Message-ID: <11088eli$9805101409@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/11088.txt>
From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {SJR}JDR"The Adventures of Me and Martha Jane 13D"( bf mF mF+ )[49/52]
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <6j30aa$pq3$1@sparky.wolfe.net>
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas
that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
matters that you find distasteful. Caveat lector; you read at your own
risk.
These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked
the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a
comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories
itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way
to encourage them to continue entertaining you.
The copyright of this story belong to the author, and the fact of this
posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in
any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright
below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as
well.
This particular series is by Santo J. Romeo. That might even be his
real name. The version that I have copied used his initials, and I have
followed suit. It is more a tragic story of coming of age than simply a
sex story, and individual segments might not contain any sex. The entire
story, however, is a hot one.
========
**** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING ****
THIS DOCUMENT IS A SEXUALLY GRAPHIC STORY ABOUT AN INTENSE SEXUAL,
EMOTIONAL AND INTELLECTUAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A TEENAGE GIRL AND
A YOUNG BOY AND THE COURSE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP OVER A PERIOD OF
10 YEARS. IT IS A DRAMATIZATION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE AND THEIR CON-
FLICT WITH SOCIAL EXPECTATIONS. IF THIS SUBJECTS OFFENDS YOU OR IF
SEXUAL LANGUAGE UPSETS YOU, OR IF YOU DON'T WANT THIS MATERIAL SEEN
BY UNDER-18 OR OTHERWISE UNQUALIFIED PERSONS, DELETE THIS DOCUMENT.
THIS DOCUMENT IS COPYRIGHTED 1994, 1996 BY SJR. SO--HEY, YOU CAN
COPY IT BUT YOU CAN'T CHANGE IT OR SELL IT UNLESS I SAY SO.
====================================
THE ADVENTURES OF ME AND MARTHA JANE
by S.J.R.
sjr <73233.1411@CompuServe.COM>
============
PART 13D:
Saturday.
I slept like a corpse until Martha woke me up at nine and told me it
was time for Fiore's last session.
"Gimme a break," I moaned, hiding my head under the pillow.
"Now you sound like a New Yorker," Martha said. "Come on, get up."
Again, I worked desperately in the club. Again, Fiore grinned at
me. "You do well for only a week! Good! But don't undo it on the last
day. Slow down!" At the end of the session he gave me a firm handshake
that had my jowels bouncing. "You worked hard. Good, I like that! If
you come back, I give you a special price! Hah? Not becaue I like you
so much, but I am in love with Martha! You're in love with her, too,
hah? Only someone in love works that hard!"
"Fiore," I said, not answering but looking him straight in the eye,
"Thank you."
He laughed a hearty, knowing laugh. Then he held up his famous,
warning finger. "Watch your limits, my friend! And good luck!"
I took my time getting back to Martha's. Going out of my way, I
entered Central Park and broke into a jog. But I soon slowed to a tired
walk. One day. One more day. "Never try to go back," Fiore had said,
"Only ahead." He had said, "Watch your limits, my friend!" I heard his
words and recalled his instructions. I was tired and, for the time
being, at a stalemate. Torturing myself to surpass my limits at the
last minute wouldn't get me very far. I told myself I would have to be
careful. I couldn't push it. I couldn't push myself too hard. But
would I be able to avoid pushing Martha during the next twenty-four
hours? As I strolled I continued to observe and memorize. How long
would it take me to get back to New York? I was a day away from the
airport, and I was already thinking about how to get back to New York.
On my way upstairs I heard Ronnie's door open as I passed.
"Hey, you," she called behind me. I stopped and turned. She
beckoned me to her with a finger. She stood pursing her lips, her eyes
mildly accusing.
"Full of surprises, aren't you?" she said, one hand on her hip.
I grinned. "You don't have to say anything."
"Listen," she said, winking, "I owe you one."
I winked back. "You already gave me one."
"I give dividends," she said wryly. "Go on up there, Martha's waiting
for you." She winked one more time and went into her apartment, her lips
forming a noisy smooch as she closed the door.
Martha had constructed a huge salad for lunch. Having got out of bed
too late for breakfast, I ate at her dining room table until I felt I
wouldn't be able to walk. Martha was reticent. At one point the room
was so quiet that I only heard her chewing and swallowing. It was as
somber a meal as I'd ever had.
"So what do you want to do this afternoon?" she asked, not looking at
me. She prodded her salad listlessly with her fork.
"Right now? I want a nap." I stretched and groaned. "Fiore expect-
ed a full day's work, even on the last day." I yawned. "Wanna take a
nap with me?" I asked.
"You go ahead. I have so much to do to get ready for work again next
week. I won't have time all day tomorrow, half the day will be at La-
guardia to see you off," she said, pushing a cherry tomato across her
plate. "I wish you'd go straight back to doing what you want to do when
you get home."
"I was thinking about that."
"Don't think about it, Steven," she said solemnly. "Do it. You know
you want to. Don't..." She stopped and sighed and shoved the tomato in
her mouth.
"Don't?" I said.
She shook her head no. I was reminded of how she'd behaved during
our last few minutes together at the Holiday Inn, years ago, in Memphis.
"I won't preach," she said. "I do enough of that during the week
and with Ronnie. It doesn't do any good."
"Im not ignoring you. I listen to every word you say."
"I hope so," she said.
I rose and gave her a kiss and stretched again. "Okay, we can think
of something to do later. Anyway, I want to make that midnight trip to
the newsstand and get a Sunday Times, if we don't do anything else. But
I'm really pooped right now. You wore me out this week. You and Fiore.
And New York. And Ronnie." She didn't say anything, so I kissed her
cheek again. "It's been a wonderful week. Really. I'm not the same
person. You did a hell of a job with me, and I'm not forgetting anything
I saw or learned."
She gripped my hand. "Good, Steven. And I'm glad to hear you tell
me so, for a change. Hey, go take your nap so we can get around a little
tonight."
I got down to my undies and lay in bed. A strong breeze blew into
the bedroom and smelled faintly of the East River. I pulled the sheet
over me. In about half a minute I was asleep. I dreamed I was home.
I saw all the faces of my family, my parents, uncles, aunts, the Ricci's,
the Lobianco's. They smiled amiably, some of them lovingly. In the
dream I asked, "Who are you smiling at?" No one answered.
Then in the dream I heard Martha talking on the telephone. I opened
my eyes. The long shadows on the buildings outside the window told me it
was late in the afternoon. I rolled on my back and stretched. Martha
was still talking on the phone in the living room.
"Ronnie, I don't know, I already told you...But there's not enough
time, and you know how something like that...Yeah, right...I don't know,
it's...No, I don't...No, honey, don't. All right? Please?...That's
better...Okay, I'll call you later, maybe...Maybe...Later, Ron..."
Martha hung up. I heard her moving around in the living room. After
a minute she looked into the bedroom and saw I was awake. She sat on the
bed, unsmiling.
"Well?" she said.
"I guess I'll just lie here and look at you for a while."
She frowned and said, "Oh, you."
"Well, what's wrong with that? Why should I wear myself out on the
last day? I've run myself ragged all week. That's not what a vacation
is supposed to be. I have enough money for a camera. Why don't I buy a
cheap camera and take some pictures of Central Park?"
"You really like it there?"
"Sure. Might even have a hot dog. Fiore won't be watching."
She looked down at her hands and fiddled with a finger and then
sighed and shifted uncomfortably on the bed and then dropped her hands
and complained, "Oh, hon, why is this so hard to say?"
"I never knew you to have that much trouble saying what you wanted
to. I envy you. You're so much more outspoken than most people."
"No, hon, it's--" She gazed out the window with a look of painful
frustration. "Oh, I..." She sighed and looked down and confessed, "I
guess I don't want you to go."
I didn't say anything.
"Oh, baby, there was so much more I wanted to do. It seems we're
always parting, we're always doing something else, and yet I...even if I
did everything I wanted to do, you'd still have to go. And, anyway, I
can't do everything I wanted to. I don't want you going back to those
people. That's really what I don't want, I don't want you with them
anymore. I want you learning, and growing, and -- But I can't have it, I
can't keep you like a damn gerbil and I really ought to just leave you
be. I have no right to fill your head with wild ideas that you can't use
down there. I really want you on your own, being you, and..." She
stopped and winced. She squeezed her temples with her palms. "Oh, dman,
why can't I just say this? Damn!"
"I know what you're trying to say," I said frankly, getting up.
"Come on, I'll get dressed and we can see the Park."
"We've seen the park," she pouted.
"Come on. Can I get a camera somewhere, real cheap?"
"I guess so."
"Come on," I said, putting on my shirt. "I won't have you, or me,
sitting around here acting as if we were going to my funeral. I wanna
have fun with you. Come on. And you were the one who told *me* that *I*
couldn't do everything in the whole world!"
On East 86th Street I bought a cheap camera and some flashbulbs and
film. It was near sunset. I took a picture of her at the statue of Hans
Christian Anderson and she took one of me on Pilgrim Hill. She cheered
up, but not by much. Soon the sun was setting and we walked home. For
dinner we ate more of the salad. I took my day's third round of vita-
mins. Then the yeast. Then more yeast. Then a third spoonful.
"What in the world are you doing with all that yeast?"
"Fortifying myself," I said. I dipped into the jar for the fourth
time.
"Good heavens," Martha breathed.
I felt good. I was rested. I was drunk with desire for Martha. I
was, secretly, desperate for her. If this was to be our last night for
an undetermined length of time, I wanted to make it the most memorable of
the week.
"It's dark outside," I said. "Let's make it dark in here." She sat
at the table watching as I went through the apartment closing all the
curtains and turning off all the lights. She soon got the idea and sat
with a coy smile until I finished. The apartment was inky dark. I felt
my way through the black, toward her. I heard her clothes rustling. By
the time I reached her she had removed all but her panties and bra. I
embraced her and kissed her hair and then her temples and reached behind
her to undo the bra. It fell from her shoulders with a whisper. I
breathed, "Here, in the dark. Let's take our time. We have all night.
You feel so good. Did I ever tell you how good you feel?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Tell me again."
I told her as she helped me undress. I told her, standing and
caressing her lightly, running my fingers over her nipples and around
her waist and along her hips and across her delightful, warm, flexing
tush. After a moment she knelt down and began softly tonguing and
mouthing my cock in the dark.
I whispered, "Don't make me cum yet."
"Okay," I heard her say.
"I don't want to cum for a long time."
"Okay," she whispered. All I could hear or see or feel was her mouth
on me. When I was hard and twitching, which didn't take long, she rose
and led me by the hand into the bedroom. We both bumped into things and
sniggered and then slid into bed together. Martha leaned over me and
gave my nipples inner-lip kisses. It went on for a long time. We ca-
ressed each other and whispered, our words growing more sensual and
arousing. We slid on and off each other lazily.
"Does that feel good?" she asked, running a fingernail along my balls.
"Yeah. Does that?" I asked, running my fingernail along the crease
of her still warm, moist derriere until I reached under her and felt wet
flesh.
"Ah, yes."
She moved up on me and kissed my neck, and I said "Mmm," and enjoyed
her doing it, and she licked my earlobes. She whispered into my ear, "I
want more."
"You'll get more, don't worry."
"Steven...you've made me very hot."
"Good."
"No, it's different, it's...I need more."
"Mm. Let's see what naughty things can I think of?"
"You wanna be naughty?"
"Yes."
"Really naughty, Steven?"
"Yes."
"Steven..." She licked my other earlobe.
"Yes?"
She paused and licked again. "I told Ronnie today not to come over.
I wanted you all to myself."
"You'll have plenty on your hands, don't worry."
"Steven."
"Yes?"
"Was it good with her?"
I didn't answer for a second and said, "You saw me, didn't you?"
"But it felt good, didn't it? I mean, different? Good different?"
"Yes."
"Steven...hon...I was very excited that night."
"I was too."
"Were you?"
"Yes."
"Mmm. Ah, your dick is wet. It got wet talking about it, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"Wait," she whispered. "Don't move. I'll be back."
I lay with my cock twitching in the dark while she fumbled her way
into the living room. I heard her dial a number and then she was talking
on the phone briefly. I heard her hang up. She felt her way along the
walls into the room again. She lay down and leaned over me. She whis-
pered, shakily, fearfully, "Hon. Ronnie's coming up. She'll be here in
a minute. If it's not all right, tell me now. I'm sorry, I feel...Oh,
Steven, it's scary, I feel so wicked. Stop me while it's still time to
call her back."
I could barely see her face in the dark. "So call her back if you
want to."
"I don't want to. Do you want me to?"
I waited. "No," I whispered.
I heard her breathing nervously. She wiped her mouth and when she
whispered again her mouth sounded dry. "Why am I so scared? It's not as
if we never did anything before. Steven, I haven't been like this in so
long...and only with you."
"All right. If you want me to, I'll call her. What's her number?"
"No."
"You don't want me to?"
"Hold me, hon. Please hold me."
I put my arms around her and she lay on me fully and held my face in
her hands and suddenly gave me a long, deep, loving, searching kiss. The
kiss went on and on and she wouldn't interrupt, breathing through her
nose, her lips constantly mashing mine. A little later, the front door
opened and clicked shut. I heard Ronnie whisper, "Martha? Steven? God,
it's so dark in here." Martha ended the kiss and whispered loudly,
"Ronnie. In the bedroom." Ronnie said okay, and Martha slid down my
body and started licking my legs and balls.
Ronnie knocked something over in the living room. It fell to the
floor, sounding like a big book. "Sorry," Ronnie said. "Leave it to me,
right?" Soon she appeared in the doorway, feeling her way along the wall
and then past the door, saying, "It's a good thing this apartment is
exactly like mine. It's so dark in here."
"Wait," Martha said. She got out of bed and gave me a beautifully
vague view of her rear as she hurriedly slid past Ronnie into the living
room. Ronnie peered into the bedroom from the doorway. She appeared to
be wearing a blanket or a bathrobe. "Steven?" she asked, moving into the
room. "What the hell is Martha doing?", and I answered, "I don't know."
Ronnie felt along the wall until she was in front of the bed and then I
felt her hand patting the foot of the bed, and she touched my foot.
"Oh!" she exclaimed softly, and laughed gently. "That's you, right?"
"My foot," I answered.
"This is crazy," she said, but she sounded as if she were smiling.
"Yeah, I'm starting to get used to the dark." Her hand slithered up my
leg. "God, I can't get used to how warm you are. What the hell are you
two doing in the dark like this?"
"Planning a new deterrent against the Soviet Union."
"Ooooh," she said. "I do a little of that in my spare time, myself.
How far along did you get?" Her hand found my cock and closed around
it. "Hmm. I see I didn't get here too late. Or just in time?" Her
hand squeezed and rode up and down.
"Careful," I said, loudly.
"Okay. Sorry." She removed her hand and stood up. She called,
"Martha?"
In the living room, I heard the sound of a match flaring, and then
the dim glow from a candle trickled into the room. Ronnie stood at the
foot of the bed in a fluffy terrycloth bathrobe, smiling at me. She
looked down and saw my cock standing straight up and her smile widened.
"Oh," she said. "There you are." She slipped the bathrobe from her
shoulders and let it slide to the floor. In the near-dark her small,
slim torso and her long legs and arms and small tits were outlined
faintly in yellow. The candlight danced and flickered on her soft
flesh. The whole scene was dreamlike, unearthly. I lay in a fog of
uncertainty, swallowing as a wave of weird, undefinable sensations swept
over me.
"Martha told me earlier she wanted you all to herself." She put one
knee on the bed and leaned toward me. She gave me a small, amiable
smile, her dark eyes glinting with two tiny, fiery dots of light. "But I
insisted. I still owe you one."
Martha came into the room and slid into bed beside me. She sat up on
her legs. Her face was calm, unsmiling, composed. But her eyes had a
darkly eerie intensity. I turned to her and she leaned down and kissed me
softly. "Do you still want to?" she whispered.
I kissed her back. "For you."
She whispered, "For you, hon. Us. Three of us."
I heard Ronnie whisper, "You two are so romantic with each other."
I asked Martha, "Still scared?"
She swallowed. "A little."
Ronnie said, her hand sliding up my leg. "Your darkness, Martha.
Remember? It's your darkness. You're always so scared of it."
"I know," Martha said uneasily. Her lips touched mine briefly and
left a tiny string of moisture between us. "But Steven's not afraid of
his. At least, I don't think so. He's the one who turned out the
lights."
"Steven," Ronnie said, settling on the bed with one thigh over my
legs. Her wet cunt was on my knee. "You're so full of surprises. Hmm,
is there no end to it?" Her lips touched my thigh and then slid wetly
across the head of my cock. I kissed Martha again. She held my face and
kissed me back, and then looked at me with the same unsmiling face and
then her eyes seemed to simmer with a soft heat. "Don't let him cum,
Ronnie." Then she looked back at me.
She whispered almost inaudibly, her voice urging me with an other-
worldly intensity that I had never heard in her, "Fuck Ronnie, Steven."
Ronnie had condoms in the bathrobe pocket. She looked up at me as I
lay between her raised knees and she smiled mischievously as she unrolled
the condom onto my waiting cock and then aimed me into her. Her smile
melted into a steady gaze as I slowly fucked her. She said it was nice
to look into the eyes of someone fucking her so gently. "Intense," she
breathed, "So intense." As my finger did on Wednesday, my cock found
Ronnie narrower than Martha, but deeper, and the dulling condom had me
wondering how it really felt inside her. The condom slowed me down;
there was just enough sensation to keep me hard in Ronnie. She said I
was just the right size and shape and that I felt very comfortable in
her. I had difficulty contacting her clit because she had her legs
around me and she kept moving too much under me. Soon I felt I might
cum, so I left her and rested for a minute and then Martha was ready.
Martha refused to use a condom, so I removed it and entered her without
one. Ronnie said she didn't know how Martha could chance it without
protection, and Martha said it was a safe time of the month and she had
additional means for later, and Ronnie scoffed and said, "God, Martha I
can't trust the papal method." To Ronnie's amazement, Martha came almost
immediately, and loudly, and I had to move very slowly to hold myself
back, but I knew I couldn't resist much longer. Ronnie said she never
saw a man ejaculate, so Martha asked me to pull out so that Ronnie could
finish me with her hand. I sat up on my legs and Ronnie sat in front of
me jacking me off gingerly. I squirted high onto her forearm and Ronnie
looked at it and breathed an amazed "Oh," and then she squealed
delightedly as I squirted on her shoulder and then on her left nipple,
and then she slowed her pumping and chuckled, pleased, as cum splatteed
onto her forearm and then twice onto her wrist, and then she crooned a
motherly, "yeah, honey" and watched my eyes as the rest of it sobbed out
warmly over her hand.
While we rested Ronnie asked Martha how it felt to cum during
intercourse, and Martha tried to describe it but couldn't. They both
stroked and sucked me until I was ready again, which took longer than I
expected, considering how heated I was, and Ronnie put another condom on
me, saying, "Warning, folks. I don't know how you're gonna make me cum,
Steven, I don't have the slightest idea what to do." Martha and I
prompted her, telling her not to raise her legs over me but to learn how
to angle her pelvis so that my cock could find her clit with the rubber
on, and after a while I found ways to sense her needs and she smiled up
at me in surprise and muttered, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I see now. Oh, I
*feel* it! Oh, keep doing that! God, it's so good, it's right on it!"
Martha asked if Ronnie were comfortable and Ronnie was quickly growing
agitated and she gasped, "Who cares if I'm comfortable, it works! God,
it's good!" She watched me going in and out and looked up at me and I
whispered, "Feel it now?" and she leered and whispered "Yes," and I asked
her "Just like that?" and she whispered "Yes" and she watched my eyes and
in the same secretive whisper she asked me, "Feel the darkness? Feel the
darkness, sweetheart?" and I moaned "Yes," and her blue eyes glowed with
a deep, dark, moist blue and she smelled humidly like sage and she
whispered, "Me, too. So good. So sweet good," and Martha gazed at me
from beside Ronnie's face and she held my cheek and smiled lovingly and
said "Devils are dancing in your eyes, Steven," and soon Ronnie's eyes
closed and she whispered dreamily, happily, "I'm a little girl...I'm a
small...soft...wet...fucking little girl, and my darkness and Steven's
darkness are fucking. It's so good, Martha. Oh it's so good," and
she ground her cunt on my cock and I fucked her deeply and methodically
for several minutes, and then I slowed as she gasped and trembled and
winced, and she came loudly, her slim hips yearning off the bed and her
pelvis quivering against me. When it was over she breathed, "Jesus!" and
I held her for a while and then Martha kissed me. And I wanted Martha. I
had fucked soft, slender Ronnie with a pure and strangely gentle lust.
But I needed Martha's love and passion and raw intensity. I entered
Martha without the rubber. Uncontrollably we whispered obscenities while
we screwed and Ronnie gaped at us and then caught on and lay with her
face close to Martha's, whispering the same words and phrases in Martha's
ear as Martha started cumming, and Martha came wildly, gritting her teeth
and laughing "Yes!". My cock was so hard I wondered if it would fall off
if it got any bigger, and Ronnie asked, "Wanna cum in me?" and she got
another condom onto me and I fucked her hungrily with her knees raised
and her legs spread the way she liked it. But I couldn't finish with the
rubber, so Martha lay back and rolled me onto her and removed the rubber
and put me inside her. She told Ronnie as my pumping became arduously
slow and deliberate, "He's close, Ronnie, he's close," and Ronnie asked
her how she knew and Martha grit her teeth as she watched me straining
into her and told Ronnie "I know, that's all," and she told Ronnie to put
her fingers on the muscles under my balls. Martha said, "Do it, Ronnie,
hurry! He's so close!" I felt Ronnie's fingers searching under my
scrotum and then she pressed and found the knot of muscle and I started
squirting and heard Ronnie gasp, "God, Martha, yeah," and Martha grinned
at me and her eyes were flaming and strange and crazed and her cunt
squeezed and she asked with a greedy smile, "Good?" and I gasped
breathlessly, "Fuck," and I came with Ronnie's fingers under my balls and
her lips kissing my left buttock and I growled "Fuck" into Martha's wild
gaze, and I came for such a long time that Martha's eyes on mine turned
into a blind stare and she whispered "I'm cummin' again--oh I'm...oh,
hon!" and then her eyes closed and her cunt contracted. I finished, but
kept moving until she finished as well.
We rested again and got into a long, poetic, whispering session with
Ronnie about her drawings of darkness. As Martha dozed off, Ronnie and I
continued talking about her drawings while I fingered her until she came
again. "Another first," she sighed, her hips nodding as she finished.
Soon we were all asleep. I awoke in the dim light and saw Ronnie getting
dressed. She smiled at me and gave me a little kiss. Then she looked at
me and put a palm against my cheek and said, "That was good. That was
good and dark and wonderful. I want to leave Martha alone with you. She
loves you, Steven. You know that, don't you? So do I, now." She gave me
a long, deep kiss, her tongue lathering mine, and then she crept out of
the apartment. Martha slept. I lay on my back with my arm cradling her
head and fell asleep again.
====================================
THE ADVENTURES OF ME AND MARTHA JANE
by S.J.R.
PART 13D:
-30-
--
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>