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Subject: CELESTIAL REPOST 10,10,10 Adrienne à la Mode   By Cynthia 
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Poster's note:  I did not write this story.  Comments and feedback should go to Cynthia:
Versutiae@aol.com


Adrienne à la Mode

By Cynthia

  * All original material and characters herein copyright 1997 by the author. All rights
                           reserved by the author. *

*This story contains explicit sexual activity between adults.  Please do not read it if
you are under 18, or below the age of consent in your country/state of residence.*
                

  Adrienne surveyed the wreckage of dinner with a satisfied smile and tipped the
glass to her lips again. "A lovely trap," she thought, bubbles dancing down her
throat.

She righted the glass and held it before her face, considering her husband over the
rim. The champagne was doing what it did best, loosening mental shirt buttons
and splitting emotional zippers. Even with stress fizzing away, he was a still little
manic, a little nervous. Her eyes were to blame; they were burning the clothes
from his body one layer at a time.

Tim had been home little more than an hour, and already the tension between
them was dangerous. For the last twenty minutes, she had watched him jabber
excitedly about work while he devoured her coq au vin. She only hoped she was
next.

Adrienne ran her hand through the lazy waves of her short, black hair and set
down her glass. A sleeveless, black dress hugged her body, tracing every decadent
curve. While not her usual fare, it was fun to wear when he most needed
distracting. She wiggled her behind, the dress a little too familiar there. The
constant feel of being groped aroused her, thinning her patience.

Random spokes of hair hung over her blue-green eyes. She brushed them aside,
leaving no mystery as to the nature of her stare. Tim kept talking, avoiding the
trap of her eyes. Her thick, arching eyebrows were her deadly lures. They made
her look constantly and unnervingly inquisitive. Even at her most relaxed, even
when asleep, she seemed to be prying apart secrets.

If that was not enough, she could make every glance, every gesture, every breath
erotic. It just came naturally to her. It was no wonder her classes had nearly
perfect attendance rates.

Adrienne had thrown together the candles, jazz and dinner in the hope of luring
him away from the week, if only for a few minutes. So many things vied for her
attention, but this night was invaluable, not to be squandered.

A mountain of papers and student poetry loomed around the corner, but she had
no intention of scaling it until morning. Her literary ropes and pitons were packed
up for the night. That he could not let go of work himself both challenged and
aroused her. He had come hundreds of miles to sit before her and was still out of
reach.

He regaled her with yet another anecdote from his business trip to Toledo,
gesturing absently with his spoon, dotting his tie with drips of vanilla ice cream.
She laughed but nodded along with his story. She didn't care much about what
went on in Toledo, but she was excited to see him again, to have more than five
uninterrupted minutes with him. His unease was peculiar. His voice was like a
feather waggling nervously against her ears, teasing out her laughter despite her
attempts to look interested.

He was still wearing his blazer, and that annoyed her a little. It was like a shell he
wore, an armored chunk of that dull office world that swallowed him up day to
day. It was something out of which he had to be coaxed.

He tugged at his collar and wetted his throat before continuing. He looked like a
man in a soured job interview. Although she knew she was to blame, she did not
think she looked that predatory. However, she loved that she could still make him
uneasy with a glance.

Despite the prelude that the dinner really was--a neon arrow blinking at her
body--he had to be lured from the cold order of work to the seething chaos of her
eyes. The climate change was a bit daunting.

His relentless chatter was cathartic for him, a means by which he could slowly
peel away the layers of the work week. She knew that he wanted her and that his
stress held him in check. He had trouble letting go; work always had its claws in
him. She hated that jacket. "Contents under pressure" should have been stenciled
across it.

He kept talking, sparing almost no detail. Adrienne bit her lip. Devious thoughts
simmered in her mind. She sipped from her glass and laid it before her. Her hands
vanished beneath the table. She wriggled in her seat, all the while wearing her
"don't worry--I'm listening" face. Brow furrowed, he continued sketching out
proposals and opportunities and market shares, all of the prattle in which he swore
he could never take an interest.

Settled once again in her chair, Adrienne sighed, hands hidden, eyebrows raised in
a "my, that is interesting" pose. She let him talk for a while and then casually laid
her panties next to her salad fork. Tim stopped dead in mid-sentence, his words
piling up behind him like derailed train cars.

A devilish smirk crawled toward her ear. As he sat there blinking, speechless for
the first time since coming home, she let her quiet magic work on him.

Silence hovered over the table. Adrienne could almost hear the flames sucking
away at the candles. Her nipples pushed hard against the cotton of her dress. She
wanted so much to touch them.

She looked down at her neglected dessert. Raspberries lounged on the little dune
of ice cream and waded in the shallow, white sea surrounding it. She steeped the
tip of her middle finger in the melted portion, drawing it out slowly. From the
short, unpolished nail to the first knuckle, a glob of vanilla coated her fingertip.

She stared into him as her hand descended out of his sight and into her lap. A
shiver roamed her body, pinching her thick lips into a pout and flaring her eyes.
She blew a single, breathy moan across the table at him. Smiling wickedly, one
eyebrow cocked, she lifted her hand into the candlelight. The finger was clean.

Held tight in the clench of his face, his slate eyes looked about to shatter. He was
completely dazed. Watching the muscles in his neck tense, the wordless moving
of his mouth, Adrienne worried she had finally taken teasing to a lethal level and
given him a heart attack.

His mouth suddenly tilted in the randiest smirk she had ever seen. Full of wanting,
his eyes raked over her body. She was almost afraid of what she had awoken.

Tim rose and chuckled at himself. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked it away.
Adrienne grinned, overjoyed to see him finally shed that workaday skin. His
whole demeanor changed. He was alive again but shaky, a drowned man
resuscitated.

He stalked around the table, stepping peculiarly, as though his pockets were filled
with needles. She laughed when she realized it was due to the rigid bulge in his
pants. His own laughter died when he finally saw what the table had hidden.

Her dress was tugged up over her hips, bunched around her waist, the smooth
wood of the seat cool against her bottom. Her long, pale legs arched down to
black, flat-soled shoes, which she tapped anxiously on the hardwood floor.

He leaned over her, challenging her eyes. When he seemed about to speak, to
apologize for neglecting her, she stopped him, her fingers lighting on his lips.

"Such a busy mouth," she said, her first words in half an hour. The vestige of a
childhood in Belgium still lingered in her voice, chasing it with a subtle and
provocative accent. Despite a lifetime in America, she always had a foreign
mystique. "Put it to good use."

She carefully straightened his tie and licked her lips, her eyes heavily-lidded. Tim
knew her serious-business look. "Get to work."

Adrienne scooted her chair away from the table. Tim knelt before her and leaned
in close, the dark triangle of curls pointing the way. He hummed wickedly when
he realized her clitoris, full and inviting, was dabbed with vanilla.

Beneath the sweet smell, the scent of her teased him, making him ache. Hands on
her thighs, he pushed her legs apart and wrapped his lips around her clitoris,
sucking gently, rhythmically. Adrienne instantly moaned away all of her breath.
Clutching the chair, she braced herself for his tongue. When she felt it lash back
and forth behind his lips, licking away the ice cream, air crashed back into her
lungs with a gasp.

He sucked the little nub harder, trying to pull her entire body into his mouth. In
moments, the vanilla succumbed to her strong, gingery taste, and Tim tugged
harder at her, adoring it. Adrienne stamped her feet and moaned at the ceiling.
She imagined herself burning from the inside out.

She squinted down at him, tousling his hair with shaky hands. He sucked
relentlessly, his nose burrowed into her black curls, his sharp breaths tickling
through them. His eyes smiled up at her.

Leaving her with one last promissory kiss, Tim leaned back to catch his breath.
His chin had a telltale shine. Adrienne leered drunkenly at him, amazed. Unable to
take it any longer, he unzipped his trousers and freed his cock, stroking it
anxiously. She loved watching him do that, flattered that the taste of her could
make him so hard, so desperate for touch.

Hungry herself, she strummed her clitoris with her long fingers, moaning along
with him. For several minutes, they watched each other pleasure themselves.
Close to the edge, Tim stopped. They shared an old, familiar laugh when she
found it hard to take her own hand away. The laughter felt as good as anything
else.

Raising an eyebrow, Tim laid his hand on the seat between her legs, palm up. She
sighed decadently, anticipating what he was about to do. She rose just a few
inches off the chair and waited. When Tim's middle finger stood up straight, she
lowered herself onto it, so wet she felt little more than an erotic tickle as it
entered.

Knowing that he wanted to tease out the moment and torture her, she scowled at
him. In an instant, his long finger was thrumming inside her, rapidly waggling back
and forth. Adrienne sang to the ceiling again, her voice vibrating at his finger's
tempo. Sharp pleasure squeezed her eyes shut.

She brushed and tugged her nipples through her dress. They were tall and
achingly sensitive, stirring a delicious sting into her pleasure. Tim grinned up at
her, his finger trilling without pause. A heavy, crackling warmth spread through
her body, stretching all the way to her toes.

Nearing the edge, Adrienne ground her ass against the seat, pushing him as deep
as she could. Although his arm was beginning to ache, Tim moved faster. He was
rewarded with a high, throaty moan. Her hips trembled, and fire blossomed
between her legs.

Her hands abruptly went to the seat, latching tightly. She whimpered, teetering on
the brink, and moaned like a siren as she tumbled into orgasm. Adrienne thrashed
against the back of the chair, her nerves burning up. Completely out of control,
deep in the throes, she gyrated upon the seat.

Within a few moments, her body seized up one last time before collapsing with a
sigh. Tim smiled and moved his hand out from under her, counting himself lucky
his finger was not broken. She grinned back at him, her eyes promising to return
the favor threefold. She was impressed; whenever she seemed to have caught her
breath, it danced out of her reach again.


"It's your turn in the chair," she whispered, standing and tugging her dress back
into place. They exchanged positions. Tim's cock stood tall and rigid from his lap.
Adrienne smirked at it and laid his hands on the sides of the seat. "You'd better
hold on tight," she said.

>From just a breath away, she stared at his cock, watching it hunger. She tried toimagine what it felt like to be so hard, so confined. It amazed her. Over a week's
worth of tension coiled in one place. She knew he got so wrapped up in work on
his trips that he didn't masturbate. She had gotten him to do it over the phone a
few times but only with a lot of provocation. Unless she was there to inspire him
directly, desire was just something that silently knotted him up, making him
cranky.


Adrienne masturbated often, finding more inspiration than she could handle during
the course of a day. Poetry was not the only product of her sensual nature.
Textures, tastes and sounds swirled around her daily, stirring her up inside until
she had to do something about it. She wished it came half as naturally to him.

His cock twitched, ticking away his pulse. She wondered if she even needed to
touch him, if she could simply make him come with her voice. "That might be fun
to try sometime," she thought.

She splayed her left hand on his pelvis, and he winced. The muscles beneath her
hand were strained taut. It was as though his cock was pulling away from his
body. Adrienne leered up at him, her eyebrows daring him to beg.

"Ade," he whispered. "Please."

She wrapped her right hand around him and clenched her fingers. Tim groaned,
and his entire body stretched toward her hand. He was iron in her grasp.

A telltale glisten appeared on the tip, warning of the deluge to come. "He'll be
lucky to survive thirty seconds," she thought, a little disappointed but thoroughly
flattered.

She laid a feather of a kiss upon the very end, savoring that first anxious drop.
She wondered why it was so different from the horrible-tasting rush ahead. No
matter how he pleaded, she would not do that again, would not take that in her
mouth. She had forever closed the doors on the argument by saying, "You try it,
and then we'll talk."

Adrienne stroked him slowly: up and down, up and down. She rotated her hand a
little so that her fingers slithered around him with every rise and fall. Tim lay back
with his eyes closed, moans rising like smoke from his open mouth. Every time
her hand moved, his body shook as though suffering tiny shocks.

Just when he seemed to be building up for release, she let go of him, laying her
right hand next to her left on his stomach. She waited. Tim cracked an eye and
smiled meekly at her. Her thick lips stretched out in the most remarkable grin.

Without warning, her mouth was around him, engulfing him, taking him in all the
way to the base. Back arched, toes curled, Tim howled at the ceiling. Adrienne
hummed around him, pleased with herself. She clenched her lips around him and
drew away from him slowly, inch by inch.

When only the tip of him was in her mouth, she gave it a hard suck. Tim groaned,
thrusting up at her, trying to push himself farther into her mouth. She held on hard
with her mouth, refusing to allow him deeper, her head bobbing along with his
hips. When he stopped, she took him all the way in again. This time she held him
there, sucking on him like a straw, luxuriating in his moans. He quivered in her
mouth. She loved the sensation. She loved him.

Still surrounding him utterly, she tickled the base of his cock with her tongue. He
laughed achingly, prying open his eyes. She was staring at him-- into him--through
her sharp, black bangs. Her eyes reflected everything from confidence to cruelty
to love. She raised a bushy eyebrow like a warning flag. He clutched onto the
seat.

Adrienne suddenly bobbed her head, noisily sucking at him. She moved so
quickly, his nerves couldn't keep up with the sensations. She held the very tip of
him between her lips one moment and tickled her chin against his balls the next.
He felt as though she was literally sucking the energy from his body.

He throbbed against her tongue, wringing up harder than before. Abruptly, he was
out of her mouth, quivering in front of her. She sighed heavily, catching her
breath, and took his cock, warm and wet, tightly in hand.

She jerked hard, emulating the movement of her mouth. Tim stuttered, howling
his way over the edge. She loved this moment: when the sluice gates opened and
all the stress and tension in him rushed out. He pulsed wildly, but she held on,
yanking his orgasm from him.

He seized up and released, draping a long, white stripe through her hair. Startled,
she laughed and glanced up at her hair in mock annoyance. She would be ready
for the next burst. She jerked harder, shaking the come out of him. Spurt after
spurt leapt from him, covering her hands and his lap.

She laughed in amazement. A week's worth of stress had poured from him... and
made rather a mess.

When his breath returned, she let go of him, and he slouched in the chair. She
snatched her napkin from the table and dabbed at her hair, laughing. Humming to
herself, she wiped her glistening hands and pitched the spent napkin aside.

She grabbed her panties and draped them around his drooping cock. She worked
the cotton against his skin, delighting in the exhausted, "please--no more" grunts
and groans her touch provoked. She carefully cleaned him up, soaking her panties
with his strange, seashore scent. She dropped them and climbed to her feet,
leaning over to kiss him. The spice of her was on his lips, and she adored it,
wishing his come tasted more like that and less like insecticide.

"Thirsty?" she asked, drawing away from him. Tim nodded blearily. She stretched
and walked to the end of the table, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. She
picked up the champagne bottle and sauntered back toward him, her smirk leading
the way.

Grace suddenly abandoned her as she slipped on her wilted panties and toppled
into his lap. The bottle wobbled at the foot of the chair, coming to a rest upright,
not a drop spilled. They both burst into laughter, shaking against each other in the
candlelight.

As the giggles began to wane, he patted her affectionately on the behind, signaling
for her to get up. Adrienne went quiet.

"Spank me," she said, arching her back to look him in the eye. He chuckled, but
the champagne veil had lifted for the moment. She was serious.

"What?" She had him off-balance again... and delighted in it.

She lowered her head and stared at him through the black veil of her bangs. She
steeped her voice in the warmest of her fantasies and blew it at him like smoke.
"Spank me."

"Ade. Come on. It's the champagne talking," he said, uncertain. "You don't want
me to do that." However, he knew she was still in charge, still lucid, and that
made him all the more nervous. The champagne might have tickled her voice and
her skin, but her eyes were still clear and incisive.

She never ceased to amaze him. Here was this accomplished poet, this respected
professor, asking him to spank her. From the lofty to the lusty, there was nothing
she could not do. Her range was unnerving.

She knew she would have to provoke him again. He always slipped back a little
after he came, his driven passion fading into drowsy pensiveness.

Still holding his eye, she slowly pulled back the hem of her dress, baring her
voluptuous behind to the candlelight. She ran her hand adoringly over the curves,
smiling disarmingly. Her ass was a monument to decadence. She knew how he
gawked at it when she was fresh out of the shower in the morning, how he loved
watching it quiver when he took her from behind, grabbing and groping it at every
chance. She knew its power over him.

He stared numbly, savoring every curve. The tiny, X-shaped scar on her left
buttock inspired a smile. As a child, she had caught herself on a barbed-wire fence
while nipping grapes from a neighbor's vineyard. She told him often how the
sweet taste had been worth the pain.

Adrienne slowly and rhythmically clenched her behind, trying to entice him, but
sensed his uncertainty. She would have to play tough to lure him into her fantasy.

"You know," she said, her voice low and husky, "it's been so long since you've
made love to me that I've taken to fantasizing about everyone in your office when
you're out of town."

He sat stark still, dumbfounded. He knew how voracious her mind was, and that
worried him. Adrienne smirked. She hoped she could embellish enough to draw
him.

She wiggled her ass and casually lifted her glass from the table with her left hand.
When she teetered on his lap, he absently clapped his hand on her thigh to steady
her. She lifted the bottle from the floor and topped her glass.

"Seriously?" he said, a tiny needle of hurt popping the champagne bubbles.

"Seriously," she said into the glass as she sipped. Her eyes seethed. She licked a
stray drop from her lips. "In my mind, I've come with each and every one of
them. Several times."

"Ade, don't play games..."

"I had Steve take me from behind while I was draped over your desk."

"Steve? My best friend? Ade, he would never..."

"He would never," she confirmed. "In fact, I seem to recall him yelling, 'I can't do
this to Tim's wife!' just before he came all over me, all over this naughty ass."
She raised a challenging eyebrow and casually took another sip. She watched his
face change, watched his emotional scales wobble up and down.

Tim was clearly taken aback. His hand tensed, clenching her thigh, rising almost
imperceptibly. She hummed into her glass.

He frowned down at her. "Who else, Ade?"

"Well, there are so many. It's hard to keep track. Throw out some names."

He felt completely trapped. "Ben Rouse?"

"Your boss?" she said, biting her lip and rolling her eyes across the ceiling.

She smiled. "Tallish fellow? Always looks like he's just missed his train by ten
seconds?"

"Yes..."

She smirked so hard a dimple rose on her cheek. "I sucked him in the elevator."
Tim's eyes swam. Adrienne warmed up her voice some more, intensifying her
accent. "We got on on the thirteenth floor, and he got off on the third." His hand
rose a little more, cradling her left buttock. He could not believe she would be so
shameless with her fantasies.

"Well, then there's always Bob."

"Bob from Accounting?!" he snapped, completely nonplused. "The Star Trek
guy?! Beam-Me-Up Bob?!"

"I bet he has a huge cock," she cooed. "And do you know where I want it?" She
dipped two fingertips in her champagne and, leering up at him, rubbed them
against her asshole in lazy circles. "Right there."

A bittersweet rage boiled up through him. He smacked her sharply on the behind,
making it quiver. The blow shook her whole body. The champagne sloshed in the
glass. Adrienne winced for but a moment then moaned luxuriously.

Instantly taking on a ruddy glow, her ass looked even prouder to him. Before she
could catch her breath, his hand crashed into her again. The sensation was
delicious. When her moan trailed off, she casually sipped her champagne,
unimpressed, her eyebrows high and haughty.

Infuriated, Tim shifted, holding her firmly in his lap, his left arm draped across the
small of her back and around her hip. In rapid succession, he swatted one buttock
and then the other, sending ripples through her flesh. Adrienne groaned in ecstasy,
in realization of her fantasy.

Relentlessly, he warmed her behind, the soft smacks echoing about the room.
Despite being tricked into the role, being goaded to her whim, he was careful.
Each blow was little more than a pat, just enough to give her a little, well-deserved
sting but not enough to hurt.

Adrienne loved it, moans hiccupping from her with every swat. Her behind
blushed in the candlelight, adoring his hand. She smiled to herself when she felt
his cock slowly stiffening against her belly.

Moaning and laughing, she kicked her feet when he began spanking her in earnest,
paddling her with his gentle hand. The blush spreading across her behind spread
inside her as well, singeing her, making her very wet.

When at last he stopped, she reached back and ran her hand over the warm,
quivering curves. Her breaths fell heavily, and she shot him a wild, appreciative
look. She had nearly come.

Tim retraced the course of her hand, enjoying the heat of her skin. Adrienne
moaned at the floor, her behind just tender enough to make every caress arousing
to her. As his fingers glided over her, tremors rode her body, and her ass clenched
invitingly. He smirked. It was his turn to surprise her.

He looked up at the table. A little lump of ice cream remained in her dish, a little
iceberg in a swollen, white sea. The raspberries had drowned. He dipped his
fingers in the cool cream and rubbed it on her toasted behind.

Adrienne cooed. The ice cream made her ass feel that much hotter. Slowly,
teasingly, he covered her warm behind with vanilla, smoothing it all around her.
Besides being intensely aroused, she felt cherished. She relaxed, savoring the cool
strokes.

Tim raked his eyes over her lovely behind while soaking his middle finger in ice
cream. He smiled at the cleft between her cruelly curvaceous cheeks, his mind
exploring with his eyes. When his finger was thoroughly covered and achingly
cold, he pressed it into her ass.

Adrienne's head flew up, and a long, throaty moan shook from her mouth. She
clenched hard, which only pushed his finger deeper. The contrast of the heat on
her skin and the cold inside her nearly pushed her over the edge. She loved his
finger there, loved the way it sucked the heat and the pleasure from her body.

Trying to bluff him, to make it seem as though she was bored, she tried to take a
casual sip of champagne. Hands shaky with pleasure, she missed her mouth and
popped her nose into the glass. She laughed at herself and gave in, giving voice to
the deeper moans she had held back. He was harder than ever against her
stomach.

He moved his finger slowly, drawing out her moans. Wanting to hear more of her
beautiful, husky cries, he gave her random swats with his free hand, complicating
her pleasure, pushing her toward release. He was amazed with himself, amazed he
had become entangled in her fantasy. He loved all this, and she knew it. She was
deviously cunning when it came to getting what she wanted.

She was tight around his finger. The aching cold dwindled away quickly, leaving
him feeling only the quivering heat of her body. He could feel the warning shivers
in her even before she cried out for him to stop.

All at once, Adrienne wriggled out of his grasp and scrambled to her feet. She laid
the glass on table and turned toward him. Her breathing erratic, her eyes wild, she
closed his legs and straddled them, hovering over him. Her dress drooped over her
thighs, and she tugged it roughly above her waist, rolling it under until it stayed in
place.

Startling him, she clapped her hands on chair's high back and glared at him
through a ragged veil of bangs. Her intensity unnerved him. Feeling the warmth of
her brushing the tip of his cock, he shot her a look of appeal. Adrienne smiled,
kissed him tenderly and reassuringly on the nose and engulfed him, her ass
crashing warm and sticky into his lap.

Air silently vanished from his lungs, and he sat still as pleasure loomed up over
him, eclipsing everything. Adrienne, on the other hand, growled at full voice,
rolling her hips, pressing harder, savoring him savagely.

Absolutely driven, she pistoned upon him, repeatedly pushing herself up with her
toes and letting her full weight fall hard on his lap. The chair creaked as she
bounced upon him. The candles threw a strange, bobbing shadow on the wall
behind them.

Holding onto her waist, Tim could do little but weather her storm. Overwhelmed
as he was, he could barely even make a sound. He felt utterly used... and did not
mind a bit.

Every impact spread a tingling sting through her ass that she adored. Desperate for
more, she came down upon him harder and harder, driving him deeper thanhe had
ever been. The chair groaned. Lightning danced throughout her body.

Sliding his hands up to the sides of her breasts, Tim pushed at Adrienne's nipples
with his thumbs. The fabric heightened the sensation, adding a bittersweet friction
that made her back arch, her thighs twitch.

She was so warm, so wet. He was so hard, so deep. They both ached from the
pleasure, their faces pinched comically. They would have laughed had their eyes
not been squeezed shut.

Holding back as best he could, Tim waited for her, every moment fighting the
urge to explode. The pressure building in him made him harder, giving her a
greater sense of being filled, making her come.

Adrienne's eyebrows scrunched together, the pressure bearing down heavily upon
her before sweeping her away. She slammed into his lap one last time and ground
down on him, clenching her behind tightly to hold him at that fantastic depth.

A molten sensation seethed between her legs, pouring fire into her arms and her
legs. Head back, she whimpered and moaned, singing out her ecstasy.

Dragged over the edge, Tim erupted inside her. He grimaced, yelling, the release
so great it almost hurt. He held her steady as pangs of pleasure knocked her body
about. In moments, they were crumpled against each other, shuddering and
murmuring and stroking each other's hair.

As breath returned and shivers fell silent, they talked and laughed, exhausted. It
was time for a shower and who knew what afterward.

Still holding him inside her, Adrienne reached back and lifted her glass from the
table. She sipped her champagne and smiled, trying hard to look bored.

"You were kidding about my co-workers... right?" he said.

She cocked an eyebrow and smirked around the lip of her glass. "Of course."

END

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| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /