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From: Nick <nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk>
Subject: Rosetta by Nick (M/F) 
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Rosetta by Nick

(Copyright: nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk Feb 1999)
Note that this story is provided free for entertainment. You may copy it and
distribute to friends but you may not make money from it or any part of it
without my agreement, nor must you claim it as your own. This story is
copyrighted to me (Nick) and I ask you to observe that. 

This story is of an adult nature, containing some sexually explicit scenes.
I do not intend either for me or the reader to break the law in any country
where it may be read, and so if for any reason the law of your country
forbids you from reading adult literature, do not read
any further.


Having completed number 310 of her series of reviews, Celeste hit the send
button and leaned back, with a sigh of satisfaction. In the old days she
had started reviewing internet erotica as an antidote to marking the
semi-literate essays of the children she taught. These were barely more
scholarly but at least the content was more interesting. Nowadays most of
what she read was reasonably accomplished literature, and she could relax
her teachers instinct to correct grammatical and spelling errors and
actually enjoy the subject matter far more.

The reviews were an open secret between her and her husband. He had married
a good Catholic girl whose virginal innocence he cherished. As a "man of
the world" he had introduced her to various carnal delights, and had found
himself quite charmed at how she had taken to his teaching, while at the
same time retaining her air of religious irreproachability. At some point
she had started to turn the tables and it was she who had begun to take the
initiative and actually to teach him a thing or two. He had, on several
occasions caught her exploring her own body and masturbating, sometimes
with the aid of sex toys, other times while reading a story in a magazine
or, more recently, downloaded from the Internet. When questioned about this
she had simply returned an enigmatic smile. It was the same when she
started her reviews. She never explicitly showed him the stories, though
that didn't stop him reading some of them, together with her comments. She
always avoided discussing them with him.

"Will you ever tire of these stories?" he asked her thoughtfully as she
sat, naked, astride his chest.

She laughed, edging forward. "Will you ever tire of this?" and he found his
mouth pressed into her crotch. The best way to avoid suffocation in these
situations was to use his tongue for all he was worth and so he worked it
expertly between her lips and slid it up and down her slit until she
suddenly broke free, breathing hard.

"No," he panted, regaining his equilibrium, "but that's a little different,
don't you think?"

"Mmmm, how so?" and she slid down his body, leaving a snail trail over his
chest and belly, until her face was above his.

"This is the actual experience. One never tires of that, but there is after
all, only a limited number of ways one can write about that experience."

She began to kiss him.

"Ever heard of plot?" and she carried on kissing him with little pecks on
the lips, "and character… an infinite variety really."

"Mmm - but you know the.. mm.. early stories… mmwah.. you wouldn't give…
mmm... those house room now, would you."

"Oh, I don't know," and she moved further down his body now, her pussy
seeking out his thrusting penis, "some of them have their charm, but it's
true…" and she manoeuvred her folds over his head, her voice becoming
strained, "stories I thought were great at the time pale in the light of
some of those coming down the track… Aaaah!" and with that she impaled
herself on him, her body writhing exotically.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his next question in order to ward
off his impending orgasm. Celeste could read his body like a book, and
pulled away just before he reached the point of no return.

"Oooh!" he moaned and lay back panting.

"So…" he fought to control his breathing, "so where does it all end? Do the
stories just keep getting better and better ad-infinitum, or…"

"You don't ever give up do you!" and with that she sat right back down on
him, so that his glistening penis penetrated deep inside her. This time
there was to be no mercy and she pumped away at him until she felt his
convulsing orgasm take control of any thought processes that might still be
lurking in his head.

"Hmm," she murmured, lying beside him now, running her fingers through his
hair as he slept. "The ultimate erotic story, eh?" and she rolled onto her
back staring at the ceiling.

The story to end all stories. Was such a thing possible? It would certainly
be quite something if it were, but how could a single story render all
others superfluous? It would have to connect with all her fantasies and
feelings, yet it would also perpetually need to introduce her to new ideas
so that she could come back to it again and again, each time reading it
afresh. It was true there were some books that did that for her, that she
never tired of re-reading, but so far most of the ASS erotica had
constituted a once only read. If she had read the story more than once it
was to remind herself of its content for reviewing purposes, or maybe on
rare occasions to re-kindle old pleasures.

As a young student she had learned of the Rosetta Stone. This was a tablet
which allowed scholars to translate ancient Egyptian texts and thus unlock
the secrets of the past. What if one of the ASS writers were now to present
her with a story which unlocked for her the romantic secrets of her soul -
an erotic Rosetta Stone.

She was drifting into semi-consciousness now as sleep drifted upon her, and
the idea swirled through her mind exaggerating the possibilities. At first,
it seemed quite an exciting thought, but slowly the darker aspects started
to creep in. She could become obsessed with the story, thinking only of
when she could come home and read it again, when she should have been
working, or anticipating when she could break free of her husbands
love-making to go to it. There were other worries too. What of those times
she had caught herself masturbating over a story she simply could never
admit to even enjoying? What, in short, if the story unleashed the demons
that she knew lurked deep within her, and ultimately destroyed her? No, her
'Rosetta Stone', may not be such a good thing after all.

Eventually she slept.

She awoke in the darkness bathed in sweat, her heart pounding. She had
dreamt that she was bound naked to a chair while the black-clad priests of
childhood held a story up in front of her. They were forcing her to read
the words, despite her attempts to turn away. She knew that she must hide
her arousal from them or they would torture her, and she knew that as soon
as she started reading she would not be able to. It was no use. Her eyes
were drawn to the page and as she read, the words had turned to fire in
front of her, burning her and consuming everything.

Stupid!

It was a dream nothing more. She turned over and tried to sleep, but
couldn't. The man she loved, the man who had planted those seeds of doubt
within her, snored contentedly beside her. She wanted to wake him and talk
to him, but she didn't really now what to say. Not that it mattered, he
would always be kind and understanding, she just didn't want to deprive him
of his beauty sleep.

She got up and went to fetch some water. As she passed the study she was
drawn by the blackness of the dead computer screen. It flashed into life,
as, on a whim, she went in and switched it on. She waited impatiently for
the boot process to finished and then checked her mail. There was one message:

"New Story to Review - 'Rosetta'"

With a trembling finger she hit the "download" button…

END

E-mail Nick@cassandra.demon.co.uk



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