could be working on your next story. So you see, you too can be prolific. Happy writing! -- deirdre Disclaimer: my stories, like the private sex fantasies of many people, often depict "breaking some rules". Do not read this story if you believe fantasy stories should never depict situations undesirable in real life. Be warned that you may not be comfortable with the sexual situations. Do not read this story if you are less than 18 years of age. Permission granted to repost, to make available online, and to publish in low-cost CD-ROM archives of alt groups if attributed to deirdre. Permission granted to publish in periodicals and anthologies of this type of material if attributed to deirdre and an author's payment is sent to AIDS research in the name of deirdre. -- deirdre Desire by deirdre, 1/2/96 Oh, yes it felt good. I pulled on my knees until my rear was practically off the bed. I looked at Conner as much as I could, given my state. I managed to keep my eyes steady and watched his face as he slid in and out of me--it was so easy to tell he was overcome. Yes it's nice to be appreciated. And especially nice with your husband like that. All in all, a fine way to start the day. I have to admit I was feeling good that day and I'm hoping not many of my coworkers thought too much about my gratuitous smiles. In fact, knowing Conner was getting off work early, I knew I was just going to have to manage to get home early myself. I walked through the house to find it empty, spotted Conner in the back yard, and headed out to ambush him. But just before I reached the door, I noticed he was talking to Patricia. Our next door neighbor. I should have gone out anyway, but something in me made me stop. The devil inside me, no doubt: Patricia is certainly something to look at and I must admit that part of me didn't like her and Conner talking like that. I stood inside the door, watching. And watched her lead Conner into her own house! I *knew* it had to be innocent, but obviously the back of my mind wasn't going to sit still for *that*. Once again I yielded to temptation and quietly followed them to Patricia's back door. I stood at the door, finding I had a clear view of them and could hear them too. So I hid myself as best I could while continuing to watch. *What was I thinking*? Yes, it was stupid of me, but my worries were not without foundation, it turned out. They *weren't talking*. They should have been, but they were just standing there, looking at each other. No, it didn't quite make sense to me: they should either be conversing or, well, getting on with it--as it was, they just looked at each other strangely. "Come on, get with it," Patricia finally said. "No," was Conner's reply, uncharacteristically mumbled. Patricia started to laugh, but stopped abruptly. "You know you will." Conner didn't reply, but just stood there. I realized that he wasn't really meeting her eyes. "You'd better not keep him waiting. You *know* you like it." I could almost hear the smile in her voice even though I couldn't see her face that clearly. "No, please!" Conner's voice was low and pleading. I stayed hidden, confused. "Now! You *like* it." Nothing. Then: "Don't make him angry." Then it happened. Conner just started unbuckling his belt! In fact, he got completely undressed right there in front of her. It was strange because she just stood there, watching and he looked so embarrassed about it. I couldn't believe it was Conner I was watching doing this! "Good boy," I heard Patricia say with a slight giggle. Then Jim came downstairs! Conner was just standing there, naked as Jim came in the room. "You rarin' to go?" he asked, obviously to Conner. Conner still stood there, silent. Then Jim took hold of Conner by the neck and pushed him over to their table and leaned him over it! I couldn't believe the way Conner just let him do that: it just wasn't like him. Even if Jim was bigger than him, I couldn't imagine Conner letting anyone push him around like that. And there was Conner, leaning over the table, naked! Jim unzipped himself! "You ready, Darlin?" he said. Patricia walked over to the table right up to Jim. Suddenly she grabbed his head and pulled him into a kiss! She'd grabbed him by the hair! I realized as they continued to kiss that he was holding her hair too and he finally pulled her head away, still by the hair. As they separated, she still had her tongue out which she licked his lips with until she could no longer reach him. She giggled again, and said "Have fun," and they separated. Then she grabbed Conner by the hair and lifted his head. "You be a good boy and you'll get what *you* want," she said. She lowered his head again, then put her hand on the back of his neck for a second. They just stood there like that and she giggled again. Then she walked out through the front of the house. "OK, Darlin', you ready?" said Jim as soon as she was gone. Conner didn't make a sound, and suddenly Jim slapped his rear. The sound startled me. Then he was leaning over Conner's back, grabbing his hair, and talking almost into his ear: "I don't hear you." Then he was standing again, and he grabbed both Conner's hips with his hands. "I said: you ready?" "Yes," came Conner's voice. "You want this?" No answer. "We both know the answer's 'yes'." "Yes." Suddenly there was another slap, then Jim immediately shoved himself into Conner's rear! I could hardly believe my eyes: it was the last thing I ever expected of Conner. "What's your choice? Rough or easy?" Nothing. "Come on, I haven't got all day!" "Rough." There was something weakish about Conner's voice. It was so uncharacteristic. "That's my Darlin'. You'd better beg." As he said the last sentence, he grabbed Conner's hair again, lifting his head. "Start beggin'." "Please!" "Please do what?" "Please fuck me rough!" "You need that?" "Yes! Yes, fuck me!" Jim started moving. But he moved slowly. "I'm going to give it to you nice and slow at first, just because I want to." He slowly drew and pushed, over and over. "You like that, Darlin'?" "Yes!" "But you want it rough?" "Yes!" "I *like* to hear you beg." I slipped away quietly, not able to take it any more. Back in the house, I got something to drink and just sat there in the living room, the image still in my mind. Something was making me want to go back and watch some more, but something else kept me glued to that chair. I sat there for about ten minutes, then went out the front door, got back in my car and left. I returned to show up at my usual time, or perhaps a few minutes late. I looked at Conner. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He kissed me. He has a way. Though my mind was racing with its memories, everything was exactly right and I not only went through the motions, but felt everything I should with him. It seemed like a different man than the one I'd seen that afternoon. I was probably seeming a little distracted that evening, but amazingly enough, it didn't seem to be bothering me in any way that mattered to us. We did it that night. The next day was Saturday and I found myself weeding my garden in the back and there was Jim in their backyard. Conner was off somewhere. Jim was working for a while and then sat down, apparently just to sunbathe or something. He was in shorts with no shirt. I couldn't help glancing at him a few times-- those memories still stirred in my mind. He was definitely muscular, making Conner look ordinary by comparison. I glanced over again to find him standing right at the fence looking at me! "You checking me out?" he asked. "Uh, no!" "Now I *saw* those glances," he said and laughed a little. I didn't know what to say: I should have smiled brazenly or joked or something, but I just knelt there tongue-tied for three seconds too long. Suddenly he had vaulted over the fence and was coming my way. "You interested in me?" he asked. "No!" I replied. I started to stand. I backed up a step as he approached, but he came right up to a foot away from me. I had to look almost straight up to face him. "I think you are," he said. He had this smirk about him--as if he just knew I couldn't resist him or something. A part of me wanted to slap his face. I felt his hand on my chin--he was holding my chin! I backed off and headed for the house. I felt like a coward, but I just wanted to get away from him. But as I walked into the back door, he was coming in with me. I found myself in the kitchen, backed against the table, looking up at him again, though he wasn't so close as before. "You want me, don't you?" he said. "No!" "Yes you do. Admit it." It was time to refuse again--to insist. But I just stared at him. I detected just a slight smile on his face which he seemed to hide. "Say: 'yes'" he said. I still just stared at him. "Say 'yes'" he repeated, in a slightly vocal whisper. "Uh..." I *should be saying no*! I was so tongue tied. Then he smiled what looked like a satisfied smile and approached me. I stared up at him, still backed against the table. I should have moved sideways, away from there. Then he had my head in his hands. "Do you like it rough?" he asked. I still didn't answer. He put a finger on my lips and sort of played with them a second. Then he lifted me onto the table and pulled off my shorts. And my underpants. "Your choice: rough or easy? *Answer*!" "Rough!" He'd nearly screamed the last word at me and I answered before I'd thought! Suddenly I found myself face-down over the edge of the table. Then his cock pressed against my rear! I felt him press a little, but not hard. Then his voice was in my ear: "You'd better beg me." Nothing. I didn't answer. But he started pressing harder. I felt it, there, pressing. "Aren't you going to beg me?" Still just pressing, but not hard enough to enter me. I couldn't stand just lying there, him just pressing like that. "Please!" I said. "Please what?" "Please fuck my ass!" "Hard?" "Yes, yes, hard!" He pressed harder and I felt him enter. But he was still so slow. He slid into me. I realized that somehow he had to be lubricated--was he prepared for this? "*I* want to take it *slow* for a while," he said. He slipped into me slowly, then started to draw out slowly. Then in, then out, all ever-so-slowly. "Want more?" he whispered. "Yes!" "More what?" "Fuck me! Hard! Now, please!" "No," and he giggled softly, still going so slowly. Then I found myself reaching behind myself to grab his hips and pulling him hard into me, and making him do me faster. He laughed again, and started going fast himself: "That's my little neighbor-slut," he said, over and over again. I came. And came--I never would have though I could come from that. "Oh, you *definitely* like it," he said, obviously detecting my state. I felt him coming in me at the same time. Then he was out of me. He pulled me back up by the hair and then was whispering in my ear: "you *definitely* like it rough, don't you?" Suddenly my ass stung and I realized he'd slapped it, hard. He was out the door before I turned around. I cleaned up and showered before Conner returned. That night Conner and I lay in bed. I knew we were going to make love. Once again, somehow those other memories didn't affect how I felt about him. He'd kissed me. Yes, he can definitely kiss. He was lying on his side next to me, toying with my breasts, looking at them. I looked at his face. I was struck by a though and found myself talking before I knew it: "Ever wonder about Jim and Patricia?" I asked. "What." "Well, how they do it?" He didn't answer. "You think he does it rough with her?" "Jim and Patricia?" I could see his mind racing--he'd repeated their names just to stall for time. "Yes," I answered. "Yeah, they do it rough." I wondered if he were speculating. Something in me really wanted to know. "How do you know? Are you sure?" "Trust me. They *definitely* do it rough."