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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

Electronic Erotica - 6 (assorted stories)

*

LOUNGING

It's godawful hot outside. Not too humid, but the kind of heat that bears down 
if you're not in the shade and almost disappears if you are. The husband and 
kids are away for the day, she can be more informal. After the morning run she 
showers and puts the shorts back on with only a bathing suit top. The day to 
herself, she stretches out on the lounge chair in the backyard with her summer 
novel. 
 
After only a few pages though, she finds that she just can't get HIM out of 
her mind. She can still feel him against her even though they were only 
together for 36 hours last weekend. 
 
The backyard is enclsoed by hedges and fences. As her mind wanders she need 
not worry if her hand finds itself slowly stroking her cunt from the outside 
of her shorts. Her nipples harden as she remebers him rubbing her ass gently 
as they rode up the elevator together.  They kissed after they came through 
the door to his apartment. 
 
She remembers his body and what they did and her fingers slide beneath her 
shorts and the satin panties beneath, stroking the lips of her vagina softly. 
He had done that too, sitting next to her on the bed, one hand fingering her 
while the other carressed her nipples, her chest and her stomach. 
 
It had been some time since she had experienced a new man, with new smells and 
tastes, a different smile and life and a new style of loving. Never in a 
hurry, he had gently played with her pussy until she was so wet and hot that 
she literally pushed him onto his back and mounted him, almost coming as he 
penetrated her. He pinched and rubbed her nipples as she slid up and down on 
him, grinding herself against and around his hardness. 
 
It was also a time for her to be reassured that she certainly could still make 
a man beg her to finish him off, as he did when she sucked him. She loved the 
way he squirmed beneath her and groaned, how his stomach and thighs tightened 
up when she finally gave him the long hard strokes that emptied his sweet 
balls into her mouth. 
 
Each foot is now planted on the deck on each side of the lounge chair. Her 
eyes are closed and her back is slightly arched as she slowly fingers herself, 
rubbing her wet clit as her mind goes back to the feel of his cock rubbing 
against her ass just before he entered her from behind. His cock filling her 
pussy and his finger slipping in and out of her ass as he whispered into her 
ear the effect watching her muscular back and wonderful ass was having on him 
as he fucked her. 
 
The hottest memory was his tongue. Men love to be sucked but they're often 
publicly hypocritical about it, using derisive terms to refer to women who 
enjoy giving head. Women aren't so stupid, they appreciate men who love to eat 
pussy and this man, if he were a woman and roles were reversed, would be 
considered a real slut. 
 
He took his time and used his tongue, lips, fingers, nose and face to bring 
pleasure to her. So slow and wet at first, the sweet bastard kept her going 
for almost an hour. He tongued her ass while a finger squirmed into her and 
another tapped her clit gently. Tap...tap....taptaptap. He used long full 
tongued strokes that started at her ass and covered her pussy lips and ended 
at her clit. His hands, usually cupping her ass cheeks, periodically reached 
up to rub her breasts. 
 
She loved it. The idea of a man lying between her legs and catering to her 
needs always turned her on and the memory of this man, new, hard and so 
accomodating, wanting her to come all over his face after licking and sucking 
her for an hour. She had finally grapped his head and taken her release 
grinding herself against his tongue, his face. For the first time in a long 
time she felt as if she really lost it, didn't care how loud she was or what 
she screamed in the night, her hands grabbed his head so closely. His tongue 
in the final moments somehow knew just what she wanted. Someone at sometime 
had taught this boy but good. Fast wet tongue on her clit making her cum. 
 
Thinking about it a week later on the  deck in her backyard, the summer sun 
beat down, making her sweat as her fingers rubbed her pussy, pretending that 
they were his lips, his tongue, his fingers. She thought he'd probably like to 
see her this way, soaked with sweat, nipples showing through her top, hand in 
her pants, moving her hips against it. 
 
Yes, if only he were here now...just as she came she thought he was standing 
next to her, leaning against the lounge chair, nude. Stroking his hard cock as 
he watches her bring herself off...she reaches up and gently rubs his 
balls...she can see his muscles tightening and that beautiful look on his 
face. She comes, loudly, closing her eyes. As she does she is sure she can 
hear him and feel his warm cum spurting across her chest and stomach.....

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

			THE SEANCE

After dinner the clamor for a seance renewed, and of course in the
end--after the usual mutterings from the Colonel about "poppycock" and
"much better to have a good round of whist"--it was decided.
Accordingly, we cleared the drawing room and set the large table in the
center, covered with a cloth of heavy purple velvet which Lady Elma
produced "to propitiate the spirits."  Indeed, the ladies had a great
flutter about doing it all properly--sitting around the table, holding
hands, with our feet placed on the top of our neighbors' (or underneath,
as the case might be) so as to detect any trace of attempted mortal
meddling.  For, as Lady Elma most properly pointed out, "There was no
point to doing it at all unless you were prepared to do it seriously!"
At last we were settled, fairly widely spaced at the table, our legs and
arms stretched out to our neighbors, with the candles doused and the
curtains tightly drawn.  For a few moments there were titters as people
adjusted themselves---"I say, Harry, don't stamp so on my toes!"--but at
last silence fell, a heavy, expectant silence undisturbed even by the
winds outside.

In such an atmosphere, it is difficult to mark the passing of time, so
it is nearly impossible for me to say how long we waited thus, and I
suppose I had fallen into a sort of reverie (helped along by the wine),
when all of a sudden I became aware of a touch against my leg.  I held
my breath--for in my near-trance I was almost prepared for it to be a
ghost--and for a moment nothing happened.  Then it came again--a gentle
touch, as of a hand beginning a tentative caress upon my thigh.  It
continued--it was unmistakeable--someone or something was stroking my
thigh, and indeed if one could judge from appearances its intentions
were far from innocent, for it slowly proceeded towards my crotch and at
last began lightly stroking the fabric against my private parts.  For
the moment I was stunned--still really unsure of the reality of what was
happening, so suddenly had it begun, and also increasingly aware of the
pleasure stealing over me from the touch.  I was, furthermore, becoming
aware that I must above all keep still, for my neighbors would of course
detect the slightest motion of my limbs, and after the incident of the
night before I was determined not to be thought the culprit again.  But
scarcely had I time to caution myself thus then my self-control was put
to the test, for I became aware of a hand unbuttoning my trousers, and
then suddenly warm, soft fingers were reaching in, grasping my member,
and drawing it, stiffening, forth.  The quick touch nearly made me
gasp--I caught myself in time, and deliberately set myself to relax my
limbs lest they betray me.  By now I was far too engrossed in the
possibilities which awaited to wonder--or care--what or who could
possibly be touching me thus:  fingers were holding me gently, and at
last the unmistakeable warmth and wetness of a tongue touched the eager,
the trembling, the exquisitely sensitive tip of my cock.  I shut my eyes
against the darkness, trying to imagine what was happening--lips,
tongue, flashing teeth, my rod slowly entering the welcome cavity--but
suddenly the touch was withdrawn.  My cock launched itself helplessly
out into the blackness, into the air, feeling itself abruptly
deserted--I held my breath once more in an agony of hope, and at last!
was rewarded by the delicious sensation once again of a tongue's caress.
It continued--it slowly welcomed more and more of my desperately aroused
flesh into the soft friction.  I yearned to thrust still further inward;
the slow suspense was tantalizing torture, the more so because I knew I
_must_not_ move, and the degrees by which the lips--those glorious
lips!--made their soft and lubricious progress first onward and then
withdrawing backward along what felt like a yard of acutely tingling
penis, were nearly unbearable.  A centimeter forwards, an inch of bliss
as my whole body nearly shuddered with the deliberateness of it--then an
inch back--an inch of combined pleasure and tension, with always the
fear that the touch would disappear as it had come.  I could feel the
tongue as well, moving against the underside of my rod in slow circles
as the lips worked slowly upwards, till at last! I was fully enclosed,
so firmly and warmly held that I could almost imagine myself engulfed in
the wet haven of a woman's sex.

By that time my heart was pounding, and my breathing was in grave danger
of becoming audible--I was thus almost grateful for the pause as this
ethereal lover ceased to move and held me, pulsing in every limb, but
especially in that which was so wonderfully embedded in the ghostly
mouth.  All was still silent in the room, and I realized that I had no
idea at all how much time had passed--perhaps the others would soon
become restless and--awful thought!--break up our circle before this
mystery had had its way with me!  Whatever it was, it seemed to have had
the same thought, for in a moment I felt it slowly begin again, this
time with a stronger rhythm and a firmness of touch which made me wonder
whether the experience might not be over all too soon.  And now, too, a
new sensation was added:  that of soft hands once more touching me, this
time sliding over my now slick sex while those gentle, gentle lips still
sucked and licked at its very tip.  I felt a dangerous pleasure
beginning to mount as the rhythm went to my head--my whole body was
concentrated in this one member, consumed with the mesmerizing
sensations of my penis, sliding, sliding effortlessly within that smooth
grasp, until in my mind's eye I could nearly see the woman kneeling
between my legs, the penis disappearing deep into her mouth and
emerging, sliding past her lips and their pressure, her tongue and its
exquisite friction, while her hands cradled my balls and added an almost
distractingly delicate tickling to the already overwhelming pleasure.
Then I imagined her beneath me, lying open before me as I entered her
again and again, each time feeling her outer lips grasp me and then her
wet, warm sex give way before my thrust, her hips moving around the root
of my rod and sending pleasure through my belly and bones as I sought to
bury my entire length--nay my entire body--within her.  The fantasy was
so complete that at last I felt the imperative sperm surge up within
me--I was in the grasp of a rhythm too strong to resist, and with an
uncontrollable shudder I felt myself spurt forth the pent-up desires and
liquids of a month's abstinence.

I think I gasped--I must have quivered--but as the force of my orgasm
died away and I came to myself I recollected what had indeed been
forgotten in the preceding ecstasy--that I was surrounded by people.
Had anyone detected my agitation?  All was silent in the darkness--I
waited in an agony of suspense as the silence drew itself out into what
seemed like hours, and then--"I say, have we got to sit here very much
longer?" came the cheerful voice of Harry Vane.  "Yes--I say--it's
deuced dark."  "And my foot's gone to sleep!" chimed in Miss Pearson and
Freddy Postlethwaite.  A snore from my left announced that the Colonel
was oblivious.  The lights came up--Lady Elma, standing match in hand by
the candelabra, asked cheerfully, "Has anyone detected a ghost?"
Various voices responded in the negative--I was seized by a sudden fear
lest my trousers (as absurd though this is!) be unbuttoned--I contrived
to examine them, and found them secure!  What had happened?  An
ingenious ghost--a cautious ghost!  Ah--a voluptuous ghost!  I looked up
and caught Lady Elma's smile as she looked at me, archly, and a sudden
suspicion crossed my mind--was that a trace of moisture on her lovely
lips?  Or merely lamplight . . .

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

			A PLEASANT VISITOR

I could tell it had been a long day for you as soon as you walked through the 
door. I'd flown in for the weekend, a relatively rare visit and let myself 
in with your key. dinner was ready and the food and wine seemed to bring your 
spirits up a bit. After dinner and dishes talk of the day, easy cuddling and 
some talk of the future. 
 
You suggested a backrub, both to get your kinks out and to help us both relax. 
In the candlelight I'm reminded how much a simple pleasure it can be to watch 
someone you love undress in front of you. Some things are so mundane but so 
important. 
 
Naked beneath the sheets and warm comforters you can lounge on your stomach 
while I slide my hands over your shoulders, spine and sides. There's some 
tension that I spend some time kneading out, a smile spreads across your face 
when I squeeze the right knotted muscle. The wine probably helps, providing a 
a fuzzy veil over everything we do and feel. 
 
Originally I'm straddled over you so I can really work on your back but after 
fifteen or twenty minutes I want to settle down and slide down next to you, 
lying on my side, leaning against yours. I still have a hand sliding over your 
back, from the shoulders down to the small, but no anatomical efforts now, 
just the warm comforting feeling of skin brushing against skin. 
 
Every few strokes I include your ass and the backs of your thighs in my palm's 
tour of your back. You ass and thighs are always nice and strong, from years 
of running two miles a day and summers of leader teens on hikes in the 
mountains of New Hampshire. Every time I do this I'm reminded of how we 
concentrate on the obvious: genitals, breasts. But backs have their own 
beauty, their own sensuality. So do fingers, hands, arms, knees. I'm not 
usually so philosophical under the influence of soave. 
 
Lying next to you is having its effect on me, especially after three hours on 
a plane. I'm concentrating on the small of your back and your ass now, with 
occasional forays back to your shoulders. You smell of your day at work and I 
taste the saltiness as I lick and kiss a shoulder and then your neck. You 
smile again, knowing what I'm up to, probably having waited for me start since 
the backrub began. 
 
Stroking your ass I let my hand slip between your cheeks, slightly deeper with 
every other move or so, tickling you a bit but also beginning to brush against 
your pubic hairs from behind. You part your legs just slightly and giggle, 
turning your head toward me and giving me the kind of smile that attracted me 
to you in the first place. 
 
I'm still mostly rubbing your ass but more and more a finger or two are 
stroking your lips as they slip down, spending more and more time lightly 
brushing. You sigh and I leave my hand embedded between your legs, a finger 
lying across the length of your exposed lips, lightly moving side to side, 
pressing slightly. You squirm a bit and move closer to me, kissing my arm and 
nibbling a bit, then licking slowly. My hand starts to move up and down more, 
the tip of my middle finger slipping just inside at the bottom of each stroke. 
You turn and look me directly in the eyes and move toward me, mouth slightly 
open. I feel more wetness and slip a full finger inside you. You moan just a 
bit as our mouths meet and tongues slide against each other. I start to move 
my finger slowly inside you, moving a bit deeper. You part your legs a bit 
more, I slip a second finger inside. My middle finger moves toward your clit, 
you're raising your ass slightly off the bed. I'm rubbing your clit very 
gently and start kissing your back again as you break off the kiss. 
 
Slowly I lick my way down your back, I've always liked your taste, until I 
reach your ass. Your legs and ass are moving slowly against my hand now and 
I use the other to part your ass cheeks. My tongue slides down to you asshole 
and when it touches and I press against it, I can hear you let out a full 
breath. I whisper for you to flip over. 
 
I'm lying between your legs, stroking the insides of your thighs and pulling 
gently on your pubic hairs with my lips. Long slow strokes of my tongue bottom 
to top along the lips of your wet cunt, slight pause at the end when I reach 
your clit. Slow and easy and then drawing your lips briefly between mine, then 
slipping my tongue inside. Your left hand slides down and rests on top of my 
head. I slide one finger and then two inside and continue licking, more and 
more on your clit as you're getting higher, holding my head tighter aginast 
you as I start to move faster, still full tongued. It's easy to tell when 
you're getting really high and I look up to see that glazed over countenance 
through half open eyelids. 
 
Your noisiness really has its effect on me, I'm very hard and becoming totally 
immersed in your soundssmelltaste and the fact that you're starting to shiver, 
one hand holding my head against you more tightly, the other is rubbing your 
nipples. A finger slides against your asshole now. 
 
My thumb is in your cunt and I slip a finger into your ass. I can sense your 
close to cumming and I suddenly shake my head from side to side very rapidly 
 
You lose it. Legs and feet sliding against the sheets my face is pressing 
against wet musky womansmell held closely by a desperate hand. Your groans 
remind me again of how much I'm turned on by the sounds of lovemaking. When I 
was in college I couldnt help hear roomates and their lovers. I'd bring myself 
off as they did. 
 
I move up over you and we hold each other tight, kisses, whispers, warmth. You 
still move against me and raise your legs in invitation. And I thought you 
were worn from work. Six weeks of separation can make people very horny. I 
slip in very easily. The initial rush almost makes me lose control but I pause 
and then start screwing. Your hands slide along my back and sides and I nibble 
and kiss you neck and lips. After five or ten minutes it's like a slow dance. 
We move against each other. I can feel your muscles holding me, the heat and 
wetness are just what I need. You're whispering in my ear, "Baby wants to cum, 
doesnt he?", "Go ahead baby, don't hold back." 
 
I move off you a bit and you stroke my chest with your hands. You've decided 
that I want this to last a bitlonger and move a hand down to your clit, not 
too sensitive to be rubbed. 
 
We're totally out of time. A dance out of time. Good fucking is not just 
refusing to answer the phone if it rings, it's refusing to even hear it. Now 
we're both very high. Thighs against thighs, sweating stomachs, staring into 
each other eyes. The eye contact could be the thing that finsihes us both. 
 
It does. You've been working your clit quickly and slip over some brink, 
vaginal muscles taking me with you. I feel it start in my balls and it shoots 
right up my back and stomach muscles, rippling through my body. Just like it 
always does when we make it last. There are times for quick and hard, but this 
had to be slow and smooth. My head snaps up and I scream. 
 
We remain entwined for long   after, enjoying the aftershocks and union after 
a long time apart. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of "Electronic Erotica", volume 1, number 6.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[]
   Daryl VanHorne, editor, "Electronic Erotica" (eEros)
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