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From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} repost -- "Flash Flood" (Uther)
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Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2010 06:10:10 -0400
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"Flash Flood" {Uther} (MF Mf mf voy nc Fsolo preg)

If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law
to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do
something else.

This material is Copyright, 2003, Uther Pendragon.  All rights
reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading and
keeping one electronic copy for your personal reading so
long as this notice is included.  Reposting requires previous
permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to me
at nogardneprethu@gmail.com.

If you save erotic stories and you prefer that other household
members not be exposed to them, I recommend that you use a file
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that you choose would, presumably, not be "password.")  This
still leaves the titles of the files and the fact that they are
encrypted open to anybody.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.


                           #  #   #  #

                           Flash Flood
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com



                         - = -    - = -

                               Now


"Now, Jerry, Now!"

"Yes, darling. Oh, you are so warm... and so smooth."

"Oh my darling."

"Does it feel as good to you as it does to me?"

"Yes! You fill me. You complete me. And when you move like
that... Oh!"

"Are you all right?"

"Wonderful! Oh, yes. Oh yes."

"Darling, I can't stop. I can't hold back!"

"Don't. Oh!"

"Unh. Unh. Unh."

"Ooooh."

"I love you."

"You too. Stay here."





                              - = -

                             Always


"Just stay like this."

"It won't go in."

"See? And now I can hold you."

"You like them more than you like me."

"And I can hold you here, too. Not *more*, sweetheart. They
are beautiful, but they are part of you, part of your
beauty."

"You think I'll believe anything when you're like this. Oh,
Larry."

"Oh, Janice. Oh, my love! Oh my dearest. Come for me. Come
around me."

"Ah. Aaaah!"

"Uh. Love! ... I *do* love you."

"Then keep holding me,"

"Always."

                              - = -

                              Third


"I'm not made of glass, you know."

"I just don't want to hurt it."

"You won't. I'm all wrapped around it, and it's far, far,
inside. "What it will need is a happy mommy -- so make me
happy."

"Will this make you happy...? Or this...?"

"Oh yes! Yes, Don. Yes."

"And this?"

"What I need is this."

"Okay. Put me in.... Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

"No. Yes. I'm sure."

"Oh, my love. Oh, my love. Oh!"

"Ah! Ah. Oh, Don."

"Darling! Darling...! I have to get off."

"But you have to stay close."

"Happy? Mommy."

"Very happy. Happy? Daddy."

"Ecstatic."

                              - = -

                             Snatch

"My father will hunt you down for this, however long it
takes. You do know who he is, don't you?"

"The Don will do anything to revenge my snatching of his
daughter?"

"You have that right."

"He'll spare no effort; he'll sic all his soldiers on my
trail."

"All of them. And every marker he can call in. And he has
equals. They might not always agree, but they all will want to
make sure that nobody ever snatches one of *their*
daughters."

"He'll do everything he can."

"Absolutely everything."

"Then, Maria, there is nothing more he can do -- nothing more
that you can threaten me with."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that this experience should be one which is worth
making so powerful an enemy."

"You can't...."

"Now, just because *I'm* going to enjoy this, is no reason you
shouldn't"

"I won't.... I haven't ever...."

"There is a first time for everything. Why don't we get you
more comfortable?"

                              - = -

                              Sight

"You used to be so good about cleaning up the attic,
Craig.  I don't know what's come over you."

Craig wasn't about to tell his mom.  Steve's older sister,
Jennifer, used to sunbathe by the pool next door.  Since the
location she chose was hidden from her own house and from the
windows of theirs, she'd sometimes removed her top.  The
ventilation vents for their attic, however, afforded a nice
view.

Now, Jennifer was away at college.  Steve was locked in the
house with a cast on his leg, not that Craig was interested in
watching Steve.  And he'd always stayed up in the attic a good
long time.  So he brought one of his special magazines up with
him.  It wasn't the most comfortable place to read, but it did
afford privacy.

Once he'd straightened up the piles stored here and swept up
the accumulated dust, he glanced out the vent.  He'd imagine
Jennifer lying there.  Interrupting his dreams of Jennifer was
his sight of Steve's parents.  Steve's mom was lying on the pad
that Jennifer used.  She was an old woman, after all, and her
swimsuit was larger than Jennifer's had been.  Still, a woman
splayed out like that was worth a short look.

Craig decided to look more closely when she loosened her top.
He got only one second to see her breasts completely free before
she rolled over.  He could only see a little like that, but maybe
she'd roll over on her back again.  Jennifer sometimes had.

Then Steve's dad was interfering with the view.  He was
straddling Steve's mom and rubbing her back.  Apparently, he was
applying sunblock.  The view got better, though.  She raised
herself up, and Craig could see more of her breasts.

Steve's dad could do more than see.  The hands rubbing in the
sunblock strayed further to her sides.  Soon, his fingers were
stroking her breasts.

Then he rubbed the sunblock down her back.  When he reached
the swimsuit bottom, he lowered it and kept rubbing.  If only he
weren't in the way, Craig would be able to see a woman's
crack.

Then he did get out of the way.  Craig could see almost
everything from this angle.  She rolled over, and he could see
even more.  The hair on her cunt was mostly gone, leaving just a
strip on the top of the mound.  When Steve's dad suddenly blocked
Craig's view, he was also naked.  He had an erection, and no
wonder -- Craig had one, too.

He knelt down.  His hand blocked most of Craig's view of her
cunt, but he kept moving it, and sometimes he spread the lips so
Craig could almost see her clit.  From here?  Well, maybe it
was.

His head and sometimes his shoulders blocked Craig's view of
her breasts, too.  But he was licking them and putting the
nipples in his mouth.  So, when Craig could see the nipples, they
stood up more.

Suddenly, she reached for his dick.  In seconds, they were
doing it.  Steve's mom and dad were fucking!  As he watched
Steve's dad pump in and out, Craig's hips swung
sympathetically.

This was too much.  Craig opened his pants and grabbed his own
dick.  A couple of strokes were enough; this was hotter than any
magazine.  He sagged there, barely keeping on his feet.

"Craig, aren't you done yet?  I have a pile of things for you
to take up there when it's clean."

He hastily zipped up.  A glance through the ventilator slits
showed that the couple was resting side by side.


                              - = -

                             Hearing


Lynne's mom was *such* a prude.  Austin had been flat broke
Monday, and his car had been almost out of gas.  So, when he
picked her up, they decided to park in the driveway instead of
driving out to one of their regular spots.  Lynne had come in
early, too.  But did that matter to her mom?  No.  She bitched
that they were behind Mr. Roland's car.  "What if he had seen
you?" she asked.

Lynne would bet that her dad wouldn't have grounded her for a
week over something like that.  Not that her dad would have
minded Austin's blocking Mr. Roland's car.  He probably would
have preferred that they drive over Mr. Roland.  But this wasn't
her dad's weekend.  And her mom was inflexible.

So, when Lynne snuck into the rec room to open the cellar door
for Austin, she was only doing what her mom had made necessary.
If she was dressed in a sheer nightie when she did that, it was
what she wore to bed in the summer, after all.

It would have served her mom right if she'd snuck him into her
bedroom.  The windows opened wide enough for that, and Lynne had
made that trip often enough herself.  It would have served her
mom right, but Austin would have taken it as an invitation, an
invitation Lynne wasn't quite ready to extend yet.

Anyway Austin liked the nightie.  And, if they cuddled on the
old couch, this was all that they could do silently.  If they'd
turned on the TV, her mom would have been on them like a ton of
bricks.  Lynne was enjoying the kisses. Austin's touch through
the nightie was even more delightful.

She'd promised herself to keep the nightie on; she didn't let
Austin open her jeans or skirt in the car.  She was reconsidering
that promise, though.  His kisses and his touches made her *so*
hot.  Then he seemed distracted.  There was a sound overhead.
Was her mom looking for her?

No.  The sound wasn't moving.  It was just some creaking in
the room right over their heads, her mom's room.  Then the
creaking got into a more regular rhythm.  It was as if the bed
were moving back and forth over their heads.

Suddenly, Lynne realized what it was.  Austin obviously had
tumbled earlier.  Right beside each other, holding each other
intimately, they paid attention only to the sounds from the room
above them.  Lynne was sure she was blushing scarlet in the
dark.

Finally, after the squeaks went even louder and faster, they
fell silent.  Blessed silence.  And then, when she thought she
might be able to look Austin in the face someday without
blushing, she heard "Oh!"

                              - = -

                              Smell

Greg was used enough to doing the wash by this time that
sorting the clothes didn't take much of his attention.  This was
a pity, since all his thoughts were on Gayle's illness.  Even
when Allison was home, her conversation -- once so entertaining
-- was on her mother's condition.  He hoped she wasn't talking
about that to her date tonight.  The danger was small; she was
staying out later on dates these days.  Probably she saw the need
of distraction as much as he did.  And her youth provided more
opportunities.

He moved over to the contents of her hamper.  After the sick-
room smells of the hamper from his and Gayle's room, the lilac
odor permeating Allison's was a relief.  He'd given his little
girl a sachet as one of her Christmas presents every year, and
she still used it.  He held some of her clothes up to his nose to
get more of that odor.

One pair of panties, though, held another odor as well.  His
little girl was a young woman now.  He sniffed at another pair.
Greg knew he was a sick fuck to get turned on by the odor of his
own daughter's panties, but it had been so long.  He could bring
himself a little relief, but he didn't want to do it where Gayle
could find out.  Her response was to feel guilty.

He brought a second pair of panties to his nose, and then a
third.  Underlying the sachet was the smell of a woman, he'd
almost say the smell of an aroused woman.  Allison was gone for
hours; Gayle couldn't get out of their room without his help, let
alone down the stairs.  He was all alone with the machines and
his emotions.  He took out his cock and stroked it while sniffing
another pair of Allison's panties.

A fifth pair held a quite different odor.  He hadn't smelled
them in years, but he could still remember the scent of
used Trojans.

                              - = -

                              Taste

Peg's mouth tasted sweet.  It tasted of the pie they'd had
for dessert, and also -- a little -- of her.  Her breasts didn't
taste like much; her shower was too recent.  Her center, though,
tasted wonderful, salty and a little sweet.

He was lapping up that taste, and she was producing more, for
a contentedly long time.  Then she tensed under him.  When there
was a metallic tang to that taste, he stopped.

Her forehead tasted damp, and very salty.



                              - = -

                              Touch


Newly showered, she toweled off and then rubbed talcum
everywhere she could reach.

She slipped out of her robe in her bedroom, and treasured the
sensation of slipping between freshly-laundered sheets.  She ran
her fingers through her hair, enjoying the slight pulling on the
roots as she spread it out on the pillow around her.  She ran her
right hand down her left arm from shoulder to wrist.  Then she
repeated the feeling on the other arm.  She rubbed her hands down
her newly-powdered flanks.

All this was teasing, though.  Soon enough, her hands were
caressing her breasts, feeling the smoothness of the outer parts
and the bumps on the areolae.  The nipples were smooth, too, but
oh! so sensitive.  She could feel the ridges on her fingertips
when she stroked them.  However lightly she stroked them, the
ridges sent shivers through her.

Her fingers felt smooth when she stroked her thighs, however.
There was still some talcum remaining there, and she brushed it
along the insides of the thighs.  She got closer to their
juncture with every pass, but tried to stop just short.

The hair on her mound wasn't smooth at all.  It was wiry.  And
the feeling of it under her fingers was the least of her
sensations.  As she stroked her fingers through it, each follicle
reported the progress, upwards, downwards, upwards, further
downwards.  Down, finally, to her lips.

At first, she just brushed the hairs there, getting ten times
the sensation as she had from those on her mound.  Soon, though,
she rubbed the surface directly.  After having teased herself
with the delay, she parted the outer lips.

The inner lips were smooth and juicy against her fingertip.
Her fingertip was rough and ridged against those lips.  She
parted them as well and felt the real moisture.

Gently, slowly, she spread that moisture upward between those
lips.  Slowly, tantalizingly, she approached their meeting point.
Tantalizingly, carefully, she stroked the center of her
feelings.

As the fever gripped her, she stroked more firmly.  Still
careful, she brought herself to the point and through the point.
She lay there afterwards, feeling the sweat dry on her skin.


                              - = -

                         Proprioception

She was standing.

Her breasts sagged slightly from the removal of support.
Soon, though, her nipples firmed and extended.  She stepped, and
then eased down to a horizontal position.  Her mouth opened; her
tongue was pushed back and then pressed forward.  Her arms went
up and around.

Her knees bent and her legs spread.  Her nipples extended once
more, and one and then the other was pulled upwards against the
weight of her breasts.  Her outer labia were moved back and forth
very slightly, and then they were parted the slightest bit.  Now
her inner lips were being moved.  Her hips undulated upward to
meet those strokes.

After a long while, her hips were held down against the
mattress.  She felt her legs moved further apart.  Her outer
labia, and then the inner ones, were spread.  Her vaginal walls
were stretched.

Her legs were spread more widely apart, although they clasped
tightly.  Her hips were forced down again and again.  Her
diaphragm tightened and her hips rose.

She lay flat on the bed with a heavy weight pressing her
down.

                         - = -    - = -


The end
Flash Flood
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2003/05/05
2004/04/22
2010/08/09


For other short-short stories, these one
story at a time, see:
/~Uther_Pendragon/.story/pharmacyhtm
"Pharmacy"
and
/~Uther_Pendragon/story/introit.htm
"Introit"
This story is indexed under:
/~Uther_Pendragon/games.htm
Games

The index to almost all my stories:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm
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