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Subject: {ASSM} Sunday (md mf anal fd mc)
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Date: Mon, 22 Mar 2010 21:10:01 -0400
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Sunday (md mf anal fd mc)

A street, vacant, Sunday morning. I'm across from a huge stone church. 
The sun is shining, it's warm, early autumn. A woman dressed all in 
white is coming down the street toward the church. Her dress is tight to 
her body, one of those civilized but sexy dresses that reaches to mid 
calf. High heels, shiny white. Small white hat on her hair, up. Netting, 
not obtrusive. She's thin, not skinny, sort of tall. Moving fast. Maybe 
she's late. Hard to say for what. It's so quiet. There are no cars, not 
even in the parking lot. She stops, near the front of the church. She 
stands there looking around, no longer in a hurry. I'm looking at her 
shiny shoes. She fidgets, shuffling slightly. A big drop of blood 
splashes on the ground next to her shoes splattering them, followed 
quickly by another and another. I look at her face. The blood is coming 
from her nose.

I start fishing through my pockets for a tissue. She's just standing 
there bleeding, not too happy, and she doesn't seem to know what to do. 
Me neither. I couldn't find a tissue. I think about offering her my 
shirt. Eewww.

"You could squeeze the sides of your nose. I get them all the time. 
It'll stop after a while if you stop the bleeding."

She looks at me angry and disgusted. I was afraid of that. Glad I didn't 
offer my shirt. Can't think of anything to do, but walk away. I don't 
want to just leave her there.

The blood around the base of her nose bulges from the useless clot 
forming. The blood pours as fast as ever. Her shoes are getting nasty.

Her worried look has me thinking we should go somewhere. Doesn't appear 
the church is open. Likely no place around here is unlocked.

I try the front doors, definitely locked. No point hammering on them. 
I'm not sure how breaking in would be an option. The place is a 
fortress.

The hospital is a hell of a long walk. If she doesn't stop bleeding I 
doubt we'd get that far. She came from someplace..

"You live near here? We need to get you someplace you can lie down, get 
cleaned up, ... get some towels?" (call an ambulance?)..

The angry disgusted look shuts me up again. She won't talk to me. She 
won't hold her nose. Apparently we're not going back where she came 
from. I sit down on the curb holding my head.

An engine, far off, rouses me from zoning. Maybe there's hope. A white 
pickup rounds the corner coming towards us.

I get up to flag him down, but he's already pulling over, in front of 
her. He's shirtless, ruddy, hairy chested. Shotgun in the gun rack. Mean 
looking. He doesn't look at me, he looks at her. She walks around the 
front and opens the door. He pushes a big white fluffy towel at her. She 
buries her face in it, gets in. They pull away, disappearing down the 
street.

It's quiet, no breeze, no birds. I look at the blood puddle drying in 
the sun, thick, dark, almost perfectly round. A faint halo of dried 
splatters around it, and foot prints. I walk back across the street.

Later, the engine, far off coming back. When he gets across from me he 
stops. I see the black holes at the ends of the shotgun barrels. I'm 
petrified. Too late to jump, run, or whatever. He shoots me. It hits me 
hard. I am too stunned to breath.

He leaps out of the truck, yanks me up, drags me to the truck, tosses me 
into the bed. We go down the street and turn. Eventually we're on a dirt 
road in the country, not the smoothest ride for an injured man. We stop 
at a two story white clapboard house, steep roof, distressed paint. 
Nothing around it but the stubble of recently harvested wheat out to the 
horizons.

He drags me from the truck bed into the house, into the front room, and 
drops me on the floor. I lie there in a daze. She comes in, naked. 
Without the fancy clothes, she is a treat. Creamy soft tits jiggle as 
she walks toward me, her dark hair flowing down her back. No blood, no 
scars either, seems surprising for her being with this brute. Delicate 
face, she stares at me with dark eyes.

I don't think she's concerned about my well being. Brutus kneels down, 
rips open my shirt, looks around on my chest, then gets up and goes to 
the kitchen. I guess I'm going to live. I don't hear the tell tale 
whistling of leaks in my plural cavity. I can breath. It must have been 
that bird shot designed not to mess up your meat. It hurts. My stunned 
numbness has faded.

He brings in a beer and lowers himself into a weathered overstuffed 
chair in the corner. He downs the beer.

She walks over to him, turns around, bends over, spreads her cheeks.

He stands up. Lowers his pants enough to pull out his cock.

She turns around without raising up. She puts her mouth around his cock, 
her lips not tight.

He slowly pushes all the way in. Then he pulls out half way and starts 
ramming her face.

She's making wet choking noises but doesn't flinch.

After a while he pulls out, flips her around, pokes her in the ass. He's 
got his fingers hooked at the junctures of her thighs and torso, and he 
uses them to pull her hard and tight.

She doesn't flinch or make a sound.

He rams her hard fast and long, intently concentrating on her back and 
on his cock moving through her lovely ass.

He looks at me. "You want some?"

Jesus! It's not as though I'm getting laid a lot, or ever. He can't be 
serious. Maybe I'm misinterpreting "some". My cock is ignoring the 
ambiguity, sliding up my shorts looking for daylight.

He pulls out and sits down.

She straightens up and comes over, lying down along my leg. I'm feeling 
waves of adrenaline and heat, fear and desire. Her smile is not 
reassuring. She pulls my pants down to my knees. She takes my cock and 
balls out and lays them on my shorts. She gently fondles me with her 
right hand while she slithers up a little to rub my chest with her left. 
She stares into my eyes with a sneaky smile while she pokes the little 
holes with her index finger. Every now and then she rubs the finger on 
her forehead to pick up some sweat and then torments me with fresh salt.

I'm squirming, somewhere between pleasure and pain and they're not well 
mixed. There's a hole near one of my nipples. It was already bugging me 
and now she's working on it. I'm trying hard not to whimper. Her smile 
is radiant. I wish it wasn't my agony making her glow. She jerks my dick 
with a monotonous languor. She's pushing her finger into the hole, 
twisting and widening it.

Finally she gets up, grabbing my nipples. She wags me like a chew toy, 
lifting me up, then dropping me, and heads over to Brutus.

She backs up between his legs, wiggles his rampant cock around her juicy 
cunt lips sliding it in. She settles back side by side with Brutus. She 
watches me with her annoying smile, her arm over his shoulder, absently 
teasing his nipple. He watches me, fingering her clit. I watch them.

In a half hour my cock is harder than ever. Lying on my back by myself 
with a hard on being watched by two people I never met before.

It occurs to me I could leave. When I get the gumption, I do. Stand up, 
pull up my pants, walk out the door. They let me.

This hike is going to put the hospital walk to shame. Journey of a 
thousand miles..

I'm hot sweaty hungry and thirsty, and beyond sight of the house, when I 
hear the engine coming. He gets out, grabs my arm, drags me to the 
truck, tosses me in the bed. Thank God he didn't shoot me again.

When we get to the house I go inside and lie down on my spot.

She goes to the kitchen, he follows. After a while he comes out, aiming 
for my arm, I get up quickly and go to the kitchen. They feed me a 
sandwich and a glass of beer. As I'm sitting there afterwards relaxing, 
he reaches towards my arm. I run outside and lie down in the truck bed. 
When we get to the church I escape.

---------------------

I keep forgetting to get Neosporin. The holes in my chest are aching, 
round, red and throbbing. I'm tempted to see a doctor.

After a couple days I'm back at the church, curious. The dried blood 
pool is still vivid but less obvious, less thick. The church is still 
empty.

Brutus pulls up in front of me. I get in the back. When we arrive at the 
house I go inside. There's a straight back chair next to my spot. I sit 
down. Brutus gets a beer and sits in the corner, staring at me. I'm too 
embarrassed to stare back. I look around the room, green stucco, arched 
doorways.

When Mary comes in I stand up. I lower my pants to my knees, my legs 
apart to hold the pants up. She smiles.

Brutus fucks her throat and then her ass like before. I move to stand 
with my cock right in front of her face. I watch the action as Brutus 
now slowly runs his cock all the way in and out of her ass. My cock is 
ridged and drooling, I fell her breath on it.

After a while Brutus sits down.

Mary turns around. I kneel with my face at her ass. I am overcome, 
deeply inhaling the rich odors combined of woman, freshly fucked ass, 
and wet pussy. I gently spread her cheeks peering at her open and 
swollen anus. I cannot resist having a lick. My tongue outlines the 
delicate ridges surrounding her sphincter. I feel the strong muscle as I 
push inside. She squeezes my tongue gently and relaxes again. I push in 
as far as I can feeling her soft and slippery rectum.

She stands up. I turn around presenting my ass. She kneels behind me and 
spreads my cheeks. I feel her breath in my crack. She examines me with 
her finger, wetting it a number of times in her mouth. She tickles my 
hole and around the sphincter, pressing and releasing. As the finger 
makes progress into the hole she begins to move it in and out in an 
irregular rhythm, turning sometimes, pressing down on my prostate. There 
is a line of drool all the way from my cock to the floor. Her other hand 
reaches between my legs and with the lightest possible touch she slides 
it around my balls and up my cock to the tip where the hand falls away. 
I almost fall on my face.

She sits back and watches me quiver and pant for a while.

When my mind regains some coherence, I go over and lie in my spot. Mary 
leaves the room and returns with a scalpel and pointy tweezers. She lies 
down on me positioned to work on my chest. She cuts the scab off of one 
of the lower holes and then digs around to find the tiny ball which 
takes an excruciatingly long time. She does four of them, looking into 
my eyes from time to time, glowing.

Afterwards Brutus takes me back to the church.

---------------------

My cock is hard all the time anymore. Not that it isn't amusing and 
pleasurable, it just doesn't seem right. I should be getting off now and 
then. I don't get the hang of masturbation anymore. I'm only getting 
frustrated by Mary. Boy howdy. Maybe I should move away, far from here.

The next time I'm out at their place, Mary comes out nicely dressed, 
pastel slacks and blouse, black patent leather mules. I follow them out 
to the truck and get in the bed.

It's a long ride. We drive past settlements of increasing size, 
industrial parks, truck depots. We arrive at the airport. Mary gets out 
and I scramble to join her. Brutus drives off.

As we're standing in the security line, Mary is tickling my butt. I look 
around at her and she giggles. My cock is tenting my pants. My whole 
head and neck are burning with embarrassment.

The security officer tells me to take off my shoes and empty my pockets. 
While I'm bent over Mary pushes her finger into the center of my butt 
crack. I stand up, her finger squeezed between my cheeks. We walk 
through and sit down by the gate for our flight. She tickles my tented 
penis.

On board we strap in, me on the aisle. People are still shuffling in, 
jostling to stuff their things in the overhead compartments. Mary unzips 
me, pulls out my dick and balls leaving them set there. I struggle to 
breath. A lady who almost drops her bag on me, looks down at me 
casually. She finishes putting it away and finds her seat.

As I watch the lady I feel Mary's cool fingers brushing the head of my 
cock. My breath catches. I turn to look at Mary. She looks out the 
window. I relax a little bit.

The stewardesses start making their way down the aisle offering drinks, 
I panic. I look sharply over at Mary. She smiles, that annoying smile. I 
fidget. Could I jump out the window, I'd be gone. She glows.

They're serving the people just in front of us. The stewardess on this 
side of the cart bumps into my leg. She looks around at me and smiles, 
then goes back to serving.

I get a water. Mary doesn't have anything. While they put the ice and 
water in a cup, Mary moves her far hand over and rests it lightly on my 
leg gently tapping the underside of my cock with her finger tips. My 
cock is pulsing on my lap. The stewardess says, "Here's your water. Have 
a nice flight," a big friendly smile. I nod to her and say thanks. Then 
they're gone, at least out of my space. Mary is still tapping me. I'm 
feeling relieved, confused, and worried. Mary leans over and touches the 
end of my cock with her tongue. Then she settles back into her chair and 
closes her eyes. I lay my head back and close my eyes too. Not likely 
I'm going to nap.

When the plane lands and docks, we get up and join the throng jostling 
for the exit. My penis is rubbing against people. Mary is pressed up 
against me with her hand down my pants rubbing my anus. I'm leaking a 
little bit on the man in front of me.

We take a cab out to the city's central shopping district. We walk up to 
an intersection and wait for the light to change. She presses me forward 
to the curb. My penis is dangling out in front of me as cars and 
pedestrians pass by. At least it's not hard. She slides her hand down 
the back of my pants and fondles my hole raising my penis.

We go in and out of stores and window shop. I've got to pee really bad. 
We go into a department store. I walk over to the courtesy desk to ask 
where the restroom is. I stand in front of the counter waiting for a 
clerk, Mary next to me. People don't seem to be noticing my humiliating, 
even illegal, condition. Maybe this is some kind of illusion.

Mary bends around to my front, looking into my face with that radiant 
smile. This can't be a good sign. She reaches down in front of the 
counter and slaps my dick hard. I want to fall to the ground and curl 
up, but I don't.

The clerk comes over. "Can I help you sir?" The reality of the situation 
has me dumbfounded. I stand there. The clerk walks away.

We go out the front door and stand facing the street. I'm thinking I 
might not be able to hold it anymore. She turns to me and I look toward 
her. I start to pee. Tears are falling down my face. I'm so tired. I 
want to go home.

A cab pulls up and we get in. She fishes in her purse for a tissue and 
dabs my face. My stifled laugh forces snot to drool down my lip. She 
grins, wiping that too.

We make it through the crap at the airport and are on the plane for 
home. Most of the trip is uneventful, she resting, me quietly weeping. 
As the plane prepares to land, Mary waves over the stewardess and begins 
fussing with my seat belt. The stewardess bends over me and holds my 
penis out of Mary's way. I suck my breath and struggle not to cry out. 
I'm blubbering as we exit the plane.

Brutus is waiting for us. We make the long trek. I'm shivering in the 
wind. When we get to the house, I go in and collapse on my spot. After a 
while Brutus lays a blanket over me. I pass out and sleep hard, well 
past dawn.

They feed me eggs toast juice and coffee, more than I'm used to this 
early but welcome considering what a lean day yesterday was. I go back 
to my spot and lie down.

After a while they begin the ass fuck ritual. I'm starting to think 
maybe Brutus never gets his rocks off either. Suddenly he arches his 
back and issues a long low agonized moan. His powerful muscles weaken. 
He pulls her tightly to him as much to keep from falling as to finish 
his come. He's shaking as his body tosses over her. He falls back into 
the overstuffed chair, limp, hardly breathing, his long slimy dick 
hanging down, glistening.

She stands and walks over to me. She steps over me facing me, my dick 
pointing anxiously at her cunt. She lowers herself. Slowly she glides 
her cunt down my cock, the tiny delicate flowers of her sheath rippling 
down my highly sensitized skin, her weight pressing through me to the 
floor. A feeling of well being spreads through my hips down my legs, up 
my stomach and chest, out my shoulders to my finger tips, into my head 
and face, a peace I have never known before. I know it can't last. My 
longing for her overwhelms me, I am intensely sad. She slides back up, 
and off, and sits on the chair looking down at my face, radiant.

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