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From: Spoonbender <Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk>
Subject: Room 416 (MF, Cons, Humor)
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 Room 416 (MF, Cons, humor)

***************************************************** c) 1998
Spoonbender. A short story of an adult nature. Not to be read by
minors. If you don't like this sort of stuff or you are underage then
don't read. Can be freely distributed as long as it is not changed,
including this heading. If it is archived  then please email me first
for permission and I want unrestricted access to the archive. It may
not be used as part of any fee paying service. Please note that the
characters in this story are completely fictional and bear no
resemblance to anyone living or dead. 

Please email me with comments, constructive criticism, fantasies you
want put into words etc. This is the first fully consensual story I've
ever written so I'd appreciate your comments. Don't flame me if you
don't like the content or you don't like my style.

******************************************************

Harry Percivale hiccuped lightly and giggled.  Whatever the hell that
stuff was, that the sales manager McIver had been handing out, it was
pretty damned good.  He only had a couple of glasses and yet he felt
like a million pounds, in fact he hadn't felt like this for years.
McIver claimed he'd brought it back with him from a recent sales trip
to Central Africa where it was used in various fertility rituals.  He
called it his 'jungle juice' and it would add a little sparkle to
them, he winked, as he poured each of the guys a generous measure.

"Well it shertainly hits the spot," chirruped Harry happily, as he
tried to negotiate his way through the maze of corridors in the old
hotel.

After a few wrong turns and apologising profusely to a statue he'd
walked into, he found his room.  He tried, unsuccessfully, for five
minutes to manipulate his key into the stubborn lock, all the while
cursing the damned fools who had obviously made the key too big to fit
the silly little hole.  Just as he was about to give up he tried the
door and, to his surprise, he found it was unlocked after all.
Obviously his wife had had a premonition about the state he would be
in and so, to avoid being woken by him banging on the door at some
unearthly hour of the morning, she had left it off the latch.

"Thanksh love," he muttered.

Inside the room was dark but he could just make out the lighter
shading of the bed and the indistinct outline of his wife.  Trying to
be quiet he crashed into virtually every piece of furniture in the
room as he tried to get undressed, finally falling in a heap as he
endeavored to pull his trousers off.

"Shit!" he muttered, as his wife moaned in her sleep.  But her
sonorous breathing resumed, so he obviously hadn't woken her.  He
crawled over to the bed and slid, as gracefully as he could, under the
covers.  

Her distinctive female smell had an amazing effect on him.  For the
first time in months he felt incredibly horny.  His erection was so
stiff that it kept tangling with the bedsheets.

He lay for a while and considered the implications.  He was so aroused
that he could have stuck it in a sheep if there happened to be one
handy.  What to do? What to do?

Finally he made up his mind.  She had been sniping at him for weeks
about her lack of a decent love life and now he had been presented
with a heaven-sent opportunity to assert himself again, and to
vigorously pleasure his wife.  His hand reached out and touched her
back.

"Mmmmm!" she murmured as he began a gentle massage, working his way
deftly along the length of her back from her neck to the swell of her
buttocks.  Emboldened by her lack of rejection he started to work his
hand around to the front and, in a trice, he had captured the hillock
of her breast.  Slowly and delicately he molded and massaged her,
occasionally stopping to tease her nipple thoughtfully.

"Ahhh!" she sighed as her nipples started to harden until they
attained the same level of arousal as his burgeoning penis.  He
started kissing the back of her neck and, when her nightgown got in
the way of his southward advance, he gripped it with both hands and
tore it bodily from her.

By now she was starting to come awake and was wallowing in the
feelings that he was arousing within her.  When he tore off her
nightgown she felt a thrill of perverse pleasure surge down her spine.
She had longed, secretly, for years that he would play the caveman on
her but he never had.  

Until now.

She could smell the booze on his breath but her natural propensity to
recoil from it was dulled by the fact that she was climbing the
heights of arousal, as he continued to kiss and fondle her.  He
reached her butt and she shivered with a delicious feeling of wild,
abandoned lust as he started to kiss her downy ass cheeks.  If only he
had known how long she had wanted him to do that.

Then he slowly pushed his finger inside her asshole and the sheer
perversity of it made her catch her breath.  But it was oh, so very,
very good that she did nothing to stop him.  Instead she murmured and
grabbed her pillow tightly with both hands.

His hand delved between her legs and, with a rare show of strength, he
forced them apart, laying claim to his ultimate prize, which lay
damply welcoming.  His finger teased ripples of shuddering pleasure
from her as he dallied and delved inside her rapidly wettening gash.
When the tip of the finger contrived to brush her clitoris she nearly
shot through the ceiling, such was the intense and overwhelming bliss.

She attempted to roll over.  In all her years of marriage she had
never known him to attempt it in any other way other than the 'proper'
way,  face to face, legs wide open, lying back and thinking of
England.  Now, it appeared, he had other ideas and his arm suddenly
snaked under her, around her waist, lifting her up so her bottom was
elevated and her gash presented invitingly wet and open to him.  She
felt so incredibly wanton, lying there, face buried in the pillow,
kneeling, with her legs wide open.

Harry had always wanted to try it this way, but he was sure that she
would say no.  But now, in his highly aroused state, he decided to
force the issue and to his amazement she gave him tacit approval by
allowing herself to be maneuvered like a doll.  He was so stiff now he
felt that the skin on his penis was going to split under the pressure.

He had to have her.  He just had to.  

He sought out her sex with the rubbery head of his penis then pushed
home.  The delicious feelings of her tightly gripping his cock made
his lust soar to new, uncharted, heights and helped to clear the fog
of his inebriation slightly.  He lingered for a brief moment, savoring
her, but an impatient wriggle of her hips reminded him of his duty and
he started to stroke.

He gripped the front of her thighs as he repeatedly pushed himself in,
only to withdraw and then pound in again.  He had read in one of his
men's magazines, that he kept in the garage because she frowned upon
them, that all women had a super sensitive spot inside their vaginas
and he tried, at one point, to concentrate his mind on where to find
it.  He pushed her back down with one hand, thus increasing the arc of
her spine as he continued to stroke deep.  His other hand crept around
in front of her and his thumb sought out her clitoris.  When it
started to rub the little nub in small circles, in time with his
thrusting, she went absolutely wild.  And, after only a few seconds
she crescendoed into a writhing, moaning, paradigm of towering,
uncaring lust as her orgasm hit her head on.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she cried into her pillow as his pounding
relentlessly continued.

After a few moments of respite her body again started mounting the
heights.  This was incredible.  He'd never been like this before.  He
was pure caveman, taking his pleasures greedily from her as she humped
frantically beneath him.

Their collective lust soared as his strokes became faster and faster.

Faster and faster.

Harder.

Deeper.

Until........

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!" he cried out, as he dumped his seed inside her.
The sudden warmth in the depths of her belly pushed her over the edge
again and she too, soared into the new, bright dawning of the most
intense orgasm she'd ever had in her life.

He held himself rigidly within her for long seconds as he pumped more
seed within her, his back arched, eyes closed, teeth gritted, hands
like claws.  Then, suddenly he seemed to lose his rigidity and he
collapsed off her and flopped down on his back, his chest heaving with
exertion.  

It took a few moments for them to regain their breath and when he
spoke it came croaking out.

"Thanks, June.  That was the best ever."

"JUNE!  Who the hell is June, Andy?"

"I might ask you the same question, who the hell is Andy?...... Er,
this is room 418, isn't it?"

*****************************************************

I'm trying out different styles and genres. So I'd appreciate your
comments on whether this works. Thanks.




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