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From: Delta <delta*@bc.sympatico.ca>
Subject: Delta: MAKE ****** FAST (mf, satire)


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  It is not to be published 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.
                MAKE ******* FAST





     The doorbell rang and Ellen groaned.  "Not another, 
please God, not another."  She pushed herself off the bed,
arms and legs trembling.  How *had* this gone so wrong?
     It had been one of those notions which should have been 
filed away under "It Seemed A Good Idea At The Time" and left 
to gather dust for about a week or so until the shine had worn
off and it could be examined for its more lasting (if any)
virtues.  Unfortunately, that was *not* how it had gone.  
The idea had been brilliant, it seemed, and the sooner one 
put a brilliant idea into action, the sooner one reaped the 
benefits of one's brilliance.  That was the theory.  Practice, 
however, was something else entirely.
     "I'm coming, I'm coming," she yelled at the door, whose
bell continued to ring.  Then Ellen groaned once more as 
her own words hit home.  It wasn't funny, she thought, not
funny at all.  It came to her that somehow she had offended
the god of irony - and perhaps a few others along the way - 
and that they were now paying her back.  Payback was, as
they said, a bitch.  
     "Please, God," she didn't specify which one, "please
not another!"  
     It was with a sigh of relief that she espied Gerry 
through the peep-hole and she opened the door.
     "You don't know how glad I am that it's you," she 
sighed, then stopped short as she caught the look of utter
outrage which made itself known through his exhaustion.  
"What is . . ."
     "Do you *realize* what you've done?" Gerry interrupted,
energy beating back the tiredness for a moment before they both
retreated before the all-pervasive numbness.  He was carrying
a couple of sheets of paper in his hand and he looked down
at them with a look that Ellen could only describe as a mixture
of outrage, desperation and horror.
     Ellen's own expression was one of tired resignation.  "Yes,
Gerry, I think I do.  In fact, I'm pretty sure that I do."  
She turned and led the way toward the private back yard with 
its spa.  They both needed it, she figured correctly.  Walking, 
she thought tiredly, was not all it was cracked up to be.
     "I don't think you do at all," replied Gerry wistfully, 
as he followed docilely.  He couldn't help noticing that Ellen 
was becoming a little bow-legged.  That little gap between her
upper thighs was very sexy . . . . He stopped that thought in
its tracks.  Even if he wanted to . . . 
     Gerry impassively watched Ellen undress, not that she had
much to take off: a flimsy negligee, some undies.  There was no
question that she was a very good looking woman, no question
at all.  Very good looking and very sexy.  He sighed.  He just 
didn't care anymore.  Once the mere flash of a little skin 
would have had him hard.  Now she was just Ellen.  Hard as it 
was to believe, they had progressed beyond anything sexual - if 
that was to be called progression.
     "Oh, God, that feels good," Ellen breathed out as she
slipped into the hot water.  She watched Gerry as he joined her.
He looked as tired and as sore as she felt.  She felt a slight
curiosity about the pages he lay down on the deck, but it 
would be too much trouble to ask and she wasn't sure she
wanted to know anyway.
     There was silence between them for several long minutes
as their tired, sore bodies melted into the welcoming heat
of the spa.  Then, slowly, life filtered back into them
as the cold orange juice, which Ellen had brought out with 
her, had its effect.
     "Okay, Gerry, out with it.  I think I can take it now."
Ellen pushed back her long blonde hair and rested her head
on the spa's deck.
     Gerry, who had been showing signs of his usual casual
nature, suddenly became intense once more.
     "Do you know what I have here?" he snarled, waving the
sheets in her face.
     Best to stay calm, she thought.  "No, Gerry, I don't.
Perhaps you could enlighten me."
     "It's a copy of Celestial Reviews that I downloaded
this morning."
     "Celestial Reviews?  I am impressed.  You wrote a story?
She didn't like it?  When did you find the time . . ."
     "I didn't find the time!" he spat out.  "And it's not
a review of *stories* . . ." Gerry sputtered, his outrage and
horror making further speech impossible.
     Ellen looked at him, confused.  Then her eyes slowly
widened with a dawning comprehension.  She became slack-jawed
as the first of the implications sank home.
     "When did she start . . ."
     "How the hell should I know.  I only get onto the net
for a few minutes every couple days now - thanks to you," his
eyes narrowed with misplaced anger - it had been as much
his fault as hers, but it had been her idea so he felt little 
remorse as he blamed her.
     "But this is amazing.  Do you remember . . ."  Ellen
wasn't having much luck finishing her sentences.
     "How the hell could I?" he asked plaintively.  Can you
remember . . ."
     "Point taken."  Ellen nodded somberly, pouring herself
another glass of orange juice, wishing for something a little
stronger.  "Okay, let's see."  She held out her hand.
     Gerry handed over the download without further ado and
watched as Ellen read it.  "Wow!  She gave you a Heracles
rating of 9, an Eros rating of 9.5 and an Orion rating of
a solid 10."  Ellen was impressed, then she frowned.  "Orion?
What's Orion . . ."
     "He was a hunter.  Ergo, the ability to hunt, find and 
make the, uh, kill . . . so to speak."
     "Oh . . . Oh my!"  Her smile was genuine.  "But isn't 
that good?  You should be proud.  If her standards are 
anything like those for stories - wow!"  Ellen looked at him
with a little more interest.  "So what's wrong?"
     "What's wrong?  I'll tell you what's wrong - it's on
the NET, that's what's wrong!"
     "Oh."  Her voice was small, understanding complete.
     "'Oh', indeed.  And you know how I found out?"  
     Ellen shrugged, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
     "The last one.  She wasn't even interested in getting on 
the list.  She'd read the review and, as she put it, come
a runnin'.  Panting too, if you know what I mean.  Afterwards
she told me that Celeste was right, then told me about the 
review.  I turned on the computer, found it and downloaded it.
Gods!  What am I going to do?"  Gerry's head hung.  He was
finished and he knew it.
     Before Ellen could think of a reply a tall good looking
man poked his head around the corner of the house.
     "Are you Ellen?" he asked.
     Ellen turned her head, knowing at once what it was.  
Bitter experience had taught her about the nuances of tone
of voice.  She sighed heavily.
     "Yes, I'm Ellen."
     "Hi.  I'm Dan.  I have the letter."  He showed it to her.
     She barely took the time to scan it.  She knew its
wording by heart.  After all she had written the original.


          Having a hard time finding partners?  Looking 
     for a little excitement?  Well, let me tell you, I 
     didn't think this would work, but it has brought me 
     more excitement in the last two months than I've had 
     in the past ten years.  
          If you'll just take 5 minutes of your time to read 
     through this letter - and it is perfectly legal - you, 
     too, will be blessed with more excitement than you can 
     possibly imagine.

She skipped down a bit.
 
          Here's how it works.  At the bottom of this 
     letter you will find two columns of names and 
     addresses.  Simply (if you are a woman) send a man 
     to each and every name in the right hand column, 
     visit each and every name in the left hand column, 
     then cross out the top name in the right hand column 
     and replace it with your own.  Then send the letter 
     to five other people of each gender.  Soon you'll 
     be having more fun and excitement than you ever
     dreamed possible.  (If you are a man . . . well, 
     you get the picture.)

     Remember.  This is perfectly legal.  And, please, it 
     is a matter of honour that you visit each and every 
     participant and that you place your name at the *end* 
     of the list.  I know that you are all honourable people 
     and I thank you in advance.  And remember, also, BYOC.

     Don't Break The Chain!

     Ellen noted, with relief, that her name was now number 2 on
the list.  She only wished that she'd been smart enough to put it
up high to begin with.  Now there was only one possible problem:
If this Celestial Review business was to become widespread, to
catch on, some participants could start cheating and putting her
name back on the list, just to get a, well, a 'piece' of her.
She knew she would rank high on the scale.  Suddenly she stopped
dead.  That man.  That man several days ago - she couldn't remember
his name or what he looked like - hadn't he said that his wife was
an English teacher?  He had been so impressed.  Oh no.  OH NO! 

     "I'm ready for you Ellen."  It was Dan, and sure enough, he
was very hard, very ready.  "How about doggy style, right on the
spa?  Oh, yes, you look great!"  His hands roamed up and down her
sides, slipped under her to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples.
He had such nice hands.
     She turned her head to ask, "BYOC?"
     "Yep.  Got it right here."  Dan tore open the little packet
and unrolled the contents over his hardness.  "Lubed, ribbed, and
spermicide," he said proudly.  
     He began to tease her sex and, in spite of her sexual 
exhaustion, Ellen found her body beginning to react once more.  It
was if it had been in training and the more she got the more she
could take.  Not only that, but the path to orgasm had been trod
so often that once well on the way, there was no losing it.  This
time, though, she wouldn't mind a nice gentle fuck that didn't
make her come.
     "OH!"  He was large and had penetrated her to the hilt in 
one smooth thrust.  Then he was moving in and out in a slow
thrilling rhythm.  Suddenly she thought of Gerry, right there
beside her, still in the spa.
     "You don't mind, Gerry, do you?"  she gasped between strokes.
It was a little late for that.
     "Not at all.  Better you than me."  Gerry had to grin a 
little.  Besides, he was interested in seeing her as she went
through her paces.  It was almost like a little revenge for
getting him into this in the beginning.
     "Gerry?  Not THE Gerry?  The Celestial Reviews Gerry?"
Dan looked over at him, never pausing in his firm strokes.
     "Yep.  'Fraid so."  What could he say?
     "Oh, man!  I'm honoured!  Put 'er there pal."  Dan
held out his right hand, his left pressing down in the
small of Ellen's back.
     Gerry was impressed that the man could keep up his
rhythm while talking to him and shaking his hand.  Ellen
was now breathing faster and more loudly and Gerry, from
his now vast experience, recognized that she was faking, just
a little, in order to get Dan more excited and thus finish
him quickly before her body went through another exhausting
orgasm.  She was giving him a good ride, too, moving back
to meet his thrusts, gyrating, grinding.  Gerry could tell
that all her partners would have had a good time.
     "Say, Gerry, I see you got an Orion rating of 10.  
Would you mind . . ."
     Ellen's eyes flicked open and she mouthed a 'no' at
Gerry.  He merely grinned at her and she closed her eyes.
     "Not a problem, Dan, old pal."  He moved close, took
Dan's forefinger and moved it surely and unerringly to Ellen's
clit.  He then helped Dan establish a motion, a rhythm which
had Ellen bucking all over the place, but she couldn't escape
as Dan's left hand held her fast.
     "No, no!  Please!  Oh, no . . . no " she gasped.  Out of
the corner of her eye she saw the grimly satisfied smile on
Gerry's face, then everything faded as she . . . "Oh yes, yes, 
YES!"
     Ellen's climax pushed Dan over the edge and he rammed
hard into her one last time, crying out his own exaltation.

     As she lay on her side, recovering from the exertion, 
Ellen looked at Gerry and mouthed at him, 'Bastard'.  Gerry
merely grinned.
     "Gee, thanks Ellen.  That was great.  God, I love this!"
     See how much you like it in a month, was the thought 
which ran through the minds of both Gerry and Ellen.
     "And, Gerry?  Thanksa bunch, too.  And, to make things 
even better, I've got a great surprise for you."  Dan smiled 
hugely.
     Gerry looked at Ellen, who shrugged as Dan went to the 
gate at the side of the house.  Once there he called out and
Gerry's face fell.
     "Say, honey, you won't believe it.  Gerry's here.  Yes,
Gerry.  Now you won't have to go looking for him.  Yeah,
come on.  Oh, baby, love the way they bounce when you run."
     "Oh, no.  I can't get it up again, not yet.  It's a 
nightmare."  Gerry's face was a picture of woe.
     "Don't worry, I think I can help you with that,"  Ellen
smirked, her face suddenly alive with a very nasty smile.  She
began sucking on her finger, coating it with saliva.  "No, I 
don't think that will be a problem at all."

End of "Make ****** Fast" by Delta

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