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From: "H. Jekyll" <h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Seat"  by  deirdre  (MF, D/s)  --  rp  by  H. Jekyll  and  Please Cain
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Date: Fri, 28 Apr 2006 22:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Seat 
by deirdre

(MF, D/s)

*****

NOTE: We are not the authors of this story. "deirdre" was the enigmatic
queen of Usenet sex stories in the mid-1990s. She posted 156 stories in
just over two years, using an anonymous remailer and apparently *never*
corresponding with anyone (though she did give permission to repost her
stories to non-commercial sites). She was last heard from in late April
1996. We will finish reposting all 156 stories this month.

While you're following the a.s.s.m. 10th Anniversary "deirdre-fest,"
enjoy! There's still time to contribute.

To contact us: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com, or PleaseCain@aol.com. 

*****

Seat 
- by deirdre, 12/17/94

Brad was right: we had been having sex less. Too much less. I don't
know what it was; after 14 years of marriage, we seemed to be falling
into more habits year after year that got in the way of intimacy. Brad
told me I'd always say I was tired and he got so discouraged being
turned down that he stopped asking.

I had to admit that he was right. It's funny because we'd had so much
sex when we first married--nothing outlandish, but wild enough, and at
the time I never would have guessed that we would ever go weeks or
months without. But yes, I'd discovered that I could live without much
sex, especially after working full time, then handling the kids and
supper. I promised him to try and do better. He made a suggestion: that
I vow to accept his offer twice over the coming week.

Yes, we did it twice in one week. Probably the first time in at least a
year aside from one weekend when we went on vacation without the kids.
And to be honest, I enjoyed it even though I wasn't really any less
tired than other weeks. Brad smiled at me the day after the second time
we did it and told me he was sure we could get things going again.

"Now you'll want me to make that vow for every week," I told him,
giggling.

"Not exactly," he replied. He had an odd expression and I watched his
face.

"OK, then what?"

"I have another idea: you up for another challenge?"

"I'd like to hear it first."

"Well, you used to initiate sex often enough. This coming week, why
don't you vow to *initiate* sex two times." Yes, I guess I had, though
that was so long ago I certainly couldn't remember the last time I'd
ever done that. I thought about it. It made me nervous to ask him like
that. I never told him, but once when I made an overture, *he* was
tired or something. I guess I probably never tried again after that
time, years ago. "Come on," he cajoled since I hadn't said anything.

"OK, I'll accept your challenge."

It certainly got me thinking about sex. Going to bed that night, there
I was, wondering whether he was expecting me to ask. Should I ask him
the first night? If I ask him the first two nights, it would seem like
I should ask him every night. If I didn't ask him, it would seem like I
was deliberately putting it off. My mind went round and round with such
silly reasoning. I guess my shyness won out and we went to sleep as if
it were any other night.

The next night I felt the pressure again. If I didn't do anything on
the second night, it would look suspicious. It was almost like there
was a script that I *had* to follow: skip the first night but
definitely the second. We lay down. He kissed me good night.

"Can you kiss me again?" I never ask him that. I suddenly felt he must
know already that I was making an overture and felt panicky. The lights
were out. He leaned over and kissed me again. We ended up lying on our
sides, facing each other, kissing. I don't know how long we kissed: it
must have been at least ten minutes. Finally, I wondered if he would do
any more. Did he want me to take the lead through everything? I wasn't
sure I could do it.

Then I felt his hands go over my body in a familiar way and knew he was
ready to take over. Soon he was fingering me and then he was in me.
Yes, I let go and enjoyed it, then lay there thinking about how nervous
I was before hand and how comfortable I felt afterwards.

Two nights later, I had all the same thoughts. But this time I
convinced myself I would definitely go through with it, and that helped
me worry less. We'd been laying a while and I knew Brad wasn't asleep
yet. It was time to start something. Something made me bold and I
grabbed his cock. Yes, I did it: reached right over, put my hand right
on it, and gently squeezed.

"Oh!" I heard him say, then he said nothing. I started squeezing
rhythmically, then wormed into his pajama pants and fondled him.
"Mmmm," I heard him vocalize. I proceeded to unsnap his pajamas and
started working his cock with both hands.

Then I pushed back the covers and straddled him. I was as ready as he
was and I had no trouble lowering myself onto him. I couldn't believe
the feeling, and I think I went crazy that night riding him.

So I was done, or so I thought. Now the problem was it seemed too much
like I was off the hook. I lay in bed with Brad feeling guilty that I'd
fulfilled my *duties* and Brad would know he could expect nothing more.
It was silly--silly of me, and I guess it was a silly plan, but a part
of me kept telling me I should do something one more time. Make sure
Brad knew it hadn't simply been my following through on a promise.

And I finally did, the seventh night! We went to a movie and I sat
there with Brad, my mind racing. I felt I had to do it again and it was
the last night. The movie was kind of sexy (and I'm sure Brad was
especially enjoying it) and the theater was just about deserted.
Something just came over me and I decided to do something really wild.
Brad was absorbed in the naked beauties on the screen. I glanced
around, then reached over and proceeded to unzip him! As soon as I had
him unzipped, I reached inside.

"Annie!" came his frenzied whisper as he pushed my hand away. He
glanced around. I went right back to his zipper as soon as he relaxed.

"Do you want to get me arrested like Peewee Herman?" he whispered to
me.

"No one's around; no one will see," I returned.

"Honey! After the movie, *please*!"

"As soon as it's over?" I asked.

"OK!"

I think I giggled, but relented and we watched the rest of the movie.
When we stepped outside I whispered in his ear: "Are you ready?"

"Yes!" he whispered back.

"OK, come," I returned and started pulling him. Away from the car--
toward the rear of the cineplex building.

He came along, but then whispered, "What are you up to now?"

"You said you were ready," I returned. We'd reached the back and I
found a dark corner that was away from any door. I reached for his belt
and started undoing it.

"Honey, are you crazy?" came his low but hurried voice.

"I guess so," I returned. I had his belt undone and was undoing his
pants and he grabbed my hands and held them. "You said as soon as the
movie is over," I pointed out. "Now you've got to see it through." He
stared down at me while holding my hands. It was dark and I couldn't
see his eyes, but I knew they were right on me. I didn't pull back at
all and he just held my hands for several seconds: twenty or thirty.
Then he let go and I immediately continued.

"Annie, let's go home." I think I laughed, but didn't answer as I
proceeded to pull his pants down. I had his underpants down a second
later and had my hand on his cock.

"This is *my* turn," I said, working it.

"Annie!"

"Aren't you enjoying this?"

"Uh, yes!"

"So stop complaining." He finally gave in and I continued to work his
cock as he stood there. I couldn't believe this was me, doing this. He
was definitely getting hard. "Kick off your shoes," I finally said. He
did it. I felt so funny telling him something like that and having him
do it. I continued to stroke his cock. 

"And your pants," I continued. He had nothing on between his shirt and
his socks. There must be a part of me that thrives on power because I
was really into this. I let go and backed up a little. "Stroke it," I
said.

"Annie!" he repeated himself.

"Come on, do it! Think of your Sirens." My eyes were used to the dark
and I saw his hand go on his cock. I quickly bent down and grabbed his
pants and underpants. Then I quickly walked away.

"Annie, are you crazy?" came his frenzied voice, still low. He followed
me a step, but thought better of it and stayed in the dark corner. I
kept walking, rolling his pants up and holding it under my arm to
obscure what it was. I found our car and put his pants in the trunk.
Then I drove it around back of the theater building and stopped right
in front of the dark corner where I knew he was. I turned off the
engine and lights and cracked the window. He came out and tried the
doors. I'd made sure they were all locked. "Annie, let me in!" he
finally said.

"Do it," I said through the crack.

"Annie!"

"Do you want to get in the car? Do it right now. Think about your
*Elle*."

"Please Annie!" I stared the engine and he banged on the window.
"Please Annie! You're crazy! OK, I'll do it!" I stopped the engine and
looked out at him. He retreated into the corner, then started
masturbating. I sat there watching him. He was sticking straight out
and it didn't take him long. Then he was at the window of the car
again.

"Shake it off," I said. He shook his cock. I reached back and unlocked
the back door. He quickly had the door open and was inside and had
closed the door.

"My pants?" he asked.

"Later," I said and started off.

"Annie, I can't believe you did this."

"Shh."

"Annie!"

"Shh. Later." After that he was quiet. I think he didn't know whether
to sit normally in the back seat or to try to get down on the floor.
Finally, he sat normally.

We reached our house. I thought about whether to leave the car in the
driveway or to put it in the garage. I guess I was enjoying the control
I had over Brad and didn't want it to end. But I didn't have the nerve
to do anything in front of the house so all I would be able to do there
was make him wait. So I opened the garage door and pulled in. Once in,
I shut off the engine and closed the garage door again with the remote.
No good ideas were coming to me as to what to do next.

Once the door was all the way down, Brad was over the front seat
quicker than I thought possible and he'd grabbed my keys. He was out
the passenger door and around the car to the driver's side and was
pulling me out. Next thing I knew, he had the back door open again and
was pushing me onto the back seat.

I was on my back. I felt my jeans being taken down, and my panties.
Then he was going down on me. I was so far gone it took me no time at
all. He didn't stop and I was coming again. I don't know how many times
I came and I can't imagine coming that quickly, over and over. And then
he was on top of me. And he was definitely hard again.

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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