From: juan <bunny@arh0261.urh.uiuc.edu> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: honey white (m/f beavis sax bass drums vocals) Date: Fri, 23 Feb 1996 11:49:53 -0600 Honey White "Uhhh... it says... For... tune... The... Fortune Teller!" "Yeah! Let's go in there and tell her our fortunes!" "No, dumb-ass, SHE tells US our fortunes." "Ah... What's that?" "It's like your future, or something." "Ah... What's that?" "Uh... I dunno... " Crap. I've seen this one about 20 times. This sucks. *sigh* Turning the TV off would be much more dramatic if I had a goddamn remote. Well, it's not quiet hours yet, I can still blast Ministry and see if I can further ruin the speakers. God, I hate living on an all-guys floor. But I can bother the nasty drunk fratboys and sore- girls with abrasive tuneage. Then maybe I'll play Morphine and Tori Amos just to freak them out. Assholes. I'm just in a pissed-off mood tonight, because I'm alone. Most of my friends went to Chicago this weekend, and those who didn't, bother the fuck out of me on a regular basis. Christ. Get lives. Like me, listening to Burning Inside and slamming myself against walls in a futile attempt to injure myself, while leaving eMpTyV on with no sound just to make sure i don't miss something good... Yeah... there's a viable occurrence. eMpTyV showing something good. Ah, the phone rings. Maybe it's Trent saying he'll give me studio time and a contract with Nothing Records. It isn't. "Hello?" "Hey juan?" "Yeah... " "This is Andi." "Oh, hey... What's up?" "Um... I'm downstairs... " "Oh. Um, well, do you want me to let you up?" "Yeah, sure." "Cool, I'll be right down." "Okay." Ummm... Okay... That was my friend Andi. I really don't know her that well, but she's very cute. She's like a friend of a friend, but she's a very sweet person, and I talk to her every once in a while. She's actually a lot more than cute, so I lied. And now she's downstairs. Alone (i presume). So I proceed to press stop on the CD, and run down in my socks (one orange, and one with little frogs on it) to open the door for this young lady, who happens to be confusing me at the moment. She's standing in the courtyard, she looks kind of cold. So, I guess I'll be a gentleman and open the door. "Hey, come in, you look freezing!" "Oh, no, I'm alright." "Yeah, I can tell. So, what caused you to drop by?" As we walk upstairs. "Uh, not much. I was sitting in my room alone, cause everyone's out of town, and my boyfriend had to go to a wedding, so I figured I'd come over to say hi. Is that okay?" "Oh, yeah... no problem at all... " Boyfriend. I hate that word. And I don't like the guy very much either. I mean, I've never met him, but he's too lucky to be alive. I mean Andi IS my friend, and I love her with all my heart, but MAN is she cute! She's not cute in the same blonde perfect-girl sorority-sister 90210 suburban way that most girls on campus are. I really don't like that type of girl. They're all the same. And they wear too much makeup and perfume. I love the way a woman looks and smells... Why cover it up, that's my question? So anyway, back to the current issue. Andi is this really cute brunette with shoulder-length hair that likes to get in her face. She has a very proportioned body, with big hips (yay!) and a butt that is perfectly round and very very nice. Oh, the wonders of the female body. I like jeans. She's wearing the perfect outfit. (well, close) A white T-shirt (yum!), jeans, and a light blue button-down shirt, open. Jeez, no wonder she was cold! I mean it IS spring, but this town is fucked UP. It's always cold here. So she follows me up one floor, down the hall, and into my room. (the one with the scanned-in printed-out picture of Bjork on the door) I mumble something about the mess, and kick my skateboard out of the way, grab some multicolored socks, toss them in the closet, put my guitar against the wall. Turn and smile. "Music?" "Sure... " "You pick." She walks to the right side of the room, by the 386. "These yours?" "Nope, those're Neil's." Neil's my roommate. We met in grade school. He rocks. We have pretty much the same taste in music, and women, which tends to be weird sometimes. But at least we can forlornly complain about the beauty of girls before we sleep. But he has bad taste in computers. He likes PC's, and I like Macs and NeXTs. "Umm... What's Morphine?" "A drug." She gives me a sarcastic smile. God, she has beautiful full lips... Kinda like Drew Barrymore lips, but better. "Also a really cool rock band with saxophones and slide bass, etc. They're really cool. Trust me." "Mind if we listen to this?" "Not at all. Here, i got it." The trembling saxophone of Honey White fills the room. "Are you okay? You seem kinda nervous." She looks up, smiles faintly. I'm about to come in my pants at this point. Well, technically, no. But my heart seems to be competing with the quick beat spilling out of the speakers above my head. Let's up the tempo, shall we? I really hate it when women have that effect on me. This next thing really confused me. She walks up to me, and places her chest lightly against mine, and looks into my eyes, expressionless. My mind screams at me, trying to get me to step back, but I refuse. I want to hold my ground. I want to see what happens next. My heart is really helter-skelter now. The sax whines and shrieks. I lick my lips. Her porcelain-white cheeks are flushed, now, and she looks so cute. I guess it's my move now. I always hated chess. *think* I put my hand on her hips. It's all downhill from there. She opens her mouth, and i can see her soft tongue resting on her shiny white teeth. She reaches up, an bites my lower lip, softly, pulling down a bit. I move my forehead down, resting it on hers. "You're a weirdo." Softly. I then stick out my tongue, and lick her teeth and upper lip. She smiles. "Yeah... but you like it." Through clenched teeth. She takes off my glasses, they go on the desk, puts her hands on my ribs. "I know." I slip my hands under her shirt, just above her waist, and one of them smoothes over her stomach to poke her belly button. She giggles, releasing my trapped lip, and rims the inside of my lips with her tongue, pressing her pelvis to me. By now she can tell i like it. She smells so nice. I move my other hand behind her, to her spinal column, and trace it up and down. She reaches up and kisses me, her warm lips so soft, her tongue running over mine. I press her to me, and return the kiss. We stand there for about a minute, making each other's mouths wet. I am breathing fast. We finally break. I hate to do this, this causes me more pain than shoving a pine-cone in my urethra, but I have to. My loins screamed 'NO,' but my heart is stronger. I have to. I force myself to say: "You have a boyfriend." Ouch. It hurt just to say that. She looks down. Bad sign. She puts her head on my chest. "Will you regret it?" "I'm worried YOU will. I don't want you to hurt someone you love. I don't want you to do something you'll regret." She kisses my neck. That's the last straw. That I can't resist. "I'll never regret it." I smile softly. I know I'm going to get hurt, I know I'll get attached, and I'll be miserable for the whole summer. I kiss her. Fuck it. She presses herself against me, and i move my hands up to her breasts. She takes in breath sharply, kisses me more vigorously. Oh boy. What am I doing? Who cares? Her nipples become more rigid, easier to find through her bra. I touch them softly, which is hard to do, because she's pressed against me. I feel around. Let's see... no hard plastic or metal at the back, I feel between her hot chest, and bingo! One of those bitch-hard clasps. Erm... She makes a little moaning noise. I like that. *snap* Yay! The halves of her bra slip around sideways, and her breasts are free. My hand probes around more, and she finally pushes me away. I'm worried for a second, but she begins to take her shirt off. I do the same to mine. My excitement below the belt is evident, but I do nothing. When she's done, she practically leaps at me. I guess she is excited as well. She lies down on the bed. "Wait up. That's Neil's bed. Go up, mine's the top bunk." "With the picture of Trent Reznor, and the dead babies." "The babies are H.R. Giger." We talk no more. I lie on her, and we kiss, move down, and I kiss her beautiful tummy, and put my tongue in her belly button. Her chest moves up and down with her breathing, and I can't resist. I move my tongue in a spiral around her nipple 'til I finally reach the center. She whimpers. I massage the other with my fingertips. She squeezes my shoulders and arches her back. Oh boy. I then began to suck on her nipples, lightly biting them, and running my tongue quickly over them, back and forth. She moans. I move up and kiss her neck, and mouth. Her mouth seems strangely cold after her chest. She puts her hand between her legs, and squeezes. There's a little dark spot there. I imagine she is quite turned-on. I reach down, and unbutton her pants. She lifts her beautiful rear off of the bed, and I take her pants to her ankles. Her panties are even more wet. I am uncontrollable by this point. I put my fingers in her waistband, and move them to the back, and front again. She squirms and whimpers. I pull them down, slowly. Her dark pubic hair beautifully rims her pink lips. Oh boy. I kiss up her inner thighs, from her knees up, until I reach my favorite part. She is going insane. I lick her a little, and use my fingers to pry apart her wet labia. I put my tongue round and round, and in her vagina a bit. She is practically screaming by now. I move down a bit to her other hole and play with that a bit. She sounds like she's in pain, but that was most likely not it. I put two of my fingers in her, and she moans... "Make love to me." I need no further encouragement, trust me. I remove my pants as quickly as possible, and I put myself inside of her, slowly, until I've filled her, and I'm resting my chest against hers again. She's breathing at a hundred miles an hour, and we kiss again. I move, faster and faster, in time to the sax, the drums, the slide bass, smoothly spilling over my spine, in time to my heart, beating faster, faster, knowing it's going to be broken, but beating all the faster for it. She curves her back upwards, and we go faster, faster, in time to the breathing, the clock on the wall, the flashing of the police lights on the window, now beaded with rain, and everything turns fuzzy colors, worlds swirl, and the low rumbling bass notes pound my brain. Sweat hangs in the air, along with other smells, familiar and alien at the same time. I forget about the past, the future, and lose myself in feelings, both physical and emotional... and soon, we lay next to each other, my cheek on her shoulder, looking across her breasts to the calendar on the wall, and the voice pours out of the speakers like honey... "I know it drives you crazy when I pretend you don't exist. When I like to lean in close, and run my hands against your lips... " And we lay together... and I can't help thinking about it now, as tears spill sideways over the bridge of my nose and onto her perfect shoulders, and she turns to me with a worried look on her beautiful face, her achingly beautiful face that I'll never forget, and I can't control it anymore, and I start to shake, as she puts her soft, warm arms around me, and I feel safe. I feel safe again, but I can't help it, I still can't help thinking about it...