Message-ID: <7297eli$9801151857@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7297.txt>
From: Morg105829 <Morg105829@aol.com>
Subject: Kathy I-1
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
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: <52a2832b.34bcaad6@aol.com>
To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us
From: morg105829@aol.com
Subj: "Kathy" I-1 (145 lines)
This is my first effort at posting on A.S.S.M. It is the first section of a
book that runs 26 chapters. Whether or not the rest is posted depends on the
reaction or lack of one to this effort. Comments (of any kind) will be
appreciated. Contact me at morg105829@aol.com. Although this is
substantially more tame than many postings on A.S.S.M., the usual disclaimers
apply. Permission is granted to repost, but only on non-commercial sites.
Please inform me if you do so.
"Kathy"
(c) 1991, 1998 by Morgan.
Book I
Chapter 1
Kathy Smith was doing something different tonight, having just quit her
job. She visited Charley's, a bar she owned in town. Normally, she would sit
at a table, but tonight she wanted to talk to Charley. She was sitting at the
corner of the bar nursing a club soda with a lime. It was nearly eleven
o'clock on a Friday night in Norfolk, Virginia. The crowd was, as usual,
almost all Navy personnel. Located across from the main gate of the Naval
Base, it was a primary hangout for sailors. After all, Norfolk was the
headquarters facility of the entire U.S. Atlantic Fleet. Charley, the
manager and ostensible owner, was protective of Kathy. He was tending bar
while looking over the crowd. Although he made a point of keeping the stool
next to hers free, while he was at the other end of the bar a naval officer in
uniform sat on the stool next to hers. Although he wore the rank of
commander, he looked like a wreck. His uniform looked like it had been slept
in despite the man looking like he hadn't slept in days. Charley didn't like
it, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The officer looked dead
tired, but he was still about six feet three, and appeared to weigh something
better than two hundred pounds. He was more than Charley cared to take on.
Kathy looked at the officer and felt a unique sensation surge through her.
Without conscious thought, she turned and said, "You look like you lost your
last friend."
Charley saw what was happening and was astonished. This was the first time
Kathy had ever spoken to anyone in the place except for himself and a few of
the staff. For that matter, she seldom came in at all.
Kathy Smith was a built like a dream: five feet seven, with a figure and
movements like an athletic model. Although not apparent from her present
conservative dress, Charley knew she had a perfect figure. Tonight she was
wearing a camel's hair skirt, cashmere sweaters, and a simple gold chain. 'As
usual,' Charley thought, 'She looks like a million bucks.'
Kathy continued looking at the stranger and feeling the strange sensation.
The officer tried to focus on her. "I don't like women!"
"Why not?" she asked quietly.
"They're all bitches!"
"All of them?"
"I guess so... at least my ex-wife is. She's a real bitch."
"Have you eaten?" Kathy asked. 'My God! what am I doing!?' she wondered.
"I guess so, but I can't remember exactly when."
"Today?"
"I'm not sure."
"Would you like to take a ride?"
"Let's go."
Kathy got up off her stool and gave Charley a private wink on the way out.
Charley just shook his head in amazement. She and the officer went around the
corner of the building to her car, a new BMW 635 CSi. She unlocked it and
said, "Hop in."
"Is this *yours*?"
"Yes."
"The B-girl business must be better than I thought. I had better warn you,
though: I don't have any money. What little my ex-wife didn't get, my lawyer
did."
Kathy gave him an icy look. "Thanks a lot."
Kathy started the BMW up and drove off, smoothly shifting up through the
gears. After leaving the Expressway, she drove in a circuitous route to an
office-apartment complex in Virginia Beach. At a gate, she reached for an
electronic controller, pressed the button and the gate swung open. Beyond the
courtyard a garage door was automatically rising. She drove into the garage
and shut off the engine.
"Hop out. We're here."
"Where is here?" he asked.
"My place. Come on up." She took a key from her purse and put it into a
wall switch. The steel door in front of them slid open revealing a wood-
paneled elevator car. They got in and Kathy pushed an unmarked button. As
she did, she turned to her companion and held out her hand. "Let me introduce
myself. My name is Kathy Smith."
"Hi. I'm Ken Stark." He shook hands and was surprised at the firmness of
her grip.
The elevator door smoothly slid open revealing a quietly decorated entrance
hall. To their right was the main entrance to the apart ment. They went on
through the living room to the kitchen with Kathy turning on lights as she
went. "What would you like? I could whip up a couple of steaks and a salad,
if that's okay."
"That sounds great," Ken replied.
Kathy noticed that Ken was starting to relax. She noticed laugh lines now
appearing when he smiled. It was obvious that his depressed attitude was not
his normal condition. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable? Would you
like to fix yourself a drink?"
"Sure. What do you have and where do you keep it?"
"Just about everything, and it's in the bar over there."
Ken looked and saw a fully-equipped wet bar located between the living room
and another room he guessed to be the library. "I think I'll just have a
beer. What can I get you?"
"I'll join you. There's Sam Adams in the refrigerator."
He opened the refrigerator and found at least six brands of beer. Most
were imported. He found the Sam Adams and opened two bottles. "Do you want a
glass?"
"Please. They're in the cabinet right above you."
Ken found the beer glasses in a chiller paneled to appear to be a piece of
furniture. He poured the beers and returned to the kitchen. "All the
comforts. I've never seen a place with so many. The B-girl business is
*much* better than I thought."
"That's the second time you've said that, and I didn't appreciate it the
first time. Actually, I'm a lawyer."
"Business must be pretty good. How old are you, anyway?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm twenty-six. How old are you?"
"How old am I, or how old do I feel?"
"Both."
"Well, I guess my driver's license says I'm thirty-one; I just feel like
I'm 110." While they talking Kathy was preparing two gorgeous steaks. "Do
you like spicy food?"
"I guess so. Why?"
"I'll try something different, then. Tell me about your problems."
"I would rather not. It would just bore you and infuriate me."
"Would you like to clean up a bit? You look like you've been going for
days. Come on, I'll show you where." Ken allowed himself to be led to the
master bedroom and then into a bathroom off it.
"Good grief! I've never seen anything quite like this." He
stopped and stared like a bumpkin. The bathroom was larger than most
bedrooms. It had two sinks, a shower, a tub the size of a small swimming pool
and opened out through glass doors to a private swimming pool area beyond.
The area was beautifully landscaped and surrounded with a palisade-type fence
about ten feet high providing complete privacy in all directions except from
directly overhead. Ken turned to Kathy, "What floor are we on?"
She grinned. "The sixth. Why?"
"Just asking. I thought it was impossible to put a swimming pool up this
high."
"It can be done. It just takes money."
"Obviously."
Kathy left Ken alone in the bathroom after showing him where a full array
of men's toiletries were kept. Ken continued to look around in amazement.
His wife had been a world-class slob, particularly in the bathroom. There
were always undies, makeup, tissues and other debris lying around. Ken
thought about taking a shower, but didn't feel like getting back into his
dirty clothes. He realized he looked terrible. Taking off his tunic -- he
was wearing his officer's whites -- Ken decided to settle on a wash and a
shave. A whore's bath would have to do. He noticed that all the men's
toiletries were Polo by Ralph Lauren. Since every container was the same
shade of green, it took a few moments to figure out which was which. He
washed, shaved, splashed on some cologne and started to feel human again.
After dressing again he returned to the kitchen.
"Feel better?" Kathy asked. "You certainly look and smell better, at least
if you like the fragrance of Polo. I do."
"Who's stuff is that? Isn't your boyfriend going to be pissed when he
finds a stranger has been using his things?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"Then what is it there for?"
"For you to use. And you just did. Let's eat. I didn't think I was
hungry until I started cooking. Now I'm famished."
"Good grief! It's almost two o'clock."
"As I said, let's eat," Kathy repeated with a smile.
They sat down at a counter built as a part of the kitchen cabinets. The
two steaks looked beautiful; they had been Cajun blackened. Along with baked
potatoes, there was a beautiful salad. Ken went to the bar and returned with
two more beers. The dinner passed without conversation. When they finished,
Kathy told Ken to go into the living room and sit down while she cleaned up.
He sat down on the sofa and that was the last thing he remembered.
--
+--------------' 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>