Message-ID: <4702eli$9710081343@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/4702.txt> From: dez187lm@hotmail.com (H.D. Meister) Subject: Story: Tales Three - tales003.txt [1/1] Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <61epqh$s8u$2@solaris.cc.vt.edu> As usual, if you are not 18, or live in a community where adult material is illegal, do not read this!! Also, this work is meant to be freely published, so long as due credit is given to the author. Comments can be directed to: dez187lm@hotmail.com And yes... I am the author!! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Tales Three: Mike By:H.D. Meister Mike waited. The sound of bass filled his room, and the smoke from three cigars floated like thunderheads over his bed. He was not expecting company; he was waiting for Time. Had it been one year earlier, he would not have been where he was. Now, however, he possessed honor. Things were different now... in more ways than he dared count. It started several months earlier, with the visit from Rose. He considered her a good friend, and her brother was a close friend. He treasured them both. Now... he found himself facing the demon Lust. Not an uncommon thing, but he had a great deal to lose. Or did, before he became a Man of Honor. He could clearly see her legs, plump and waiting. He knew all too well the stories of the men who had touched and tasted her flesh. And he also knew how they had failed to give her what he believed to be the ultimate pleasure. He longed to show her that which she knew of, but had yet to experience.. But she was a friend, and as such, he felt she should have to never know his touch. And he also knew that a touch similar to his own was exactly what she wished to feel... and if he were the one, then she would not be adverse to it. He could feel the smooth flesh, hot and dripping sweat, beneath fingers which now clutched a forty ounce bottle of malt liquor. His tongue, covered with malt liquor, longed to taste of her essence... to slide between the folds of her womanhood and taste the center of her love. The image of her legs, wrapped lovingly around his head, made his manhood thunder between his legs. He could smell her, even through the haze of cigar smoke and alcohol. He smiled as his hands itched with the ghost touch of her skin. As she poured her nectar onto his beard, he envisioned her hands as they sought anything to keep her rooted in reality. A futile effort, for he knew he would not be satisfied until she was lost within the overpowering chaos of orgasm. Strangely, he did not think of the actual act of having sex; that he knew the end results of, and wanted no fantasy to cloud the future. He knew that he would drag the tip of his cock along her cunt with painful slowness. His end was not to frustrate her; he wanted to delay the moment. He desired to savor the moment for as long as possible, and then some. He knew that he would slide that same tip over her clit until the look in her eyes told him that she was his and his alone: no other before him was even the faintest thought. He turned his head, and his eyes fell on his love seat. A smile crept across his lips as he saw himself behind her, steadily feeding her hungry cunt with his cock. He knew that she feared this position, mostly because of the tales he had told her. But he would not venture into her forbidden asshole... unless she wanted him to do so. He watched the motions with the eyes of a scientist: picking out which would do bring her closer to the edge of oblivion.... without throwing her over. He could feel her nipples as they burned holes into his hands... the sweat as it dripped through those same holes. He saw himself taste her ear lobes gently. The sounds of skins slapping together pleased him, but not as much as hearing this quiet woman gasps with each powerful, and easy, thrust. Mike closed his eyes, and the vision changed. She was riding him, taking care not to let her full weight fall on him. He saw as he took hold of her ample hips and slammed her down, filling her totally with everything he had. Hearing her gasps, then moan with pleasure, was more pleasing than the sensation of being within a woman. He wanted her to fall onto him exhausted... unable to think, much less move. His hands slid over her wide, soft butt cheeks, and he enjoyed the lost look in her eyes. His lips balked. They could not have... yet... what he wanted most. So he tipped his bottle and drank. Time. And he waited. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | 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> /