Message-ID: <15988eli$9810042012@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/15988.txt>
From: november919@hotmail.com
Subject: ST: Wet 1/1 mf oral, f mast, 100% true, actual plot
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <6uculv$iic$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com>

The rest of my stories are available
at
November's Erotica
www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/
Underground/3193

Wet 1/1

Author's note:  This story is 100%
true.  It is the property of
November.    Distribution is
encouraged as long as it is not
plagarized.

Wet (1/1)

by November Tuesday


You don't deserve me .

There's a spark there, under the
blue haze of your eye, and it is
clouded and numbed. It makes you
beautiful when you stare off into
the sky, endless reflections catching
it, firm brows, pink mouth
tight and masculine and screaming
when you cum d eep inside of me.
When you came. You
come, then you are gone, back
somewhere under the clouds.

I don't have the tolerance for this,
and with age and with having
suffered at the hands of careless
lovers, I don't have the energy for
this shit.< P> This last time was
nice. You came to my window
and leaned down. I stayed quiet and
let you speak. You want me to come
over. You want to come. I
know it though you don't say it. But
its no longer exciting, that knowing.
I want to hear it.

So I come over, and deadpan in your
usual maddening style you tell me to
get naked. Finally. I
pull my tee shirt over my bare body
and your hands instantly find my
breasts. your hands are
warm and like magnets they are on
me, tweaking, circling, pi nching,
making me shiver. I moan
and my head falls to the side. My
hair falls into the hollow of my
neck, warm on my skin. In so
many words, you tell me to leave my
panties on.

I fall down on the mattress and you
follow, and your touch is warm li ke
sun on my skin. I shiver
visibly from my nipples through to
my spine as your hand runs over the
curve of my breast. I am
wettening and swollen under my
panties and as you continue to stroke
the hollow of my waist I
writhe briefly in another shudder,
pressing my legs tight together.
"Damn, girl!" you say, and I am
thinking of how a perfect man, or at
least a better one, would have more
satisfaction in my
reaction. Savor it as his own, and
get hard from it. But then you are
kissing me, lips warm an d
sensual on my own, and my fingers
are pulling your hair loose so that it
falls over your freckled
shoulder and down to tickle my
skin. You have promised to jerk off
for me, and as I watch with a
heavy gaze your hand drifts
absently to the hardness un
derneath your underwear. Your
thumb
caresses it, and the motion is so
fluid and sensual and beautiful that
when you realize that I am
watching, you pull away. I smile,
wordless, and put your hand back.
You lift your hips to remove
the underwear and the n you are
lying spread, hand lazily grazing
your cock, lightly down around
your balls, and I moan in
appreciation, encouragement, and
the wetness seeping even more from
inside me at the sight of it. I watch,
smiling, as you forget me, and you
begin to graze your fist over
its insistent pink length, and your
body finds its own familiar motion.
Your head thrown back to
the side with knitted brows and
open lips quickens my breathing and
I myself want to stroke,
gently, the furrow under my panties.
You , panting, beg me to suck it. Your
penis has a gravity all
its own, a warmth, and as I hover
down over it, moving between your
legs, letting you feel my
breath on your thighs and testicles
and hard, prone, ready cock. I dust
my tongue over the skin
wher e the head begins abd pulls
tight the shaft, in a lazy wet circle.
Gliding wetly, over and over, I
suck you, holding tight around the
base of it as it throbs hard more and
more, and I pull it into my
mouth where its top fits perfectly
against the roof of my mouth. My
fingers on your balls, tickling,
swirling through the hair. You are
moaning and your head falls back
and forth. I suck until my jaw
begins to stiffen and ache, and then
I swing one leg over you and hover
above your straining cock
as your blue eyes open in wonder
like a baby's.

Then, I am sliding, tight, so wet,
down over you. Your hands on my
waist push down. I smile and
narrow my eyes and pull up. You
look at me with exasperation.
Hovering just around the tip, a
circle of madde ning wetness. I can
feel the warmth of your legs on the
inside of my own, the
texture of the hair that startled me
more than anything when I lost my
virginity - that feeling,
more than the pain, of a man's leg
hair on the bottoms of my feet.
With my le gs I hold your hips
down, and slowly circle my hips,
the wet lips of my cunt mouthing
your cock. Then, I fall and
down and deep to the hilt my
breath huffs out of me sharply - you
are fucking me. I am fucking
your cock hard, up and down, and
your hands rise to guide me and
push me like your toy up and
down on your throbbing cock. I smile
like a cat and clench deep inside,
and you are tossing your
head back and forth, moaning, eyes
half-lidded and rolling back, and
then with my legs I pull
completely of f of you , leaving cool
air on our skin where it had been- it
is time.

I roll over onto my back and pull
you, and wordless you follow,
pressing down and rooting
between my legs, and I spread, and
pull you to me with my ankles, and
moan and moan and cry
out with how incredibly full I feel
as your cock is stuffed inside. You go
in and out slowly, hard, so
hard that my head is moving back
and forth on the pillow, so hard
that you are fucking my entire
body up and down with the motion
of your hips. Y ou are throwing back
your head and biting your
lip and making pained noises and
your mouth opens and grimaces and I
clench you as hard as I
can, so hard my own face contorts,
and I know you feel it and know it
and then you are screaming,
slamming in viol ently, and for long
seconds you move in, then out, and
then slowly in again,
relishing each inch which clutches
your spasming shooting cock.

Moments of breathing, just
breathing, as if you were starved for
air and I run my fingers through
the filmy sweat down your back,
through your silken hair, down over
your quivering body.

Then you get up, and with concern
you pull yourself out of me so that
there isn't a wet spot on the
sheets, and then you stand up. You
pull two tissues from the table and
with one wipe down your
dick, and before you can reach out
with the other I say "don't even
hand that to me."

But so that I don't drip everywhere,
although that is what my aching,
swollen cunt wants to do, I
get up in one smooth movement a nd
walk to the bathroom with my legs
pressed tigh together,
anger rising in me. I wipe it out,
then return to the bed. You,
however, have sat down in the
chair
and with the same worried
concentration you are watching TV.

No, come here. No, make me cum. I
need it so much right now. Hey - it's
not over, where are you
going?

I lie down and spread and open the
lips of my cunt. Switch on the
vibrator and so gently hold it
close. So delicate I can only feel the
air fluttering around it. I press it
closer. My eyes close. Around,
slowly. Fingers dipping into our
mingling wetness. I open my eyes
and look at you. You are
watching TV.

Blue eyes staring, reflecting blue
water, fishes undersea, swimming
on the TV screen. I am wet wa
nting so much to cum. You are sitting
away from the bed now, watching
the TV, eyelids heavy. Are
you going to sit there and watch
TV? I switch off the vibrator and
stretch my fingers. I should
leave. Same damn diving footage
we were watching a half h our ago,
looped, only then you were
inside me to the hilt. A new, strong,
young voice inside of me says "Go.
Go home. Go home and
light some candles and play the
same CD and get yourself off. He
doesn't deserve even to be in
your presence."

But I don't want a scene. And I don't
want to leave. And I want to cum.
Now.

And if I continue, and lose him in my
cries as I come hard, and then leave,
well then, what power
could that hold?

I can't concentrate, with the worry
of my thighs a nd humiliation of
being ignored and spread
open. I'm spreading in defiance, I
remind myself, and I push the
button. The hum returns. You do
not even look up. I close my eyes
tight, focus on the images until I am
alone, and they surround
me, and you a ren't there except for
being a presence I am defying. I try
to picture the way you
looked, three minutes ago as you
stroked your cock with your head
thrown back, the image that
made me so wet, and that image is
fading somehow. it is just as well. I
wil l give my orgasm life in
spite of you and then leave you
alone.

I am lying spread wide and I don't
permit myself to move. I spread
myself far though my hands are
tired from exertion, and I let the
vibrator graze the pink folds of my
clit. Tease. Because in the long
run, having an orgasm is not work,
but falling off a log. Ideally, a
woman should not have to work
to forget about her inhibitions. A
woman should be nothing but rapt in
the halo of her own
orgasm.

My brows knit, harder, force me to
focus on the warmth tingling there
and of the wetness flowing
to join wetness like a delta between
my legs. My clit is swollen into a
little nub under the skin.
With the edge of the vibrator I
graze it, flutter back and forth. A
sensation in my v agina, which
normally is no sensation at all,
grows and I realize that the muscles
inside are clenching upon
themselves. The feeling draws a
line up and through my clit, and
then I know I am home free, I
have conquered, I moan and am
peripherally aware t hat you are
waking up, and my cunt is
spasming and bursting into such joy
that I am moaning, breathing and
moaning, crying louder and
louder. I turn my head toward the
window, and when I click the
vibrator off I stare dazed at the
ceiling. A few seconds later, wobbly
legs, I get up. You are speechless in
your chair.

"Don't get up." My voice even, but
sharp. Where are my jeans?
Kitchen. I pick them up, then back
to where my panties lie in front of
you. Pick those up, and on with my
shirt. "S orry to interrupt
your show." Sit down opposite you
and put on my shoes. You haven't
moved from your chair or
your underwear. You watch me
bustle around. I pack my things and
say "good night."

But you are looking at the spot on
your sheet, darkene d to a rich
cranberry color in an oval shape
where I had laid. I point out that
part of that is your cum but my
bitterness is not due to your
rejection of all the things flowing
from me but how, in private, I
cherish the wetness that swells,
crests and l ingers between my legs.

You begin to rise, slow, to walk me
out. "Don't bother getting up." I
clutch my keys and mutter
something about just being friends,
trying to keep anger out of my voice.
I need to be lying still, my
legs feel like water, but I say
goodbye and negotiate the fire door.
My legs are unsure and
incompetent. There has been rain in
the alley and the scent is sharp and
earthen. Down the alley
for the last time like this, braless
and still wet between my legs.

Back home, my stereo is still
playing. I put on the record called
Passion and play it loud as I go back
about my life, oblivious to the irony
of it. I feel a bit sore around the
edges but its better to wait
alone for passion and the sting of its
lack than to be wi th someone,
comparing their faded colors to
the vision you wait for in your heart
of hearts. Someday, I will
appreciate the strength and
brilliance of my actions. Because
through my worry about myself and
my thighs and my worth, the
fact is as hard and real as silver in
my hand that you do not deserve
the sex I can give you, not half
of it or one tenth of it.

Part of the reason I have so much to
give is that I can have it alone, in
and of myself. When I take
off my clothes and I am again naked
in my own sheets, my hands cup my
breast and my thigh and
they are soft and I am enough, and I
sleep in peace.



-- 
+----------------' 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>