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From: charl32@hotmail.com (Charlie)
Subject: rp: deirdre - Desire
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I am not the author - this is merely a repost






Desire
by deirdre, 1/2/96

Oh, yes it felt good.  I pulled on my knees until my rear was practically off
the bed.  I looked at Conner as much as I could, given my state.  I managed
to keep my eyes steady and watched his face as he slid in and out of
me--it was so easy to tell he was overcome.  Yes it's nice to be appreciated.
And especially nice with your husband like that.  All in all, a fine way to
start the day.

I have to admit I was feeling good that day and I'm hoping not many of my
coworkers thought too much about my gratuitous smiles.  In fact, knowing
Conner was getting off work early, I knew I was just going to have to manage
to get home early myself.

I walked through the house to find it empty, spotted Conner in the back yard,
and headed out to ambush him.  But just before I reached the door, I noticed
he was talking to Patricia.  Our next door neighbor.

I should have gone out anyway, but something in me made me stop.  The devil
inside me, no doubt: Patricia is certainly something to look at and I must
admit that part of me didn't like her and Conner talking like that.  I stood
inside the door, watching.

And watched her lead Conner into her own house!  I *knew* it had to be
innocent, but obviously the back of my mind wasn't going to sit still for
*that*.  Once again I yielded to temptation and quietly followed them to
Patricia's back door.  I stood at the door, finding I had a clear view of
them
and could hear them too.  So I hid myself as best I could while continuing to
watch.

*What was I thinking*?  Yes, it was stupid of me, but my worries were not
without foundation, it turned out.  They *weren't talking*.  They should have
been, but they were just standing there, looking at each other.  No, it
didn't
quite make sense to me: they should either be conversing or, well, getting on
with it--as it was, they just looked at each other strangely.

"Come on, get with it," Patricia finally said.

"No," was Conner's reply, uncharacteristically mumbled.

Patricia started to laugh, but stopped abruptly.  "You know you will."
Conner didn't reply, but just stood there.  I realized that he wasn't
really meeting
her eyes.  "You'd better not keep him waiting.  You *know* you like it."  I
could almost hear the smile in her voice even though I couldn't see her face
that clearly.

"No, please!"  Conner's voice was low and pleading.  I stayed hidden,
confused.

"Now!  You *like* it."  Nothing.  Then: "Don't make him angry."

Then it happened.  Conner just started unbuckling his belt!  In fact, he got
completely undressed right there in front of her.  It was strange because she
just stood there, watching and he looked so embarrassed about it.  I couldn't
believe it was Conner I was watching doing this!  "Good boy," I heard
Patricia say with a slight giggle.

Then Jim came downstairs!  Conner was just standing there, naked as Jim came
in the room.  "You rarin' to go?" he asked, obviously to Conner.  Conner
still stood there, silent.  Then Jim took hold of Conner by the neck and
pushed him
over to their table and leaned him over it!  I couldn't believe the way
Conner just let him do that: it just wasn't like him.  Even if Jim was
bigger than
him, I couldn't imagine Conner letting anyone push him around like that.

And there was Conner, leaning over the table, naked!  Jim unzipped himself!
"You ready, Darlin?" he said.  Patricia walked over to the table right up to
Jim.  Suddenly she grabbed his head and pulled him into a kiss!  She'd
grabbed him by the hair!  I realized as they continued to kiss that he was
holding
her hair too and he finally pulled her head away, still by the hair.  As they
separated, she still had her tongue out which she licked his lips with until
she could no longer reach him.

She giggled again, and said "Have fun," and they separated.  Then she grabbed
Conner by the hair and lifted his head.  "You be a good boy and you'll get
what *you* want," she said.  She lowered his head again, then put her hand on
the back of his neck for a second.  They just stood there like that and she
giggled again.  Then she walked out through the front of the house.

"OK, Darlin', you ready?" said Jim as soon as she was gone.  Conner didn't
make a sound, and suddenly Jim slapped his rear.  The sound startled me.
Then he was leaning over Conner's back, grabbing his hair, and talking
almost into
his ear: "I don't hear you."

Then he was standing again, and he grabbed both Conner's hips with his hands.
"I said: you ready?"

"Yes," came Conner's voice.

"You want this?"  No answer.  "We both know the answer's 'yes'."

"Yes."

Suddenly there was another slap, then Jim immediately shoved himself into
Conner's rear!  I could hardly believe my eyes: it was the last thing I ever
expected of Conner.  "What's your choice?  Rough or easy?"  Nothing.  "Come
on, I haven't got all day!"

"Rough."  There was something weakish about Conner's voice.  It was so
uncharacteristic.

"That's my Darlin'.  You'd better beg."  As he said the last sentence, he
grabbed Conner's hair again, lifting his head.  "Start beggin'."

"Please!"

"Please do what?"

"Please fuck me rough!"

"You need that?"

"Yes!  Yes, fuck me!"

Jim started moving.  But he moved slowly.  "I'm going to give it to you nice
and slow at first, just because I want to."  He slowly drew and pushed, over
and over.  "You like that, Darlin'?"

"Yes!"

"But you want it rough?"

"Yes!"

"I *like* to hear you beg."

I slipped away quietly, not able to take it any more.  Back in the house, I
got something to drink and just sat there in the living room, the image still
in my mind.  Something was making me want to go back and watch some more, but
something else kept me glued to that chair.  I sat there for about ten
minutes, then went out the front door, got back in my car and left.

I returned to show up at my usual time, or perhaps a few minutes late.  I
looked at Conner.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  He kissed me.  He has
a way.  Though my mind was racing with its memories, everything was exactly
right and I not only went through the motions, but felt everything I should
with him.  It seemed like a different man than the one I'd seen that
afternoon.  I was probably seeming a little distracted that evening, but
amazingly enough, it didn't seem to be bothering me in any way that mattered
to us.  We did it that night.

The next day was Saturday and I found myself weeding my garden in the back and
there was Jim in their backyard.  Conner was off somewhere.  Jim was working
for a while and then sat down, apparently just to sunbathe or something.  He
was in shorts with no shirt.  I couldn't help glancing at him a few times--
those memories still stirred in my mind.  He was definitely muscular, making
Conner look ordinary by comparison.  I glanced over again to find him
standing right at the fence looking at me!

"You checking me out?" he asked.

"Uh, no!"

"Now I *saw* those glances," he said and laughed a little.  I didn't know
what to say: I should have smiled brazenly or joked or something, but I
just knelt
there tongue-tied for three seconds too long.  Suddenly he had vaulted over
the fence and was coming my way.  "You interested in me?" he asked.

"No!" I replied.  I started to stand.  I backed up a step as he approached,
but he came right up to a foot away from me.  I had to look almost straight
up to face him.

"I think you are," he said.  He had this smirk about him--as if he just knew
I couldn't resist him or something.  A part of me wanted to slap his face.  I
felt his hand on my chin--he was holding my chin!

I backed off and headed for the house.  I felt like a coward, but I just
wanted to get away from him.  But as I walked into the back door, he was
coming in with me.  I found myself in the kitchen, backed against the table,
looking up at him again, though he wasn't so close as before.

"You want me, don't you?" he said.

"No!"

"Yes you do.  Admit it."

It was time to refuse again--to insist.  But I just stared at him.  I
detected just a slight smile on his face which he seemed to hide.  "Say:
'yes'" he
said.

I still just stared at him.  "Say 'yes'" he repeated, in a slightly vocal
whisper.

"Uh..."  I *should be saying no*!  I was so tongue tied.  Then he smiled what
looked like a satisfied smile and approached me.  I stared up at him, still
backed against the table.  I should have moved sideways, away from there.
Then he had my head in his hands.

"Do you like it rough?" he asked.  I still didn't answer.  He put a finger on
my lips and sort of played with them a second.  Then he lifted me onto the
table and pulled off my shorts.  And my underpants.  "Your choice: rough or
easy?  *Answer*!"

"Rough!"  He'd nearly screamed the last word at me and I answered before I'd
thought!  Suddenly I found myself face-down over the edge of the table.  Then
his cock pressed against my rear!

I felt him press a little, but not hard.  Then his voice was in my ear:
"You'd better beg me."

Nothing.  I didn't answer.  But he started pressing harder.  I felt it,
there, pressing.  "Aren't you going to beg me?"

Still just pressing, but not hard enough to enter me.  I couldn't stand just
lying there, him just pressing like that.  "Please!" I said.

"Please what?"

"Please fuck my ass!"

"Hard?"

"Yes, yes, hard!"

He pressed harder and I felt him enter.  But he was still so slow.  He slid
into me.  I realized that somehow he had to be lubricated--was he prepared
for
this?  "*I* want to take it *slow* for a while," he said.

He slipped into me slowly, then started to draw out slowly.  Then in, then
out, all ever-so-slowly.  "Want more?" he whispered.

"Yes!"

"More what?"

"Fuck me!  Hard!  Now, please!"

"No," and he giggled softly, still going so slowly.  Then I found myself
reaching behind myself to grab his hips and pulling him hard into me, and
making him do me faster.  He laughed again, and started going fast himself:
"That's my little neighbor-slut," he said, over and over again.

I came.  And came--I never would have though I could come from that.  "Oh,
you *definitely* like it," he said, obviously detecting my state.  I felt him
coming in me at the same time.

Then he was out of me.  He pulled me back up by the hair and then was
whispering in my ear: "you *definitely* like it rough, don't you?"  Suddenly
my ass stung and I realized he'd slapped it, hard.

He was out the door before I turned around.  I cleaned up and showered before
Conner returned.

That night Conner and I lay in bed.  I knew we were going to make love.  Once
again, somehow those other memories didn't affect how I felt about him.  He'd
kissed me.  Yes, he can definitely kiss.  He was lying on his side next to
me,
toying with my breasts, looking at them.  I looked at his face.

I was struck by a though and found myself talking before I knew it: "Ever
wonder about Jim and Patricia?"  I asked.

"What."

"Well, how they do it?"  He didn't answer.  "You think he does it rough
with her?"

"Jim and Patricia?"  I could see his mind racing--he'd repeated their
names just to stall for time.

"Yes," I answered.

"Yeah, they do it rough."  I wondered if he were speculating.  Something in
me really wanted to know.

"How do you know?  Are you sure?"

"Trust me.  They *definitely* do it rough."

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