Message-ID: <14473eli$9808151925@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/14473.txt> From: "Seurat" <seurat7@enter.net> Subject: {ASSM} Celestial Contest: Virtual addiction, by Seurat 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: <01bdc881$86c907e0$af10aacc@seurat7> Virtual Addiction a typical [short] story by Seurat Sex. Not 'making love'. Sex. Hot, raw, sweaty. Smooth feminine skin abraded by rough hairy male skin. Smells, tastes, sights, sounds, touches that convey. John sat on the faded plaid couch, worn leather straps cracking under his weight and a permanent impression where he liked to put his behind. He was dressed in his typical television -watching clothes: loose boxer shorts covered by an old terrycloth bathrobe that once held a print of some kind but was now so threadbare that the colors were no longer distinguishable. Hot sex. Sweating bodies caught up in passion, moving in rhythm. Sheets pulled away from the mattress. In his right hand is a can of cold beer. So cold that his fingers are going numb. Just the way he likes it. In his left hand is the remote control which, unlike the 'typical' male, he has not used for some time. He likes the seventies era game show that flickers across his cathode ray box. He wouldn't dream of changing channels. Thrusting and pulling, two bodies reach for orgasm, their momentum growing and growing. The grunts, cries, and the sounds of pounding flesh fill the air. A smile comes over his face. Virtual addiction was the catch phrase the psychiatrists were throwing about nowadays, and he had it. He openly admitted it. Given the chance, he would stay in the virtual world forever, leave the real one behind. He took a long draw form the beer and rested the can on his 'beer' belly. What an appropriate name, he thought, and smiled to himself. She is too beautiful; any man's wet dream. A body constructed by science, her lips are too full, waist too slim, and breasts too firm to be natural, but they still look good. Make that incredible. That and the fact that she's willing to do anything required of her. No, not required. She's willing to do anything asked of her. John takes another drink and tries to guess the answer that is stumping the panel of celebrities. He's seen the show before, and should know the answers, but always seems to forget. The guy with the sideburns and the wide tie will answer correctly, he knows. She arches her back in climax, muscles tensing, juices dripping, clenching the maleness between her legs to wring it dry. It is her job, her secret passion, to be more than they can handle, so they always come back for more. Her breathing starts to calm as the rush leaves her. John notices his toenails need clipping, and wonders if he will ever get around to it. He finishes the beer and opens another. Psychiatrists don't know what they are talking about. He could stop any time he wanted to. It's just that he doesn't want to. It is an escape, a diversion that he doesn't want to live without. That he can't live without. She lies on the bed, waiting for John to appear again. Everything is perfect: her hair, her makeup, her body. She will conquer him this time. She has new tricks to heighten his ecstasy. It is almost his time, and this time he will not win. A buzz in another room, probably from a clock, brings John back to his alcohol-dimmed senses. It is time. Again. He wishes down deep that he could break his addiction and rescue himself, but he knows he is far too weak. The buzzer rings a second time, beckoning him. Resigned, he gets off the couch for the first time in hours, and stumbles into the other room where a simple black box with a red button awaits. That is all that is in the room with the featureless grey walls. All that needs to be in the room. He hesitates at first, then pushes the button. She lies on the bed, still waiting. "Where have you been?" "In the other world," he replies. "You know, people can become addicted virtual reality stuff," the director interrupts. "Maybe you should cut back a little, like the shrinks said. What do you do in there, anyway?" "It lets me get away, to a different place." "Never mind, I really don't want to know what type of perverted world you have constructed for yourself. Now, this is the big finale scene. First, Tanya is gone suck you until you're good and hard. Take her in the pussy first, then in the ass. That's when Candy is gonna come in and slide her vibrator into your ass while she sucks on you balls. Nod twice when you're ready to come, so I can move one of the cameras in tight. Pull out and spray it all over Candy, okay? Ready everybody? Let's try and get this on one take! Lights! Camera! Action!" *end* -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>