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                 / )|         DIRECTORIES        |( \
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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

Masturbating (f-solo)
by Damya (an128788@anon.penet.fi)

**

Sleep beckons to me eagerly, yet flees, ever-elusive, just as i reach it. I
try in vain not to do this, not to dream of you, but I am helpless against
a desire that is stronger than I am.

I pretend the night breeze that stirs my curtains in he silvery moonlight
and sighs my name is you. In my mind's eye, I see you lean down to kiss my
waiting lips, and I slowly touch my fingers to my mouth. My tongue slips
out to moisten my lips the way your's would if you were here.

In the oblivion of my dreams I hear you moan as your hands reach out to
caress my breasts, wondering at their weight, texture, and feel. My nipples
harden as though your tongue really is tracing wet circles 'round them.

But you are not here; I am alone with my thoughts of you and the yearnings
of my restless body. My scalp tingles as I imagine your hands running
through my hair and sending tiny electric shocks throughout my system.

I warm and tighten under the illusion of your gentle breath. I feel a
sudden rush wetness as your phantom mouth closes 'round the tiny bud of my
clitoris. Butterflies flutter crazily in my stomach. The slightly-rough
tongue that steadily thrusts in and out of me is actually my own solitary
finger. The tongue tracing beautiful circles on and around my clitoris is
only my middle finger, moistened by my mouth and the juices of my vagina.

And the moans that fill the emptiness of my room are not our's, but mine
alone. But finally, the waves of pleasure that wash over me as my walls
clench and spasm are very real. And as I finally drift off to sleep, sated,
I actually smile, knowing I am not lonely as long as I have you, my phantom
lover.