From: --SeebS-- (seebachp@thor.acc.stolaf.edu) Subject: Another cheap story... Newsgroups: alt.sex View: Complete Thread (5 articles) | Original Format Date: 1989-11-10 00:04:09 PST There are times when sex seems to loose its thrill. Taxes, midterms, and abstract algebra tend to get in the way, and it's hard to feel romantic with a five-page paper due. But maybe it's about time to give up on the fucking (figuratively) school shit for a while and get in a bit of romance? We start with dinner at McDonalds. Not the healthiest or most romantic, but at least it's better than eating in the caf again. And if you get an extra strawberry milkshake before you leave, all the better. It's early October here, but there's no real trouble with the weather. Such luck - it must be an omen. One of the nice things about St. Olaf is the fields. All the athletic fields are basically unlit. (The rest of the campus, after a rape scare a while ago, is well lit. Aww.) And there's a lot of space out there. We walk down the hill, across a field, and down another hill. The moon is full, and we can both see reasonably well. There are advantages to the skulking lifestyle. We sit down, with the moon behind us, and hold hands. As always, I end up sitting on the left. Probably because I'm right-handed. We talk, and the conversation finds itself drawn to upcoming philosophy papers, and roots of real-valued functions. In light of the apparent impossibility of romantic conversation, we simply kiss. And, for those who don't know, it's nearly impossible to kiss *about* something. And the kisses are nice. Of course, we don't know each other nearly well enough to be kissing on the lips. (Yeah. Right.) So instead we start on the cheeks. For whatever reason, kisses have to be on the left cheek. It's just not right to kiss the other one. But the kisses are invariably drawn in to the nose. And then around the eyes in a figure eight. Oops - got the lips. Oh, well, if you're going to screw it up, do it right. The great thing about people who know you is they know what you like. And one of the things I like is the flavor of peanut butter cups. Eating one beforehand was a stroke of genius. Speaking of strokes, she seems to have learned to purr when you pet her. (We're talking head and neck, here. Stop letting your minds get ahead of my typing.) And it's about time for us to lie down now. So we do. And after all, now we can use the hands that were holding us up for ... other purposes. I'll admit it. I've always been sort of affected by the social attitude that breasts are sexy. Now, I also know that it's not female-specific; after all, the nerves are there anyway. But I have this feline mentality about sex - sort of like a kitten with a ball of yarn. So I have this sort of attraction to breasts - they're fun to play with. And play with them I do. And she's trying to play with mine, too. It's just a bit harder, becuase there's less to play with. But the effect is similar. Somehow, in the ensuing shuffle, the shoes are ditched. The wonders of life. I slide my hand up her back, just as a distraction tactic for getting the other one up her front. Damn. She noticed. On the other hand, she doesn't seem to mind much. Might as well be thankful for small blessings. Or large ones - like her removing that annoying shirt. And larger ones, like what's under it. (Ok, so maybe I exaggerate. And maybe it's cheesy. But humor is the essence of life, if not rec.humor.) And it's time to lick a bit lower. Now, if this were normal alt.sex stuff, either we'd: 1] Go on to petting, oral sex, and then intercourse, and then oral sex, and then intercourse, and then "I hope you liked my fantasy." 2] just say " to be continued." (Same bat-time, ...) But just to be different, and well aware that we were going to be doing this (in some ways) in front of more than 50,000 people. (Head rush...), we decided to be really different, and go straight to the sex. Since we haven't yet done the standard, late-fourth-to-early-sixth paragraph removal of our pants, ... About here we realized that we were, as it happens, not going to last through all the "midway through the story" stuff, so we decided to just fuck like rabid weasels. So she unbuttoned her jeans (I *hate* button-flys. They take too long.) and I undid mine, and the rest is something so fucking predictable it is better left unsung. But I don't know, don't really care, so I inserted my penis in her vagina (Bet you ain't heard it described that way since Sex Ed...) and did the pelvic thruu-ust, until... But you know the rest. Anyway, we now felt somewhat more relaxed. Once again, about here we're supposed to kiss, go into oral sex, and then fuck again. But, being the rebels without a cause (So much for *that* argument for the existance of God...) that we are, we decided to go another way. Instead of "she kissed me again until I got hard..." we went for "I kissed her until she was hot again..." Much more fun, in my estimation. And, of course, somewhere in here we did manage the obligatory strip. (Dissapointed? email me. We'll do without next time...) And we cuddled for a while. And fondled each other lovingly. (Certainly easier than doing it malevolantly.) And after a while she started to rub against me. Did anyone expect that? Ok, now keep your hands up if you expected me to harden up again. Hah, fooled ya! Here, we go for the finger- fuck, which hasn't been used in a story in about 3 months, except perhaps for ones I didn't have time to read. And, of course, this being an alt.sex story (tm), I was so expert and, perhaps, deft, that she came quickly and violently, and my hand was soaked, right? Wrong. Instead, I just sort of put in a couple of fingers and wiggled them for a while. And no, she didn't come n+1 times. Just once, after about 5 minutes. But she enjoyed it, which is the whole point. And then, instead of giving me the predictable <whatever> job, she just turned around, and rolled over on me. I was, as always, a bit confused, so she just humped me for a while. (Yes, by now I was aroused enough for this to work.) And then we both came again. At the same time. (You can't miss all the cliches...) Anyway, then we cleaned up. (Foresight here: Bring paper towels along. What a concept.) And put on our clothes. And walked back, right? Of course not. We walked into the woods up on the hill, stripped again, and started kissing. And fondling. And this is where we started on the typical stuff. It all started because I started kissing her belly button, and just went lower. And, of course, this being alt.sex, we did 69 for a while. In fact, about ten minutes later we stopped, mostly because neither of us was all that interested in it anymore. Strange. And then we just held hands and stared at the stars (the few we could see through the trees - bet you didn't expect me to think of that.) for a while. And then, we fucked again. Just to be typical. And cleaned up again. (Lots of paper towels, actually.) And got dressed, and went home. Or to her apartment, really. And then I offered to tuck her in. (Habit I picked up from another 'friend'.) And, of course, we did it again, right? Wrong. Again. I just gave her a nice, no-ulterior- motives backrub, and then we kissed (french, of course) good night, and then I walked home. And then I fed my fish, turned off the fish tank lights, and went to bed. And the next day, we both flunked quizzes. Can't have it all. --SeebS-- Kilroy the Prophet... Anonymous posting service here... seebachp@thor.acc.stolaf.edu Disclaimer: Love you too... "Rape my mind and destroy my feelings, don't tell me what to do. I don't care now, 'cause I'm on my side, and I can see through you" --Mt --SeebS-- (Peter Seebach) The One The Only Thank God!