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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don’t believe in categorizing things. "I don’t want to o
o be typed therefore I don’t type things myself." I think it’s o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Dreamer (MF)
by Andromeda (c) 1993
*
We are at a BBS party. A pretty big one, with perhaps
75 people or so in attendance. I am standing around, talking
with my significant other and a few other folks, when another
couple walks in the front door. The female half of the
couple is a good friend of mine, and I had met her SO on
several occasions. A real cutie, he is.
He and I had chatted on the board a few times, and
oftentimes the chats, whether private or public, somehow
always resulted in some serious double entendre and innuendo
slinging. The new arrivals joined our little pod of
conversationalists.
Almost immediately, my friend's SO walks around behind
me and whispers in my ear. "So.... can I talk dirty to you
here, too?"
I blush slightly, remembering the content of some of our
online soirees, and in my cocktail induced euphoria whisper
back to him, "Go for it - I'm in the mood to be bad!"
He walks back around to the other side of this little
chit-chat group, and I grin at him, but think nothing more of
it. The evening wears on, with people talking and drinking,
drinking and talking. As always happens at large gatherings,
the noise level of the environment increases, as does the
volume of the stereo, in direct proportion to the amount of
alcohol being consumed.
I've got a pretty decent buzz on at this point, thanks
to a couple of Cuervo Gold shooters, and my friend's SO has
had more than his share of some domestic long-necks. The
party is in full swing, with people moving from room to room
of the large house, mingling with the other guests. I am
talking politics with a nice but somewhat nerdy acquaintance
when my modem buddy walks up behind me and says to the nerdy
one, "Excuse us for just one second." He leans down, and
whispers in my ear in a low voice, "Hey baby - wanna fuck?"
I manage to retain my composure, and decide to call his
bluff. "When and where?" I ask.
"Tonight," he teases. "I heard a rumor that the
Guinness World Record people are here tonight, and I told
them I want to set the record for making a woman come the
most times in a one hour period."
I laugh the comment off, but I start to get a little
fidgety. Not than anything was really going to happen - but
this little bit of "live hot chat" was having the same effect
on me as what we did over the modem.
Some more time passes - more conversation, more
drinking. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Upon my
return, another round of Cuervo shooters is being served up.
As it was not my turn to be the Designated Driver, I decide
"what the hell," and indulge in another shooter. Lick, salt,
lick, drink, suck. About 15 minutes later, I am feeling no
pain, and feeling a little bit on the frisky side to boot.
I walk up to my hot chatter, who is leaning across a
railing, talking to someone on the steps below him. I
move behind him, pressing my body into his. I lean over his
shoulder, and put my face next to his ear, breathing heavily
for just a moment before speaking. "Are the Guinness people
still here? All these shooters have me feeling a little.....
anxious." He laughs under his breath, and says, "When you
least expect it, expect it."
We rejoin the masses at the party, each going our separate
way. The music is loud, and the room is getting crowded and
stuffy as all the guests begin converging on the living room.
Since everyone is basically in one place, I decide to take a
break from the hullabaloo and check out the rest of the
house.
I excuse myself to the upstairs level on the pretense of
finding an unoccupied bathroom, and start peeking in the
bedrooms, most of which are being used as walk-in closets for
the guests' coats.
I come to the bedroom at the end of the hallway, and peer
inside, noticing a computer on a desk in the far corner of
the room. Being a certifiable modeming addict, I log on to
the BBS. Not wanting to attract attention to my departure
from the party, I had pushed the door almost closed, and the
only light in the room is the subtle glow from the PC
monitor. I sit there at the computer, answering e-mail,
reading the subs I had neglected to read earlier in the day,
very much absorbed in what I am doing. I can still hear the
music very clearly - they must have cranked up the volume of
the stereo once again.
I nearly jump out of my skin when a pair of masculine
hands come to rest on my shoulders. The hands begin a slow
but firm massage of my neck, my shoulders. I don't turn
around to see who it is, assuming it to be my SO. I close my
eyes, and lower my hands from the keyboard to my lap. My
head drops forward in response to the wonderful massage I am
receiving. One of the hands administering the massage
brushes my hair away, and I feel warm, wet lips planting
little kisses on my neck.
I am starting to tingle all over, partly from the all-
over effect of the Cuervo, and partly from the more localized
sensations of the kisses. I reach up behind me, and put my
arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to mine. He
takes this as a green light, and turns my head enough to kiss
me full on the mouth. My eyes are closed, and I stand up and
turn around, lips still locked in a passionate kiss. We are
all over each other, kissing hungrily, mouths open, tongues
seeking and swirling, hands groping to expose more flesh. We
manage to remove each other's shirts, pressing against each
other, his bare chest against my white satin bra. I feel as
if I am on fire. We start stumbling through the dark, and
finally find the bed. I fall back onto the bed, and as I
feel him press himself on top of me, I open my eyes.
A surprised shriek comes from my mouth as I find myself
looking into the eyes of my hot chatter. He quickly clamps
his hand over my mouth, squelching my cry of surprise. Both
of us are breathing heavily and sweating profusely at this
point. His hand still on my mouth, he whispers, "I am asking
you this one last time - wanna fuck?" A broad grin creeps
upon his face. Whether it was the Tequila or just the heat
of the moment, or a combination of both, I don't know - but I
nod "yes" in response to his question. We take up quickly
where we had left off, kissing, stroking, and groping at what
was left of our clothing. Before long we are naked,
sweating, gasping for air, pawing at each other like two
animals in heat.
We spend the next hour fucking in every position
imaginable - missionary, cowgirl, doggie, sitting, standing.
I lose count of my own orgasms, and am secretly impressed
with Modem-Man's recuperative powers. Finally, I end up
sitting on the edge of the computer desk, the keyboard
literally under my ass. He is standing in front of me,
hammering away at me one last time. We manage to time things
quite well this time, and we cum together, right there on our
hostess's PC. Poetic justice at it's finest.
We hurriedly get back into our clothes. He looks at me
and smiles, saying "So.... did the Guinness record fall
tonight?"
"Close, but no," I reply, grinning, "but I have never
been one to give up on a challenge."
We discreetly exit the bedroom, and return to the party.
Drinks in hand, back in the company of our partners and the
other guests, we smile a secret smile across the room to each
other.
I'll have to thank my partner sometime for convincing me
we needed a computer.
:)
Erotic Fiction by Andromeda
Copyright 1993, The Titan Collection.
All rights reserved.