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From: Delta <delta*@bc.sympatico.ca>
Subject: Delta:  For Celeste (mf - poem)


Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by 
E-mail at: 

delta@bc.sympatico.ca 

until late August 1997.  After that comments should be directed 
to alt.sex.stories.d

Comments and critizisms are welcome.

Standard disclaimers:  This is a work of fiction - no character 
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead.  No 
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's 
imagination.  Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only.  It is not to be published 
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs, 
without the express prior consent of author.
     Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.


Delta.


           FOR CELESTE (for best effect, read aloud) (c) 1995
              By Delta

     I bring with me a tale of joy so grand
Of how the fair Celeste our group did serve,
How in dark days she came to overcome
The tendency to use bad grammar here.
Now how is this, you ask, a tale of sex?
And how are we to greet this song you sing?
Fear not my friends, for this I tell you true
Before I cease, someone is bound to screw!

     'Twas on a dark and dreary summer night
Did fair Celeste on Internet log on.
She found, to her dismay, a story there
Which failed to heed our grammar so sublime.
So bad was it that she could scarcely read
The lines which otherwise might turn her on.
"Oh, Darling," to her husband dear, she said,
"Can you believe what stands here 'fore our eyes?"
     "Why do you worry so about these things
Of which you have no pow'r at all to change?
But pow'r you have to help your husband dear,"
Said he as fingers traced her curves so sweet,
"With something hard that he with you would share."
     With eyes that twinkled bright, Celeste did turn
To gaze upon her husband's 'little man'
Who stood so straight and proud before her there,
And with a twitch or two invited her
To sample him 'til he did lose this form.
     Ah, joy did leap to our Celeste's bright eyes
Ah, wetness seeped from her dear treasure trove.
Her fingers flew as she did type 'log off'
And with a smile her husband she did lead
Unto the chamber of the bed, where she
Did all her glory great to him reveal.
     Her socks and shoes she scattered 'pon the floor
Her blouse and bra did follow in a trice.
Her husband dear, in state of bliss, did watch
As nipples came erect.
                       "Oh God, Celeste,"
Said he and bent to taste those buds so fair.
     His tongue did lash and smooth, did lick and thrill
And from our dear Celeste brought forth a groan,
While nimble fingers popped the snap which held
Her skirt, and down upon the floor it fell.
     Our dear Celeste, with head thrown back, did stand,
His hair she gripped, her balance for to keep
And shivered mightily despite the heat.
It was too much and fair Celeste let go
To fall upon the bed, to gently lay,
And in a daze she felt her panties slip
Down, down her legs, drawn by his skillful hands.
     Her legs drew up - and wide - they did invite.
Her arms reached out, did pull him to her breast.
Her lips did part to greet his probing tongue
While down below, her lips did also part.
His manhood at her portals stopped and paused;
Her eyes did flicker open with surprise,
"Why do you wait? What is it makes you stop?"
     "I want to hear you beg," came the reply.
     "You'll pay for this, oh husband mine - just wait.
But 'til that time doth come I must obey,
This body mine cannot withstand the ache,
So please, oh husband dear, come in *I beg*!"
     "Your wish is my command," said he and shoved.
He drove in deep and she let out a gasp.
     Oh pretty were the noises that she made.
Oh lovely was the flush which her suffused.
The joy which from her liquid centre came
Declared that Ecstacy must soon arrive.
     So high, so high our fair Celeste did fly
So hard, so hard her husband, he did strive
To show unto his dear Celeste his love
And gratefully at last he heard her cry.
     "Oh YES!" she shrieked, her body so turned on,
"I'll be the A S S grammarian!"

And now this dear Celeste to us belongs,
To help us put the comma in its place.
To this, her duty, she was clearly called
To aid us with our stories so ribald.


By Delta.

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