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From: john_dark@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {MarArch}JDR"Mid Afternoon Delights"( M-solo F-solo voy exhib )[1/1]
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The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas
that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
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matters that you find distasteful. Caveat lector; you read at your own
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========
3) This work is copyright by the author. Any use of this work is
permitted as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and this
paragraph remain on the story.
This is one of a series of stories written to amuse a good friend...
========
Mid Afternoon Delights
MarArch
MarArch@ix.netcom.com
The day wore on, slowly, through noon and into the slow hours of the
long, sinking sun. She was alone, as she ever was on these seemingly
endless spans of mid-afternoon drudgery. But something inside her was
restless and seemed to whisper to her toward some kind of motion... go
somewhere, anywhere... don't waste another afternoon like you have all the
others before it.
But she had no plans, no goals, nothing to draw her from the dark,
comforting shell of her apartment, with its light, cool breezes and its
drawn shades and its enfolding oneness.
She decided to pick up a book and perhaps lose herself in it for a
while, letting her mind skip over the open fields of someone else's
imagination. But before she had scanned the first paragraph, she realized
that it was hopeless. She was hopeless. And restless. And in need of
something, though what, she could not figure out.
She rose, suddenly, as if having come to some decisive conclusion,
slipped her feet into the shoes, waiting by the door, scooped up the book
and the key to her apartment and walked out, into the hall. She had
decided. She had to get out, if only for a little while, a brief escape.
The park was large, wide and flat, and ringed by trees through which
small dirt trails twisted and wound. At first she thought it might be nice
to settle on a bench, feel the gentle breeze through her hair and abandon
herself to the images in the volume that dangled from her hand, but the
restlessness pulled at her and she began to wander, aimlessly, like an
athelete walking out the kinks before some desparate contest.
About halfway along the well maintained trail that ringed the edge of
the park, skirting the dark rim of enfolding trees, she spotted him.
He was standing far ahead of her, on the path, in her way, a mere
indistinct shape on which she could not make out any detail... a man...
young, or so he seemed, his body, clad only in the t-shirt and tight
shorts, well muscled legs and large, hard chest. His hair, glinting in the
sun and whispering that it was the color of a buttercup and as fine as spun
gold. Thoughtlessly she found herself wondering if he had a nice, tight
ass, and she smiled, a secret, wicked smile. But she could not tell if he
did or not because he was currently turned... to face... was looking at
her... examining her as she was examining him.... to distant strangers,
filling in details with their imaginations and wondering at possibilities.
She felt the blood begin to rise in her cheeks and the light quiver in
her stomach as she speculated as to whether his gaze on her was as tightly
focused as hers was on him.
A thousand ideas flitted across her mind in a split second and she
felt her leg hesitate during a single step. She focused quickly on him once
more and wondered if he had noticed, and smiled, and secretly been pleased
that the mere distant sight of him had on her.
But then, he slowly turned, and began to move, a few loose, casual
steps, like an animal about to hunt, and then broke into a jog, away from
her, along the path.
She could feel her heart sag with a disappointment that she realized
was totally unreal, sighed and moved along the path, already lifting the
book and forcing herself to begin picking out the words there with her
mind.
When next she looked up from the book, placing the woven images on
hold for a moment, she was now nearing the far corner of the park, where
the path turned and moved perpendicular to the right. And just in the
corner, nestled among the overhanging limbs of the trees, she noticed a
small path, beginning to wind through the woods and quickly being lost in
it, out of sight.
What the hell, she thought, and turned onto the wild path, ducking her
head to avoid a low branch and beginning to move along it, between the
trees.
The path wound back and forth, up small rises and down small drops,
and then turned a corner to a very small, almost cozy open area amid the
trees. And there, just in the center, the path running beside it, was a
huge rock, the kind children love to scale and leap from and feel brave and
free.
But the area was totally deserted now, and her legs were beginning to
ache a bit, so she casully decided to scale this tiny mountain and settle
down upon it's height, which she quickly did.
She stopped for a long moment, listening to the rustle of the wind
through the trees and a deep and peaceful calm washed over her. Then she
turned her attention to the book once more, now losing herself in it more
easily.
She did not even notice as she began shifting her position as she
read, first to her side, propped up on her elbow, and finally onto her
stomach, the book open before her, her chin resting on the back of her
hands as the palms pressed into the coolness of the rock... and her eyelids
dropped and she began to drift... and passed gently into sleep.
She opened her eyes. She had been asleep. But for how long? The sun
was lower in the sky now, she summized, it's rays cutting through the
foliage overhead at a flat angle, as if playing out the last few lingering
minutes before dusk. She reached out with her senses and found the wind
still murmuring through the leaves, that soothing whisper of comfort and
carelessness. And she felt at peace once more. She stretched her body,
tightening muscles and slowly easing them, a delicious sensation, and then
carefully rolled over and sat up.
She saw him. The same shirt, the same shorts. But this time, he was
laying on the ground at the base of the rock, on a wide patch of soft
grass, his front pointing at the sky, his limbs casually draped, as if he
were some magnificent cat sunning itself.
She could only see him from the chest down, as his head and face were
hidden by the edge of the rock on which she now sat, but what she could now
see, a bare dozen feet below her perch, was already stirring her.
He was finely built, a wonderful body, decking in light garments which
clung to him, showing off every well maintained muscle in his chest and
legs. But her eye fixed upon the crotch of the shorts, where there was a
well sized bulge of flesh beneath.
She almost moaned, perhaps even made some small sound, as the tingle
of this sight rolled through her, and quickly froze, terrified that he had
heard the birthpain of her arousal. But he did not move, and the steady
rustling of the trees above her, she hoped, would have drowned it and swept
it away from his ears.
She focused on him once more... he was beautiful. Perfect. If ever she
had the opportunity with such a form, she knew she would ravage it with a
madness she had only dreamed of. Somewhere inside herself she felt the
fluids begin to move and swell at the thoughts that cascaded through her
mind... and she fixed her eyes on the bulge in his shorts, and wondered at
what that hidden treasure must be like to touch and taste and slide deep
into herself.
He moved. A slow, languid motion, and she froze once more, fearful
that her thoughts had somehow screamed down at him and made him aware of
her growing lust. But he did not dart, nor flinch nor react to any lightly
sensed intrusion. He merely lowered a single hand in a long, slow arc,
until it came to rest upon that bulge in his shorts. And then, as if the
most careless, casual thing in the universe, she saw his fingers slowly
curl, pressing on it... and uncurl... and curl once more... and she
realized with flush of new heat that he was stroking himself.
Her breath began to quicken as her body leapt to attention, drinking
in this new stimulation. Her eyes watched as, even around his wide, soft-
looking hand, she could see the bulge begin to swell, and stretch upwards,
filling his tight shorts with the awakening demon of his sex.
Her own hand reached down and the tips of her fingers instantly found
her nipple, already tight and hard and tingling beneath the thin fabric of
her shirt. She pinched it, a sweet punishment for it's delicious
misbehavior, and it reacted with a wave of sensation that awakened her sex
and increased the flow deep inside her.
Below, she saw his other hand stretch down and take the waistband of
his shorts in it's grasp, as the first hand, slipped under the frontal fold
of cloth and found the tab of the zipper. If he had known she was there,
the slow, sensuous parting of those metal teeth that held the cloth
together could not have been more arousing. And then she saw the beast
blossoming beneath the parting fabric. It was huge, she thought... a true
demon of flesh that her eyes told her instantly would fill her to the
bottom of her sex, stretch her beyond any previously felt limits and
probably destroy her soul each time a hard stroke of it milked yet another
wave of cumming from her.
Without thought, her other hand slipped down as she shifted herself,
turning, rising to her knees on the rock, and slid to cup her own sex.
Even through the fabric she could feel the moisture, soaking the cloth and
as she curled her hand against herself, pressing the material against her
clit, she felt the shiver ripple up inside her... up where she now wanted
that demon to stab and fill and possess. And she focused all her lust into
her very center, and wished it out to him in hot silence.
His hands drew back, his thumbs hooked the waistband of his shorts and
his hips rose from the grass, causing her to moan softly, imagining those
hips beneath her, driving that monster deep into her, straddled above him.
With a slow, almost lazy stretch, the shorts slid down his legs, over his
bent knees and fell, casually around his ankles.
Her own hands answered, drifting to the button that closed the top of
her shorts, slipping it free, taking the clasp of the zipper in her fingers
and sliding it down. Waves of cool breeze brushed her now naked belly and
the chills added yet another sensation to the heat boiling from within her.
The shorts parted and fell away, like the petals of some dying flowing, to
a heap just above her knees, and her sex stood now covered only by the
thin, sheeny satin of her panties, it's center soaked with her arousal.
Quickly she hooked them and slid them down to join the shorts at her knees.
His hands moved once more to his now jutting cock, and she watched
with fascination as one of them lightly circled it's girth with a single
finger and thumb, just beneath it's bulging head, and the other slid under
it's back, to the tight sphere of his balls, the tips of the fingers slowly
beginning to pet them, lightly.
Her own hands responded, one settling on her sex, feeling the soft
hair beneath it, a single finger pressing in, parting the engorged and
throbbing lips and sliding slowly down, following the sinking curve of her,
turning to slip upwards, inside herself. The other hand brushed lightly on
her buttock, and slid teasingly down it to her thigh, before slipping in,
between her legs and sliding upward, to take a fingertip of her wetness...
then slipped slowly up, behind her, to that tight ring of her other
invasion point, and pressing, parting, penetrating.... filling her.
His hand began to slowly stroke, sliding down the huge fleshy cock to
it's base, then back up, just to the bottom of the head, before reversing
to feel it's length once more. His hands were slow, unhurried, as were her
own, sliding gently into and out of herself, feeling the mix of tingles and
flashes from these two centers of her sex crackle against each other
somewhere deep inside her.
He moaned, and as if to answer, her fingers quickened their pace
inside her, the stroking urgent now, the sensations building and sparking
outwards.
She watched, sodden with the sight of him as his own hands suddenly
reached a hard pace upon his cock and his balls, like some mad piston
driving in a steady rhythm through a surrounding ring made by his hand. She
found her own strokes begin to match his, and the waves began deep within
her, her release announcing it's emmenant birth.
There was a flash of tiny sparkle on the head of his cock and she
realized it was the pre-cum... that his body had a wetness of it's own when
tormented and teased. Her own sex answered with a sudden grip upon her
fingers, an urge to yet more stroking, more sensation, and then she heard
his moan from somewhere deep inside himself, his hips rising his hands
flashing and then the grunt of release and his body stiffened, trembling.
Her own cumming leapt up and flashed through her, rippling waves of it
filling her, washing out along her limbs as she saw his cock begin to spurt
his hot, milky fluid onto himself, splashing against his chest and stomach.
In her mind she felt it splash inside her, upon her, between her lips
and another wave roared up to surround her, fill her and carry her away
with it...
Her fingers slowed and fell motionless inside her, as she drank in the
last fleeting pulses of the storm that had soaked her body and her soul.
His hands slowed too, and fell still, and they were both motionless...
a pair of lovers who had never met, never even touched... now forever
joined in this shared exstacy that only one of them was aware had been
consumated.
Then she saw him slowly move, as if his entire body were weary and
battered by some mighty struggle, and take the waistband of the shorts,
pull them up, over the raised knees, and beneath the hips now held aloft
with some effort in their exhaustion, his fingers slowly beginning the
delicate work of re-sealing the monster inside them.
And as he did so, she slowly slid her own fingers from herself,
reached dreamily down and took the panties between her fingers, dragged
them back up to cover her now-satisfied sex, and return once more to fetch
the shorts and pull them into place.
She watch his hands as the carefully closed and sealed his shorts, and
found she was matching their movement with her own hands, so that when his
task was done, hers was as well... and when she saw him sigh with the
contentment of the act, she smiled, and inside she thought a grateful 'you
are most welcome, my love' at him... this unseen stranger, this faceless
body, this untouched lover... and then she eased herself down, rolled
languidly over, crossed her palms beneath her on the coolness of the rock,
laid her cheek upon them, closed her eyes and let herself drift back to
sleep.
The End
To each his own.... (Yeah, I know it's trite. Sorry.)
========
Mid Afternoon Delights
MarArch
-30-
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