Message-ID: <7861eli$9804140034@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
From: Kristen78 <Kristen78@aol.com>
Subject: "Lake Tahoe" by Kristen
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: <b50736ee.35327aac@aol.com>
Can you accept an attachment? My story is just a little over AOL's
allowable 30,000 bytes and won't let me send it completely via e-mail.
I guess I'll see....... Kristen
("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
then PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: Tahoe.txt (mf)
Authors name: Kristen Kathy Becker
Story Title : Trip To Lake Tahoe
-=*=--=*=-
Lake Tahoe
By Kristen 'Kathy' Becker
April 1998
Written with Lord Malinov's Spring Break Workshop in mind.
:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:
"It is now safe to turn your computer off."
I had just finished answering my last e-mail.
It was to Bronwen one of the fearless leaders of the
erotic writer's guild. (Which I am a proud junior
member of.) I had made a post to our Internet newsgroup
that I was going to Lake Tahoe for a week, and she had
asked me if going to Lake Tahoe was a good thing. I
thought that it was. Even if I did had to do some work,
I'd get some skiing in too. So I had responded; I'll
let you know when I get back."
As I punched the off button on the computer, I
looked up at the clock on the wall of my bedroom and
noticed that I'd been messing around a little too long
and realized that if I wanted to make my 4:30 flight
I'd better get my butt in gear.
:-:
As I pulled out of the long driveway to my
apartment house and headed toward Portland up highway
20, I made a mental list of the stuff I was taking with
me. This whole trip was kinda weird. My boss had called
me only the day before to inform me we were going to
have a "Corporate Retreat" in a little town called
Stateline, just north of Lake Tahoe. He said that the
meetings would be held on Wednesday, Thursday and
Friday. Then on Saturday we'd take the day off and go
skiing on mount Rose. I think the whole thing was
supposed to make us more like a team.
Well, as long as I have my skis on the roof rack
I am up for anything. This was like a vacation for me.
I love to travel. Any excuse is a good one as far as
I'm concerned. I'd fly to Buffalo New York just for the
fun of flying there. (That may give you an idea of the
lengths I'd go just to travel)
I don't get to travel a lot and being 20, I
don't have loads of cash. Basically I live in three
rooms in a huge old farm house/mansion off of highway
20 on the edge of the Deschutes National forest. It's
a neat old house but my space in it is "small" but
only costs me $350 a month. Since I own my 1977 Ford
Explorer (built a year before I was born) and my
computer belongs to the company I work for, my actual
expenses are pretty low. But somehow I always seem to
live just a little over my income. Contact with the
outside world is pretty limited when the biggest city
near you is a place called Bend. (It's OK that you
probably have never heard of Bend. It's sort of in the
middle of Oregon and there's not a lot of reason for
anyone to know that it even exists)
At any rate, I was stoked! Heading up the fog
shrouded road to fun and adventure, with a slight guilt
pang that my boyfriend Jeff couldn't come with me. But
then this was business and I'd be working for three
days (sort of -- wink, wink). He was in the middle of a
project just then anyway and had been up in Seattle for
almost a week when my boss called. (Jeff's a Structural
Engineer)
:-:
I made Portland just fine. Got parked and
through the construction wracked terminal in time to
be one of the blessed first thirty passengers on
Southwest flight 1709 to Sacramento. (They don't have
assigned seats, and even though I like people, I hate
having to sit in a middle seat) We boarded and left
right on time.
My plan was to catch up on reading several of my
friends Internet stories via the old laptop during the
1 1/2-hour flight to Sacramento. I was sitting next to
an older man (40ish) and made a special effort to in-
troduce myself to him and get to know him a little. He
turned out to be a salesman, and also a reverend; he
had his own church. His little congregation met at his
house each Sunday.
I usually draw my neighbor into reading my
stories during a flight, unless I'm traveling with
Jeff, then we keep each other busy. I like to get
their reaction, it's fun to let them know that I write
erotic stories for the Internet. And it's fun to see if
they get aroused sitting there beside me while we read
a selected story together. (I've had several interest-
ing things happen doing this on a flight, which I
should probably write about sometime) But I didn't
think that my salesman/ preacher would appreciate what
I was up to, so I positioned the computer screen
toward the window so he couldn't read it.
I was determined to read without making any
outward signs of what I was doing. Luckily I had al-
ready read Woodsmokes story (It really makes me crazy
when someone uses my name in their story. For some
reason that turns me on to imagine myself in a story.)
But as I read the story list, no one else had done that
and I was able to get through every story without
giving myself away, although some of those stories did
make me kind of crazy.
Well, everything went all right and we landed
at Sacramento International at 6:45PM. But as I was
walking through the rather seedy looking terminal an
announcement came over the loudspeaker. "Kristen
Becker, please pick up a white courtesy phone." That
surprised me -- nothing like that had ever happened to
me before. As a matter of fact I wasn't sure what a
white courtesy phone was. But being smarter that the
average blonde, I quickly figured out that the white
phones on the wall must be what they meant.
It turned out that Andreaus (The big boss) had
a son who was also attending our little retreat. And
he wanted me to meet him at the Southwest Baggage
claim and bring him with me to the meeting. Well...
I have to admit I was put off a little by this.
Apparently Antonio (Seems like all the men in my boss'
family have "An" names of some kind or other) wouldn't
be 18 for two more months, and therefore couldn't rent
a car on his own. So I was stuck. It's hard to say no
to the boss, especially when he's covering all your
expenses for a day on the slopes, if you know what I
mean.
I was wearing my black cold weather outfit that
day and when I walked into the baggage claim I got a
good response from the men in the area. (I make a point
of wearing tight outfits. It's fun to watch the lengths
some men will go to, to get a good look at some leg.
I'm not a really bad tease or anything, I just know
that I look good in tight pants.)
And there was Antonio standing by the carousel
undressing me with his eyes. I was taken aback a little
by the unrelenting stare he was giving my body. And I
do mean my body, I don't think he looked into my face
until I was standing right in front of him offering
him a hand to shake.
Looking back it was kind of funny, because when
I shook his hand it was real sweaty, and he realized at
that moment that he'd been staring like an idiot, and
became super embarrassed.
His dad is around 50 or so and has gray hair
so I had no idea what color it had been when he was
younger. Putting aside the sweaty handshake Antonio's
most outstanding feature was his lovely auburn-red
hair. Lots of wavy hair, the kind that seems to fall
into place without doing anything to it. (I suspected
it was an expensive haircut.) He was also quite hand-
some, but then I find most men handsome in one way or
another.
:-:
After the introduction was over we grabbed a
luggage-cart and filled it with our baggage and ski's,
then headed toward the busses that take you to the
rentals. As we went out the terminal doors I realized
that the weather had turned ugly. You could actually
see the clouds moving overhead. The wind is something
else in Sacramento; it cuts right through you, even in
cold weather clothing. But I didn't mind, I just walked
faster and made Antonio run after me to try to keep up.
Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a little bit
pushy. It's not that I'm rude or mean in the slightest,
I just have a hard time with slow people. I'm very
athletic and feel that men have a big advantage over
women strength wise, and I have little patience with
men who complain and can't keep up with me. I gave
little Antonio a hard time when he began to whine at
me about the pace I had set, so I walked faster... I
also said something that offended his masculinity and
after that he was pretty sullen for a while. But things
livened up when we got into our 1998 Blazer and it
wouldn't start.
I had to get an attendant to take a look at the
vehicle for me. He kind of pissed me off when he took
the attitude that I was just another dumb blonde who
didn't know anything about cars. Well... anyway it was
a bad fuse. It took him awhile to figure it out. I was
ready for another car, but they didn't have any more
four-wheel drive vehicles on the lot, and I thought
with the crummy weather it would be wise to stay with
a four-wheel drive since we were going to do some
mountain driving.
The short version is: We finally left the
Sacramento airport about 7:30PM heading south on
Interstate 5. I had no trouble finding the junction
to Hwy. 50 and then pushed the pedal to the metal.
South Tahoe is a little over two hours from Sacramento,
and I wanted to get in to the hotel long before 10PM,
so I was hurrying things a bit.
About Plaserville the fog and snow started. The
snow began falling like we were in the middle of a
blizzard. I had to slow down to fifty just to see
twenty feet in front of me. (So much for 10PM) I
started to get worried when I saw the fog thickening.
Slowing the Blazer down to twenty-five we began to
creep up the two-lane road.
I knew we were in trouble just after we passed
Kyburz and the side of the hill to the right of slid
down into the river that ran along the side of the
road. There had been a forest fire sometime in the
past year or two and the soil erosion was obvious even
in the dark. I stopped the truck in the middle of the
snow covered road as we watched the soil and tree
stumps fall all the way into the rushing river. It was
dark and the only reason we'd seen the hill go, was
that the area had been framed in the headlights of the
Blazer when it let loose. Realizing that the weather
was turning worse I pushed on - hoping to make the
remaining twenty-nine miles to Lake Tahoe before any
other nasty things happened.
About ten miles farther on the big one happened.
The truck stopped. I mean everything stopped. The
headlights when out, the engine stopped and we were
sitting in the middle of the road. I kept trying to
start the engine, but after turning the key fifty times
with nothing happening I finally stopped. Antonio in
his helpful male adolescent way suggested that it might
be a fuse.
I knew that! It just hadn't occurred to me yet.
So I scrunched down to look at the area the
rental guy had been working on and started to pick at
the panel that covered it. Well... I couldn't seem to
get it off, and finally Antonio got tired of me hitting
the dashboard and swearing at the plastic covering and
got out of the passenger seat and slogged around the
Blazer. Opening my door he leaned in and flipped the
hatch open. He flicked a Bick lighter to see what he
was doing and soon found the bad fuse. As if he knew
what he was doing he kept moving them around until the
headlights flashed on.
I turned the ignition and the engine started up
immediately.
And promptly stopped again right after Antonio
reclaimed the passenger seat. Cursing, he moved to open
his door again, but I grabbed his arm and said, "just
climb over me and I'll move to your side. The snow's
getting too deep, and it's colder than the North Pole
out there." Little Antonio hesitated, then did what I
had suggested. I hadn't planned on him rubbing his face
across my chest though, but I gave him the benefit of
the doubt and didn't punch him in the nuts to wipe the
dumb smile off his face.
(Here's another one of those "To make a long
story short" statements.) We couldn't get the Blazer
to start again. Antonio guessed that the lower rated
fuses just popped their little filament thingys when-
ever we turned on the ignition. So there we were,
stuck! The snow was coming down in buckets and the
wind was whistling through a crack that I had left
open on the driver's side window and couldn't close
because they were power windows. (And they no longer
worked) Needless to say it only took ten minutes for
all the residual heat to be sucked out of the truck.
It was about this time that I noticed that no
other cars had gone by us for almost a half-hour. I
could barely see the tire tracks that were filling
with snow in front of us. (We learned later that when
that hill had slid down into the river it had created
a temporary damming effect. That had brought the water
level up to overflow the pavement. The authorities
soon came on the situation and stopped the up hill
traffic until morning, as well as at the top of the
mountain too, and rerouted everyone another way. But
what really PO'ed me, was that no-one checked the road
to make sure it was empty. I guess they figured that
everyone would keep traveling, and the authorities at
the slide couldn't see us because we were miles up the
road.)
I figured *something* was wrong because Hwy. 50
is a comparatively important artery between Lake Tahoe
and the outside world. We waited another hour before I
decided to put on the rest of my ski clothes over the
stuff I was already wearing. This is when I found out
that sweet little Antonio only had a shaving kit and
his laptop in his carry-on. He told me that his dad
had everything and that he was supposed to pick his
stuff up at the consignor once we arrived. (Oh great!)
I'm 5'4" and at my heaviest I've never weighed
more than 115 (well maybe 120 for six months back in
the eighth grade). Antonio on the other hand was an
inch over 6 feet and probably weighed 175 lbs. (Yes he
is big for his age isn't he?) Which wasn't a problem
before we got stuck in a fog blown snowstorm with
sub-zero weather all around us.
I hated doing it, but I told Antonio to put my
parka on, (Which would probably never be the same
after that) and since there was absolutely no hope of
him fitting into my pants, (Damn those tight pants
anyway) I had him wrap as much spare clothing as we
had around his legs. The only problem we had was that
we were both still freezing.
We talked for what seemed like days. I found
out that Andy (yes he preferred that to Antonio) was
a musician, and that his dad didn't like that one bit.
I found out that he thought of himself as a square peg
being forced into a round hole. (His words, not mine)
And that he wanted nothing more than his father's
approval for what he was, not for what his father
wanted him to be.
I could identify with that. Not that my folks
harassed me or anything. They had my older sister Amy
for that. I was the angelic fair-haired child compared
to her. (Amy did things like sending naked pictures of
herself out on the Internet, and then getting caught
when a friend of the family told dad about it.) The
point is, Andy and I were connecting, I was starting
to think there was a brain behind those handsome
"blank" eyes of his.
But inevitably, being a teenage boy, Andy
brought the subject around to sex. We were talking
about the Internet and where the company's future was
heading when little Andy said. "You know I probably
have the worlds largest collection of pornography on
my computer." I raised an eyebrow and asked, "What
kind of pornography are we talking about little man?"
"Nude pictures and dirty sex stories." He looked
me straight in the eyes waiting for me to be shocked
and horrified. I just smiled my most innocent smile and
asked him, "Do you have any with you on your laptop?"
I think he was shocked that a female would ask him a
question like that, instead of being indignant.
"Uh, yah I do, you what to see some?" He asked,
a little worried now.
I asked him how many pictures and how many
stories he had in his collection. He proudly told me
that he had hundreds. He had peaked my curiosity --
it's not everyday you meet a fellow erotic items
collector in real life.
Andy pulled his laptop out and turned it on. He
began coyly to bring up picture after picture. I was
surprised at the screen quality. (My laptop has a
liquid crystal screen and pictures don't look that
great on it.) I could quickly tell that little Andy
was a "doggy-style" man. It seemed that just about all
his pictures where of couples having sex doggy-style.
(It still amazes me that some people can get so caught
up in one thing to the exclusion of all the other good
stuff in the world.)
After seeing some of his collection of pictures
I could tell that he was becoming aroused. (This I
didn't need.) But at the same time his computer was
sitting in my lap, and it was nice and warm. I was in
heaven, I couldn't believe he didn't know that I was
getting all this great heat. If I told him I didn't
want to see anymore of his pictures he would probably
turn the computer off. I definitely didn't want him
to do that. So we continued to look at his adolescent
dream-scapes for another hour until his computer
started to beep a low battery warning. Disappointed
but somewhat warmed I watched him turn it off and
stow it in his carry-on.
Andy had surprised me with his "guy" collection
just before the battery warning went off. He had a nice
collection of men, and I had to admit that I was just
a little warmer than I would have been otherwise, from
looking at them. I've always loved to look at naked
men. (Not that I've had all that many chances to do
it.) It took Jeff a little while to get used to me
always asking him to take his clothes off. As far as
I'm concerned, if the heats up in the apartment,
there's no reason that he has to wear clothes. And he
looks so nice naked.
We sat for another hour in the cold when I
realized that I had to pee, and it quickly became an
urgent dilemma for me. I think that if I'd been alone
I might have just used the Burger King Coke cup sitting
in its holder, but with Andy in the car this was out
of the question. Finally I said, "I gotta pee, I'll be
right back." I was gone for no more that a couple of
minutes taking care of my urgent business, when I
opened the car door and jumped back in the drivers
seat; I was instantly ready to knock little Andy
Pascoe's block off. His dad might be my boss, but
the little shit had dug my computer out of my carry-on
and was running it, warming his lap. "HEY! BOZO! What
the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled in my
most commanding tone.
He looked up at me with a beatific smile on his
face and said two words that stopped me in my tracks.
"Kristen's collection." I was speechless. I'd never
thought about the consequences of having someone
actually find out *who* I am. Thoughts about being
fired from my job, about this little jerk telling the
whole world *who* I am. I mean he had access to my
home address, my home phone. Then he said, "Guess I
didn't even know what I was talking about, did I? So
you're Kristen huh. Who'da guessed?" He just stared
at me as my computer battery started beeping. "You
ought to keep it charged better," he said as he shut
it down.
"I was using it on the plane, now give it here.
If you say anything to anyone I'll have to have you
murdered. I hope you know that!?"
Andy just smiled back at me and said, "I hadn't
thought about it, but this does give me a little power
in our relationship doesn't it?"
"Relationship? We don't have a relationship.
You're just a twerpy snoop who should have his legs
broken at the knees." I knew that I probably sounded
pretty stupid, but I was flustered and had no idea
what to do.
"God, it's cold in here. I don't think you have
to worry about me saying anything, we're going to
freeze to death tonight anyway. I'm starting to worry
whether we're going to make it." His teeth were
beginning to chatter from the cold now. If the truth
be known I was worried too. Not so much about dying,
but frostbite was a real threat.
"Come on, we have to get in the back of the
truck. If we lie down beside each other and cover
ourselves with everything we have maybe our combined
body heat will give us a little warmth." It's all I
could think of to say. Ever since I had gone outside
to pee, I hadn't been able to get warm again. I was
starting to loose the feeling in my toes, and the
last thing I wanted was frozen toes.
We climbed into the back of the Blazer and
threw all my spare clothes on top of us. I rolled
over on my side and told Andy to spoon me. "And don't
get any stupid adolescent ideas either." I thought I'd
better throw that cautionary in for good measure.
After what seemed like weeks I looked at my
ladies Swiss Army watch; it glowed back at me, almost
mockingly. We'd only been laying there for less than
twenty minutes. My toes were completely numb now. I
could feel the cold creeping up my legs. I was so cold
by then that I knew I wouldn't even be able to walk.
Not that there was any place to walk to.
I asked Andy, "How do you feel?"
"I'm really cold, and what's worse; now I'm
cold and I'm horny. Do you have any idea what laying
like this is doing to me?" His voice cracked on the
word "this". Normally I'd good-naturally tease him
about his voice, but at the moment I was in pain.
Slowly I came to the realization that we were
in terrible trouble here. If someone didn't come down
the road soon, we might both be damaged for life. I
could just picture my feet with no toes, and myself
hobbling around on stumps for the rest of my life.
That vision sparked me into action.
The same thought kept running through my head.
It was a saying a girlfriend of mine used to say a
lot. "Have you ever noticed that when you're having
sex that a head-cold, or an allergy seems to go away.
It's like while you're 'doing it' your body corrects
any malfunction, or your mind regulates the body to
make it feel better." She used to think that this
theory proved that everything was based on mind over
matter.
A little hesitantly I asked Andy, "How do your
feet feel?" He responded in a muffled voice, "Like
needles are being stuck in them. I'm so cold I don't
think I'll be able to take it much longer."
With a resigned sigh, I reached my hand behind
me and cupped his crotch. "How does this feel?" I asked.
"Hey!" he yelped, his voice breaking again in
his surprise.
I could feel his body jump when my fingers
gripped him through his pants. Many thoughts ran
through my mind right then. All the reasons why I
shouldn't be doing this, and almost as quickly I
answered myself with the arguments why I should. 'I
shouldn't do this because it would be cheating on
Jeff. ' I answered that problem quickly with the
argument that he would understand the situation called
for drastic methods.' Then I thought, 'I don't have
any condoms', and just as quickly my brain manufactured
the obvious answer that 'Andy was obviously a virgin
so I wouldn't catch anything from him'. Then, boom,
another problem; 'You'll get fired if his dad finds
out that you fucked his little pride and joy', of
course that argument against death or dismemberment
was easy to overcome. Soon I had reconciled myself
to what I was going to do.
Slowly I began to massage Andy through the
material of his pants. He quieted down for a bit and
just lay there and let me feel him. But soon he began
writhing around behind me. The thought occurred to me
that I wasn't doing this just to get him off. We
needed to generate serious body heat, and for both
of us. But at the same time I knew that Andy wouldn't
last very long the first time either. So I rolled over
facing him and started to kiss him on the lips. (I
love kissing guys. It's even better than dancing with
them, and I LOVE to dance.) It never fails to get me
going, when I kiss a guy, even Andy. And I very badly
needed to get myself in the *mood* for what I knew
must to be done.
He was kissing me back now. I could just barely
make out his face in the dark as we kissed. His eyes
were closed tight and he had this desperate look on
his face. I could tell he was lost in the sensations
of the moment. It was very touching to see his urgency.
I kept my eyes open and watched him responding to me.
After a short while I steeled myself for the
next step. Andy needed to get that first orgasm out of
the way, and I didn't want to have to lay in his wet
spots for the rest of the night. That left me with a
decision: which way to take him. I decided quickly,
and reached with both hands to unfasten his pants. I
figured that he would last about ten seconds and I
didn't want him spurting all over everything just in
case he couldn't hold it.
Pants unfastened, boner out and waving. I shut
my eyes and kissed it. Then I was worried that if I
messed around he'd make that mess I didn't want all
over me. So I did one of my Jeff specials. Jeff likes
it best when I just give him lip friction in fast deep
dives, then on the withdrawal he likes it when I swirl
my tongue on the underside and at the little flange at
the head. I do that ten or twelve times then I take
him in my hands and slowly jack his long wang, then
the dives again. I repeat that until he can't hold
back any more and I either take him internally, or I
let him shoot all over the place. I only do that when
I want to reward him for something he's done really
nice for me, otherwise I'm a little more selfish
about sex.
With little Andy it only took three dives and he
was groaning and jerking around underneath me. I was
enjoying myself for a moment. Until all those thoughts
popped into my mind as Andy pumped his sperm down my
throat. I was *cheating* on Jeff. Then the next moment
I was mad at *Jeff* for making me feel guilty. Didn't
he want me to stay alive and in one piece? It's not
like I was going to run away with this kid or anything.
(Isn't it' funny how we can turn the blame around for
anything when the occasion warrants?)
I kept swallowing Andy's sperm; I was beginning
to find it hard to keep swallowing. I felt a little
bloated by the time he had his last spasm in my mouth.
Even though I was a little queasy from taking so much
of a strange guys spunk, I was *glad* that it wasn't
freezing on our skin, or on the carpet beneath us.
Andy's eyes were still closed, and my hand was
still on his nice looking cock. I took the opportunity
to look at his pole as it stuck out of the fly of his
pants. It had the nicest shape. I've only seen a few
guys in real life, but his was one of the nicest real
life weenies I'd ever seen. It was kind of thick and
probably about five inches long - but it was so
sculptured. I'm not making a lot of sense am I?
I guess you had to be there to know what I'm talking
about.
Although I felt a little better blood
circulation-wise, my toes were still numb, and I
knew that I needed some real exertion myself, and
I knew what I would have to do to make that happen.
So I unzipped my black ski pants and pulled one leg
off. Andy was lying on his back watching me struggle
with my pants. He looked amused, the little crud. I
knew that I would lose body heat by taking my pants
off, but couldn't figure out any other way to do
what I had in mind with them on. I also knew that
I needed to be on top if I wanted to get my circula-
tion flowing properly.
After I'd tugged my pants off one leg and then
put on one pant-leg of another outfit on my other leg,
I had the essential area bare while at the same time
keeping my legs covered from the cold.
I can not lie; I was dripping with anticipa-
tion. My sex life had been focused on Jeff for the
past 18 months. And before that with two other guys,
and that had been only sporadically. So this was new
and exciting to me no matter how much I wanted to
pretend that it was a life saving exercise. I knelt
beside Andy and unbuttoned his pants and opened his
fly completely. Then I tugged at his waistband,
pulling his pants part way down his thighs.
YES! He really looked wonderful. What I could
see of his stomach was so tight. He didn't have a lot
of hair on his body, and reminded me a little of a
muscular female, except that his cock was fully hard
and waiting for me. I didn't want to wait any longer.
I knew I was wet enough for him so I straddled his
body and took his shiny cock in my hand, and sank
down on it.
Again I have a confession to make: he felt
wonderful inside me. His thick cock filled me so
completely. I started to ride him immediately; you
couldn't have stopped me at that moment if his father
had shown up knocking on the window.
Andy was watching me. I could tell even with
my eyes closed. I was thrusting my hips forward, not
raising up, just like a lady bronco rider, rubbing
myself against him, feeling him inside me. It had
been so long since I'd felt the thrill of sex with
a strange man. Guiltily I thought of Jeff, then I
thought about how it had been with Jeff the first
time. I had seduced him on the balcony of my little
apartment. I remembered how good it had felt to have
Jeff on top of me that lazy afternoon. To have his
strong Nordic cock thrusting deep inside me.
"Ooooohhhh GOD! YES!" I was coming on top of
Andy in one of the most intense orgasms I think I've
ever had. The thought of fucking Jeff, while I was
really doing it to Andy just seemed to push me over
the edge. I could feel my body shivering on top of
Andy's. He was gasping as I rammed him as deep as I
could inside me. He felt so good!
I could see his stomach muscles working as he
thrust back at me. He looked as if he couldn't catch
his breath and began to gasp for air. As he raised
his upper body to hug me I knew he was having his own
orgasm deep inside me. The thought of a strange man
coming in me brought on another more leisurely orgasm
as I continued to lovingly rub myself against him,
taking him as deep as he would go.
He held on to my neck for almost a full minute
before falling back to the floor of the Blazer with a
sigh that told me he was done. I leaned forward and
kissed him, making sure he didn't fall out of me while
we embraced.
As we kissed I realized that my toes felt per-
fectly normal again. In fact I felt rudely flushed and
perfectly healthy. As I looked up, I noticed that the
windshield was completely fogged up, and realized that
I was warm. Then I calculated how long we would keep
our pleasant afterglow. I figured that maybe we would
be OK for about a half-hour or so. Looking at my watch
I noticed that it was 1AM.
Hmmm, at this rate we're going to be awfully
tired tomorrow. Let's see, it's 1AM, a half hour of
warm blood circulation... say 7AM before dawn, and
maybe 8 before anyone gets down here, lets see how
many times will we have to. . .?
Epilogue:
It was almost 8 o'clock in the morning before
a snowplow came down the road with the highway patrol
following behind. The patrolman was amazed that we
were so fit after the night we'd obviously had to
endure. The patrolman fixed our fuse, and let us go
on our way.
Both Andy and I dragged through the Wednesday
morning meetings. His father let us go after the noon
break because we looked so tired. I let Andy stay with
me that afternoon, but only as a special good-bye for
both of us. We'll always be special friends, and I
don't think I have to worry about him giving secrets
away anymore. I now have Andy on my story list. He'll
be getting this as a matter of fact. (I've encouraged
him to write the same story from his perspective and
hope he does, it would be interesting to read.)
Oh and one more thing. I kicked some butt on
the slopes Saturday. Even though my ski outfit looked
a little rumpled.
(Thank you David L. for your help in correcting
my terrible grammar and spelling)
(c) April 1998 Kristen Kathleen Becker
--
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |