Message-ID: <2779eli$9708100041@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/2779.txt> From: taria29c@aol.com (Taria29c) Subject: RP Taria: Correspondence (#1/2) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <19970808203901.QAA20901@ladder01.news.aol.com> Over 18 only, please. CORRESPONDENCE by Taria ____________________________ September 1985 Dear Kathy, So, I miss you terribly and we'll always have High School and I'm sure we'll keep in touch and blah blah blah. Well to hell with that, I say. We have been friends for too long and been through too much together to screw it up now. And I say Im not gonna let that happen, even if you DID go all the hell away to Ohio and I stayed here in THE CITY, which youre gonna miss a whole lot really soon, I can tell you that. Well I can't afford to call you up all the time so I am gonna write you letters AND YOUD BETTER WRITE BACK OR ELSE you slut!!! So I moved into my dorm here in THE CITY (miss it yet? Do ya? Huh?), and I got all my stuff in with the help of Dad and The Brat without too much trouble. It's a "co-ed" dorm, with girls on the odd floors and guys on the even floors, and I haven't been here too long but I already hear that the rumors say that it's just a SEX PIT and that the most incredible stuff happens in the dorm. My new roomie Mary Margaret--she's a nice Catholic girl who's totally NOT like all those Bishop Freddy girls we saw rolling up their skirts and smoking on the bus--she says nobody would really DO stuff like that. It's a good thing she doesn't know about my sordid past and the stuff we did back in Junior Year, or else she might demand a new roommate or something. Like, the pits. So write back vite vite and remember "THINK OF ME--I know you want to Baby!" Brownie Bonus Points if you can name that tune!! oooxxx Love Forever, Tari PS. See? I still have the purple pen you gave me & everything! & I still sign my name with that little heart on the "i" I used to use on all those notes in Mister Brizzio's Chemistry Class. PPS. So what ya gonna do Fridy nite in O-HI-O? A little bit of cow tipping perhaps? Not like THE CITY is it, babe?!? PPPS. Write back, SLUT!!! ********************* January 1986 Dear Kathy, So I'm back after my first intersession and I found your letter waiting for me at the dorm. So I apologize for calling you a slut so often when you didn't write me back, and I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten all about your friends who care about you back here on the East Coast in your new midwestern cowtown Ohio life. So who is this Jack? What happened to Joey, who spent all of last semester pining away for you and coming to my dorm to whine about how would he ever live without Kathy and how much it cost to call Kathy and how devastated he was about Kathy (thats you) leaving 4ever? U R going to owe me for Joey Giardino, babe, BIG TIME. This is even worse than when you lost my Madonna Boy Toy belt in H.S. that night you were trashed and went swimming in the school pool after hours with Anthony Gianinni. What--you dont remember? How silly of me, thinking you might actually REMEMBER that nite what with all those Tequila shots. At least you could have gone SKINNY DIPPING like a nice normal trashed person and not with ALL YOUR CLOTHES ON, INCLUDING my belt. Tramp. So tell me more about Jack in your next letter, and dont leave out any of the juicy parts. I am in the middle of a very long dry stretch for me let me tell you, after I broke up with Jerry in the summer (just like in GREASE--it was so pathetic) and then I've been a lunatic maniac studying since I got here. And what with me rooming with the Virgin Mary--that's what everybody in the dorm calls Mary Margaret, the prissy Cath Schl Rmie--I think that my room is like the driest boringest room in the whole SEX PIT dorm. But I like MM--she's actually pretty funny when she loosens up and I think she's just kinda shy and got burned by a breakup in her HS. And she's so into Jesus, and that doesnt help either. I think she'll either end up a nun or a librarian. Sister Mary or Miss Mary. No boyfriend anywhere on the horizon, I'll tell you that. So only two (2) (deux) (duo) (zwei) letters a whole semester does not entirely remove you from slut status. Write more!!!! oooxxx Luv 4ever, Tari PS. No more little hearts over my "i". Thats kid stuff. PPS. Piling on work this sem. Core courses. Lit-Classics-Art. Yuk! ********************************* March 1987 My Dearest Katherine, O, how I have missed the tender sweetness of your caresses! Alas, how many days it has been since I last beheld the beauty of your visage, clasped your tiny white hand in mine own as we walked amongst the pretty blossoms, felt the softness of your touch! When again shall I rest my eyes upon the lovely firm roundness of your bosoms (sp?) and encircle you with my love, sprinkling your pretty little face with tiny gentle kisses? O, alas I burn, I dwindle in the loneliness of my barren desire! I am taking a class called The Era of Victorian Womanhood this sem. and what you read above is a sample of the stuff I heard last week, "The Eternal Privacy of the Victorian Woman." Doctor Lucinda Sorghi PHD has been teaching us all about the intimate friendships of young seminary girls and then women and it is all pretty steamy stuff, let me tell you. She says that intimacy was encouraged by men, cause even then guys did not want any part of foreplay they just left all that to the girls and their friends and then they took over for the humping at the end. Well that's not exactly what the teacher says, but that's my take on it. Everybody in the class (13 girls inc. me and 1 gay guy--or at least we're all pretty sure he is anyway) has taken to calling her Lesbian Lucinda or Lesbo Lucy or Sappho Sorghi since she got obsessed with all the intimate friendship stuff a few weeks ago. She might be--she has no wedding ring and she's a tough skinny old biddy. I can only imagine what the Virgin Mary would say to all this if she was in the class. Or you. I remember what you used to say about Cagney & Lacey, the old H.S. dykey dykes. Speaking of which, what's the deal with this Dychman House place you're moving into? Oops--I gotta go. I gotta blind date with this guy Mark to go see Peter Gabriel at the Garden. I hope he's not a total loser like the last one was. oooxxx Love, T. ***************************** May 1987 Dear Kathy, I mean Kate??!?!? So let me get this straight. You are now officially Kate, not Kathy (even though I have been calling you that for YEARS!), and you are a lesbian, excuse me Lesbian, and you are not shaving your pits any more because that is a tool of the Patriarchy that oppresses women. Or Wymyn. Well, Kate, I have seen you do quite a few bizarro things over the years but I think this one takes the cake. ARE YOU NUTS?!?!? This is the craziest thing you have EVER pulled, and I can't even imagine what your Mom is going to say when you tell her the news. It won't last long, I can tell you that already. It goes against everything you are all about. You'll never make it. I refer of course to your radical decision to stop shaving your pits. Why what did you THINK I meant? Did you think that I'm just some Reagan Republican conservative square from Back East that can't understand/respect the Queer Nation? Girlie, you have to remember that The City IS my Campus, and there is no way any O-HI-O Lezzie is going to give me the screaming blue meemies. Not that I am entirely sure that is what you are, since after all I have been with you through more boyfriends than I think you even remember, including The Rat, who if you recall actually had BOTH of us without ever telling each about the other. Frankly I think you are a little too fond of men to give them up cold turkey. Speaking of which, the old Kathy would really have enjoyed the Victorian Women class yesterday. Lesbian Lucy was late, and a bunch of us amused ourselves by naming as many different words as we could for the male equipment. We got through penis, prick, cock, johnson, peter, package, organ, dick, rod, staff, jade stalk (Chinese, we thought), hard-on, erection, and then all of a sudden Gary (the Gay Guy) chimed in with "purple-veined throbbing missile of LOVE" and made us all rolling-on-the-floor HYSTERICAL. At which moment of course who should walk in but the Fruity Professor, and we had to stifle everything and just snicker away the rest of class. It's not that I'm repulsed or intolerant or anything. I could even understand why you might be interested in trying it out to see if it might be like you wondered. Well, you know what I mean. But is this for real? I mean, were you ALWAYS interested in other girls, or only Ohio ones? Never mind. That's one of those "no-no" questions to ask people who Come Out. I was just curious. Anyways, good luck in your new consciousness-raised femynyst lifestyle, and I'm glad you don't have to get an operation or anything. Love, Taria PS. I know it doesn't exactly fit your anti-Patriarchal agenda or anything, but Mark & I did it for the first time last weekend, and he's not bad. I will say that in the absence of all of those "wymyn who truly understand your body because they have the same one themselves" I'll take M., who's got potential, enthusiasm, and quite a talented tongue. PPS. He has other talented aspects also, but because of your new sexual orientation I wouldn't want to offend you by mentioning them. Or it. You also might get JEALOUS!!!! ************************** September 1987 Dear Kathy, I am so MISERABLE! Mark and I just broke up and we had a really big fight and I called him a fucking PIG and he is and I am so angry at him but I miss him SOOOOOO much... ...and I'm sorry for writing so much (12 pages) but I think I'm going to be hurting in dreadful pain like this for a very long time. Maybe you were right when you decided to forget about men (PIGS) altogether. At least I will always have you. Love Forever, Tari ************************* February 1988 Dear Stranger, or was that Kathy, So I got your postcard from Cancun, you bitch. Months without any kind of contact whatsoever, and then I get a cheesy little "wish-you-were-here" from fucking CANCUN while I was here freezing my ass off between semesters working on my fucking thesis. You are not forgiven. Love and punches, T. PS. So I hear that you are down there with "Bobby." Would that be short for Roberta, or does this signify that you have fallen off the Wymyn Wagyn? How very un-Queer of you. PPS. Mark and I got back together in November, but I'm not giving you the satisfaction of an explanation. Bitch!!! ************************** October 1988 Dear Kath, So here I am, senior year, ready as anything to get the hell out of this Joint. I am sure that you feel the same way out in Cow Country. Same boring people, same boring classes, nothing new to do, see, or even contemplate. Sometimes I almost wish I took Mark up on his semi-serious proposal to move in together and leave the dorm, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I still like my independence too much to take that step. And I'd miss MM a lot I think, which actually surprises me. Yes, MM is still the Virgin Mary, despite three-plus years in the Old Sex Pit and the best effort of her roommate to hook her up. As a last-ditch effort we're taking a class together this sem., Witchcraft, Alchemy, and Mysticism. You would just LOVE the guy who teaches this one, I swear. His name is Dante Munoz, from Cuba, and he's Gorgeous. I think he's in his late 40s or 50s, he's thin and athletic-looking, not too tall, very distinguished silver hair (full head, no bald spots, I think he's really proud of that) and thin gold glasses. He dresses all in black, all the time--turtlenecks and black jeans usually, a hand-tooled black leather belt, and boots made from "Corinthian leather," I'm certain. Remember Ricardo Mantalban from Fantasy Island? That's how he sounds when he speaks, all soft voice and sort of laid-back but looking at you intensely. Really intensely. Like soul-baring intensely. The first time he comes into class he starts off with no introduction, just reading this passage about "tha Wee-tchess frrrrom Medieval Eurrrrope." He insists right away that we shall call him Dante, that the Mees-tee-cal is a dip and pheelosopheecal expee-ree-ance, and that we shall all come away from thees semestair with a greater appreciation for the spee-ree-tchwal world. I noticed immediately that MM next to me was just staring at him, with her mouth slightly open. After looking around I realized that almost all my classmates are female, and that at least half of them looked exactly like MM. Spellbound. Magnetized. Completely lustbound. I don't think there was a dry pair of panties in the entire front row of seats. I get the feeling that this guy could seduce every girl in the class if he wanted to. Me included, frankly. But I don't entirely trust him. He seems just a little too smooth, a little TOO seductive. I think he has practiced this a lot, and I think he has also seduced his share of undergraduates already. But MM is way under his spell, and he's all she talks about lately. Dante this and Dante that. She says she'll be doing an independent study paper with him too, and that he's really impressed with her ideas. I'm betting that's not all he's impressed with. Mark says hi and sends regards to you & Paul. I told him not to bet on having to say hi to Paul, but that I'd tell you anyway. So how bout it? Is Ol' Paulie "The One"? The smart money says no chance. Write back, slutburger. Love, T. ***************************** November 1988 Dear Kath, I am writing you this letter during the "Witchcraft" class, which I am cutting because I'm not sure I could handle being next to the VM (Mary Margaret) for an entire class without cracking up, blushing, staring at her the whole time, or having some other totally inappropriate reaction. Ditto for Dante la Grande, who is beginning to give me the creepy crawlies. I'm also writing now because the one thing I can definitely count on is that MM won't be coming back here all of a sudden and surprise me. To do that, she would have to cut short her time with Dante the Magnificent, and after last night I am pretty sure that ain't gonna happen in this lifetime. I have also had three wine coolers to loosen me up enough to actually write this down. Since you know about my (totally non-existent) tolerance for alcohol, you will understand that I am thus a bit swizzled. You may already have noticed how this has affected my handwritingggggg. So last night I got in really early. No particular reason. There were no parties, I have no real studying to do right now, and Mark's been too busy the past two weeks to pay much attention to me. Instead of staying up to watch Johnny Carson and Letterman again I decided to hit the sack early, maybe be really good the next morning and get up early to run or exercise or something. So around eight-thirty I jumped into an oversize T and sacked out. Something woke me up a little later, about midnight or so I figure, but I could be wrong--it may have even been later. It was MM, sneaking in later than she ever has in three years (usually I'M the one who does that), and she was SINGING. I mean, not singing, exactly, but sort of a tuneless off-key kind of humming that is totally unlike her. I was going to say something, maybe something snarky like she's said to me at times over the years, but I couldn't. It just seemed like interrupting, and there she was just floating around the room, casually dropping her purse and her jacket on the bean-bag chair, kicking off her shoes. I have no idea what she was humming--MM is a REALLY bad singer, if last night was any example--but she was really into it, totally cut off from the world, on cloud nine. I recognized the symptoms--I've been in love a few times myself, and I remember when Mark first did that to me--and I wanted to just get up and grab her and jump up and down giggling and squealing like we did after your first date with Joey. But I couldn't. It just seemed so private, like she was just so totally wrapped up in the intimacy of her evening, that interrupting her would spoil it. I was also more than a little embarrassed. I was lying on my side, facing toward her, and any movement at all would tell her I was awake and watching, and she might be totally mortified. I was frozen there, afraid to break her spell, afraid almost even to breathe and ruin the moment. So I watched her through mostly-closed eyes, sort of trying to go back to sleep, but not really. I figured she'd grab some stuff and hit the bathroom for a quick shower and pee and I could turn over, get a little more comfy, and wait for the rustle of her getting back into bed and the click of her shutting off the little lamp over the bed. Then maybe we'd both get to sleep, and she'd tell me all about it in the morning. (Concluded in #2/2) -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /