Message-ID: <16806eli$9810280600@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/16806.txt>
From: "Little Devil" <little_devil@angelfire.com>
Subject: [Little Devil] Coming Home
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Reply-To: "Little Devil" <little_devil@angelfire.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Content-Type: text/plain;
charset="iso-8859-1"
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <001601be0254$dd2d6240$1284a6c3@default>
---------------
Coming Home
---------------
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
You know the stuff for disclaimers, so I don't know why everyone bothers
putting it in. Still, although this is pretty mild it isn't exactly a
kiddies story, so if you are under 18 you know what you are supposed to do
(like you'll pay attention to me!).
This is the first part of a story that is already planned out in my head,
it's just getting it down onto paper that's the problem. For that reason, I
need your feedback! Tell me what you think, and if you think I should keep
going, or go back to murdering things running round the Phobos lab.
I'm a new author, so be nice to me!
Why be nice? Naughty is much more fun!
- Little Devil
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
He'd only been up for three hours, and already today was up working its way
into the top ten worst days he'd had. He'd already put up with a mechanic
with more hair on his chin than his head looking at his car and sucking air
in between his teeth He'd watched with growing irritation at the sight of
his beautiful Toyota sports car being winched onto the back of the bright
orange recovery truck. With no car and no chance of cadging a lift from
friends, Nick was stuck and had been forced to over ride his fear of buses
to catch the airport coach. Within ten minutes his fears had been proved
well founded, as his private hell was accentuated with every junction the
driver approached and every old granny that was tailgated by this huge green
and white monster. Mile after mile of staring at the muddy green of the
English countryside flying past at 70 mph partially calmed his nerves,
followed by another half hour of staring at the back of the seat in front.
Finally the coach pulled up to a harsh stop, and let every one of the
slightly shell shocked passengers pile out of the doors, straight into the
airport lounge. Yet another of Nick's personal hells - hundreds of screaming
kids and cranky business men in crumpled suits filled just about every foot
of floor space, some looking for exits, some for loved ones, and most of the
rest were generally looking lost. Nick was supposed to fit into the second
of those groups, but right now the third was a pretty good contender too.
There's only one reason he'd even think about going through this. And the
arrivals board said she'd be another 45 minutes. Fun.
Making the most of a bad situation, Nick grabbed a coffee from the tired
looking girl behind the counter of the coffee bar, and settled down to watch
the seething mass of people filling the main concourse. Despite everything,
looking down on everyone was somehow relaxing - the apparently random
movement of people had an obvious pattern. People were going in two general
directions. The first group were heading from the entrance to the funnel of
empty floor that always formed around the arrivals doors. Every one of those
people were waiting for someone to come through that funnel, to welcome them
home or to drag them off to some meeting or other. The second (and
significantly larger) group was working it's way back from the funnel to the
buses or the car park.
It was down there that Claire would appear, and Nick was going to get to see
this woman that he loved for the first time in over a month. All too often
her job would drag her to foreign shores, leaving him alone while she
interpreted a speech on Mineral Recovery or whatever the hell it was she was
doing now. A month were his only company was made up of brief phone calls,
his right hand, and an active imagination. Still, her month of work would be
rewarded with another two weeks of paid vacation. At least, it would if he
ever found her in this place. How somewhere so uncluttered could be so
disorienting was anyone's guess.
He was just draining the slightly syrupy sludge from the bottom of the cup
when a hand snaked its way round his waist and a voice by his shoulder
somehow managed to sound seductive over the roar of noise.
"Hi babe... I managed to get an earlier flight!" Nick grinned as the sound
twisted his day into something he had waited 4 weeks for. "You know, I can
talk to your shoulder if you want, but I'd rather see your face."
He turned, and looked down into the smiling face and the deep brown eyes
that had first attracted him to this girl. A history of flying had taken its
toll on her, replacing her normal jeans or short skirts for just about the
most unflattering pair of sweat pants anyone could ever wear. No matter how
often he'd flown he still wore jeans that ended up cutting into his legs
after the first hour of any flight.
After a second they were kissing, tongues instantly probing each other
deeply without a thought of the masses charging around them.
"Hell it's great to have you back. I've missed you. Good flight?"
"Yeah, it was okay I guess - the flight was okay, but just look what I had
to look forward to!" Claire instincts made her flinch away just as hands
went to grab her and she headed off into the crowd.
Luggage in hand (and how the hell did women need so much luggage?) Nick
caught her up, and wrapped a free hand around her waist in time to aim the
two of them away from the car park, and toward the buses with only a mumble
of "Long story" as explanation.
Back on the bus again, but at least this time he had something other than
the verge to keep his mind from the suicide driving style of that he had to
look forward to. Claire wriggled into the window seat, and wrapped her arm
around his as they sat waiting for things to start. It was another 90 minute
trip back out to the small town they called home and Claire was all too
aware of the comfort she was going to have to give to keep Nick's mind off
the way the coach was being driven. Slightly sleepily she cuddled up, and
rested her head on his shoulder. All she managed was a brief "I love you
hon" before she started drifting off into the world of jetlag.
'Great. Just bloody wonderful.' went the voice in Nick's head. 'Here I am,
stuck on another damned coach, and she has to bloody fall asleep.' The voice
had a touch of annoyance to it, but the look of her against his side was
enough to calm it, and soothe his nerves at the same time. It had been a
long flight, and she was entitled to feel sleepy. Still, if the car hadn't
given up on him, they could have been parked in a quiet country lane getting
reacquainted by now. Right here there wasn't even a chance of a crafty grope
of her gorgeous chest without being seen. Or was there...?
Claire woke as a hand slowly edged it's way past the waistband of her sweat
pants and headed for the crotch of her underwear. She gasped as the hand ran
along the top edge of her knickers and started to walk its way down towards
her crotch. It felt great, but there were people all around them. She
reached out and lightly gripped Nicks arm.
"Hey... what are you doing! We'll get caught!" The words came out as more of
a lip reading exercise than words, but Nick got the idea. Even without
looking he could have made a pretty good guess at the message.
"No we won't because no-one is playing attention!" Nick whispered in her ear
as his hand kept edging it's way down her body to her crotch. The crotch of
her pants was being held to her panties by the dampness already down there.
"Hell you're hot! Pleased to be back are you?"
Claire giggled. She'd spent the last hour of the flight in a dream world,
fantasising about being alone with the bulge in those jeans. She was just
about to head off to the tiny toilet to finish herself off when the
stewardesses started telling people to put their belts on. No matter how
nicely she asked, the stewardess had forced her to stay put and suffer in
silence. All the way down she'd been getting progressively more turned on,
and by the time she'd got out of the plane she was convinced the man next to
her was able to smell the scent of her arousal. Even by her standards she
was soaking, and the wetness on her skin was making her feel uncomfortable.
Right now, those thoughts were shoved out of the way by thoughts of the fun
they could have at home.
Nick's hand was on the move again, and she stifled a gasp as he ran a finger
along the leg of her panties and the back up across the fabric, briefly
brushing a single finger across her clit. His touch was moulding the wet
fabric of her panties to her crotch, smoothing them across her pussy lips
and her pubic mound. And, fuck, it was turning her on as well... In the 4
years they'd been together they had played about in public before, but not
this close to any possible audience, and especially not with no way to
escape if they were caught! Right here and now though, she didn't care. The
lightness of his touch was mixing with the vibration of the engine was
sending delicious shocks from her crotch up her spine, and straight into her
brain.
Nick smiled as his probing fingers lifted the wet fabric from his goal, and
ran his fingers through the fine hair that covered her sex, and ran slowly
down towards source of all her excitement.
"Excuse me, my dear"
Both jumped as the voice interrupted their world, followed with a gasp as
their movement forced a stray finger against Claire's already erect clit.
The two of them looked up into the apologetic face that had appeared between
the seats in front of them.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you start. I was just wondered if you can
help. I've got a really nasty feeling that this isn't my bus. Do what number
this is?"
Nick laughed. "Yeah... it's the A320. We're over to the Motorway, and then
up toward Nottingham." The A320... it was sad really, but all the bus runs
seemed to be named after different types of planes. Some wit had decided to
name this one after an Airbus A320. Hell, if this was a plane it looked more
like it was flown by the Wright brothers!
Claire shuffled slightly to make sure the hand invading her crotch was
unseen by their new friend, and sighed as Nick started talking to this old
lady instead of doing what he was good at.
'Leave us alone,' thought Claire. Oh great, so the old dear was on the right
bus. Better still, she lived in the same town. Well that was the end of
finger sex then. Claire wriggled up against Nick's shoulder, and closed her
eyes, feigning sleep. It was one of the few times the height difference
between them never mattered. The foot or more difference in their heights
meant that even wearing heals it was more comfortable to rest her head on
his chest than it was to kiss when they were dancing. Oh gods those two were
getting worse. Nick was the spitting image of her grandson. Joy... The
question was, did her grandson have his hand in a girls underwear? This was
silly. Why didn't the old dear get herself sat back down and leave the two
of them alone. What she really wanted was...
Claire's gasped out loud. Shit, that was exactly what she wanted. She froze
as Nick's fingers resumed their light wanderings over her pubic mound, and
started tracing down the sides of her sex. Surely he wasn't going to try and
make her come while this old dear watched? The idea was disgusting. Old
people didn't have sex (despite the fact that her parents had kept her awake
many a night while she was growing up). And yet, in a way, she was more
upset with herself as she realised that the idea was turning her on.
Nick was still chatting easily with the old dear in front as Claire tried to
pull his fingers into her body. As if reading her mind, he dipped a
fingertip into her body, and slowly brought his cum soaked finger up to the
hood of her clit, the moisture letting his finger slide across the swollen
nub more easily. The searching fingers played across her, and dipping into
her body just enough to massage the flesh of her cunt. Every touch made her
hotter and wetter, the presence of this mad old lady somehow making every
touch a hundred times more exciting. The simplest of touches were bringing
her closer to that peak that she wanted, but there was no way that she could
come with this lady watching her every move. Using every trick that she
knew, Claire tried to ignore the attention, but it was almost as if Nick was
trying to keep the old girl talking.
With a sudden move, Nick pressed three fingers into her sex, and was trying
to move them deeper inside her. The intrusion was more than enough to get
things going, and she had to turn and bury her head in his shoulder to try
to stifle a groan as orgasm hit. Although he couldn't get his fingers
properly inside Claire's body, his fingers reacted against the pulsing of
her vaginal muscles, and forced her on through each wave.
"You're joking... I work there as well. What's his name?"
"Well my eldest is John, and the younger is Simon. He's more into the art
side of things though."
"John...? Oh yeah... I know him" Nick muttered. "works with the database
lot?"
How the hell could he be doing this? Three fingers were working in and out
of her pussy while talking about this woman's grandsons. With her head still
buried in his shoulder, Claire tried to regain her composure. Nick carefully
used her panties to clean her girlcum from his fingers, tickling her pubes
as he did it.
Claire lifted her head, and peered bleary eyed at the woman still talking to
her boyfriend.
"You back with us again my love?" asked Nick, and gently kissed her cheek.
God was he going to pay for this later.
Do I bother making him pay for it, or shall I just bin this 'ere story?
You're the audience, so you tell me...
--
+----------------' 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>