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Subject: {ASSM} 'Connie, Dark & Mills' - Part 1 (MF watch, MF cheat)
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Date: Mon, 29 Nov 1999 23:10:02 -0500
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Connie, Dark & Mills (MF watch, MF cheat)
by drspin

PART 1 (of 2) - The Barn

(Bill speaks):

Those of us who are married or in long-term relationships have a common trigger.
It will be a piece of music, a particular song or perhaps a singer or a band
which or who evokes that special time when we met our partners. Corny but true.
Regrettably sentimental but undeniable. That's just the way it is. So when Dark
& Mills reformed after a nine-year break for a one-time-only nostalgic concert
tour of the country, then naturally Connie and I had to go. Compulsory, it was.
Dark & Mills. The memories came flooding back. Our singers. Our songs. Just a
couple of chords and we were flushed clean in love again.

Not that we'd ever been out of love in our 10 years together; rather, it was
just that thing about getting on with your lives and moving beyond that special
mushy time when every word, every move and every gesture seemed so unique. I
mean, you can fall in love like that but you can't live like it. Humdrum
happens, and it happens to us all.

It was an excellent concert, which was great because we'd had to drive 150 miles
to see it. The illusion that we were still young lovers lingered and we were
very ready to head back to our motel to consummate the event. But then I got
talking to a guy on the way out of the stadium and he was with a bunch of people
around our age and they were all heading off to a party on the edge of town at a
farmhouse and they were all Dark & Mills fans and there would be that sort of
music and it all sounded pretty appealing when he suggested we should go. I
looked at Connie and she looked doubtful for a moment but then she shrugged her
shoulders. We followed the convoy and went to the Dark & Mills party.

It was an excellent party. The music was our sort of music and the people our
sort of people. And because of that we stayed too long and I drank too much and
maybe Connie did too and that wasn't the worst of it. Joints were being passed
around and I hadn't had one in years and because of the way things were at the
party I smoked the stuff and Connie did too and next thing we were legless. No
excuses. Connie and I hadn't done that stuff in years because we were both
overly susceptible to it, and we knew that because of past experiences but we
did it anyway. Stupid. Half-drunk, totally zonked and very stupid. We weren't
the only ones. Somebody saw our plight and led us to a big barn and inside,
scattered about in the gloom, were various people asleep on straw or sitting
stupidly or curled up plain tired. We found a spot, settled down and drifted
away.

In the way that you do under those influences, you don't drop into a dead sleep.
You seem to doze a bit here and a bit there, and the rest of the time you lie
with your eyes open but unable to move a muscle. But I was hearing fine; well
enough to become gradually aware that over to my right and a bit behind me, two
people were involved in intercourse heavier than social. I couldn't turn my head
but I could see their legs out of the corner of my eye. Hers were bare, at least
to the knee, which was as far as I could see, and his had trousers bunched
around his ankles. They were getting stuck into it big time. It was of no
concern to me in my dreamy haze but it did keep me awake.

I was awake but barely so, drifting between dream and reality, sounds of passion
in my ears and the sight of writhing legs in the corner of my eye and thinking
nothing about anything when a man dropped to his hands and knees, crawled across
and stretched out beside us. Beside Connie, actually. She was curled up on her
side, facing me, and he was behind her. Close behind her, actually. I shifted my
eyes, which was all I could do, and saw how close he was. I think I tried to
form an opinion about this situation but I think I drifted off into a doze
again. I woke and it may have been seconds later or minutes later or maybe much
longer. The couple on the right had stopped doing it. No noise. On my left was
Connie, curled up and facing me, and behind her was the man. Connie's dress was
pushed up her legs and around her thighs. I could see her legs in the faint
light coming in through the barn door, and I could see a man's hand between her
thighs. Wait, it was his forearm, and her legs were apart a little and there was
no doubt about what he was doing.

Well, hell. That wasn't right. I tried to move but nothing happened. Not even a
muscle twitched. I might as well have been paralysed. Hell, I really was
paralysed. Like a paraplegic I watched the movement of his hand under my wife's
dress. No doubt about it. He was fingering her while she was drugged, drunk and
fast asleep. I looked at her face and I thought I saw her eyes flash in the
light as she blinked. No, maybe she wasn't asleep. Maybe she was awake while
being fingered by a complete stranger.

Well, hell. That wasn't right either. It wasn't like Connie at all. I mean, at
all. She had always been a relatively modest woman to the point of being shy
until you knew her really well. Connie was small in a neat and tidy way,
prettyish but not extravagantly so and she was certainly not a girl to draw
attention to herself. Some would describe her unsympathetically as mousy but I
liked her fine. And tonight, about one metre away, another man was liking her
fine too.

I watched as a detached observer, unable to muster strength or emotion. It
seemed not real, even when I saw the man put a hand on her shoulder and roll her
on to her back. She rolled acquiescently. He guided her without force. Her eyes
were open. I could see that clearly now. She was looking at the man looming
above and beside her. He was moving away from her, down the length of her
stretched-out body, and again his hands were moving under her bunched-up dress.
He was pulling her pants down her legs. I could see the lower half of her body
raised to allow it but I didn't know whether he did that or she helped. Her
pants came off, drawn over her feet. He dropped them aside on the straw. He
picked up her feet and spread them apart, moved slowly between her legs and
lifted the hem of her dress. Like a submarine submerging, his head disappeared.
It looked like her dress was trying to hide a football. Her eyes flickered and
her mouth was open. After not long at all she came to a silent orgasm. I knew it
because I knew her intimately. Her hand next to me scrabbled and clutched at
straw, her body went rigid and she lifted her head for a moment. Then she
relaxed. She turned her head and, for the first time, looked at me directly. But
she couldn't see me watching because my arm was across my forehead, putting my
eyes in deep shadow and I was watching through semi-closed eyes anyway. I felt
lifeless and I must have looked it.

Well, hell, it was all very peculiar. As far as I knew, and I would be amazed if
it were any different, Connie had not had any sort of relations with any man
since first we started going out 10 years ago. We were, she and I, a close unit.
Sure, the passion may have faded but we were as close as any couple in the
circumstances. I knew I ought to have done something. Or be doing something. But
I had no energy and, strangely, no emotion to motivate me. There had to be a
word to describe my situation and I searched for it. Yep. Passive. That's what I
was. 100 per cent passive. I knew not why.

The man had withdrawn and he was sitting back on his heels between her spread
legs. The dress was now pushed up high on her stomach and I could her white skin
and her  dark pubic vee. I couldn't see the guy clearly because his back was to
the light of the bonfire outside but he looked a bit younger than us, maybe
seven or eight years younger. He had short close-cropped hair but I couldn't see
his face at all. Connie was looking at him, though, and watching as he eased his
jeans down over his hips. Well, hell. Now he was going to fuck her and I didn't
have any doubt she was going to let him. His stiff cock waved in front of him. I
saw it silhouetted for a moment as he moved closer. He covered her body and
leaned his weight on his forearms, one of them right beside me. He was
penetrating her, slowly and quietly. I could tell because I saw her head go back
the way it does when I do it to her. Again she looked across at me and,
apparently assured, snaked her arms around his back, accepting him inside her.
He settled against her body and started to fuck her slowly, quietly and
rhythmically. They made barely a sound, apart from shifting the hay about. It
went on this way for a bit and I caught myself almost dozing again so I wasn't
sure how long. I blinked myself awake and he was hunched, no doubt shooting
inside her because there had never been sight of a condom. She didn't get off on
it this time which was not surprising because she rarely did that way. Pretty
soon he was backing away. He stood up and dressed himself, looking down at her
while she looked up at him. He bent down and picked up her pants, held them out
so she could see them for a moment and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He
stood for a few seconds more, looking at her with her legs spread and her dress
rucked up against her stomach, then turned and left, going outside the barn.
Connie sat up, smoothed down her dress, looked at me for a long moment and
settled back to lie beside me. Soon I slept.

In the morning we were thick-tongued and dull, barely able to talk. We found our
way to the car and set off for home. I needed coffee and food, so I stopped at a
service station café. We were reviving. Connie looked at me blearily across the
bench table. "When will we ever learn not to smoke dope?" she asked.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I was totally wasted."

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked.

"Tell me," I said, cutting short the long slow verbal dance that was beginning.
Connie was like that. She was never never never going to able to hold the secret
to herself for too long. "How come you're not wearing pants under that dress?
You were wearing them yesterday."

She stared at me across the lip of the coffee cup she had brought up to her
mouth. And she blushed. It started at her cheeks and spread to her neck and to
her upper chest, plainly visible. The cup remained near to her mouth. I could
almost see the questions and the options running through her brain. "Jesus," she
said, slowly and distinctly. "You saw."

"Everything," I said flatly.

"Jesus." She put the cup down in the saucer, clattering it. Her hands were
shaking and she was looking down at the table, not meeting my eyes. "Why didn't
you say something? Why didn't you stop it?"

"Because I was too stoned to do anything but watch. Why didn't you?"

"Ditto."

"Connie, I saw it all. You participated. Actively."

She was still looking at the table. "That was later," she muttered sheepishly.
"When it started I couldn't seem to stop it and then it got way too late to stop
anything." She fiddled with the cup. "All morning I've been trying to pretend it
was a dream. It's not much of an explanation, I know, but it's sort of
meaningless. I have no idea why it happened and no idea why I let it happen. It
just didn't seem real." She looked up at me suddenly, fearful. "Can you ever
forgive me?"

"Who was he? Anybody we know?"

"No. Nobody we know."

"Would you recognise him again?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know."

"Another question, Connie. Did you enjoy it?"

"I..." Her voice tailed off.

"Come on. Be honest."

She thought about it for a while. "It was different," she said.

"And therefore exciting?"

"I guess so. Yes."

"You came when he ate you out. I saw it."

"Yes."

"You had sex in public with a stranger. Anyone could have seen you."

"A man and a woman behind you sat up and watched."

"Did that turn you on?"

"God, yes."

"And what about having sex with a stranger while I was a metre away?"

"God. Yes, that too."

"So, do you regret it now?"

Again she took her time considering. "Yes and no," she said. "I'm being totally
honest. I didn't want it to happen and I didn't make it happen. But, my God, it
was completely thrilling. Even now I can't believe it happened. I've never done
anything remotely like it in my whole life. But it was a unique set of
circumstances, with the drink and the drugs and the setting and the fact that we
were in a strange place. I promise it will never happen again."

"No need to promise anything, Connie. It's okay."

She blinked in astonishment. "That's it? You forgive?"

"Sure. I forgave you last night. I understand what happened and how and why."

"That's...incredibly good of you."

"Nah. It's the most interesting thing that's happened to us in years. Yesterday
you were Connie. Now you're a woman sitting at the table with me wearing no
pants because a strange man took them from you. I'm seeing you in a new light,
and I find it...stimulating."

"You were turned on too?"

"Not last night. I was too wasted. But I am now."

She smiled slowly. "Yes," she said. "That is interesting."

"Anyway," I said, "I never managed to get you an anniversary present last week.
Let's say you've now had it."

Ends Part 1: Posting Part 2 (Connie's Encore) immediately

drspin@newsguy.com 

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