Message-ID: <6230eli$9712091152@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/6230.txt> From: beth <mareva@artificial.com> Subject: Joe and Beth: Free Scones Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII 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: <199712090602.BAA18593@artificial.com> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright (c) 1997 Joe and Beth. For reproduction permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. Archives will be made available at http://www.artificial.com/~mareva/ This story is copyrighted work. That's right, some people worked hard and slaved over it, and they'll be really pissed if you go and sell it without their permission, or if you repost it without these copyright notices at the beginning and the end. For permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Free Scones Beth and I were driving down Van Ness towards the Golden Gate Bridge. Beth was behind the wheel, since she knew where she was going. I could count the number of times I'd been to San Francisco on one hand. A couple of borrowed bikes were tossed in the trunk. She turned left, towards the bridge. "Oh wait," I said, "there's the best little restaurant up here. It's called Home Plate, they serve the best breakfast. It's right across from the IHOP." "What's so great about it?" Beth asked. She looked fabulous today. I figured she'd done the mattress mambo with Troy the night before because she had that real limber quality about her. Her arms and legs were kind of floppy, and she was gently bumping into things. Doorways, car doors, and me. Her body was craving contact and just about everything was satisfying it. Earlier, when were talking in the kitchen, she didn't just lean against the doorway, she wrapped herself around it. One leg hiked up and her face flush against the yellow paint. I could see why Troy called her the "human serpent". And that goofy grin. We passed Home Plate on the right as I remembered the last time I'd eaten there. "Free scones", I said. "Free what?" "Scones. You know, like a muffin on steroids. They bring it to you as soon as you sit down. It keeps you from ordering hastily out of sheer hunger." "Oh I hate that. I always end up ordering based upon what will take the least amount of time to cook." We passed by the Exploratorium on the way to the bridge. "Did I ever tell you about the time Troy and I-" "Yes, you fucked under the Roman columns with the dome and the acoustics were really great." "No trace of the romantic in you", she criticized. "This was incredible. It was after midnight, and we'd just finished the last of a bag of really great weed. My skin had that hyper-sensitive quality to it that makes me shiver or itch constantly. At the Exploratorium there are these huge Roman-looking columns that hold up this big dome. I had a tennis ball in the car and we threw it down as hard as we could to try and make it hit the roof, though it didn't come close. The acoustics in there were fabulous. Although the place is well lit, there was nobody around. I pulled Troy's pants down and I felt him shiver once from the cold night air. I knelt down right there on the stone floor and put him in my mouth. Every one of his moans echoed twice, ricocheting off the roof. I swallowed him in one motion right down to the root. His hands immediately stiffened, gripping my shoulders so hard I had marks the next day. I kept licking and sucking him, teasing occasionally by just running my tongue gently in circles around the edge of his head - that drives him crazy. I could hear his breathing change when I changed my motion on his cock. He was really enjoying himself but he said he wanted to hear me come too, so he pushed me onto my back and stuck his fingers up under my skirt. As soon as he touched me they slid right in - I always get so incredibly wet when I'm giving head. I moaned and wrapped my legs around his torso, pulling him towards me. He moved his arm to the small of my back and rammed himself into me, spreading my flesh. I almost came right then, it was so intense. We were both so excited that it didn't take long. Our moans echoed louder and louder against the dome - the sound was nearly deafening. When Troy came he was growling like a bear. After he collapsed onto me and we were gasping for breath, I could hear the ducks in the lagoon fly away. It was way too early for migration." I think she lost herself in the story; I stopped listening when the sex started. I'd heard all this before. I've always loved the Exploratorium. The dome was in that 70's remake of H.G. Wells' "Time Machine". The heroine lived across from the dome, and walked home past it every day from work. I remember the first time I went to the Exploratorium, a wave of recognition hit me as I realized where I'd seen it before. We parked in the Exploratorium lot and pulled the bikes off the back of the car, then started across the bridge. Beth took off ahead of me going as fast as she could, pumping her legs like mad and showing off her firm, flabless ass. After just a few hundred yards she stopped at one of the little overlooks to enjoy the view. I came up behind her and she didn't even see me - she was too busy gazing out over the ocean longingly towards Hawaii. She had history there she'd never told me about. I turned my eyes straight up to examine the monstrosity of steel that held us aloft, wondering out loud "How in the hell did they get the-- *WHAM!* There was a brief crunch of metal and Beth gasped and yelled, "Hey!" Some guy had clipped her as he peeled by on his bike. His foot hit her back tire, rotating her bike and slamming the handlebar into her thigh. The bicycle pump strapped to it had come off and was plunging into the San Francisco Bay. He turned around and shouted, "Get out of the way!" "FUCK YOU!" I didn't think he had any intent of taking her up on the suggestion. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine, it's just my leg." She stepped off of her bike, fuming and shaky. If she was really hurt, we'd be going back to the car. "Here, let me look at it." Beth kept staring down the bridge in the direction the guy had left. She was definitely pissed off, still breathing hard from being startled so badly. "Why do people have to be such *assholes*?!" I crouched down and put my hands on her thigh just above her knee and started applying gentle pressure with my fingers. "Does this hurt?" "No. It's higher, where it hit." "Up here?" I kept probing, trying hard not to notice that her skin was soft, the muscles underneath firm yet giving gently as I pushed my fingers into them, probing for injury. I failed. "Here?" "Further up." She was trembling with a combination of anger and post-impact shakes. I looked up at her; her fists were clenched. My hands scooted up an inch, and then another. I pushed each fingertip just a little bit, caressing slightly as I pulled back. I didn't want to grope her, but at the same time I could tell she was enjoying being touched. I slid my hands up another inch, imagining I'd soon feel the edge of her panties with my fingers. If she was wearing any. That drove me nuts. I couldn't help thinking that it would be just another inch from where my middle finger now was to just gently brush her. I could feel the heat emanating from her. My hands were shaking a little. I focused on my thumbs and index fingers and finding the bruise, feeling her flesh give way as I pressed. "Ow!" "There?" "Yes, there!" she retorted crankily. I grabbed the hem of her shorts and gently raised it. There was an angry red stripe where the bar had hit her. She looked down and pulled them up even more for a better look. Yep, no underwear. "Dammit! I'm gonna have a huge bruise." "Sorry. If you want I can hunt down that guy and kill him for you." "And rob me of the pleasure? Look, let's just go." She hopped on her bike and sped away from me. All day I tried to keep up, but she rode like a bat out of hell despite her injury. To this day she still has a slight change in skin tone color where the handlebar hit her. You really can't see it unless you're down there looking pretty carefully. She didn't even realize it hadn't perfectly healed until one day I was down there and noticed it. But that's another story. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright (c) 1997 Joe and Beth. For reproduction permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. Archives will be made available at http://www.artificial.com/~mareva/ This story is copyrighted work. That's right, some people worked hard and slaved over it, and they'll be really pissed if you go and sell it without their permission, or if you repost it without these copyright notices at the beginning and the end. For permission, contact mareva@artificial.com. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- +--------------' 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> /